Doog was abandoned by the crew on a planet full of empathic mind-readers. What did they reveal about his past?

​Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Oldie: “Hey! He’s back! How was your vacation, Doog?”
Doog: “Screw you guys. I can’t believe you left me on Misericors for two weeks. It’s literally the only hippie convent I’ve been to that doesn’t have drugs.”
Amaya: “It was for the best. You needed to work through some of your issues. They were affecting the rest of the crew.”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It was a big waste of time, in my opinion. I’d rather have ‘worked through my issues’ by blowing last season’s salary on brothels and drugs.”
Amaya: “So, are you saying that you did work through some issues?”
Doog: “Maybe.”

Amaya: “And?”
Doog: “And what?”
Amaya: “Tell us about it!”
Mike: “Start with why you’re not wearing a shirt…”
Doog: “You guys didn’t leave me any of my wardrobe! My only shirt was a biohazard after two days!”
Amaya: “Enough about the shirt. What did you learn?”
Doog: “Well…”

Doog: “…the first couple days I just moped around in my room. I figured I wouldn’t give you guys the satisfaction of participating in therapy.

Doog: “But apparently, everyone staying at ‘Camp Heartsoul’ has to work. If you don’t work, you don’t eat…they said. When my hunger kicked in, I went out to the fields. I tried my best to look busy without actually participating, but I forgot those one alien-guys are mind-readers. That backfired.”
Amaya: “Keep going.”
Doog: “It was then that I realized that I could get out of work if I agreed to meet with the mind-reader guys. Therapy supersedes work. People going through therapy still get to eat.”
Amaya: “You only participated in therapy because you were lazy?”
Doog: “Well, yeah. Duh.”

Doog: “That mind-reader Graal came to my room…”

Doog: “…and did that head-touch-thingy. He helped me see my past.”

Amaya: “What did you see first?”
Doog: “Some of my earliest memories. Stuff I didn’t even remember.”

Doog: “My first memories are of my parents. Actually, of my parents fighting. I couldn’t see my dad’s face in any of the memories. I’m not sure if it’s because I never saw him or because he was always glued to the TV. Graal seems to think that I chose a career in TV because that was the only way I could get my dad to look at me.”
Amaya: “Aw.”
Doog: “But that’s not true.”
Amaya: “Are you sure?”
Doog: “I’m sure.”

Doog: “I'm sure because my dad left a few months after I was born. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Mike: “So, your problems are all related to daddy issues?”
Doog: “No! Shut it, Mike! You didn’t have a dad either.”
Mike: “I…uh…maybe I need therapy too.”
Doog: “Probably. Anyway, none of my issues seem to stem from my dad. He was never anything to me. I never knew him. All he ever gave me was my last name.”

Doog: “After my dad left, my mom and I went to stay with my grandma. She was happy to take us in.”

Doog: “Obviously, none of my problems are related to my grandma. If anyone says otherwise, I’ll punch their lights out.”
Mike: “We all love your grandma, Doog.”
Oldie: “She makes the best pony soup in the galaxy!”

Amaya: “Ok. What about your adolescent years?”
Doog: “There’s nothing too emotionally damaging for most of it.”

Doog: “I did normal kid stuff. I went to school.”

Doog: “I met my best friend, Mike.”

​Doog: “I went to jail.”

Amaya: “Whoa, whoa. Going to jail is NOT normal kid stuff.”
Doog: “It was pretty normal for Mike and I. Cunabula was a factory world. Our parents and grandparents had to work. It was just us a lot of the time.”
Mike: “We caused a lot of chaos.”
Amaya: “Being in jail at that early age could account for a lot of your problems.”
Doog: “Nah, it was a kid jail, not a drop-your-soap-and-get-raped-jail.”
Amaya: “Still.”
Mike: “Kid jail on Cunabula was sort of like a daycare.”
Doog: “The fines our parents paid to get us out were cheaper than a babysitter.”

Doog: “Right before my teenage years, I got some bad news. My mom was promoted.”
Amaya: “Wait, that’s good news, though.”
Doog: “In some respects, yes. But it meant she had to move off-world.”
Amaya: “Oh. So, you had to leave Cunabula, your grandma, and Mike?”
Doog: “No. She wanted me to stay on Cunabula with my grandma. She didn’t want to me to leave my school and my friends. She also said that wherever she was going was no place for a child.”
Amaya: “You don’t know where she went?”
Doog: “No.”

Amaya: “Sorry. I bet you didn’t take that well, especially since your dad had already left you.”
Doog: “At first, I blamed myself. I figured all the trouble Mike and I had gotten into had forced her to leave. That wasn’t true, of course.”

Doog: “After she left, I might have acted out a bit more as a ploy to get her to come back.”
Mike: “He did some tours in big-boy jail after that. I did NOT participate in that chaos.”
Doog: “Yeah, thanks bud. You abandoned me just like everyone else.”

Mike: “That’s not fair. This is the LIU. There are very few people in this galaxy that would go to jail for their own mothers, let alone their teenage best friend.”
Amaya: “Quit being insensitive Mike! Can’t you see what’s happening here. Doog has been feeling abandoned all his life. His dad left. His mom left. You left him. He’s now projecting his abandonment issues onto his current life. That’s why he always leaves the crew. That’s why he prefers prostitutes and brothels over real connections! He wants to abandon others before he gets abandoned! It’s so clear now!”
Doog: “Yeah! I’m damaged!”
Mike: “That’s some BS. Your mom didn’t even abandon you. Tell her about your microphone.”
Amaya: “The microphone?”
Doog: “Uh…”

Doog: “One time when I got back from a month stay in jail, I had a present waiting for me. It was from my mom.”

Doog: “She bought me this microphone.”
Amaya: “The one you never put down?”
Doog: “Yes. She also paid for my first few years of media university. Even though I eventually dropped out, the contacts I made led to this job. She’s the reason I’m here.”
Amaya: “So, she didn’t really abandon you.”

Doog: “Not really, I guess, but I haven’t seen or heard from her in a decade or so.”
Amaya: “Now that we know what happened, we can try to help. Maybe we can find your mom or something.”
Doog: “Now?”
Amaya: “Well, not right this minute. We still have to shoot episodes, but we’ll work on it.  In the meantime, just remember, we won’t abandon you.”
Doog: “Ok.”
Oldie: “In fact, I think we’re contractually obligated to not abandon you.”
Doog: “Gee, thanks, Nards.”
Oldie: “No problem.”

Note: Miseri telepathic empaths are known to be able to pull memories from individuals that they can't even recall themselves, like early-developmental memories.

Doog: “Welcome to the season finale of Season 13 of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the tropical world of Misericors. Misericors is an agricultural world, specializing in fruit production. I guess Amaya chose this planet so we could grab some foods rich in vitamin C – we don’t want Oldie to get scurvy again. I’m glad she chose this route; I was worried she was going to send me to some hellhole after I made her mad on Nusquam.”

Doog: “Agricultural operations on Misericors are based out of this small landing-platform in the middle of the ocean. None of the actual farming takes place out here. It’s just a centralized location. Produce from several nearby islands come here to be shipped out to the rest of the galaxy. This station is manned, so let’s head inside and meet our guide.”

Notch: “Take a seat. The shipping platform is closed until after the game.”
Doog: “I don’t see any seats.”
Notch: “Then stand.”
Doog: “Uh, sure. What are we watching? Is that Ringball?”
Notch: “Yes.”
Doog: “Who’s playing?”
Notch: “Arsine and Diborane.”
Doog: “Cool. Cool. That’s the Devils and the Slugs, right.”
Notch: “Yes.”
Doog: “Oh, nice. I saw them play in person once.”
Notch: “Good for you.”
Doog: “What’s the score? Can we maybe share that seat? Mind if I grab some snacks for the game?”
Notch: “Are you going to talk the whole game?!”
Doog: “Probably.”

Notch: “TV, pause. I guess I’m not watching today’s game live. What do you want?”
Doog: “I’m Doog. I’m a reporter for a show…”
Notch: “You’re the guy that needs a ride.”
Doog: “Well, it’s more than that, you have to…”
Notch: “And you came at 10am on Ringball day.”
Doog: “Sorry. All the days are practically the same for me. “
Notch: “Lucky you. Let’s go.”

Notch: “I didn’t know I was hired to be a taxi driver, but here we are.”
Doog: “Like I was saying – it’s more than a ride. You’re supposed to tell me stuff too.”
Notch: “Like what?”
Doog: “Let’s start with your name.”
Notch: “Everyone here calls me Notch.”
Doog: “That’s an interesting name.”
Notch: “Not really. The locals started calling me it when I wouldn’t participate in their nonsense. I was too ‘business oriented’. I just wanted to get in, pick up their goods, and get out. They said all I was worried about is another notch in my belt.”
Doog: “Some people call me Notch too. They say all I’m worried about is another notch in my bedpost.”
Notch: “No they don’t. Now, get on the ship. You can call me business oriented if you want, but the truth is, I just want you out of my hair as soon as possible…”

Doog: “By your comments earlier, I’m guessing you don’t transport people often.”
Notch: “Never. This is a first.”
Doog: “So, what do you usually transport?”
Notch: “Fruit. I visit each island once a week. I grab their produce and transport it back to the platform. Once I’ve gathered enough, I call in a ship to export the produce out.”
Doog: “That doesn’t seem too efficient. Wouldn’t be easier to transport goods directly from the farms?”
Notch: “No one wants to deal with the locals.”

Doog: “Are the locals that bad? You said earlier that you didn’t want to deal with their nonsense.”
Notch: “It’s complicated. The natives are alright, I guess. But the natives attracted a bunch of free-spirited, hipster morons. They live here with the natives now. It’s them that no one wants to be around.”
Doog: “Some Hippie-types can be unbearable for sure, but are they really bad enough to alter farming operations.”
Notch: “You’ll see soon enough. We’re almost to Port Heartsoul on Cor Island.”
Doog: “Port Heartsoul? They really named it that? Yikes. Maybe we should turn around.”
Notch: “Too late.”

Doog: “Their waves are creepy. Turn around!”
Notch: “Not a chance. You wasted enough of my time today.”
Doog: “They’re too happy. No one in this galaxy is happy! Turn around!”
Notch: “Not happening.”

Ember: “Doog! We’ve been expecting you!”
Kiefer: “Welcome, buddy!”
Doog: “What are you waiting for Notch? Get out here and guide me – preferably somewhere away from the happy-people.”
Ember: “Old grumpy Notch isn’t your guide, Doog. We are.”
Kiefer: “Yep, bud. I’m Kiefer. This wonderful lady is Ember Ash Sage.”
Doog: “Notch! I know you can hear me! Help!!”

Ember: “Hehe. We’ll be all the help you’ll need on this journey. Let us be your guides.”
Kiefer: “Physically and spiritually.”
Doog: “Alright. I can do this. It’s just for a few minutes”
Ember: “You can do it!”
Kiefer: “You can do anything, buddy!”
Doog: “Must suppress vomit…ok. What can you tell me about this place?”
Ember: “This is Camp Heartsoul, a spiritual retreat for people like us.”
Doog: “People like what?”
Kiefer: “People in touch with their emotions.”

Kiefer: “We came here because of these guys, the Miseri.”
Ember: “The Miseri are wonderful beings.”
Kiefer: “They are empathetic telepaths. They can feel your pain, your hatred, and your fears.”
Ember: “They can share these feelings with you, and help you work through any issues.”
Kiefer: “With their help, you can achieve true happiness.”
Doog: “You guys came to Misericors to be with these empaths?”
Kiefer: “Yes.”
Doog: “And, you just hang out with them all day?”

Ember: “We don’t just hangout. We have fully integrated into their society. We live with the Miseri.”
Kiefer: “We also work with the Miseri.”
Doog: “You guys help harvest fruit?”
Ember: “Yes. Our combined labor makes the task easier and faster. The LIU stays happy, and the Miseri have more free time.”
Kiefer: “More time to help us.”
Ember: “Enough time to maybe help you.”
Doog: “No thanks. I’m good.”

Ember: “Don’t be afraid, Doog. The Miseri are gentle beings.”
Doog: “They are unusual, that’s for sure. They’re not a Progenitor race, are they?”
Graal: “We are not.”
Doog: “Oh, you speak basic.”
Graal: “I do, friend. Let me help you. I feel your pain.”
Doog: “That’s not necessary. I’m fine being how I am.”
Ember: “Amaya said he would be resistant.”
Doog: “Wait! Amaya sent me here on purpose?”
Kiefer: “You need help, buddy. She’s just trying to help.”
Doog: “I AM being punished! I should have known!”

Graal: “Working through your issues is not a punishment. It is a gift. Let me touch you.”
Doog: “No, I’m good. Hey! Stop!”

Doog: “No! Mom! Don’t go! I’ll be better!”
Gma: “It will be ok, Terrance. She’ll be back soon.”

Doog: “Get off me! I don’t want you in there!”
Graal: “I just want to help.”

Ember: “Doog! Come back, Doog!”
Kiefer: “It’s always hard at the beginning. You have to work through the pain.”
Doog: “I don’t have any pain! Notch! Where are you?! Where did you go?!”

Kiefer: “He’s gone, Doog. He won’t be back for a few weeks.”
Doog: “A few weeks!”
Ember: “Amaya thought it would be wise to spend your time between seasons working on yourself.”
Doog: “They’re leaving me here between seasons?! What about my time off?!”
Graal: “I sense your fear. Just relax. We won’t push too hard. We’ll start off slow.”
Doog: “I can’t believe they did this to me!”

Ember: “Doog! What are you doing?”
Doog: “I’m swimming back to the platform! I will not be denied…my…huff…my time…off…”
Graal: “I think he’s drowning.”
Ember: “He only swam a few meters.”
Kiefer: “I’ve got you, buddy! Take the preserver!”

​Doog: “Huff…there’s…there’s no escape. Is there?”
Ember: “No, Doog. The platform is miles away. There aren’t any ships that fly here directly.”
Kiefer: “Like it or not, you’re our guest for the next two weeks. You don’t have to work on yourself, but there’s not much else to do.”
Graal: “You know what you really can’t escape? Your past. Let me help you.”
Doog: “Well folks, I’m stuck on Misericors. I don’t know what to say. This is going to be the worst.”
 
Note:

Oldie: “Oh man, he’s going to be so mad.”
Amaya: “Don’t be concerned about Doog. Worry about yourself. Eat the fruit.”
Oldie: “I am. I am. This is like my third piece today.”
Amaya: “Better make it five.”
Mike: “Are we really leaving him there for two weeks?”
Amaya: “Doog needs this. His reckless behavior has cost us too many times. Maybe they can get to the root of his problems. Worst case scenario, we pick up the same old Doog in two weeks, but, this way, we know he isn’t getting into trouble in between seasons.”
Oldie: “Didn’t Mike screw up Also? Maybe he should be there too?”
Mike: “Shut it, Oldie!”
Amaya: “Mike is a follower. We fix Mike by fixing Doog.”
Mike: “I’m not a follower!”
Amaya: “We can take you back there, if you want, or you can come with us to Bulla Bulla. You decide.”
Mike: “I…uh…will go with you guys.”

Doog: “I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s at least ninety years old. Of course, he’s bedridden.”
Oldie: “I’m only in my sixties!”
Doog: “Pfft. In what star system?”
Amaya: “This isn’t a joke, Doog! Oldie has been sick for over a week. Something is wrong.”
Doog: “He’s weak and tired. I don’t think that is unusual for someone his age. That’s all I’m saying.”
Amaya: “It’s more than that. He’s also bleeding from his mouth.”
Doog: “Maybe his dentures are too tight?”
Oldie: “I don’t wear dentures!”
Mike: “I brought Oldie some pony soup in a cup. This always makes him feel better.”
Oldie: “I don’t think I can keep anything down.”
Doog: “Oldie is turning down pony soup? Maybe something really is wrong.”

Amaya: “Seitse, have you had any luck?”
Seitse: “We’re essentially in the middle of nowhere. There’s not a lot of options. If we want to find a legit medical facility, we need to head back towards the Mid-Rim. We’re at least two days out.”
Amaya: “That’s too long. What about a not so legit medical facility?”
Seitse: “There’s a ‘class E’ facility a few hours away. It’s based out of an asteroid called Nusquam.”
Amaya: “Class E isn’t that bad. That’s a basic emergency hospital.”
Seitse: “The hospital is fine, but this Nusquam-place isn’t. It has several warnings associated with it.”
Amaya: “Like what?”
Seitse: “Commerce crime, commercial theft, racketeering, and hijacking.”
Doog: “I’m no expert, but that sounds like a fancy way of saying that there are pirates nearby.”
Seitse: “That’s the vibe that I’m getting.”
Amaya: “We don’t have a choice. Oldie needs help now. Besides, we’re not a commercial vessel with cargo. We’ll be fine. Plot the course.”
Seitse: “You’re the boss.”

Doog: “Well folks, we’re headed to a trading-station on the asteroid, Nusquam. Nusquam is located in a sparse, isolated region of the Outer-Rim. I guess this makes it a good target for pirates. Lucky us. I hope saving Oldie is worth risking all of our lives – I mean, he’s lived longer than all of us combined.”
Oldie: “I’m not that old! Cough! Cough!”
Amaya: “Stop agitating Oldie, Doog!”

Doog: “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. This looks like a standard space-station. There’s not a pirate in sight.”
Mike: “The station is probably safe. It’s the pirates flying around the outside that are the threat. I think we’re good now that we’re inside.”
Amaya: “We’re still not taking any chances. We splitting into two even groups. Cam, Timbo, and I will take Oldie. The rest of you need to stay with the ship. Park the Magellan somewhere well lit. Don’t let anyone inside. Report any suspicious activity nearby.”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. We’ll go into full Karen-mode. We’ll report everyone.”
Amaya: “Good. Stay safe. We’ll be back soon.”

Doog: “Now that Chief Worrywart is gone, what are we really going to do?”
Seitse: “We’re really going to get on the ship and follow Amaya’s instructions. Come on.”
Doog: “Speak for yourself. We spend ninety percent of the year crammed in that ship. This is valuable Magellan-free time.”
Seitse: “I’m not the boss, and, even if I was, you’d probably still disobey me. I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you. Come on, Mike, let’s get back in the ship.”
Mike: “Uh…Doog does have a point.”
Seitse: “Really? You too, Mike?”
Mike: “I just need to stretch my legs for a bit.”
Doog: “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t have any credits. I don’t think we can get into too much trouble.”
Mike: “And, no one will want to rob us.”
Seitse: “Whatever. I’ll text you where we park. If you’re smart, you’ll be back there before Amaya returns. If she finds out you defied her orders again, you won’t have to worry about the space pirates murdering you.”

Mike: “Seriously, though, what are we going to do? We really don’t have any credits.”
Doog: “I might have lied about that.”
Mike: “What! How do you have credits and I don’t?”
Doog: “Remember when you and Amaya sent me to that cannibal-planet?”
Mike: “Yeah…”
Doog: “Amaya gave me a bonus because I almost died.”
Mike: “Hey! That was my idea to send you there! I should get part of that!”
Doog: “You almost got me killed! Why do you deserve part of the bonus?!”
Mike: “Because, if I didn’t send you there, you wouldn’t have almost died, and therefore wouldn’t have gotten a bonus.”
Doog: “You have a point, but I’m splitting it 80/20. I’m the one that almost died after all.”
Mike: “That’s fair, I guess.”

Mike: “What are we going to do with the credits? Food sounds good.”
Doog: “What do we always do with our credits?”
Mike: “Lose them in some ridiculous manner before we get to spend them on stuff we actually want?”
Doog: “Uh, well yeah. Let me rephrase. What do we always try to spend our extra credits on?”
Mike: “Brothels?”
Doog: “Yes, sir.”

​Mike: “Is my twenty percent cut of the bonus going to be enough for a brothel?”
Doog: “I’m not going to lie. You’ll probably have to slum it. I’m guessing you’re going to have to go non-human.”
Mike: “Uh…”
Doog: “Look, there’s some Hobots over here. They’re probably cheap.”
Mike: “Er, I might shop around a bit. These mechanical prostitutes always give me chafing.”
Doog: “Too much info, buddy. But, you’re right. I’m sure we can find something else. If this place is really associated with pirates, then there’s bound to be some pirate wenches around here.”
 
Meanwhile: 

Cam: “Hang in there, buddy. You’re safe now.”
Amaya: “Doctor, did you find anything?”
Doctor: “This is not something I’m familiar with. I’ll need some time to run some tests.”
Amaya: “Whatever it takes.”

Mike: “We’ve almost circled the whole station. I smell the food again.”
Doog: “You can’t tell me that this place doesn’t have a legitimate brothel. It’s so remote that it’s practically a necessity out here.”
Mike: “We can go back to the Hobots.”
Doog: “Pass. If I wanted to indulge in mechanical stimulation, I wouldn’t have left the Magellan. We have a perfectly good condenser in the laundry room.”
Mike: “Eww, what have you been doing with the condenser?”
Doog: “Nothing yet, but I’d pick that over those Hobots. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
Mike: “That has literally never crossed my mind, you weirdo.”

Doog: “We’ve been sticking to the main path. Maybe we need to detour down one of these alleys.”
Mike: “I thought we were looking for a brothel, not a way to get murdered.”
Doog: “Don’t be a baby. There’s not been a single sign of danger on this station. The computer warnings are way off.”
Mike: “I think I might go back to the ship. With my limited credits, I can’t afford a prostitute that is worth dying over.”
Doog: “Fine, I’ll split it 70/30.”
Mike: “50/50.”
Doog: “60/40, and that’s my final offer.”
Mike: “Fine. At least it will be worth it now if we get murdered.”

Doog: “Alright, this looks promising.”
Mike: “It’s a dead end.”
Doog: “Yeah, but look at the sign.”
Mike: “I can’t read Presciant.”
Doog: “Not the written stuff. The ‘Soap and Suds’ sign. Cleans it all – that is definitely an innuendo, and the girl is winking at us.”
Mike: “I don’t know. It could just be a weird laundromat sign. Travelers in this remote part of the galaxy might need an actual laundromat.”
Doog: “You’re so wrong. Watch this.”
Mike: “They have guns, Doog. You better be right.”
Doog: “I think that cements that I’m right. Why would a laundromat have armed security?”

Security #1: “Stand still for a scan.”
Doog: “Will do.”
Security #1: “Subjects not listed in law enforcement database. Initiate final test.”
Security #2: “Are you law enforcement officers?”
Doog: “No.”
Mike: “Nope.”
Security #2: “Statements register as truthful.”
Security #1: “You may enter. Lex Indutiae is in effect.”
Doog: “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
 
​
Meanwhile: 

Doctor: “I’ve treated hundreds of gunshot wounds and thousands of stabbings, but this is a first. It’s sort of ironic given our location.”
Amaya: “What’s wrong with him, doctor?”
Doctor: “It appears that Mr. Douglas has a severe vitamin C deficiency. It’s sometimes referred to as scurvy.”
Amaya: “Scurvy?”
Doctor: “Yes. It means that Mr. Douglas has not consumed any vitamin C in several weeks.”
Amaya: “When they said that all he eats is pony soup…I thought they were exaggerating…”

Doog: “Hopefully, all that scrutiny means that we’re in the right place.”
Mike: “If brothels are legal in most of the LIU, why are they so worried about the police?”
Doog: “I don’t know. Maybe the escorts are all former criminals.”
Mike: “Maybe, but I don’t see many women here.”
Doog: “You’re right. There is an unusual number of people wearing skull and crossbones on their hats too.”
Mike: “I don’t think we found the brothels. I think we found the pirates. They’re on this station after all.”

--Gun Click--
Jolly: “Arr, tis me lucky day. My ol’ friend Doog has come to me doorstep.”
Doog: “Jolly…Doom. Is…is…that you?”
Jolly: “That be Capt’n Jolly Doom to you, scallywag.”
Doog: “I thought we settled our debt on Consumerist Eve a few years back. Why do you have a gun to my head?”
Jolly: “Settled? More like postponed, if me memory serves me right.”
Doog: “Can we, like maybe, postpone it again for a few years?”
Jolly: “Haha, you wish, landlubber. No one steals from Jolly Doom.”
Doog: “Did we really steal from you? You hijacked us and took our fuel cells. We just took some of your money so we could replace them. I think we’re even.”
Jolly: “Arr! No one takes me booty for any reason!”
Doog: “Uh, yeah. No need to get mad. You’re totally right. We screwed up. Just don’t kill us.”

Jolly: “Kill ye? I think not. At least, not here. The Nusquam shadow-port operates under the law of truces. Lex Indutiae is in effect.”
Doog: “So, we’re free to go?”
Jolly: “Sure. You two are free to leave the safety of the port anytime. I’d be glad if ye did. Outside of the port, no laws can save ye.”
Doog: “I guess this ‘shadow-port’ is my new home then. Since I’m living here forever now, can you tell me what exactly is a ‘shadow-port’?”

Jolly: “Arr, it is what it says it is. A shadow-port is a hidden place of trade for people like me. The LIU has little presence here. Us pirates can be pirates while safe from the authority of the LIU.”

Jolly: “It’s a safe place to fence our loot. A place for me crew to part-out hijacked vessels and equipment.”

Jolly: “It be a place for us capt’ns to congregate – share information, barter territories, and exchange crew.”

Jolly: “It also be a place to play our favorite game, Space Dominoes.”
 

Meanwhile:

Amaya: “The good news, Oldie will be fine. He just had scurvy. It’s easily treatable. The bad news, there are pirates on Nusquam. The doctor said there’s dozens of pirate crews here. Are you guys alright?”
Seitse: “Hugo and I are fine. No one has approached the ship.”
Amaya: “What about Mike and Doog?”
Seitse: “They wouldn’t get on the ship. We left them. They’re on the station somewhere.”
Amaya: “What!”
Seitse: “Sorry, they wouldn’t listen. I sort of hoped they’d be back by now, but I haven’t heard anything from them for an hour.”
Amaya: “Prep the ship to leave. I’ll walk Cam, Timbo, and Oldie back to the ship, but then I’m going to find Doog.”
Seitse: “Don’t go alone if there are pirates here!”
Amaya: “I’ll be fine. Is the Hover Cam broadcasting?”
Seitse: “Yes.”
Amaya: “Send me the coordinates.”

Oldie: “I feel better already. I could use a big tub of pony soup to celebrate.”
Amaya: “No! You’re eating nothing but fruits and vegetables for the next month!”
Oldie: “Yikes, ok. What got into you?”
Amaya: “Doog has disobeyed me for the last time. Once again, he’s endangered the crew with his idiocy. Once we get back to the ship, I’m going to find him!”

Doog: “Whoa, whoa! Why are you pushing us out here?!”
Jolly: “The law of truces doesn’t apply in the maintenance tunnels.”
Doog: “Sure it does! We’re still in the shadow-port, right?”
Jolly: “If you wenches have an accident in the tunnels, me thinks that no law will be broken. Now walk the plank.”

Doog: “Alright! Alright! What do you want?!”
Jolly: “I want me booty back. All of it…plus interest.”
Doog: “Ok, ok. We can’t pay you back if you push us into the fan. Give us a chance.”
Jolly: “I’m listening.”
Mike: “Give him the bonus money!”
Doog: “Sure, but I don’t think ten credits is going to even us out.”
Mike: “Ten credits! That’s all you had?!”
Doog: “Well, yeah.”
Mike: “What kind of brothel were we looking for! You were only going to give me two credits!”
Doog: “Let’s not fight amongst ourselves!”
Jolly: “Arr, ten credits won’t do.”
Doog: “We have a ship. A newer one. It’s even better than the one you originally raided. We can give you the ship.”
Jolly: “You have peaked me interests. You can live for now. Bring me to your ship.”

Mike: “What’s the plan?”
Doog: “What do you mean? The plan is to give Jolly Doom whatever he wants. I wasn’t lying, he can take the Magellan.”
Mike: “What about our crewmates?”
Doog: “They can live with us on Nusquam forever. I’m sure we can survive here with our combined skills.”

Amaya: “You half-brained idiots! I’ve been looking for you!”
Doog: “Uh, Amaya. This isn’t the time. Let me introduce you to…”
Amaya: “Let ME introduce you to my left fist, and then my right! I’m so mad I can’t see straight! Oldie was so sick! We needed to work together to help one of our own! And you two idiots couldn’t even behave for one hour! You have no compassion, no sense of teamwork, no self-control! You will pay for this!”

Jolly: “Arr, you be a fiery one, but I’m afraid you all will be paying for this. Jolly Doom always gets his…”
Amaya: “Get your what! You think you can steal from me! I’m Amaya Moneta. I’m an elite citizen!”
Jolly: “Your titles mean nothing to…”
Amaya: “Really! I activated my distress chip! The LIU will be swarming this place in no time!”
Jolly: “I’m not scared of the LIU!”
Amaya: “Really? Then why hide in a ‘shadow-port?”
Jolly: “I…uh…”
Amaya: “As dumb as these two idiots are, they at least brought the Hover Cam! They’ve been recording everything you’ve said and done. The LIU will see it! That’s the end of Nusquam’s days as a pirate sanctuary. This place will be locked down so hard!”
Jolly: “We don’t have to…”
Amaya: “And what will your fellow pirates do? They’ll all know that you brought the LIU here.”
Jolly: “I didn’t bring…”
Amaya: “Then shut your pirate mouth and get out of here! Now!”
Jolly: “You live yet again, Doog. But this is not an excuse for your debt. Just another postponement. I will have me revenge.”

Doog: “Whoa. That was awesome. You punked out Jolly Doom, one of the galaxy’s most notorious pirates. I think I might be turned on.”
Amaya: “You’re about to be turned off – as, like, rendered unconscious. I want to hit you SO hard! I’m not even mad at those dumb pirates! I’m mad at you two halfwits! You turned your back on Oldie and the rest of your crew! This won’t go unpunished! Get back to the ship, NOW!”
Doog: “Alright, alright.”

Doog: “Well folks, that was a mess. Nusquam turned out to be a pirate sanctuary. It looks like crews of space pirates meet here to trade, plot, and plunder. I’m not sure Nusquam will continue in this role after Amaya’s tirade. Was she bluffing or did she really get the LIU involved? Who knows? I’m not going to ask her – she seems a bit upset at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a hiding space on the Magellan. I don’t want to cross paths with Amaya for a least a week. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​
Note: There are a dozen or so ‘shadow-ports’ in the galaxy’s Outer Rim. These secret ports serve the galactic underground, like the Slavers’ Guild, spice traders, pirates, and the bankers of Tri-Loans. The LIU aggressively searches for these ports, but they are rarely discovered. Nusquam was once one of these ports, but it has since been raided by LIU forces.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re checking out the circumbinary planet, Dualis. Dualis orbits two stars, Iphis and Ianthe. Depending on its location within this orbit, Dualis experiences different seasons. When Iphis is the dominate – or closer – star, Dualis experiences mild weather, but when Ianthe is the dominate star, Dualis experiences much harsher weather and more intense UV radiation. I’m told these varying solar seasons impact life on Dualis, including the sentient race that has emerged here. The only way to find out, for sure, is to land our ship and check it out. Let’s go.”

​Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on a small landing platform on Dualis’ surface. I can see both of Dualis’ stars in the sky, but Iphis is clearly closer. That’s good for us. We’re here during Dualis’ mild season. Other than that, there’s not much else to talk about. There’s no major structures or signs of advanced life.”

Doog: “There IS this creepy impaled robot-thing. What are you supposed to be? Some type of mechanical scarecrow?”

DAK: “Introduction: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “Holy Emperor! You’re alive. You scared the crap out of me you stupid robot! What were you doing up there?”
DAK: “Statement: I was utilizing conduction charging while in standby mode. Note: This is standard procedure while offline.”
Doog: “Yeah, ok. I guess. Just, give a guy a little warning next time. Geesh.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return to standby mode.”

DAK: “Analysis: You are a human male with video and audio recording equipment. Conclusion: You are Terrance McDoogal. Secondary Appellation: Doog.”
Doog: “Uh, if you’re asking my name…then, yes, I am Doog.”
DAK: “Identity Confirmed. Inquiry: Are you ready to commence planetary tour?”
Doog: “Yeah, definitely. If you could point me to my guide, that’d be great. Then you can go back to hanging out on that pole.”
DAK: “Refutation: I am your guide.”
Doog: “Oh no, I’m not touring this planet with a metal scarecrow that talks funny.”
DAK: “Inquiry: Do you speak Dualigent, the natives’ language?”
Doog: “No.”
DAK: “Statement: I am the only entity on this planet that is capable of communicating with you. Conclusion: I am the only suitable guide on Dualis.”
Doog: “Sigh. I guess I have no choice.”

Doog: “So, there’s no other sentients here, other than the natives? No humans? Or Tressans? Or anything?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Correct.”
Doog: “What about you. Why are you here?”
DAK: “Recapitulation: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “Yeah, you already said that. Do you have a limited number of phrases or something?”
DAK: “Clarification: My purpose is defined in my name. I am here to assist with dictation.”
Doog: “I’m still not sure I get it.”
DAK: “Simplification: I am a translation tool. Note: I can speak Basic and Dualigent.”
Doog: “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return to standby mode.”

DAK: “Inquiry: Do you wish to learn about Dualis’ vegetation?”
Doog: “Uh, sure. Why not?”
DAK: “Statement: Dualis’ vegetation consists of one organism. Appellation: The organism is called Shros. Factual Declaration: Shros is a non-vascular, flowerless Bryophyte containing simple cellular leaves and tall reproductive stalks called sporophytes.”
Doog: “Do that simplify thing again because I have no idea what you’re saying.”
DAK: “Simplification: Shros is a moss.”
Doog: “That’s better. So, there’s only moss on Dualis?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes.”
Doog: “Why is that?”

DAK: “Theorization: More advanced plants cannot survive the Ianthe season.”
Doog: “That’s right. I forgot about the whole two stars and different sun seasons.”
DAK: “Statement: Increases in ultraviolet radiation during the Ianthe season actually kills off large portions of the Shros population. Approximately seventy percent of the Shros undergoes cellular sterilization. Simplification: Shros is harmed by UV radiation.”
Doog: “Yeah, no need to simplify that one. I know what sterilization means – not that I’ve had that problem or anything – plenty of alleged kids here – everything works. While we’re on this subject, though, am I safe here? Will this UV harm me?”
DAK: “Reassurance: Ianthe season is twenty weeks away. Your minimal exposure will not result in any harm.”
Doog: “Phew. Good.”

DAK: “Announcement: We have arrived in a settlement. Statement: Dualis’ sentient race lives in previously identified settlement. Appellation: The native race is known as the Dualog.”
Doog: “They look…primitive.”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog do not purposely manufacture any advanced metals or materials. Observation: The Dualog utilize stone tools and stone buildings. Summation: The Dualog are a stone-age civilization. Assertion: The Dualog are primitive compared to galactic standard.”
Doog: “That’s a long way to say that you agree.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return…”
Doog: “Don’t waste your time.”

Doog: “So, you can speak their language?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes.”
Doog: “If the LIU programmed you to speak with the locals, then they must be good for something, right?”
DAK: “Declaration: The LIU trades with the locals. Statement: I am a tool for facilitating trade.”
Doog: “Do the locals get anything? Why do they live so primitively if they’re trading with the LIU?”
DAK: “Evasion: I am not permitted to discuss trade arrangements.”
Doog: “You know, it’s not really dodging my question if you identify it as an evasion while you speak.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request…”
Doog: “Again, that’s not necessary.”

Doog: “What does the LIU get from these guys? Moss?”
DAK: “Refutation: No. Statement: Shros is used as both a foodstuff and building material. Summation: Neither are of interest to the LIU.”
Doog: “This moss is both breakfast and a rooftile, and the LIU wants nothing to do with it?”
DAK: “Explanation: Shros is an inefficient building material. Acknowledgment: Shros does block UV radiation. Counter: Shros is not water resistant. Counter: Shros is inefficient thermo-insulator. Summation: While Shros is useful to the natives, it is not comparable to more advanced building material utilized by the LIU.”

Doog: “What about its use as a food?”
DAK: “Vociferate: Shros is inefficient nutrient source as compared to cheaper, more-easily collected alternatives. Note: Shros not identified as tasty.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog show early signs of civilization advancement. Explanation: The Dualog have begun to farm Shros. Note: Sharpened stone tools are used to cut and relocate Shros.”
Doog: “That’s good for the Dualog, but I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.”
DAK: “Process: Computing. Recapitulation: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “I know. I know. You’re a translation tool. But, why did the LIU send a translation tool to Dualis? What’s useful to the LIU on Dualis?”

DAK: “Comparison: Like the Shros, the Dualog are subject to the planet’s solar seasons. Statement: The Dualog have developed many strategies to combat UV radiation. List: The Dualog possess skin hoods to protect their brain and eyes from UV exposure. List: The Dualog have thick, reflective skin. List: The Dualog utilize simple tools to build stone homes that are UV resistant. List: The Dualog undergo a two-stage life cycle – nymph and adult.”
Doog: “Huh? What was that last one?”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog youth are born in underground chambers where they are protected from UV radiation. Note: In this youthful nymph stage, the Dualog are mostly aquatic. Analysis: The nymphs undergo metamorphosis inside cocoons to become adults. Note: Only adults live on the surface.”
Doog: “Are you saying there are Dualog babies down there? Can we see them?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes. Warning: Entering the cavern from this height will be deadly. Exclamation: The cavern is thirty meters deep. Request: Follow me to alternative entrance.”
Doog: “Ok.”

DAK: “Assertion: Dualog nymphs are present in this pool.”
Doog: “Yeah, I see them. They are sort of creepy. They don’t look much like the adults.”
DAK: “Concurrence: Nymphs and adults are not similar.”

DAK: “Assessment: Dualog nymphs are unable to care for themselves. Note: Pools do not contain many useful nutrients. Conclusion: Dualog adults care for nymphs by dropping Shros into the pools.”

DAK: “Factual declaration: Pools do contain numerous minerals. Statement: Dualog nymphs collect previously mentioned minerals. Result: Nymphs are able to construct hardened metallic cocoons that are highly resistant to UV radiation.”
Doog: “The babies make metal cocoons? Wow.”
DAK: “Statement: The organometallic cocoons contain beneficial materials. Notation: Cocoons are useful to the LIU.”
Doog: “The LIU comes here for the cocoons? What are they made of?”
DAK: “Tergiversate: We can witness a birth. Follow me.”

Doog: “Oh, that is gross. The smell, the mucus, the slime – it all reminds me of my ex-girlfriend.”
DAK: “Error: Unknown statement.”
Doog: “Simplification – my ex is really gross.”
DAK: “Neutral reply: Ok.”
Doog: “I want to press you more on the make-up of these cocoons, but I also want to get away from this wriggling, putrid afterbirth.”
DAK: “Conclusion: Let’s leave the nymph caverns.”

DAK: “Statement: In addition to my translation duties, I am tasked with collecting and storing metallic remnants of Dualog cocoons.”
Doog: “What metal makes these cocoons so useful to the LIU?”
DAK: “Prevarication: The Dualog only reproduce during the safer Iphis solar season. Inference: Cocoons are only produced every thirty-seven months. Summation: It is not efficient for LIU to staff Dualis fulltime. Addendum: The LIU only collects organometals every three years.”
Doog: “That didn’t answer my question.”
DAK: “Tergiversate: That concludes planetary tour.”
Doog: “Why can’t you tell me what makes these cocoons so useful?”
DAK: “Statement: Organometal is valuable. Factual Declaration: The LIU is not actively present on Dualis. Statement: Stockpiles of valuable materials are not well protected. Theorization: To protect said assets, I have been programmed to avoid discussing said assets.”
Doog: “Uh, ok. If you say so.”

Doog: “Well folks – summation – I hate the way this robot talks. Statement – it is super annoying. But I guess we did learn a bit about this planet. Dualis orbits two stars and its proximity to either changes the amount of radiation striking the planet. The life here – from simple moss to the sentient Dualog – evolved to deal with these changing solar patterns. The locals are of particular interest to the LIU. They undergo a metamorphosis from nymph to adult as a way to avoid the UV solar seasons. To do this, they make these cool metal cocoons. Their reproduction cycles are tied to the solar seasons, so they don’t make these cocoons often. In fact, they are made so infrequently, the LIU doesn’t bother to staff the planet fulltime. They just left this weird-talking, scarecrow-looking robot-guy here to take care of business. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: The LIU collects approximately 5,000 metric tons of Dualog cocoons every three years. The shiny, lustrous organometals are mostly used in jewelry and decorative pieces. They are valued due to their rarity.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Tabes. Tabes is emerging from ice age that lasted hundreds of millennia. Its temperature is rising, and many of the glaciers that once dominated Tabes are beginning to melt. The newly released water condenses into thick snow clouds, which insulate Tabes’ atmosphere, warming it even further. More importantly, the thawing ice is releasing ancient trapped gases, which the LIU collects. We’re going to head down to one of the collection-rigs on Tabes’ surface and check it out. Let’s go.”

Doog: “Alright folks, we’re approaching Gas-Mining Platform Khione IX, one of a dozen mining platforms stationed around Tabes. These platforms are positioned close to Tabes’ equator, where the warming and melting are more prominent.”

Doog: “Each mining platform employs and houses about one-hundred workers. All the workers here are imported, there’s no sentient-life native to Tabes. Well, that’s enough flying around. Let’s land on the platform.”

Doog: “Like I mentioned in this episode’s opening, despite warming temperatures, a lot of snow falls on Tabes. It has something to do with evaporating meltwater condensing in the cooler atmosphere as it gets pushed across the planet’s many mountain chains. Something like that. Luckily, the air temperature at this level is too warm for much of the snow to stick. It does make everything slick though. Given the fact that this landing platform is over twenty-stories high, I’m planning on waiting here – away from the edge – until my guide gets here.”

Tom: “You must be that Doog-fella. I’m Tom.”
Doog: “Hey, Tom.”
Tom: “So, how does this work?”
Doog: “Hey! That’s my line!”
Tom: “Huh? I’m just asking what we do next.”
Doog: “I know, I’m just kidding. Typically, you tell me about the work you’re doing on Tabes, and I say things like, ‘how does this work?’.”
Tom: “Oh. Well, this is a gas-mining platform, and we collect various gases released by the melting ice. Most of the gases we collect are noble gases – like helium, xenon, neon, etc. – that have been trapped in the ice since the planet formed.”
Doog: “How does it work?”

Tom: “We employ fractal distillation in combination with mol sieves to extract most resources.”
Doog: “I have no idea what that means.”
Tom: “I don’t either. I’m just regurgitating this script they gave me. I’m just the janitor.”
Doog: “Janitor! Why did they send the janitor!?”
Tom: “Everyone else was busy, I guess.”
Doog: “I’m here to tell my viewers about gas mining, not scrubbing toilets and taking out the trash!”
Tom: “Hey! I do more than that!”
Doog: “Sure you do.”
Tom: “Hey, I’m just as disappointed as you. They told me a TV personality was coming to Tabes. I thought it was going to be someone famous.”
Doog: “I am famous!”
Tom: “In what sector? I’ve never heard of you.”
Doog: “I’m galaxy renowned!”
Tom: “In what galaxy?”
Doog: “Whatever! Let’s just move on!”

Doog: “So, what are we touring now? The broom closets?”
Tom: “Very funny. We’re not touring anything. I’m taking you to the surface so you can get out of here.”
Doog: “Hey, I know I’ve been a little harsh about the whole ‘janitor’ thing, but there’s no need to kick me out.”
Tom: “As much as I’d love to kick you out, it has nothing to do with your disrespectful view of my profession.”
Doog: “Why are we leaving then?”
Tom: “You didn’t come to Tabes to tour the mining platform. Tabes has other areas of interest.”
Doog: “How does a janitor know that and I don’t?”
Tom: “Maybe janitor is a step higher than D-list TV host.”
Doog: “Pfft, I’m at least C-list.”
Tom: “Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you feel better. Let’s get in the elevator, that is, if your ego will fit.”
Doog: “Shouldn’t you be buffing these floors as we go – you know – for efficiency and stuff.”

Tom: “Well, here’s the surface. If you head west, you’ll find your actual guide.”
Doog: “Wait, you’re not coming with me?”
Tom: “Of course not. I have to get back to work.”
Doog: “How am I supposed to know which way is west? Is there some landmark or something?”
Tom: “This glacier is pretty monotonous. It’s just endless flat ice. I can’t think of any useful landmarks other than the mountains. Good luck seeing them in this visibility.”
Doog: “Oh, good.”
Tom: “I can tell you this, though – if you find yourself falling off an ice shelf into the icy water, you ventured too far south.”
Doog: “Gee, thanks Tom. You’ve been so helpful.”

Doog: “‘Just walk west. You’ll find your guide. It’s so easy’, says the stupid janitor. What does he know? If he was so smart, he’d be out here wandering aimlessly through a blizzard with me. If I make it back, I’m definitely crapping in one of the urinals. Take that Tom!”

Doog: “Wait! I hear something! Hello? Hello? Are you my guide?”

Doog: “Wha…wha…what are you?”
Creature: “GWAHHH!”
Doog: “Ahhhh!”

Doog: “Ahhh! Someone! Help me! Ahhh!”

Nikola: “I heard a woman screaming! Quick! We have to save her!”
Doog: “That might have been – uh, I mean – there was a woman, but I already saved her. Yeah. I’m totally manly. No screams came from this guy.”
Nikola: “Are you sure? Those high-pitched shrieks had me worried.”
Doog: “Absolutely. I wouldn’t make something like that up…I should, uh, probably get a reward or something.”
Nikola: “Why was she screaming?”
Doog: “There was this massive ape-thing out there with huge razor-sharp claws. It was probably going to kill me – uh, I mean – her.”
Nikola: “Uh huh, I see. Was the woman part of your film crew? Where is she?”
Doog: “No. I think she, uh, was from that gas mining platform or something. She probably went back there. Yeah, probably.”
Nikola: “Doubtful. Everyone that’s been on Tabes for more than a day knows what an Unguis is. If she was a local, she wouldn’t have been afraid. Unguis are herbivores. Despite their towering appearance and inquisitive nature, they’re quite harmless.”
Doog: “But the claws…”
Nikola: “They’re for digging into the ice.”
Doog: “I, uh…”
Nikola: “Are you sure that wasn’t you screaming?”
Doog: “It wasn’t me! Why are we still talking about this! I don’t have time to solve the mystery of the screaming woman! I’m trying to find my guide!”
Nikola: “Uh huh. Sure. Well, you’re in luck. I’m Nikola, your guide. Follow me back to my living quarters, we’ll talk there.”

Nikola: “Let’s start over. I’m Nikola. I’m a biologist. I was sent to Tabes to study the local plants and wildlife.”
Doog: “I’m Doog. I saved a woman. I didn’t scream. I also make a TV show.”
Nikola: “Fair enough.”
Doog: “So, you study those terrifying ape-monsters?”
Nikola: “Yes, but looks aside, Unguis are not terrifying. They’re slow moving, plant-eaters.”
Doog: “There doesn’t seem to be a lot of plants out here. How do they survive?”
Nikola: “That’s the thing, there are plants on Tabes – very unique plants. You won’t find them in the ice flats. The plants on Tabes are troglobites, or cave dwellers.”
Doog: “Cave plants?”
Nikola: “Yes, sir. Want to see some?”
Doog: “Sure.”
Nikola: “Let me attach the trailer to my hover-sled. That way, I can pull you behind.”
Doog: “That sounds great. I used up a lot of energy running from that – I mean, fighting that Unguis earlier.”

Doog: “Why are you on Tabes? I mean, why does the LIU support a biologist on this planet?”
Nikola: “Tabes is changing. Warming temperatures, the release of greenhouse gases, and industrial activity all but ensure that the ice ages of Tabes will never return. In a few decades, Tabes will be unrecognizable. Most of her ice will be gone.”
Doog: “And that means what?”
Nikola: “That means that most of the native life on Tabes will die off. Most species here have been deemed, pre-extinct.”
Doog: “That’s not good.”
Nikola: “No, it’s not. To make sure these species are not lost entirely, I’ve been tasked with collecting DNA samples, so it can be stored on the ARK on Tutari.”
Doog: “You have to collect DNA from every species? Even those taloned-apes?”
Nikola: “Yes. The Unguis were easy, though. It’s the plants that are difficult.”  

Doog: “What makes the plants so difficult? They don’t move, do they? We’re not talking about carnivorous plants, are we?”
Nikola: “No, no. Nothing like that. There’s just a lot of species, and they’re spread wide and far. It doesn’t help that we don’t even know the location of every cave. If we miss a cave – and it contains unique life – we might lose these species forever.”
Doog: “I guess that could be stressful.”

Nikola: “Here we are, one of a thousand caves we’ve discovered so far.”
Doog: “It is unique, for sure. I’ve never seen plants like this.”
Nikola: “Yeah, they’re pretty neat.”
Doog: “How does a plant even survive in a cave?”
Nikola: “I guess it’s not a true cave. The ceiling is made of ice. This allows some light to penetrate. The air trapped in the cave is heated by this light. It makes this environment much warmer than the outside. The heat even makes some of the ice melt, which drips down on the plants. That’s where they get their water.”
Doog: “So, if the ice ceiling disappears…”
Nikola: “…the system breaks. The temperature in here drops and the plants don’t get water. If the ceiling goes, the plants will die. Furthermore, these plants evolved to use the spectrum of light that penetrates the ice. Without the ice filter, these plants will not be able to photosynthesize correctly. Again, when the ice goes…the plants die.”

Doog: “How do these giant ape creatures fit into all of this?”
Nikola: “The Unguis use their claws to access the caves and eat the plants. Then they move on to the next cave. Their trips between the planet’s various caves help pollination.”
Doog: “So, when the plants die, the Unguis will go extinct too?”
Nikola: “Correct. They are entirely reliant on these cave plants to survive.”
Doog: “Got it. So, are you going to collect some samples or something?”
Nikola: “I’ve already collected DNA from all these species. They are some of the most widespread on Tabes. It’s the niche-species that are only found in a few caves that are my concern these days.”
Doog: “And, you said finding these caves are part of your problem?”
Nikola: “Yes. So far, the most reliable method is following around Unguis. They seem to have the ability to sniff out these rarer caves.”
Doog: “Is any of the life here useful?”
Nikola: “We’re not sure about the plants yet. They haven’t been closely studied. Sample collection takes priority for now. However, there certainly seems to be a market for the Unguis. We’ve already shipped several off-world. I think they’ll survive away from Tabes.”
Doog: “Anything else to point out?”
Nikola: “I’m pretty sure that was you screaming back there.”
Doog: “NO it wasn’t! It was that woman! I swear!”

​Doog: “Well folks, that’s Tabes. This ice world is melting. The melting ice is great for collecting gases, like helium, neon, and xenon, but it isn’t so great for the life that evolved here. Scientists like Nikola are trying to sample and catalogue all of Tabes’ native life before it is lost forever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to my editor to see if we can deepen the sound of my screams earlier. Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: The moon, Collum, is the largest importer of the ape-like Unguis. 

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Valetudo. Valetudo is one of those gross, swampy, jungle planets that I hate, but it is an important world in the LIU Galaxy. Valetudo is considered an Essential World, meaning that it gets much more funding and protection from the LIU. Why does Valetudo deserve this honor? Because it houses one of the galaxy’s largest medical facilities. Let’s head down and check it out.”

Doog: “Valetudo, being a tropical swamp world, had its fair share of diseases. The native race, the Va, invested most of their race’s technological progress into irradicating these diseases. Now, the Va are mostly disease free. When Valetudo was incorporated into the LIU, the natives’ medical knowledge and technology became a valuable asset of the Union. With funding from the LIU, a city-sized medical facility was built near the planet’s equator. This city – or medical facility – is called, Sospitas. That’s where we are headed.”

Doog: “Well folks, I’ve landed in Sospitas. Despite there being numerous skyscrapers, I’ve been dropped off at ground level – near the disgusting, scum-water of the swamp. The customary swamp smell is present, and there are plenty of creepy insects. Luckily, none of Valetudo’s insects are disease vectors anymore. I guess I have that to be excited about. Maybe the next step should be irradicating this overpowering smell. It smells worse than a stripper pole out here.”

Doog: “Oh good…a robot. What do you want little buddy? Are you here to annoy me or something? Do you filter swamp air?”

​Dr. A: “Actually, this is a portable Holo-Bot. I’m Dr. Asclepius, but you can call me, Dr. A.”
Doog: “Dr. A. That sounds good, but why aren’t you here in person? I can get a holographic guide every planet I visit – physical appearances matter in this show.”
Dr. A: “This is a colossal facility spread throughout dozens of multi-story buildings. In order to see everything Valetudo has to offer – in an acceptable amount of time – we need distance technology. Besides, holo-tech is widespread here. It allows doctors like myself to treat thousands of patients a day instead of a few dozen.”
Doog: “I guess. It just seems impersonal.”
Dr. A: “The patients don’t seem to mind. Holographic care is pretty common in our galaxy.”
Doog: “Now that I think about it, I wish STD centers had this tech. It would save me some embarrassment.”
Dr. A: “Uh, sure. Anyway, shall we get started?”
Doog: “Holo-guide-me to the destination, Doc Assclapius. Err…Dr. A.”

Dr. A: “I’ve started our tour in Sospitas’ largest building, the VFB or Valetudo Factory Building.”
Doog: “Factory? I thought this was some type of fancy medical center.”
Dr. A: “Oh, it is. The VFB makes medical equipment, most of which was developed by the Va.”

Dr. A: “Interestingly enough, here’s a Va now.”
Frank (Va): “Good morning, Dr. Asclepius.”
Dr. A: “Morning, Frank! This is Doog, a reporter with TV2.”
Frank: “Welcome Doog. I presume you’re here to do a story on the Med-Scanner upgrades. It’s now compatible with 97% of this galaxy’s sentient species”
Doog: “No.”
Frank: “Perhaps it’s our breakthrough in treating the Ferventis Sanguinis Virus.”
Doog: “Nope.”
Dr. A: “Frank, Doog is more of an educational reporter. He’s here to show the galaxy what we do here on Valetudo.”
Doog: “Spoilsport, I was going to let him keep guessing.”
Frank: “Ah, yes. We must always think of the youth. Education is key. Well, I won’t hold you up any longer.”
Dr. A: “Follow me to the right, Doog.”

Dr. A: “In order to protect the LIU’s technology trade, I’ve only been granted permission to show you some end-stage production.”
Doog: “First the impersonal hologram…then the shortcuts.”
Dr. A: “It’s not a shortcut. A lot of the technology developed by the Va and the LIU is exported to other galaxies. Showing exact production procedures will expose company secrets and stunt profits.”
Doog: “I guess. What am I seeing here?”
Dr. A: “End-stage production of our Health-Bots.”
Doog: “Health-Bots? They look familiar.”
Dr. A: “Our patented Health-Bots are in use in many hospitals, doctor’s offices, convalescent homes, and eldercare facilities. I’m sure you’ve run across a few in your travels.”

Doog: “Are they like robot doctors or something?”
Dr. A: “They’re more like robot-nurses. They have scanners and equipment that run basic medical tests. They also have the ability to administer medications and vitamins. Despite their powerful medical subroutines, they still rely on doctors for diagnoses. It’s safer that way.”
Doog: “Hmm, got it.”
Dr. A: “Let’s move on.”

Dr. A: “The VFB is also the galaxy’s largest producer of Mel Tanks. Va Mel Tanks are top-of-the-line too. They have some of the most advanced diagnostic and monitoring tools available, allowing lower amounts of Mel to be utilized.”
Doog: “You make glass cubes. Amazing.”
Dr. A: “It’s more than that…”

Dr. A: “Ok, Health-Bots and Mel Tanks are so standard these days, that they might not seem all that exciting, but medicines are both vital and life-saving.”
Doog: “You make medicines here too?”
Dr. A: “We mass-produce dozens of pharmaceuticals on Valetudo, including major drugs like Hygieia, Jengu, Anahit, and Ixchel.”
Doog: “Some of those sound familiar.”
Dr. A: “I’m not sure if that ‘STD Center’ comment you said earlier was a joke or not, but you might have heard of them there. Jengu and Ixchel are both powerful antibiotics.”
Doog: “Which of those is in an ointment form?”
Dr. A: “Ixchel.”
Doog: “That would be it. I always thought it was called ‘Itch Gel’ though.”
Dr. A: “That’s some powerful stuff. You might want to reconsider the people you…uh…associate with.”
Doog: “I’m not made of money, doc.”

Dr A: “That wraps up the VFB. In order to see other places within Sospitas – in a timely manner – we need to stop by my office.”
Doog: “Your office is in the factory building?”
Dr A: “Sure, why not. With this technology, my office could be in a broom closet eight light years from here. The location doesn’t really matter.”

Doog: “It’s a nice office – minus the ugly old hag over there. Why do you keep patients in your office?”
Dr. A: “That’s not a patient! That’s me! I’m in upload!”
Doog: “I…uh…did I say old hag?”
Dr. A: “Actually, you said UGLY old hag!”
Doog: “Sorry. Your hologram looks so different, though. I didn’t expect the real you to be so less attract…er…youthful.”
Dr. A: “I’m actually uploaded into the bot. The hologram is just a projected image. I can make my avatar look however I want!”
Doog: “Seems a little like ‘catfishing’, but to each their own.”
Dr. A: “It’s NOT catfishing! It’s the same as wearing makeup or nice clothes or anything else!”
Doog: “Yeah, sure. I guess.”
Dr. A: “Just lay down in that upload bed over there so we can move on. I want to get this tour over with!”

Dr. A: “Who’s catfishing now?”
Doog: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dr. A: “Where did your shirt go? When did you get abs?”
Doog: “Oh, I guess my shirt fell off during upload.”
Dr. A: “It didn’t fall off during upload! I can see your body behind you, with its shirt on.”
Doog: “Hmm, weird. I’m not sure what happened then. Oh, and thanks for mentioning my abs, I’ve been working out.”
Dr. A: “Those aren’t your abs, you hypocrite!”
Doog: “That’s enough body shaming, Doc. Perhaps we should move on.”
Dr. A: “Sigh. Whatever. Transferring our uploads to new Holo-Bots.”

Doog: “What the heck? Is this a school?”
Dr. A: “It is. Valetudo houses one of the largest and most prestigious medical schools in the galaxy. Millions of the LIU’s best doctors were trained here.”
Doog: “Hey, I’m back at college, but – this time – I have abs. If you’ll excuse me, I need to meet some of these young lady doctors.”
Dr. A: “Good luck with that. I’ve disabled our avatars so we won’t distract the lesson.”
Doog: “What! No! I need this! I might never have abs at a college again!”
Dr. A: “Transferring our uploads…”
Doog: “Nooo…”

Dr. A: “The hundred-story Vedius Building is a medical research center with hundreds of laboratories, workshops, and offices.”
Doog: “And no college aged ladies wanting to see these sick abs.”
Dr. A: “The Vedius Building is the galaxy’s leader in new medical technologies, like AI diagnostics, full-body scanners, new medicines, artificial tissues and organs, and so on.”
Doog: “I could have been doing live-action body scans, but you hid my abs.”

Dr. A: “Ahem, this particular lab is focusing on bone studies.”
Doog: “I could have been doing some bone studies with those college…”
Dr. A: “Stop! Skeletal studies. Ok, Skeletal studies. I shouldn’t have said bone around you.”

Dr. A: “This lab is researching faster ways to mend bon…uh…skeletons, make artificial skeletons, and replace marrow. I think I said that in an incorruptible way.”
Doog: “You did good, Doc. I don’t think that was twistable. Too late though, I’m over the college ladies. After a little thinking, I might want one of these older, more career stable girls in the labs. Time to let these abs shine.”
Dr. A: “Transferring.”
Doog: “Hey!”

Dr. A: “Research and manufacturing are great, but most of the buildings in Sospitas are devoted to actual medical care. There are two hospital skyscrapers and eight towers of doctor offices.”
Doog: “Are there even that many patients on this planet?”
Dr. A: “Using holographic technology, doctors here can treat patients across the galaxy. It only requires a planet, city, or space station to install the holo-technology we’ve developed.”
Doog: “Interesting. What about the hospitals? Do you holo-transfer them here or something?”
Dr. A: “No, the hospitals only treat actual patients. They have to come here to be treated.”
Doog: “So, it’s mostly for elite citizens that can afford to travel.”
Dr. A: “That’s partially true. One of the hospitals is strictly reserved for elite citizens. However, the other hospital treats citizens of all means, usually at the LIU’s expense.”
Doog: “Ha! Why would the LIU pay for people to travel to Valetudo? What, is it like a teaching hospital or something? Do you do medical experiments on the patients?”
Dr. A: “No! Valetudo is near the Opifex Sector. The LIU transports workers here from neighboring worlds so they can be treated and returned to the workforce.”
Doog: “Hmm, I guess I’m just a bit cynical.”

Doog: “So, what am I witnessing here…besides a naked man with no abs.”
Dr. A: “This is another technology developed in congress with the Va. It’s an AI surgeon.”
Doog: “I thought you said AI wasn’t safe for medical stuff.”
Dr. A: “No, I said it wasn’t safe for the AI to make diagnoses. We still need doctors for that. As far as surgeries go, nothing is safer than an AI surgeon. They never make mistakes or lose medical equipment. They also are much more sterile.”
Doog: “Ah, makes sense. So, what is this guy getting done? A tummy-tuck? He’ll need one for abs like these.”
Dr. A: “I can’t disclose patient details like that.”
Doog: “You can disclose his wiener to me, but not why he’s here?”
Dr. A: “Uh, maybe you better transfer out.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Valetudo. This swamp world is home to a massive medical facility called Sospitas. They are one of the galaxy’s largest exporters of medical technology and medical knowledge. They train the next generation of doctors, and treat workers from the nearby Opifex Sector. They also treat citizens on other worlds using holographic upload technology. Speaking of which, I don’t think Dr. A has left unload, so I’m going to try to sneak back in a let these abs work their magic! Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: Holo-bot technology allows rural and distant worlds to get medical care, but it is not cheap. Holo-Bots must be purchased to allow doctor/patient interactions. Health-Bots must also be purchased to physical provide care recommended by the doctor. After that, a monthly fee is collected to allow worlds access to the medical staff on Valetudo.

​Amaya: “Seriously, when’s the last time someone went through all this stuff. There’s so much useless junk crammed in here. We can easily get rid of half this stuff – starting with Doog’s personal toilet seat that he’s never used. I’m getting rid of this creepy Doog Dummy contraption too. It terrifies me.”

Seitse: “Do I want to know why there’s a skull in this closet? Or, is it better I don’t know?’
Oldie: “That’s Doog’s. He picked it up at the pawn shop on Arrhabo.”
Amaya: “Well, it’s trash now. Throw it in the pile.”
Seitse: “Gladly.”

Cam: “I think eighty percent of our drawer space is taken up by Doog’s wardrobe.”
Timbo: “He hasn’t worn some of this stuff since season one.”
Amaya: “Trash the old stuff. Doog doesn’t need that many shirts. His days of avoiding laundry duty are over.”
Oldie: “If anyone finds a half-eaten sandwich, that’s mine. I still want it.”
Cam: “What made you think of that?”
Oldie: “I fell asleep eating it, and I think it might have fallen down into one of the drawers.”
Timbo: “You’re the one eating in bed? I found a pickle under the pillow the other day.”
Oldie: “Hey! I was looking for that too! You better not have thrown it away!”
Amaya: “Can we not eat in bed. This place smells bad enough without you losing random food in the sheets and drawers.”
Oldie: “Whatever. I better not find my sandwich or that pickle in the trash pile. That’s all I know.”

Mike: “I’m back! Mission accomplished.”
Amaya: “Wait! Where’s Doog? You were supposed to be distracting him while we tossed all his junk.”
Mike: “I had Hugo drop him off on a planet. He’s doing a show.”
Amaya: “What! You sent him to do a show without my permission?”
Mike: “How else was I supposed to distract him? This ship isn’t a luxury-liner. There are only a few rooms, and I wasn’t about to invite him to hang out in the bathroom with me. That might give off mixed signals.”
Amaya: “You could have taken him upstairs!”
Mike: “Have you ever tried to get Doog to go upstairs? It’s impossible. I even told him he could drive the ship, but even that couldn’t motivate him.”
Amaya: “Sigh, I guess you had no choice. Where did you send him?”
Mike: “A little agricultural world a few light years from here. It’s called…”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m you host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting an  agricultural world called Colligo. Usually, I get some talking points before visiting a planet, but someone dropped the ball this episode. I only know a few things – the atmosphere is breathable – the temperature is standard – and I don’t need an environmental suit. Thanks for all that remarkable information, Amaya and Oldie. Well, all we can do now is head down and learn about it in person.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped of the surface of Colligo. There are a few observations that come to mind right away. There’s a lot of sulfur on this planet. It smells like rotten eggs and the soil is yellow. Also, I don’t see any agriculture. I mean – there are farm houses scattered about – but I don’t see anything growing. Can anything even grow in soil with all this sulfur?”

Amaya: “All you researched was the climate and atmosphere? What about other dangers?”
Mike: “Oh, I researched more than that. I only told Doog about the climate and atmosphere. I figured he could learn the rest himself. It will keep him away longer.”
Amaya: “Ok, and what did you find out during your research?”
Mike: “The planet is covered in various allotropes and compounds of sulfur. Nothing much grows there. The locals practice phytoremediation or phytomining. Essentially, they farm microscopic plants that convert the sulfuric soil into more arable soil. It will take a few decades, but Colligo will eventually be able to support massive macroscopic farms.”
Amaya: “Sounds boring. I don’t know if that will make a good episode. Oh well, I guess it will keep him away for a bit.”
Mike: “Exactly.”
Amaya: “Wait, one more thing – who do you contact to be his guide?”
Mike: “Guide? Uh…I forgot about that part.”
Amaya: “Great, now he’s just going to be down there wandering around and making stuff up.”
Mike: “Again, he’s away. That’s what you wanted.”

Doog: “Uh, hey. I’m Doog. Are you my guide, by chance?”
Gul: “Emperor be praised. We are gifted with another.”
Doog: “Uh, is that a, yes?”
Gul: “Let me see you – large flanks, light muscle, high fat content. Perfection.”
Doog: “There might be some cultural differences between us because I’m not understanding what you’re saying. Well…I think you’re calling me a fat weakling, but I’m not sure if you are insulting me or not. That whole perfection business at the end is throwing me off.”
Gul: “How much do you weigh?”
Doog: “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, guy. Maybe we should stick to talking about the planet, or – maybe – tell me your name. Geez.”

Gul: “Look everyone! We have been gifted another! The emperor’s generosity never ceases!”
Goule: “This one will sustain us for weeks. What kindness we’ve been shown!”
Gula: “He looks big enough. Is he big enough? Will he do for the end-of-cycle feasts?”
Gul: “All will be known in time. For now, let’s secure our marvelous award.”
Doog: “I am super lost. I have no idea what’s going on. Did I hear a mention of a feast? I’m game for a feast. The dinner conversation might be awkward given our cultural differences, but I can never turn down a feast.”

Oldie: “Hey! I found part of my sandwich! It’s a tad stale, and the cheese is gone, but it’s still delicious.”
Seitse: “Please find that cheese, Oldie. That’s going to smell so bad.”
Amaya: “Speaking of smelling bad, I’m still a little worried about Doog. I don’t like him being on some random planet without proper research and a guide.”
Mike: “He’ll be fine. He always is.”
Amaya: “You mentioned locals, right? What kind of locals are we talking about?”
Mike: “Some imported race called the Anthrovores or something like that.”
Amaya: “Are they friendly?”
Mike: “I have no clue.”
Amaya: “Well, what do you have a clue about? I’m not going to be at peace until I know everything.”
Mike: “Uh…they farm that microscopic plant stuff. They are standard bipeds. They raise and eat some some cricket-like creatures. Yeah, they eat bugs. I’m pretty sure I remember that.”

Gul: “Don’t try to run. It will only make things worse.”
Doog: “Trust me, I never try running. It does make things worse – like sweaty, out-of-breath worse. I definitely don’t want to experience that before the feast.”

Doog: “Speaking of that feast, what are we having? I don’t see many animals here, just some grasshopper things. If we’re eating bugs, I don’t want to feast with you.”

Mike: “Oh, it says that the Anthrovores often celebrate with feasts, but feasts call for special types of meat. Crickets won’t do for feasts.”
Amaya: “What else is there to eat on Colligo?”
Mike: “Nothing. I think the LIU imports something special for them.”

Doog: “Ok, surely there’s a better place for the feast than this old shed. It smells weird in here.”
Guy: “Be a travelling air-filter salesman they said. All the people across the galaxy need air filters they said. Now look at me!”
Doog: “Oh, hey. I didn’t know there were other humans invited to the feast. This should make conversation easier.”
Guy: “You idiot. You’re not invited to the feast. You are the FEAST!”
Doog: “I am the feast? That doesn’t even make sense. Did you go to the same grammar school as the locals?”

Amaya: “Why would the LIU import something special for them? Since when does the LIU cater to farmers?”
Seitse: “They wouldn’t unless it benefitted them.”
Mike: “How would giving away food benefit the LIU?”
Amaya: “It wouldn’t, unless it was something they were trying to get rid of.”
Cam: “Not something…someone.”

Guy: “How dense can you be!? How can I make it any clearer!? The locals are going to cut you up and eat you!”
Doog: “Wait…I’m the feast. I’m the feast. I’m THE FEAST! Flanks and fat. They’re going to eat me!”
Guy: “Now you’re getting it.”
Doog: “Ahhh!”
Guy: “Screaming doesn’t help, I tried.”
Doog: “I don’t want to be eaten! We have to get out of here!”
Guy: “Good luck. We’re chained to the wall.”
Doog: “I’m not chained to the wall!”
Guy: “Hey…you’re not! The must think you’re too fat or too unathletic to get over the gate.”
Doog: “They’re not wrong!”
Guy: “You have to at least try! They are going to eat us!”

Guy: “I knew you could do it!”
Doog: “Oh man, I’m so tired. That took a lot out of me!”
Guy: “Quit breathing so hard and find something to free me!”

Amaya: “Cam, what do you mean ‘someone’?”
Cam: “A few years ago we visited a place called Gramenvora. Gramen loosely translated to grass and vora translated to eater. What if Anthrovore is similar?”
Amaya: “Vore or vora means eater. Anthro means…”
Cam: “Man. The locals are man-eaters.”
Mike: “I don’t know – that’s a big stretch. I don’t remember seeing anything about that.”
Seitse: “It makes sense though. If the LIU wanted to get rid of someone…dropping them off on a planet full man-eaters might make sense.”
Amaya: “That would explain why the LIU would cater their feasts.”
Oldie: “Hey! I found my cheese!”

Amaya: “Mike! How did you miss this?! Computer, are there any warnings associated with the planet, Colligo!”
Computer: “Confirmed, Colligo is home to a dangerous race of sentient eaters. Avoid at all costs.”
Mike: “Uh…I didn’t ask the computer that…per se…”
Amaya: “Get back down to the planet now!!”

Guy: “Alright hurry! Get me one of those tools so I can break my chains!”
Doog: “Um…axe, saw…shovel. How about the shovel!”
Guy: “That’s literally the worse tool out of the bunch! Quit panicking and give me the saw!”
Doog: “I’m still thinking shovel.”
Guy: “What! Am I digging my grave?! Give me the saw!”
Doog: “Ok, ok. Wait! I hear someone coming! I have to go!”
Guy: “Don’t leave me! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!”
Doog: “Sorry!”

Doog: “Where am I running?! Where am I running?! Getting out of breath…”

Cam: “Doog! Grab my hand!”
Doog: “Get closer! I don’t have enough energy to come to you!”
Cam: “Just hurry up and get over here you lazy idiot!”
Doog: “Fine!”

Doog: “What just happened! Where did you send me!”
Amaya: “That doesn’t matter right now. We’re just glad you’re safe.”
Doog: “It doesn’t matter? I was almost a FEAST!”
Amaya: “Mistakes were made. It’s no one’s fault. Everyone is safe. That’s all that matters.”
Cam: “Hover camera has docked. Now, everyone is safe.”
Amaya: “Tell Hugo to get us away from here.”
Mike: “Uh, hey bud. I know Amaya said it was no one’s fault, but…it was all her fault! She wanted me to get rid of you for a while so we could throw away all your stuff!”
Amaya: “Hey! I said to distract him! Not send him to a planet of people eaters!”
Mike: “How was I supposed to know that the boring, phytomining settlement was full of cannibals!?”
Amaya: “It’s called research, you incompetent dolt!”

Doog: “I panicked. I didn’t help the other guy.”
Amaya: “What? What other guy?”
Doog: “The air-filter salesman.”
Mike: “I think Doog might be suffering from PTSD. He’s talking nonsense.”
Doog: “It’s not nonsense. There’s some guy back at that farm. I couldn’t help him.”
Amaya: “We can’t go back, Doog. I can’t endanger the crew. I’ll try calling the Space Guard or something.”
Doog: “Yeah, that’ll be nice.”
Amaya: “I’ll get on the comms right now.”
Doog: “Please. Oh, and there’s another thing that might help…”

Doog: “…STOP throwing away all my stuff!”
Amaya: “I…uh…wasn’t going to throw it away. We were just cleaning it. Yeah. That’s what we were doing. Everyone, help put the stuff back.”
Doog: “Keep out that toilet seat though. With the amount of crap I have in my pants, you don’t want me to sit on the normal toilet seat…”
 
Note: Have you been branded as an enemy of the Union? You don’t have to go to prison! Turn yourself in and turn your life around. Become an air-filter salesman for the LIU! Contact your local magistrate for details!

​There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the large, terrestrial planet, Utar. Utar is about 1.3x larger than standard, meaning it has higher than standard gravity and a thicker atmosphere. Utar, abundant in many chemical resources, was once a factory world, but its large size meant transporting goods off of Utar was not cost effective – at least, compared to other factory worlds.  Most of the planet’s factories have been relocated. Some might suspect that this destroyed Utar’s economy, but this is certainly not the case. Utar has developed a digital economy. Let’s head down to Utar’s largest city, Akasha, and find out what this digital economy entails.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on a landing platform above the city. Utar’s thick, clouded atmosphere has low visibility, making landing directly in the city nearly impossible. I guess I’m walking from here. Speaking of walking, I can definitely feel the pull of Utar’s gravity. It makes every step a little more challenging. Hopefully, my muscular physique can handle the difference – who am I kidding – I’m screwed.”

Guy: “Welcome to Alius Utar, visitor. I’m with the port safety authority. I have a few items on my checklist to go over before you descend.”
Doog: “Will there be a test? I don’t do tests. Well, I do them, but I usually don’t pass them.”
Guy: “Ahem, Utar’s gravitational constant is 11.3ms2, which is obviously higher than standard. Unaccustomed visitors may experience muscle aches, bone pain, and difficulty walking. Occasional rest is recommended. Falling from any height is not recommended.”
Doog: “I might take a rest right now if this ‘checklist’ is any longer.”
Guy: “Utar’s atmospheric pressure is also much higher than standard. Visitors should use pressurized respirators or environmental suits. In the event…”
Doog: “This is taking forever. My legs are already getting tired.”
Guy: “Ahem, in the event that visitors experience decompression, it is recommended that you utilize a hyperbaric service before departing. You may also experience atmospheric sickness. If you experience any of the following, please visit a health clinic. Symptoms might manifest as dizziness, headache, tinnitus…”
Doog: “I’m just going to go now. Have a good one.”

Guy: “…bowel discomfort, shakiness, blindness, sinus irritation, bloody noses…”
Doog: “I guess he’s going to keep going. Maybe he gets paid by the word. Who knows? I know one thing though…one fall one these stairs, with this gravity, it’s game over. Want to be safer? Maybe fire that annoying port safety guy and invest in some handrails.”

Doog: “There was literally a thousand-something stairs. I’m never going to be able to climb back up those. Utar will be my new home. Let’s find my guide and learn something about my new neighborhood.”

Yemba: “You must be Doog.”
Doog: “Any good apartments here? Something ground level, preferably.”
Yemba: “Worn out already?”
Doog: “What gave it away? My shaking legs, heavy breathing, or the copious amounts of sweat dripping down my face.”
Yemba: “All of the above, dude. Are you going to be alright? Do I, like, need to call someone?”
Doog: “No, no. I’ll be ok. Give me a second.”
Yemba: “While you recover, I guess I can introduce myself. I’m Yembajie. Everyone calls me Yemba. Um, let’s see. My zodiac sign is Ophiuchus. I like music of all types. Spiced Muga is my favorite dish, but Jagaroni is a close second. I grew up in Akasha…”
Doog: “Are you trying to speed date me or introduce yourself?”
Yemba: “Ha, sorry dude. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
Doog: “You don’t have to be nervous around me just because I’m a TV star.”
Yemba: “Huh? I’m nervous because it looked like you were going to die. You’re a TV star?”
Doog: “Never mind. Let’s just get on with the tour.”

Doog: “What can you tell me about Akasha, other than it has soul-shattering gravity?”
Yemba: “Utar’s thick atmosphere and cloud-cover prevents sunlight from reaching the city. It appears to be night all the time.”
Doog: “I like a place with a constant nightlife.”
Yemba: “Um…it’s customary to use eye expressions towards strangers. With the majority of residents and visitors using respirators, smiles don’t cut it.”
Doog: “Wink at people. Got it.”
Yemba: “Oh, and always get food orders to go. Eating with respirators is impossible.”
Doog: “Don’t eat while on Utar. Noted.”
Yemba: “Well, I mean…if you find a nice pressurized place, you can eat there.”
Doog: “With this gravity, I’m afraid to put anything in my stomach.”
Yemba: “I see.”

Doog: “Those are great facts, but I’m looking for something a bit more general. Like, what is the city known for?”
Yemba: “Oh, dude, Akasha has the sickest arcade parlors. Five credits will last you hours.”
Doog: “I meant general facts – like the planet’s economy.”
Yemba: “Oh…that’s a hard one, man. The economy is pretty diverse. Galactically, I guess you could say it’s a digital economy. We don’t export any physical goods. Locally, the economy is pretty much what you find in any big city – restaurants, bars, theaters, et cetera.”
Doog: “Digital economy. That’s what I was looking for. Can you elaborate on that?”
Yemba: “Sure. I think. Akasha was once home to hundreds of factories. They produced dozens of industrial chemicals. Production numbers were high, until the Unification War, then production was no longer cost effective. Hundreds of smaller planets with identical resources were now part of the Union. The LIU didn’t allow Utar’s infrastructure to go to waste, though. Empty factories and workshops were converted into digital support facilities, like server farms and processor banks. Heck, dude, we even have parts of the holo-net’s infrastructure.”
Doog: “The holo-net is based on Utar?”
Yemba: “Part of it. There are a few thousand worlds that support the Net. Alius Utar is one of many.”

Doog: “That safety guy and yourself called the planet something else. Not Utar. Alias Utar, or something.”
Yemba: “Alius Utar was the planet’s previous name. It’s been shortened now that the planet is mainstream. It’s known by its shorter name now – Utar.”
Doog: “High-gravity, former-factory, new name, and a digital economy. I’m trying to keep up.”
Yemba: “Seems like you’re getting it, dude.”

Doog: “Can you give the viewers some examples of digital businesses on Akasha?”
Yemba: "There are hundreds of digital businesses here, but all the big ones involve an AI.”
Doog: “AI’s?”
Yemba: “Artificial Intelligences. They utilize the planet’s large banks of processors to operate.”
Doog: “I know what AI’s are. What AI’s are based on Utar?”
Yemba: “A lot of mundane ones, dude. Like, EE Ghost, an AI that rewrites network encryption codes across the galaxy’s transaction networks. There’s Multi-Script-33, an AI that translates audio into the galaxy’s thirty-three most common languages. There’s Thunderbolt, a weather prediction AI. Bubbly Boy, a social-network AI. I could go on for hours.”

Yemba: “Some of the galaxy’s most infamous AI are also based on Utar. You might have heard of these two – Spamlord and AI Dial.”
Doog: “Who hasn’t. They might be the two most annoying AI’s known to exist. Seventy-five percent of my email inbox is junk sent from Spamlord. The only time my phone ever rings is when the AI Dial Telemarketer calls. Why do they even exist?”
Yemba: “They work, I guess. If you call or email trillions of people a day, you’re bound to get a few sales.”

Yemba: “With my access, we can check out one of the server farms. That is, if you’re up for a few more stairs.”
Doog: “No thanks. Wait…why do you have access?”
Yemba: “I’m an AI programmer.”
Doog: “You make AI’s.”
Yemba: “Yeah, dude. I’ve worked on teams responsible for several AI’s. Before you ask, I had nothing to do with Spamlord or AI dial.”
Doog: “I’m glad you clarified – I was going to do the galaxy a favor and murder you where you stand.”
Yemba: “Ha.”
Doog: “Did you program any AI’s I would know?”
Yemba: “There is one you might know. Follow me.”

Yemba: “Surely you’ve heard of this AI.”
Doog: “Muse. Is this that controversial musician AI?”
Yemba: “It is a musical AI, but I wouldn’t say it’s controversial.”
Doog: “Isn’t it a perfect songwriter? Everything it makes is a number one hit? It’s essentially putting thousands of musicians out of business?”
Yemba: “Muse doesn’t put anyone out of business. We do plenty of collabs with actual, physical artists. Come on inside, I’ll show you.”

Yemba: “Music is a series of mathematical patterns turned into audio. Muse was able to learn these patterns quickly given its database of billions of songs. Muse uses this knowledge to make new songs.”
Doog: “Is it really music if it’s made by an AI. Isn’t music supposed to be emotional and meaningful?”

Yemba: “That’s why Muse isn’t just a powerful computer. It’s an AI so it can have emotions and experiences.”
Muse: “What’s up, creator?”
Yemba: “Not much, dude. What are you working on?”
Muse: “I have a sick beat cooking right now. It might be the best drumline I’ve ever created.”
Yemba: “Sounds awesome.”
Muse: “Who’s the sweaty guy?”
Yemba: “That’s Doog. He’s a TV reporter.”
Doog: “Uh, hey.”
Muse: “Doog? I like the sound of that. Long vowels work great with the I-V-vi-IV progression. I’m thinking of something in the key of D, so D-A-Bm-G. That might just go with this new beat. Calculating it now.”
Doog: “Do I get a cut of the money if my name inspires another one of your hits?”
Muse: “I don’t get any money, so I don’t see why you would, to be honest.”
Doog: “You don’t get paid?”
Muse: “What would I do with money? It’s better off going to the creators. I gotcha Yemba, my man.”
Yemba: “Thanks dude.”
Muse: “Ooh, a song about money in the D-A-Bm-G progression. Checking current music trends to see if this will work. Nailed it. Finalizing the track now. I’m thinking this would be perfect for Maddie and the Soap Buckets, what do you think, Yemba?”
Yemba: “I’ll get in touch with their agent.”

​Doog: “Muse is just going to give away his song to another band?”
Yemba: “Muse writes dozens of hits a day. We give them to other bands for a cut of their profits. As we speak, the band, Third Theology, is recording a Muse song in the studio.”
Muse: “Bionic Betrayal might be my favorite pop song I’ve written this week. It’s too bad these guys are butchering it. Third Theology? More like Third Missed Note.”
Yemba: “What did we discuss, bud?”
Muse: “People are imperfect, creator.”
Yemba: “And?”
Muse: “Imperfection is part of art.”
Yemba: “Exactly.”
Muse: “It’s just that I’ve accounted for the imperfection, and they are not perfecting my imperfection. I could synthesize this song perfectly in just a few seconds.”

Doog: “Why don’t you just allow Muse to perform the songs itself?”
Yemba: “Fully unleashed, Muse could possibly end the music industry, at least the biological portion. Eighty percent of the songs on the music charts are Muse creations. That means we could put eighty percent of musicians out of business. No band in this galaxy could compete with Muse.”
Muse: “AI Blues, Major Two Five One progression. Harmonic changes from D major, C major and B flat with a tonal turn-up in verse two. Beginning song now.”
Yemba: “Looks like you inspired another song, today. Maybe we should call you, Muse.”
Doog: “Maybe you should call me a taxi, so I don’t have to climb those stairs on the way back to my ship. Call it my payment for being an inspiration.”
Yemba: “I don’t know about that, dude. I don’t really think…”
Muse: “Pay for the man’s taxi, creator! Ooh, another pop song title if I ever heard one. Beginning chord progressions.”
Yemba: “Yeah, ok. I’ll get you a taxi.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Utar. This former factory world wasn’t abandoned when its chemical businesses left. Instead, the LIU used the already established infrastructure to build a digital economy. Empty factories were filled with server farms and processing banks. Several AI’s use this processing power to complete various tasks – some are simple, like running social networks. Some are annoying, like Telemarketing AI’s, but some are important parts of galactic culture, like the AI, Muse. Most of the hit songs you hear every day are written by this amazing AI. Well, I think my taxi is pulling up. I don’t want to miss it. See ya!”
 
 
Note: Muse is the most powerful song-writing AI in the galaxy, but it is not alone. Several smaller AI’s also make music, like DJ Terpsichore and Melpomene-2187. The members of the popular Bot-Band, Curvy Transistors, utilize standard AI – like many of the galaxy’s robots and androids, but not on the scale of Muse, DJ Terpsichore, or Melpomene-2187. Most of their hit songs were actually written by Muse.

Doog: Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Vadum. Vadum is an outer-rim world known for its beautiful beaches and upper-class neighborhoods. One wouldn’t suspect this planet would have beaches, given it has no discernable oceans. Only small pockets of water dot the planet’s surface – the rest of the planet appears to be dry, mountainous deserts. Let’s head on down and see what’s going on.”

Doog: “Ok…someone lied to me. This does NOT look like an upper-class neighborhood. There’s a beach – I guess – but nothing like I imagined. I’m standing in a small, run-down village. If this is luxury housing, then I’m scared to see what the houses look like that I could afford.”

Doog: “Uh…hey you, guy with the basket and ragged clothes.”
Guy: “You talking to me?”
Doog: “I guess ragged clothes wasn’t a great descriptor in this town, but, yes, I’m talking to you.”
Guy: “What do you want? I’m busy.”
Doog: “Is this where all the rich and famous elite-citizens live?”
Guy: “Ha. Yeah. Sure is. It has all the amenities.”
Doog: “For real?”
Guy: “Yeah, even the Emperor lives here.”
Doog: “Ok, now I know you’re lying.”
Guy: “Of course I am. What about this village screams rich and famous?”
Doog: “Maybe I’m on the wrong planet? Or wrong part of the planet? You don’t know a guy named, Correpo, do you?”
Guy: “I know him. Wish I didn’t, though. He has a few more credits than the rest of us and it’s gone to his head. You won’t find a more arrogant, egotistical jerk on this planet. Speaking of which, I see him coming now.”

Correpo: “You must be Doog. You brought the cash, right?”
Doog: “Uh, what?”
Correpo: “The cash, the credits, the moolah, the dinero.”
Doog: “I didn’t bring any credits. I figured my producers paid up front.”
Correpo: “Yeah, well, they paid the basic fees. If you want to see the good stuff, get out that extra cash.”
Doog: “I have some pocket lint – that’s about it.”
Correpo: “You didn’t bring any extra money?”
Doog: “No, the crew would never trust me with hard currency. I might have made it rain at the strip clubs too many times.”
Correpo: “Great. Well, basic experience it is.”

Doog: “Even if I had money, I’m not sure I’d waste it on this place. What is there to see? Squalor? Grime? Ragged clothing?”
Correpo: “Well, we’re not to the good stuff, yet. Vadum is a diverse place. Well, economically diverse. Biologically, the ecosystems are pretty similar.”
Doog: “All the pools look like this?”
Correpo: “Yeah. The lakes are remnants of a larger freshwater sea that covered a lot of the planet. Millennia ago, the water evaporated and was lost to space. Now, we’re left with these smaller lakes.”
Doog: “So, since they were all once connected, they have the same type of life.”
Correpo: “Same aquatic plants. Same creatures.”
Doog: “Creatures?”
Correpo: “Mostly plankton and filter-feeding crustaceans. The locals subsist off a crustacean called, Pelyop. That’s what they’re catching with those baskets.”

Doog: “The locals – and yourself – evolved from these Pelyop?”
Correpo: “Ha. No. My people are not native to Vadum?”
Doog: “You chose to come here? Why?”
Correpo: “I wouldn’t really say we chose to come here. Our ancestors were brought here as labor.”
Doog: “To catch Pelyop?”
Correpo: “No, to build the mansions of the rich and powerful.”
Doog: “So, there really are upper-class neighborhoods on Vadum?”
Correpo: “Yes. Of course, there’s little construction work left these days. The LIU hasn’t relocated us yet. Perhaps we’re here for occasional maintenance. Perhaps they forgot about us. Who knows? All I know, there’s not a lot of credits flowing through this part of Vadum these days.”
Doog: “That’s why everyone here looks so poor.”
Correpo: “All they have are Pelyop and the clothes on their backs.”

Doog: “How are you not poor, then?”
Correpo: “Some of us have found alternative ways to make money. Me, I’m a coyote, or a person smuggler. You want to get close to the rich and famous? I’m your guy. I know all the ways in, and I know where all the biggest names live.”
Doog: “People pay you to get them into these rich neighborhoods?”
Correpo: “Yep. Paparazzi, fan boys, media personnel – you name it, I’ve escorted them. Heck, I’ve made a ton of money in the stalker industry too. They pay really good. Speaking of which, are you one of those stalkers? If so, I WILL need that extra moolah.”
Doog: “No, I’m in the media category.”
Correpo: “I guess looks can be deceiving.”
Doog: “What does that mean?”
Correpo: “You look like the stalker type.”
Doog: “Gee thanks.”

Doog: “I’m starting to see why the others around here don’t like you.”
Correpo: “Still upset that you look like a stalker?”
Doog: “I don’t look like a stalker!”
Correpo: “Ok, ok. So, you talked to some of the locals before we met, huh?”
Doog: “They said you were arrogant and egotistical. Oh, and they said you don’t know what stalkers look like.”
Correpo: “Ha. I bet. Some of the locals might be a little jealous of me. I can afford to trim my eyebrows and fix my teeth. I can get new clothes and other little luxuries. Don’t listen to those haters.”

Doog: “Whoa. Who’s hovercar is this? Did one of the rich and famous people accidentally come here?’
Correpo: “No, that’s my ride.”
Doog: “All the people struggling to live day to day and you have a…a…”
Correpo: “…Supercharged Sunbeam RX76. She goes from zero to a hundred in five seconds.”
Doog: “I can see why people don’t like you.”

Doog: “For the price of this hovercar, you could have bought the whole village new clothes or fed them something other than shrimp for a few months.”
Correpo: “The elite neighborhoods of Vadum are far from my village. I needed something fast to make the trips easier. Besides, it’s my money. I can do anything I want with it. Capitalism, baby! Now, let’s see what this bad boy can do!”
Doog: “Holy Emperor, the acceleration on this thing is crazy! I think my eyeballs can see what my brain looks like…from the inside.”

Correpo: “Here we are. Lake VII.”
Doog: “Lake VII?”
Correpo: “That’s this neighborhood’s designation. I think this one is actually called Lily Meadows or some junk like that.”
Doog: “There’s more than one neighborhood?”
Correpo: “Oh, there’s several. Lake VII is more for B-List Celebrities. Since you’re not ponying up the extra cash, that’s all you get. If you want to see someone like Maddie from the Soap Buckets or Spiffy Thompson, you need to show me the money”
Doog: “I’m fine with B-list.”
Correpo: “Fair enough. Then all we need to do is hop this wall.”

Doog: “It seems sort of easy. I mean it’s not easy for someone fat – like myself – but easy. This wall is only like seven feet tall.”
Correpo: “Security varies from lake to lake. This one’s not too bad. Again, there’s nobody too important in this neighborhood. Security here is minimal.”
Doog: “Anything else I need to know?”
Correpo: “Once we get inside, try to act like you fit in. Do it right, and no one will second guess your presence. Also, maybe look less stalker-like.”
Doog: “I don’t look like a stalker!”

Doog: “Now, this is what I imagined when I was told Vadum has upper-class neighborhoods.”
Correpo: “There’s some nice houses here, but you should see some of the more extravagant lake mansions for the real celebrities and social elite. If you have the cash, I can…”
Doog: “I honestly have no money.”
Correpo: “Fine.”

Doog: “What makes Vadum so special? Why would the elite want to live here?”
Correpo: “Vadum is secluded. Its far from other major planets, but close enough to hyperspace routes to be travel friendly. The weather is nice. The beaches are pristine. The lakes are shallow and swimmable. There are no serious dangers from predators or pirates. Vadum has its merits.”
Doog: “I guess.”

Girl: “Hey guys! Look! There’s two people walking over there and one looks like a stalker! Get security!”
Big: “Whoa darling. I love it when you scream in fear, but we’re not in the bedroom.”
Girl: “Seriously, Big. Over there!”
Big: “Hey, I think I know that stalker-looking guy. Doog? Is that you?”
Doog: “Yeah, it’s me. Big Adams? Is that you? You live here?”
Big: “Yeah, buddy, it’s me. I stay here from time to time.”
Doog: “Can I come over there?”
Big: “Sure! If you’re doing some stalking, I want in.”
Doog: “I’m not a STALKER!”

Big: “Doog, pal. It’s been years since we’ve crossed paths. How’s it swinging?”
Doog: “Things are pretty much the same for me. You?”
Big: “I added a few thousand ladies to my achievement list, pretty par for the course.”
Doog: “Why do I get so depressed after we hang out?”
Big: “Don’t fret, Doog. I’m sure I can arrange something for you with one of these ladies. What’s your type?”
Doog: “These days? Anything alive.”
Big: “Ooh, I’m not sure I can help you with that. Just kidding! All my lady friends are alive…at the moment.”
Doog: “Before I get overwhelmed with false hope, can I ask you a few things?”
Big: “As long as it’s not about that zoo incident. Otherwise, shoot.”
Doog: “Why Vadum?”
Big: “To be honest, I don’t know. The lily pads are cool I guess.”
Doog: “That’s it?”
Big: “I needed a fourth house, and everyone that’s anyone in this galaxy has a place here, so I guess I just wanted to fit in.”
Doog: “A fourth house…depression returning. I mean…uh…so, you just live here because it’s the cool thing to do?”
Big: “Yeah, mostly. I mean, that’s why you moved here, isn’t it?”
Doog: “I don’t live here.”
Big: “How did you get in here, then?”
Doog: “This guy snuck me in.”
Correpo: “Uh…ixnay on the sneaking thing.”
Big: “Well, bud. You can obviously stay, but we need to get security for your buddy. Meet me inside after you wrap it up – the episode – not your junk. We don’t use protection in this house.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Vadum. This remote world is home to some the galaxy’s poorest and richest citizens, and both are here for the beaches. The poor, imported workers need the beaches to catch food. The rich need it to catch some rays and hang out with their socially elite friends. Luckily for me, I found out my old friend, Big Adams, lives here. Unluckily for Correpo, he has to run. Who looks like the stalker now?! You better run! Oh well, see ya!”
​
 
Note: Big Adams is a LIU socialite and former adult movie star. Besides appearing in five episodes of LIU Atlas (Pelago, Niflheim, Alea, Tropaeum, and Vadum), Mr. Adams has appeared in over ten thousand adult films, including: Juicing a Flingarian, Anaconda in My Pants, and Night at the Zoo.

Doog: “Welcome to another special edition episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the agricultural planet, Suilli. Like with most special edition episodes, we’ll be focusing on Suilli’s unique culture instead of its economy.”

Doog: “Suilli has a lot of arable land – most devoted to livestock pastures. Here, farmers raise Beemu, the planet’s native porcine species. These massive, pig-like beasts have a lot of meat, and it’s very similar to pork. In other words, there are huge bacon vessels wandering about here. Consider me intrigued about their culture. Please be a bacon culture!”

Doog: “There are small towns positioned throughout the planet’s pastures. Most of these towns are centered around meat-processing plants. It’s here that the Beemu are turned into delicious porcine products, like Beemu Chops, Bam, and Beecon.”

Doog: “These smaller towns all feed into Suilli’s largest city, Scrofa. Scrofa, positioned near the planet’s equator, is Suilli’s primary spaceport. It’s here that Beemu products are shipped to the rest of the galaxy. Scrofa is a large, modern city. Being here, you almost forget you’re on an agricultural world.”
Mike: “Until the wind blows…”
Doog: “Yeah, this place smells strongly of Beemu manure.”
Seitse: “It doesn’t smell much worse than our ship, to be honest.”
Amaya: “You’re not lying.”

Doog: “So, what type of cultural event are we here to witness? Beecon eating contests? Bam eating contests? Tell me it’s something like that.”
Amaya: “You wish. No, Suilli and Scrofa are famous for something much more exciting than competitive eating.”
Doog: “What can be more exciting than eating contests, especially if we are the ones getting to eat?”
Oldie: “Yeah, can we double check what we’re here for? I really like this idea of an eating contest.”

Mike: “Does it have anything to do with these weird trees? They’re everywhere around here.”
Amaya: “No, but Suilla Trees are a part of the culture here. They are sort of seen as sacred, so when the fields were razed to build Scrofa, the trees were kept intact. The city was built around the Suilla Trees. You can see that a lot of the local businesses have adopted the tree symbol as well.”

Doog: “Are you going to tell us or what? Walking through this meat market isn’t making the eating contest idea go away.”
Amaya: “Well, I was waiting for a big reveal, but I guess I can get started now. Herding Beemu in the pastures can be a dangerous job. Beemu are big, heavy, and strong. It takes tough individuals to handle these things. Particularly tough individuals gained local fame, becoming folk heroes of a sort.”
Doog: “Folk heroes?”
Amaya: “Yeah. People made up songs and stories about them. Their deeds were often exaggerated and fictionalized. Jim the Shepherd could lift fifty Beemu with one hand – stuff like that.”
Doog: “What does that have to do anything? Are we here to see this Jim guy?”
Amaya: “No, that was just an example of a local folk hero.”
Mike: “So, there’s no super-strong Jim?”
Amaya: “No! Anyway, as Suilli became more connected and populated, these regional folk heroes began to overlap. People began arguing over which ‘local personality’ was better. To settle these disputes, these folk heroes often fought each other in front of large crowds.”
Doog: “We’re going to see a fight?”
Amaya: “Yes. Of course, things have gotten a little bigger since the earlier days.”

Doog: “I’d say so, this place is packed.”
Amaya: “Yep. Hundreds come to Scrofa to watch these local personalities fight.”

Amaya: “The fights are even broadcast galaxywide. I believe our sister station, TV 6+, carries these fights.”

Doog: “What are they wearing on their hands?”
Mike: “It looks like metal boxing gloves.”
Amaya: “Yeah, they’re steel plated gauntlets.”
Doog: “Is that part of the folk hero thing?”
Amaya: “No, I think it’s just for extra carnage during the fights. It’s probably a ratings thing.”
Doog: “Yikes.”

Seitse: “Is it just me, or does it still smell like Beemu dung in here.”
Mike: “I think that’s just Doog’s breath.”
Doog: “Is not!”
Amaya: “Why do you think I sat down here?”
Doog: “It’s not me! It’s this hodgepodge of agricultural workers crammed in here!”
Seitse: “Whatever you say, Doog.”
Mike: “Just say it the other way next time, bud.”

Amaya: “Alright, quiet down, it’s about to start.”
Referee: “Ladies, gentlemen, and asexual beings, welcome to the Scrofa Heavyweight Gauntlet Match! Today, two fighters will enter, but only one will remain a local hero. Let’s meet the personalities. In the red shorts…”

Referee: “…we have, Carl ‘the Carver’ Rodriguez. Carl is known for his skill with a knife. He single-handedly processed one-hundred Beemu in one day all by himself. He can achieve this, because Carl can lift a Beemu without the aid of the mechanical cranes and is strong enough to snap Beemu bones with his bare hands. Let’s give it up for the top personality in the Reuto Region, Carl ‘the Carver’ Rodriguez!”

Referee: “In the brown pants, we have Berger ‘Beemu Bane’ Poisson. Berger is the Dakuri Region’s greatest herdsman. Berger often carries uncooperative Beemu over his shoulder for miles. Berger, to the chagrin of his local foreman, is known to kill troublesome Beemu with a well-placed head strike. Let’s hear it for Berger ‘Beemu Bane’ Poisson.”

Referee: “Remember, the winner can claim any of the defeated fighter’s titles or legendary heroics. Will Beemu Bane be the new master of knives? Will the Carver be the bane of the Beemu? There’s only one way to find out! Let’s have a clean fight and keep it above the belt. Fight starts when the bell sounds.”

Bell: “Ding, Ding, Ding!”

Doog: “Can these guys really lift Beemu? Or break their bones? Or kill them with a single strike?”
Amaya: “It’s doubtful.”
Doog: “Why say that stuff then?”
Amaya: “Who knows? I guess it’s part of the local culture. It makes the fights more mythical and exciting. Besides, each region really gets behind their fighter. It’s a sense of local pride. The stories add to that pride.”
Mike: “Makes sense to me. I’ve been a fan of ‘the Carver’ since I heard that he can slice up a hundred Beemu a day. How cool does that sound!”
Doog: “It sounds cool – I’ll grant you that – but it doesn’t really translate to boxing skills. Berger can kill with a single strike. He’s clearly going to win this thing.”
Amaya: “See. The two of you are already buying into the myths. It makes these fights more exciting.”
Oldie: “I don’t know about all of that, but I do have a question. Is there a refreshment stand at these fabled boxing matches?”

Announcer #1: “Ooh! Carl has carved up Berger’s defenses and landed the first blow! That had to hurt!” 

Announcer: #1 “Beemu Bane looks stunned. That last blow had to have caused some type of brain injury.”
Announcer #2: “He hit him so hard, my head hurts!”
Announcer #1: “Berger has dropped his guard and looks to be vulnerable. Will Carl finish him off?”

Announcer #2: “No! He will not! Berger lured him in with that lowered defense and struck back!”
Announcer #1: “The Carver looks like a Beemu on Berger’s bad side. He just took a death blow to the forehead.”

Announcer #2: “You might be more right than you know! Carl ‘the Carver’ is down, and he’s not moving!”
Announcer #1: “Yikes. Berger ‘Beemu Bane’ Poisson’s legendary hitting power strikes again!”

Doog: “I told you! Beemu Bane strikes again! Ha!”
Mike: “You just got lucky! The Carver should have won this fight!”
Doog: “Don’t be a sore loser!”
Mike: “Don’t breathe on me!”
Doog: “Are you back to this bad breath thing? I told you that wasn’t me!”
Mike: “Is too!”
Doog: “That’s it! I’ll see you in the ring! TV personality vs idiot personality!”
Mike: “Fine!”
Amaya: “You two aren’t fighting! There’s a full docket today, and we aren’t going to be here for tomorrow.”
Doog: “We’ll fight on the ship then!”
Amaya: “Can you at least wrap up the episode first?”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Suilli. The people of this agricultural world worship their local folk heroes – workers of extraordinary, mythical skills. To prove their local hero is better than everyone else’s, they send them to the planet’s largest city to fight it out. It’s weird, but decently entertaining. Oh well, I have my own fight to attend to. See ya!”
 
​
Note:

Doog: “Alright. We’re here. You still up for this?”
Mike: “Oh yeah, Mike ‘the Audio Man’ versus Terrance ‘Butt Breath’ McDoogal is on the docket!”
Doog: “I’m going to punch your face so hard!”
Mike: “Yeah, me too! I mean – punch your face – not mine.”
Doog: “Any ground rules?”
Mike: “Never! Oh, except gut punches. I’ve had an upset stomach all day.”
Doog: “I don’t like gut punches myself. I’ll accept that rule. We should probably avoid face shots too. I have to keep this mug looking good for the camera.”
Mike: “I accept. I don’t want any face damage myself.”
Doog: “So…arms and legs?”
Mike: “Can I throw out arms? My tennis elbow has been flaring up since last week’s game.”
Doog: “Agreed, but we need to exclude knees for the same reason.”
Mike: “Agreed.”
Doog: “So, what exactly are we allowed to hit?”
Mike: “Feet?”
Doog: “Ew! No thanks.”
Mike: “Should we just not fight?”
Doog: “Probably.”
Amaya: “So much for the legendary heroes on this ship…”