Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. In the last episode, we visited the moon, Acula, which orbits the gas giant, Acus. Acula had a support facility that provides communications and power to an unknown facility on Acus. Today, we’ll be visiting Acus and this mysterious facility. You can’t see much from orbit, so let’s head down below the clouds.”

Doog: “When you think about habitable gas planets, Acus doesn’t come to mind. It has very little oxygen, huge electromagnetic storms, and a ton of radiation. It’s not exactly friendly to life. I can only think of one reason a facility would be located here – it’s not meant to be found. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the support post on Acula, you would never know this place existed. What kind of secrets are hidden on this station? I guess we’ll find out. I’ve been given permission to board.”

Doog: “The station’s odd planetary location said a lot, but this says even more. There are bars blocking the hangar exits, and a large robotic sentry prowling about. Is it too late to leave?”

SR1: “Define your purpose, visitor.”
Doog: “Uh…uh…I have a purpose. I think.”
SR1: “Define your purpose, final warning.”
Doog: “I’m a TV reporter. I think. I mean…I am a reporter, but I’m not sure if that is my purpose. Don’t kill me!”
SR1: “Confirm your designation.”
Doog: “Confirm what? Designation? Do…do…you mean name? I’m Doog.”
SR1: “Standby for processing.”
Doog: “Can I go back to my ship while you process?”

Cerritus: “That won’t be necessary. Everything checks out, for now.”
Doog: “For now?”
Cerritus: “As long as you are Doog.”
Doog: “That I am. And you are?”
Cerritus: “Doctor Cerritus, Project Director at ARF.”
Doog: “ARF? Like a dog noise?”
Cerritus: “Like an acronym. Acus Research Facility.”
Doog: “Oh. That makes more sense. What are you researching on a planet like this?”
Cerritus: “Cerebral Reprogramming.”
Doog: “Cerebral reprogramming? Like brain manipulation stuff?”
Cerritus: “That’s one way to put it.” 

Doog: “Why do research on such a bleak planet?”
Cerritus: “Acus offers many advantages. It is remote and private, it’s hard for our test subjects to escape, and it’s close to the source of Blank serum.”
Doog: “There’s a lot to unravel in that last sentence. Tell me about the test subjects.”
Cerritus: “They’re prisoners. Mostly disobedient workers – enemies of the LIU’s production numbers.”
Doog: “It’s hard for lazy prisoners to escape. Got it. Ok, what about this serum? Did you call it Blank?”
Cerritus: “Blank Serum, or Nepenthazine, is a neurotoxin that causes retrograde amnesia. It literally blanks the subjects’ minds. They lose all pre-injection memories, but retain vital information, like social structures, linguistics, and even factual knowledge.”
Doog: “That’s terrifying. There’s a source of this chemical on Acus?”

Cerritus: “No, it comes from Acula.”
Doog: “Wait, is this the stuff that comes from those worms?”
Cerritus: “Yes. Nepenthazine is extracted from the spines of the Aculan Worm.”

Cerritus: “Scientists and medical bots can obtain a few gallons of Nepenthazine from every shipment of spines. It might not seem like a lot, but Blank Serum is usually effective in very low doses.”
Doog: “Of course it is.”
Cerritus: “Nepenthazine’s effectiveness varies between different individuals and species, so an exact dose has yet to be determined. That is part of our research here.”

Cerritus: “Nepenthazine research is very dangerous. Incorrect dosages can lead to death. For now, we’ve been limited to experimenting on prisoners.”
Doog: “Prisoners really get the short end of the stick in this galaxy.”

Doog: “You said the prisoners were disobedient workers, right? So, there’s no murderers or anything dangerous here?”
Cerritus: “No. This is a minimal security facility.”
Doog: “Why the tight security then?”
Cerritus: “Blanking the minds of sentients can be dangerous. Some don’t retain social skills or language. They become quite dangerous and unpredictable when reverted to this primal state.”
Doog: “What do you do with the primal ones?”
Cerritus: “The primal sentients can’t be reintegrated into the galactic civilization, so we euthanize them.”
Doog: “Wait, some of the experiments here lead to death? Is that legal?”
Cerritus: “All prisoners sign a waiver upon arrival making our actions perfectly legal.”
Doog: “They voluntarily agree to maybe die?”
Cerritus: “There might be some…persuasion.”

Prisoner #1: “So…we don’t HAVE to sign these, right?”
SR1: “Correct. Just like I don’t have to let you retain your eyes.”
SR2: “You don’t have to have legs anymore either.”
Prisoner #2: “I think I’ll sign. I rather take my chances with the experimental drugs, then these two.”
SR1: “Very wise. Initiate waiver signing.”

Cerritus: “On ARF, we have several test chambers, like this. Here, we test variations of the Blank serum. We alter the dosage, potency, and even injection sites.”
Doog: “That’s a big needle.”
Cerritus: “That’s because prisoner #ERO-6188745-00056 is getting a large dose. He probably won’t be with us for much longer, but you never know. That’s why we do the experiment.”
Doog: “That’s a little morose.”
Cerritus: “It’s just science.”

Cerritus: “I wonder where’s he’s getting this injection? With a needle of that gauge, I’m guessing directly in the brain.”
Doog: “I’m not sure I want to find out. Unlike the guy strapped to that table, I can still turn my head.”
Cerritus: “His death is meaningless without our observation. If we learn nothing from his death, then he will have died for nothing.”
Doog: “Yeah, sure. I’ll just be looking over here. You can be the observer.”

Cerritus: “Test subjects are brought to observation rooms, like this, after being injected with the Nepenthazine. They are monitored for any signs of distress.”
Doog: “Distress? Like that primal rage you were talking about?”
Cerritus: “Yes.”

Cerritus: “A half hour after injection, certain determinations can be made about the success of the Nepenthazine. The subjects are either catatonic or…”

Doog: “Oh gross! Did they rip their own legs off during this ‘primal rage’?”
Cerritus: “No. The Sentry Reapers are responsible for that.”
Doog: “Those robot guys?”
Cerritus: “Yes.”
Doog: “Holy Kaadu! Isn’t there a better way to euthanize these test subjects?”

Cerritus: “Dispatching the negative test subjects in this matter allows them to be studied much easier. The brain and spine stay intact. There’s no chemical euthanasia drugs present in the blood. We can get reliable data from the test subjects.”
Doog: “Gruesome. They still look half alive…no pun intended.”

Cerritus: “Most are half alive. Bisection is a slow death. It allows for active brain scans before the subjects are fully deceased.”
Doog: “I might need a barf bag. The gore is bad enough, but knowing that these people are slowly dying right in front of me is too much.”

Scientist: “You can’t make an omelet without cracking some eggs. Or – in this case – skulls. Speaking of which, I get a free breakfast if I make my brain extraction quota for today, so let me get back to work.”
Cerritus: “We’ll leave you to your work. I won’t be responsible for a failed brain quota, especially when its waffle week.”
Doog: “How can you guys be so numb? Who can think about breakfast with all this death and gore…wait, did you say waffles? Are they free?”

Cerritus: “When the Nepenthazine works as expected, the subjects are catatonic and open for reprogramming. The subjects are brought here to be re-educated.”
Doog: “Where do you start? Eating? Wiping your butt?”
Cerritus: “Personal habits, like other factual information, is retained. Only memories are lost.”
Doog: “How does that help anything?”
Cerritus: “Whatever event or events that lead to the subject’s inability to function in LIU society is no longer a factor. Were there parents killed by LIU forces? Did they miss out on a promotion? Do they have an abnormal hatred for people that park in two parking spaces? Those are the things we change.”

Cerritus: “Re-education consists of introducing false memories that make the subjects love their jobs and the LIU. If the process works as planned, the LIU has a loyal, productive worker in place of the lazy, unproductive misfit.”
Doog: “And, if it doesn’t go as planned?”
Cerritus: “There’s another torso in the autopsy room waiting for a brain extraction.”
Doog: “That’s what I figured.”
Cerritus: “You have to remember – this is experimental. While we have some successes, there’s still a lot of work to do. A few years down the road, we might be able to reprogram any sentient in this galaxy.”
Doog: “That’s terrifying.”
Cerritus: “No…it’s science.”

Cerritus: “Successfully reprogrammed workers are no longer required to stay in prison. We ship them to wherever their labor is needed.” 
Doog: “You send them out in shipping containers?”
Cerritus: “How else could we safely move our product in mass? Besides, successfully re-educated workers don’t complain about anything.”
Doog: “I need to leave this place before I end up a mindless zombie-worker like these guys. Is there anything else to see?”
Cerritus: “I think that’s it.”

Doog: “Well folks, this has been a terrifying experience. On the Acus Research Facility, scientists are experimenting with neurotoxins in order to repurpose unproductive workers. While there are some successes – if you want to call them that – a lot of these experiments end with dead, bisected prisoners. I think I’ll be leaving now. See ya!”
 
 
 
Note: Have an annoying coworker that’s not doing their part? Sick of carrying the load at your job? Nominate your fellow workers for the ARF project. Volunteers are needed.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the moon, Acula, which orbits the gas giant, Acus. Acula is an ocean moon, meaning that 99.99% of the moon’s surface is covered in water. A small volcanic column is the only dry landform on the entire body. That’s where we are headed.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on Acula’s sole landform, the Needle. This spire is the hardened core of an ancient volcano’s central vent. It’s the only terrain on Acula above sea-level. Nearly all the available real estate on this tall, natural tower is being used. There’s buildings, sensors, and communication gear jutting out from every part of the Needle. In case you haven’t spotted me, I’m on the summit of this multi-story, rocky pinnacle. I’m the unprepared guy being battered by the elements.”

Doog: “Like a lot of worlds with this much water, Acula experiences tons of precipitation. Downpours, like this, are the norm. You could be here a month and never see the sun. There are also some fierce waves down below. The waves are driven by the stormy weather and Acus’ gravitational pull. I’d get a closer look at these waves, but I don’t want to slip on this wet landing platform. I’ll just wait here, in the pouring rain, for my guide.”

Nadel: “Who are you?”
Doog: “I’m Doog.”
Nadel: “Oh.”
Doog: “Who are you?”
Nadel: “I’m Nadel.”
Doog: “So…are we going to go inside?”
Nadel: “You can. I have to wait outside here for a visitor.”
Doog: “Aren’t I the visitor?”
Nadel: “No. I’m looking for a Terrance McDoogal.”
Doog: “That’s me!”
Nadel: “You said your name was Doog.”
Doog: “Yeah, Doog is short for McDoogal!”
Nadel: “Are you sure?”
Doog: “Of course, I’m sure! Why else would I be standing out here in this monsoon!”
Nadel: “Good point.”
Doog: “Are we going to go inside now?”
Nadel: “Ah, yes. I guess we should.

Doog: “I think I’d only be half as wet if you realized that Doog and McDoogal are the same name. Your elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor – does it?”
Nadel: “The elevator works just fine. We’re on the top floor now.”
Doog: “I can’t tell if you’re arguing with me about your intelligence…or if we’re actually in an elevator.”
Nadel: “Huh?”
Doog: “I’m thinking we’re actually in an elevator.”
Nadel: “Yes. The elevator is working. It connects all the floors of the Needle. I’ll press the down button now.”

Doog: “What do we have here?”
Nadel: “This is the main control room.”
Doog: “What do they control?”
Nadel: “Lots of things. Mostly things on the Needle.”
Doog: “Obviously. You can’t tell me more than that?”
Nadel: “More than what?”
Doog: “You’re about as sharp as a bowling ball, aren’t you?”
Nadel: “What’s a bowling ball?”
Aguja: “Give Nadel a break. He hasn’t been the same since that lightning strike a few years back.”
Doog: “Why did you make him my guide then?”
Aguja: “There’s not much else he’s good for.”
Doog: “Want to trade him spots for an hour?”
Aguja: “Ha! You want me to leave the facility in Nadel’s hands? No thanks.”
Doog: “That wouldn’t be the best idea, would it? I guess this is one of those episodes where I fill in the blanks myself. Shall we continue, Nadel?”

Doog: “Either we’re descending really far – like to the center of the planet – or you forgot to press the down button.”
Nadel: “I’m pretty sure I pressed it.”
Doog: “I’m pretty sure you didn’t. We’ve been standing here staring at each other for like nine minutes.”
Nadel: “Hmm. It doesn’t usually take this long to go down a floor. I’ll press it again, I guess.”
Doog: “That would be great.”

Doog: “This is pretty self-explanatory. This is clearly a weather radar screen.”
Nadel: “No. This is the weather station. People here monitor storms, wind, and…and…and…lightning.”
Doog: “That’s kind of what I just said, but I don’t want to argue. What’s next?”
Nadel: “Go to the left.”

Doog: “Why are we out here on this narrow catwalk with wobbly handrails?! I was just getting dry!”
Nadel: “On my off-time, I’m an amateur meteorologist. I don’t need computers. Hmm, let me see. It appears to be raining.”
Doog: “Are you kidding me! You brought me out here for this!”

Doog: “I was watching this time. You didn’t press the button.”
Nadel: “I’m pretty sure I…”
Doog: “PUSH IT!”

Nadel: “The next several floors are devoted to various forms of communications. I think this is the subspace receiver.”
Doog: “I saw all the comm equipment outside. Is that the purpose of the Needle? Is that the economy? Communications?”
Nadel: “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
Doog: “Of course not. Wait…what is that noise over the comms? Is that snoring?”
Nadel: “That is not a communication. That is…”

Nadel: “…Aiguille’s sleep apnea.”
Doog: “Why is there a guy sleeping in the comms room?”
Nadel: “He is probably tired.”
Doog: “I don’t mean - why is he sleeping - I mean - why is he sleeping here?”
Nadel: “This is where his bed is, I guess.”
Doog: “I walked right into that one. Isn’t there a better place for his bed?”
Nadel: “The Needle is limited. Rooms often have two or three purposes. The next floor is radio telemetry. There are two more beds in there. There are also bathrooms in there.”
Doog: “The bathrooms are mixed into a communication room?!”
Nadel: “Yes.”
Doog: “Gross. Let’s skip that room.”

Doog: “I think we might have skipped more than that bathroom communications place.”
Nadel: “Sorry. I wanted to make sure to press the down button this time.”
Doog: “Yeah. I saw. You pressed it like four times.”
Nadel: “We can return and press the up.”
Doog: “No need. I’m not mad about it. If you’ve seen one communications room, you’ve seen them all.”
Nadel: “If you say so.”
Doog: “So…to recap – the Needle is a communication relay of some sort. Right?”
Nadel: “I guess you can say that. It is one purpose of the Needle.”
Doog: “So, there’s more?”
Nadel: “I think so.”

Doog: “And…we’re outside again. Tell me this isn’t another weather forecasting foray.”
Nadel: “Huh?”
Doog: “Why are we outside again!?”
Nadel: “This is where the containers come.”
Doog: “Ships drop off cargo here too?”
Nadel: “No. Containers come from below. They float to the surface. Magnetic cranes catch them.”
Doog: “There’s stuff below the surface?”
Nadel: “Yes. The Needle goes to the seafloor.”
Doog: “Back to the elevator again…I guess.”

Doog: “We’ve gone down again. Nadel wasn’t lying. The facility goes below the ocean’s surface. This looks like some type of moonpool.”
Nadel: “The surface waves are too violent. It is easier to access the ocean from below.”
Doog: “Why access the ocean at all? Is fishing part of the economy? What’s down there?”
Nadel: “No.”
Doog: “No? No, what? Which question?”
Nadel: “We use mini-subs to go below. Get inside.”
Doog: “We’re going below? Are you qualified?”
Nadel: “I’ve made several trips below.”

Nadel: “Everything looks good. I think you are ready to go below.”
Doog: “Can someone else check? The whole forgetting to press the elevator buttons makes me question your attention to detail.”
Nadel: “Everything looks fine.”
Doog: “Have someone else check! Not just you!”
Nadel: “You will be fine. Launching your mini-sub now.”
Doog: “Wait!!!”

Doog: “Being underwater always makes me claustrophobic, and these mini-subs aren’t helping. Could it get any tighter in here?”
Nadel: “Press the red button on the left to tighten your harness further.”
Doog: “I don’t want it tighter. I’m trying to say that this thing is cramped.”
Nadel: “Oh. You want the orange button then.”
Doog: “The orange button? That will make this thing expand?”
Nadel: “No. It will eject you from the mini-sub. You will not be cramped anymore.”
Doog: “I think I’m just going to avoid all the buttons. Forward, backward, and side-to-side is all I need.”

Nadel: “Acula has an abundance of energy. Tidal forces from Acus generate waves and currents. Tidal forces also cause volcanic activity. Both forms of power are collected with machines like this.”
Doog: “How does it work?”
Nadel: “I don’t know.”
Doog: “That’s par for the course.”

Doog: “So, Acula is a communication relay and a power provider. Got it.”
Nadel: “Acula is the support for Acus.”
Doog: “Support for Acus?”
Nadel: “The Acus Facility lacks many resources. The Needle provides them.”
Doog: “There’s a facility on the gas giant?”

Nadel: “Yes. The Needle sends them power.  The Needle handles their communications. The Needle even monitors weather conditions on Acus to keep the facility safe.”
Doog: “That weather room we saw wasn’t for Acula. That makes sense. Why monitor weather here? We know it rains and storms all the time.”
Nadel: “Yes. You see now.”
Doog: “I do. Acula supports another facility on the gas giant.”
Nadel: “Yes, but there is one more thing that makes Acula special.”
Doog: “What?”

Nadel: “Acula has native life. Most of it is simple, and it only exists around the Needle.”
Doog: “The only life on this whole moon is by the Needle?”
Nadel: “Yes. Life here is driven by the hydrothermal vents.”
Doog: “I’m guessing these vents were formed by the same volcanic activity that made the Needle.”
Nadel: “I think so.”
Doog: “So, you guys harvest these blue tube things?”
Nadel: “No. The tubes worms are not useful. They are filter feeders, eating bacteria around the vents. Most have high concentrations of bacterial toxins in their bodies, but not enough to be useful.”
Doog: “You can never go right with toxic tubes. Trust me. I’ve been to few brothels with that very problem.”
Nadel: “Huh?”
Doog: “Never mind. So, did you say they don’t have enough toxins?”
Nadel: “Yes. Harvesting the tube worms would not be efficient.”

Nadel: “Larger, more complex worms are more useful. They eat large quantities of the blue tube worms. The toxin is much more concentrated in their bodies.”
Doog: “Wow, look at that thing.”
Nadel: “I see it.”
Doog: “So, toxins are good?”
Nadel: “Yes. I think so.”
Doog: “Why?”

Nadel: “I’m not sure. They are collected and shipped to Acus. They put them to some use.”
Doog: “How are they collected?”

Nadel: “Most of the toxins are in the sea-worm’s spines. They are easy to pull out.”
Doog: “If pulling out was any easier, I wouldn’t be a dad…allegedly.”
Nadel: “I don’t understand.”
Doog: “Don’t worry – I’m not sure I get it either sometimes. Back to the spines though, do you milk the toxins out or what?”
Nadel: “Oh, no. We have no contact with the spines. They are placed into safety containers and floated to the surface.”
Doog: “Ah, I see. That’s what that magnetic crane thing was for.”
Nadel: “I think.”

Doog: “I’m interested in this Acus facility. Why do they need toxins? Why do they need a support facility like the Needle?”
Nadel: “I don’t know.”
Doog: “They were rhetorical questions. Obviously, you wouldn’t know.”
Nadel: “I might be a few stars short of a galaxy, but I don’t think this one is my fault. The Acus facility is very secretive.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Doog: “Well folks, Acula is an ocean world with a single landform called the Needle. The Needle is full of communication equipment, power generators, and support facilities. The Needle uses this equipment to assist another facility on the nearby gas giant, Acus. We really don’t know what goes on there, but it has something to do with the toxin cultivated on Acula. Don’t fret folks. We’re visiting Acus next to get the full story. Until then, see ya!
 
Note:

Worker: “Dude, you need more fiber in your diet. You’ve been here so long; you might as well take my spot in radio telemetry.”
Worker #2: “Quit talking to me! It’s weird!”
Worker: “Trust me – it’s worse for me. Somedays, I wish I would be struck by lightning.”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Anhelo. Anhelo is a warm, wet planet covered in rivers, wetlands, and dense vegetation. There are some mountainous desert areas, but we’re not concerned with those. We want to see the swamps. Wow, I’d bet good money that I’m the first person to mutter that sentence. Oh well, let’s head on down and see what we find.”

Doog: “Anhelo doesn’t have any modern cities, at least, it doesn’t have any modern cities built by the LIU. There are large pharmaceutical facilities spread across Anhelo, though. These medical factories harvest the local foliage and convert it into various medicines. I’m standing outside one such facility right now. Judging by the signage, this facility specializes in making Anhō. If I’m still up to date on all my drug knowledge, Anhō is an antidepressant.”

Doog: “It appears this facility is situated near a large lake. I can’t say for certain, but I think this was intentional. There looks to be large intake vents sucking in the lake water. Are these pills made from lake sludge? Or is the sludge the byproduct of making the pills? I guess I’ll have to wait for my guide to find out.”

Worker: “Hey, pal, could you talk to yourself somewhere else? We’re trying to move product out to the landing pad.”
Doog: “I’m not talking to myself. I’m doing a TV show.”
Worker: “Sure you are. Did you by chance escape the medical testing clinic? Do I need to get you some help?”
Doog: “I’m not crazy!”
Worker: “Of course, of course. Lots of people stand in random parts of the facility and talk to themselves…for a ‘TV show’. It’s totally normal.”
Doog: “I’m not talking to myself! This is really a show!”
Worker: “No need to shout. Just calm down. Let’s find out where you escaped from…”

Iris: “It’s ok. He’s with me.”
Doog: “Yeah! I’m with her! Wait…who are you?”
Iris: “I’m your guide. I’m Iris.”
Doog: “Yeah! I’m with Iris. I’m not talking to myself.”
Iris: “I’m not sure what I walked into, but maybe we should start over. I’m Iris. I’m a researcher with the Anhō Division. You must be Doog.”
Doog: “That’s me. I’m a totally sane TV personality that doesn’t talk to himself.”
Iris: “Nice to meet you.”
Doog: “Nice to meet you too.”
Iris: “Should we head inside?”

Iris: “The Anhō Division is a LIU pharmaceutical company. We specialize in the antidepressant medication, Anhō, which is derived from a local plant. Anhō is a popular prescription drug. It’s estimated that a tenth of the galaxy is taking some form of mood enhancement medications, and a percentage of those are taking Anhō.”
Doog: “Yeah, it’s popular enough. I’ve seen all the TV commercials. Green means go…blah…blah…blah.”
Iris: “Exactly. Given its popularity, there are hundreds of processing facilities on Anhelo making Anhō. This is one such facility.”

Doog: “What is Anhō?”
Iris: “Anhō is a piperidine benzodioxol derived from the diaspore of the lichen species, Green Wort.”
Doog: “Translate that to basic, please...”
Iris: “Oh, my apologies. Anhō is a chemical made from the seed spore of a local lichen. The chemical is a Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor…er…it regulates feel-good chemicals in the brain.”
Doog: “I could use some right now if you’re going to keep speaking all scientific.”
Iris: “Sorry, I’m used to speaking to other industry professionals.”

Doog: “So, how is it made?”
Iris: “Green Wort lichens launch reproductive spores into the atmosphere. Because Green Wort tends to grow near rivers, streams, and lakes, most of these spores end up in the water. We filter local water sources, isolate the diaspores, and collect them. After that, it’s simple chemistry. I won’t go too much into that given your lack of scientific understanding.”
Doog: “You’re a saint.”
Iris: “Our facility wrings enough SSRI chemicals from this local lake to make hundreds of thousands of pills a day. Combined with our hundreds of partner facilities, Anhelo produces several billion pills a day. It’s barely enough to meet demand.”
Doog: “There’s a lot of unhappy people in this galaxy? I’d never guess…”
Iris: “Increasing production means more facilities, but too many facilities impact the environment and endanger the Green Wort species. It’s a fine line between production and sustainability.”
Doog: “We don’t need a happy-pill shortage in the galaxy. It’s miserable enough most days.”
Iris: “Don’t worry, researchers like me are searching for solutions. Let’s head out of the facility, and I’ll show you some of my work.”
Doog: “Lead the way.”

Doog: “So, the waterways are all green because of the lichen spores?”
Iris: “Yes, mostly. Some of the color comes from other cyanobacteria species present in the water.”

Iris: “These are the Green Wort lichens I mentioned before.”
Doog: “These green mushroom-things? I didn’t know lichens were fungi.”
Iris: “Not to get too scientific, but lichen species are both cyanobacteria and fungi. It’s a composite organism where the two share a symbiotic relationship.”
Doog: “I’m not sure what you’re saying, but I’m not going to ask any further questions. The viewers can research lichens on their own time. I am interested in your research, though. Tell me about that.”
Iris: “I study other organisms on Anhelo, searching for both new medicines and alternative sources of Green Wort SSRI chemicals.”
Doog: “Found anything?”
Iris: “There’s a few things in the works.”

Iris: “The natives have been extremely helpful in locating useful organisms. They’ve been making various medicines from the wildlife for centuries.”
Doog: “Anhelo has a native race?”
Iris: “Yes, we call them the Anhelians. If you’re up for it, we can visit with them for a bit.”
Doog: “I think my job description forces me to be ‘up for it’. Let’s check them out.”
Iris: “Try to keep a few things in mind during our visit. The locals are on good terms with the LIU. We want to keep it that way.”
Doog: “Don’t start a rebellion. Got it.”
Iris: “The natives are pretty advanced, especially culturally, but they lack technology. Don’t give them any technology. Technology might lead the Anhelians into conflict with the LIU or it might cause environmental damage. The Anhō Division can afford neither.”
Doog: “I have nothing to give, and, even if I did, I’m not cheap.”
Iris: “Finally, don’t take drugs.”
Doog: “That might be a challenging one. No promises.”
Iris: “Seriously, though. The natives use a lot of native foliage to make various medicines. They are generous and will certainly offer you something. Most of these medicines have not been tested. It could be dangerous.”
Doog: “Well, I’ll follow the first two for sure. That third rule might be a bit more difficult.”
Iris: “Don’t be stupid, please.”

Native: “Welcome back to Itenard, Iris. I see you brought company.”
Iris: “Thank you. Yes, this is…”
Doog: “Give me all the drugs!”
Iris: “…Doog! Stop it!”
Native: “Give you all the what?”
Iris: “Ignore him! I’m so sorry.”
Doog: “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I lost control for a bit.”
Iris: “Anyway, if she’s available, we’d like to meet with the priestess.”
Native: “Of course. Follow me.”

Iris: “What was that back there! I said NOT to do any drugs! You certainly weren’t supposed to scream and beg for them!”
Doog: “I lack self-control. What can I say?”
Iris: “Just say ‘no’!”
Doog: “Alright. Alright. So, we’re here to visit a priestess?”
Iris: “Yes. In Anhelian culture, the priestess has many roles. Besides the primary role of religious leader, the priestess is the chief herbalist and healthcare specialist. She has knowledge of many local organisms and their medicinal uses. Researchers, like me, meet and discuss medicines with the local priestesses to find new products.”

Native: “Your friend seems tense, Iris. Perhaps he’d like a hit of Olsamide before meeting the priestess. It will ease his nerves.”
Doog: “That sounds amaz…”
Iris: “No! He’s fine! Thank you! We’ll head inside now!”
Doog: “You’re a real buzzkill.”

Hiereiai: “Iris, you’ve returned. I’m glad to see you. Shall we continue our lessons?”
Iris: “Another time, perhaps. I’m just showing this guy around the village. I brought him here to meet you. Hiereiai, this is Doog. Doog, Hiereiai.”
Hiereiai: “Pleasure to meet you, Doog.”
Doog: “Speaking of pleasure, do you want to offer me…”
Iris: “Doog!”
Doog: “Fine! Keep all the drugs for yourself!”

Hiereiai: “Is something wrong, Iris?”
Iris: “No, of course not. I was just telling Doog about our relationship. Priestesses share medicinal knowledge with LIU researchers. We use this knowledge to make new or better pharmaceuticals. Doog doesn’t seem to realize that there are several steps between our sharing of knowledge and actually ingesting the medicines. We need to check bio-compatibility, side-effects, dependence factors, and a myriad of other things before we take these new medicines.”
Doog: “I’ll be the guinea pig. Give me something.”
Iris: “That’s NOT how it works!”

Hiereiai: “You two must quit quarreling. My temple is a place of peace. Let’s us pass around the Olsamide. It will bring this nonsense to an end.”
Iris: “I must decline, Olsamide hasn’t been tested on my species.”
Doog: “What about humans?”
Iris: “It hasn’t been tested on humans either!”
Doog: “I feel like it’s my civic duty to try it out, then.”
Iris: “Doog!”

Iris: “You don’t know how many protocols you’re violating right now!”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. Just be sure to take notes for the medical journals.”
Iris: “I can’t use this as research. We don’t have any baseline information on you! This isn’t helping anybody!”
Doog: “It’s helping me. I feel better already.”
Hiereiai: “It’s helping me too. Helping me block out all this bickering.”
Doog: “I guess you better stop complaining, Iris. Remember rule number one. We don’t want to endanger the relationship between the locals and the LIU.”
Iris: “You’re so infuriating! Let’s get this tour over with!”

Iris: “Did you really have to bring that smoking apparatus with you?”
Doog: “It’s called a bong – and the priestess said I could borrow it. I wasn’t feeling anything yet, so we decided I might need a larger dose.”
Iris: “I hope that’s because it’s not compatible with humans, and you went through all this nonsense for nothing.”

Doog: “So, I see those Green Wort plants again. That’s cool.”
Iris: “They’re not plants, they’re lichens.”
Doog: “So, like, why are we looking at these Worts again?”
Iris: “We’re not looking at the Green Worts. We’re checking the Howa Mushrooms.”
Doog: “Are they super-small? I don’t see anything.”
Iris: “Did the Olsamide make you blind?! The mushrooms are huge. They are as tall as trees.”
Doog: “Oh, those things. Got it. Big mushrooms.”
Iris: “Howa mushrooms are closely related to Green Worts. They just lack the cyanobacteria. Because they are so closely related, we believe Howa mushrooms might be useful in collecting more SSRI’s. Essentially, they’d be an additional source.”

Doog: “Got it. Big shrooms make more happy-pills. Anything else to add?”
Iris: “You really have to quit smoking that stuff. You’re talking to a Howa Mushroom, not me.”
Doog: “Are you sure? I can see your pink hair.”
Iris: “That’s the cap of the mushroom.”
Doog: “Ha. I guess I am. Whoa, I feel really weird.”

Doog: “Maybe I should quit smoking this – I think I lost control of my bladder. My pants are all wet.”
Iris: “Sigh. You’re standing in a puddle.”
Doog: “Am I?”

Doog: “It’s pretty hard to tell what’s going on. Everything looks really weird right now.”

Iris: “I’ll take this.”
Doog: “Have it. I don’t want any more Olsamide.”
Iris: “That’s wise. Olsamide is one of the least tested chemical substances used by the Anhelians. Who knows what’s happening in your body right now.”
Doog: “It feels pretty similar to other shroom-like drugs I’ve taken. Any chance Olsamide comes from these giant mushrooms?”
Iris: “Oh, you’re way off. The reason Olsamide is untested is because it’s hard to collect. It doesn’t come from foliage, fungi, or lichens. It comes from a member of the local fauna.”
Doog: “I was smoking an animal?”
Iris: “Part of one. Olsamide is dried mucus from the creature, Ulae Muneopus.”
Doog: “Ula-what?”
Iris: “That’s the scientific name. We call them…”

Iris: “…Bog Boogers.”
Doog: “I was smoking mucus from a creature called a booger? Gross!”
Iris: “I warned you not to take things from the natives. Hey! Look! There’s one now.”
Doog: “Tell me the Olsamide is still coursing through my system, and I’m not really seeing a floating booger.”
Iris: “I have no idea what you’re actually seeing, but, yes, Ulae Muneopus look similar to boogers. That’s why we call them that.”
Doog: “Is it really floating or is that the drugs?”
Iris: “It’s really floating. Bog Boogers trap helium gases within their bodies, allowing them to float.”
Doog: “It’s getting sort of close. Am I in danger?”
Iris: “You’re not in immediate danger. Bog Boogers are herbivores. They float around and eat various vegetation. However, you could possibly be in some form of danger – you smoked dried mucus from this creature.”
Doog: “I should have listened…”

Iris: “There are numerous chemical compounds on Anhelo that are of interest to the LIU, but Olsamide is not one of them. Smokable psychedelic creature phlegm doesn’t seem to have a big market. And, we don’t even know if it’s safe. I guess we’ll see if you survive.”
Doog: “I should be freaking out, but I feel pretty calm. Maybe Olsamide has its uses. Like, anti-anxiety meds or something.”
Iris: “Time will tell. Good luck. Let me know if you survived.”
Doog: “I will. I have one favor to ask before you go.”
Iris: “What?”
Doog: “Can you point me towards the camera or somewhere in that general direction?”
Iris: “Sure.”

Doog: “Well folks, this has been an eye-opening experience. No, really, I can’t close my eyes. I think I forgot how to blink. Oh, wait. There we go. I can still blink. Where was I? Oh, Anhelo’s wildlife contains many useful chemicals that the LIU is converting into various medicines. The most widely produced medicine is Anhō, an antidepressant, but there’s plenty more to be discovered here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to stand here for a few hours until I can see properly again. Oh well, see ya!”

Note:
 
Dear Iris,
 
This is Doog. It’s been six days, and I’m still alive. I don’t believe I have any permanent brain damage from my experimental use of that Olsamide (sp?). I have been writing down various side-effects, so you can include the information in a medical journal. Please give me credit for any discoveries this unlocks. Also, if you feel inclined, you can send me a portion of any prize money. Here are the side-effects I experienced:
 

• Hotdog Fingers (my fingers stayed the same shape, but they smell like hotdogs)
• Hairy Elbows (my right elbow seems hairier)
• Oily Flatulence (in six days, I have a 50% incidence of skidmarks)
• Love Life Disruptions (I have not found a girlfriend or wife since taking the experimental drug – this might not be drug related)
• Blinking Difficulties (I seem to have problems remembering to blink – this might just be in my head though)

 
Best regards,
Terrance “Doog” McDoogal

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the mining planet, Niteo. Niteo is the closest planet to the variable star, Nitet. Nitet is a Cepheid Variable, meaning that its pulsating diameter alters both its temperature and brightness every two days. I’m not too sure how that affects Niteo and its mining operations, but it was on the cue card, so I guess it’s important. Enough speculation, let’s head down to a local mining settlement and find out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in Zuva’s Ravine, an equatorial mining settlement in the planet’s eastern hemisphere. Zuva’s Ravine looks like a frontier town. The buildings look primitive and hastily constructed. If there weren’t signs of technology, like the solar panels and communication arrays, I would have guessed I accidentally stepped into a time machine. The only other thing I noticed is that everyone appears to be dressed the same. Do we have some type of cult-situation going on? Add that to our list of mysteries.”

Saepire: “My intelligence report said you were dull-witted, but this is unbelievable.”
Doog: “What! Who are you?”
Saepire: “I am Deputy Saepire. I’m the law in these parts…and your guide for today’s show.”
Doog: “Well sir, at the risk of going to jail, screw you! I’m not dull-witted!”
Saepire: “The facts of the situation say otherwise. You came to Niteo dressed like…this.”
Doog: “What’s wrong with this? Do you guys not like red? Is it too bright? Should I dress all drab like the rest of the cult?”
Saepire: “Nitet is a powerful star even at its lowest diameter. Solar radiation, especially in the ultra-violet range, is brutally high on Niteo. Any exposed skin…will certainly feel some irritation.”
Doog: “A little sunburn won’t hurt. Heck, it might improve my tan.”
Saepire: “Perhaps I didn’t explain it correctly. You will not tan. Your skin will burn severely in a short period of time.”
Doog: “How short?”
Saepire: “We are at Nitet’s minimum diameter, so you might have two hours before the pain becomes noticeable.”
Doog: “That’s plenty of time to do my show, but to be safe, let’s make this quick.”

Doog: “So, we don’t have a cult-situation. Everyone is dressed like this to counter the UV radiation.”
Saepire: “Yes.”
Doog: “Look, we’re learning things already. Now, we might as well scratch Zuva’s Ravine off the list. What can you tell us about this place?”
Saepire: “Zuva’s Ravine is a mining settlement near two prominent veins of Ghyllium. The miners that harvest these veins live here. Of course, their presence attracted other settlers, like merchants, tradesmen, and such. About two thousand people live here now.”
Doog: “And none of these settlers tried to build better buildings? No offense, Sheriff, but this town looks a bit scruffy.”
Saepire: “Everything here must be imported: food, water, medicine, and even building materials. Obviously, importing goods is expensive. Why waste credits on trivial things, like modern homes?”
Doog: “Makes sense, I guess. So, that wraps up Zuva’s Ravine. I guess we move onto the mining now.”
Saepire: “You seem to be in quite the hurry.”
Doog: “I may or may not be experiencing shoulder discomfort.”
Saepire: “Already feeling Nitet’s Glory, huh?”
Doog: “No need to rub it in…unless we’re talking about sunblock. Have anything SPF500 or so?”

Saepire: “Unfortunately for you, the mines are a few miles outside of town. I’d planned on taking some mechanical steeds out there, but it looks like we’re going to have to find something more covered.”
Doog: “How is that unfortunate for me? Covered sounds great.”
Saepire: “It will cost more.”
Doog: “No worries, just bill it to the show. While you’re at it, upgrade us to something air-conditioned.”

Saepire: “A Hover-Coach it is. Fine choice.”
Doog: “This is what I’m talking about.”

Saepire: “I’ve never travelled in such accommodations. Perhaps you are not as dull-witted as they warned.”
Doog: “My producer might not see it that way when she gets this bill, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.”

Doog: “And…we’re back out in the UV hellhole. I thought the mines would be…underground. Wishful thinking, I guess.”
Saepire: “Indeed. Ghyllium is close to the surface. Surface mining is the most practical extraction method. Mining in the ravine makes it that more efficient. There’s less topsoil to remove.”
Doog: “I guess we have the how. People and mechs hammer green crystals out of the ravine walls. How about the what? What is Ghyllium?”

Saepire: “I’m a retired soldier turned lawman. I’m not a science expert or anything, so I’ll try my best.”
Doog: “That’s all me and my aching shoulders can ask for.”
Saepire: “Ghyllium is a product of high-energy radiation ionizing cerium-oxide and fusing it with ferrous materials in the crust. Its photocatalytic properties are unique, allowing visible light to pass through, but absorbing UV radiation. It also has high oxygen-ion conductivity.”
Doog: “If that is the laymen version, I don’t think I want to hear from an actual scientist.”
Saepire: “Yeah, I don’t know half the words I just said. I was just reading off some notes I wrote on my hand.”
Doog: “Did you have enough room on your hand to write about why? Why mine Ghyllium?”
Saepire: “Unfortunately, I sweat most of that part off. But I know it is used for the large neutrino collectors under the surface.”
Doog: “The large what? Wait, hold that thought. Let’s discuss it back in the coach.”

Doog: “Did you say neutrino collectors?”
Saepire: “Yeah, Nitet is a big source off neutrinos, especially when it swells to its maximum size.”
Doog: “So, there’s a reason there is a mining settlement on such a hostile place.”
Saepire: “Yeah, there’s abundant Ghyllium and neutrinos in one place.”

Saepire: “Miners transport Ghyllium to the Pauli shaft, where it is taken down to the neutrino collectors below.”

​Doog: “This is Pauli’s shaft, huh? Are we going down his shaft? That sounds weird to say out loud. Maybe edit that out.”
Saepire: “Yes, we must descend the shaft to reach the collectors.”

Doog: “These carts are the Ghyllium, right?”
Saepire: “No, these are the finished product, containment boxes full of neutrinos. The Pauli shaft is the transport hub for the operation. Ghyllium goes down, neutrinos come up. It’s essentially just an elevator.”
Doog: “At this point, I don’t care if it’s stairs. I just want to get inside.”
Saepire: “Follow me.”

Saepire: “The shaft is deep. The collectors are miles below the surface. If you need a bathroom break or something, you better do it now.”
Doog: “Unless there’s a shop selling aloe, I’d rather just continue.”
Saepire: “Fair enough. Let’s head down.”

Doog: “So…there’s no music or anything like that.”
Saepire: “No.”
Doog: “So…we just stand here and stare at each other for a while.”
Saepire: “I guess.”
Doog: “How long of a ride is it?”
Saepire: “Twenty minutes or so.”
Doog: “Oh, good. I was hoping it was awkwardly long.”
Saepire: “You’re out of the sun, aren’t you?”
Doog: “I guess there’s that.”

Doog: “So, why is this collector so deep underground?”’
Saepire: “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to look at my forearm. Ah yes – neutrinos have almost no mass and only interact with the weak force. That means they can pass through light years of matter without interactions. Having the collector this deep ensures that only neutrinos are captured. They’re the only sub-atomic particle that can make it down here. Other cosmic radiation and particles are filtered out.”
Doog: “I don’t even know what a neutrino is…so…sounds good to me.”
Saepire: “Neutrinos are simply fermions with a spin of ½, duh.”
Doog: “And they come in three flavors: electron, muon, and tau. I can read off your arm too. It doesn’t mean I know what I’m saying.”
Saepire: “Fair enough.”

Saepire: “This is it, one of the neutrino collectors.”
Doog: “How does it work?”
Saepire: “Beats me.”
Doog: “Don’t you have something written on your body about this?”
Saepire: “Nah, I ran out of space. I can’t write left-handed.”
Doog: “So, what do we do now?”
Saepire: “Ask one of these scientist guys, I imagine.”

Doog: “Hey, scientist guy, can you briefly, in laymen’s terms, explain how this collector works?”
Scientist: “That depends. What do you know about particle physics?”
Doog: “Uh, neutrinos are furbies that spin in three flavors…salty…sweet…and…let me see your arm again, Saepire – I forgot what they are.”
Scientist: “This ought to be fun. Neutrinos don’t interact with ordinary matter most of the time. They’re nearly massless. However, they are affected by the electroweak force. So, the biggest challenge in collection is manipulating that weak nuclear force. Challenging because the electroweak force declines exponentially with distance. We can’t just get something close to the neutrinos, we need particles to strike the neutrinos. These particles must be of equal momentum to stop them.”

Scientist: “That’s where the Ghyllium comes in handy. Alpha particles, released when the Ghyllium undergoes fusion, are perfect momentum equalizers. It’s simply a matter of firing the alpha particles at the correct relativistic velocity, spin, and vector.”

Scientist: “Chambers such as this, direct the alpha particle momentum equalizers in several directions to counter neutrinos passing through. Without velocity, the neutrinos are easy to collect in proton gates. They are then stored in electroweak cases built from the degraded Ghyllium.”
Doog: “Saepire, did you catch any of that?”
Saepire: “Uh, no. In regard to neutrinos, we are both dull-witted.”
Doog: “I take no offense that.”
Scientist: “Maybe I can try again? Perhaps some visuals will help.”
Doog: “No thanks. We wasted enough of your time already. We don’t want to interrupt your capture of those flavorful neutrino furbies.”
Saepire: “Yeah, alphabet particles have never been my thing.”
Doog: “Momentum vectors give me gas.”
Saepire: “I’m more of a strong-force guy.”
Scientist: “Ok, now you’re wasting my time. GET OUT!”

Doog: “Maybe we should have waited until the facility tour was over before we offended that science guy.”
Saepire: “Maybe, but this doesn’t look too hard to figure out. He said something about this.”
Doog: “That whole Ghyllium business?”
Saepire: “Yeah, electric-weak cases or something like that. They use the depleted Ghyllium to make cases to store neutrinos.”
Doog: “Yeah, I remember something about that.”

Doog: “Hey, these are those containment boxes we saw coming out of the shaft earlier, right?”
Saepire: “The unsealed version, I think.”
Doog: “We’ve come full circle. There’s just one question left, then.”
Saepire: “How long before we wrap up this episode?”
Doog: “No, what are neutrinos gathered for? What are they used for?”
Saepire: “Oh, I actually know this. The same properties that make neutrinos hard to collect make them useful. Like, their ability to pass through regular matter unimpeded. They’re used for imaging the inside of dense objects, like planets. They are also used for communication through dense regions, like nebulas and star clusters.”
Doog: “Awesome, that does it. Although, you could have saved that for the elevator ride back to the surface. Now we have another twenty minutes of awkward silence to deal with.”

Doog: “Any final thoughts, Saepire?”
Saepire: “Just one, and you’re not going to like it.”
Doog: “What?”
Saepire: “Zuva’s Ravine is a long way back, and I don’t think your going to get a Hover-Coach this time.”
Doog: “Why not? Charge it to the show.”
Saepire: “I don’t have a neutrino communicator, so I didn’t get this message until we got back to the surface. Long story short, your producer, Amaya, cancelled your line of credit. She didn’t seem happy.”
Doog: “Dang, I was hoping she wouldn’t find out until tomorrow!”

Doog: “Well folks, I guess I better wrap this episode up before I head outside – I have a long, hot, burning walk back to my ship. That’s because Niteo orbits the variable star, Nitet. As Nitet expands and contracts, its luminosity and temperature increases and decreases. Nitet’s output of valuable neutrinos also increases as it expands. There’s a facility here to collect these neutrinos, and a large mining industry to support it. Oh well, I better get to walking. Wish me luck. See ya!”
 
Note:

Mike: “What the heck happened to you! You’re redder than your shirt!”
Doog: “I don’t want to talk about it…mostly because my face hurts when I talk. I just need three things from you guys. One: Don’t touch me. Two: Bring me all the ointments and ointment-like materials on the ship. Three: Don’t tell Amaya…”

Amaya: “Doog! Is that you?! Did you really double this episode’s budget for an air-conditioned Hover-Coach?! Doog!”
Doog: “I’ll be hiding in the laundry room for the next few days. Remember, bring ALL the ointments!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the tropical planet, Edere Bis. As you can see, eighty-percent of Edere Bis is covered in large oceans. Its continental land masses are small, but there are thousands of smaller islands between these continents. The native Bis live among the coastal areas of these continents and islands, subsisting off the bountiful oceans. We’re heading down to a small settlement on the planet’s second biggest continent. Let’s go.”

​Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in the city of Chena. Chena sits on the western coast of Parera near the strait of Kutsanya. This shallow strait has some of the best fishing grounds on Edere Bis, so Chena’s economy is mostly driven by fishing.”

Doog: “I seem to be in some type of port. There are docks, cranes, and an extremely fishy smell. I can say, with a reasonable degree of certainty, that this smell is not coming from me. I haven’t been to the brothel for weeks. Chena, and the whole of Edere Bis, is mostly populated by the native, Bis, but there are a few off-worlders here. One of these off-worlders is my guide. Let’s try to find him.”

​Selby: “Ahoy-hoy, young man. You must be Doog. I’m Selby ‘Two-Fingers’ Wheatley, your chaperon for today’s show.”
Doog: “Hey, Selby. Thanks for having me. So, should I even ask? Is it TV appropriate?”
Selby: “Excuse me? I don’t follow.”
Doog: “Why is your nickname, ‘Two Fingers’?”
Selby: “Oh, that! I once nicked me a Tide Eel with just two fingers. Two! I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s completely true! You should have seen that thing! Boy, oh boy! She was bigger than the Emperor’s wallet!”
Doog: “Uh, yeah, sure. I bet. Let’s not get too off topic, ‘Two Fingers’. So, why are you here?”
Selby: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a fishing aficionado! I’ve fished all of the best places in the galaxy. Edere Bis is one of my favorites though. The Bis have a great fishing culture. Some of their methods…just blow my mind! I can’t wait to get out there and show you some of the planet’s sea life. Whoa boy! You’re going to love it!”
Doog: “Your enthusiasm is not contagious, just so you know. I’m immune.”

Selby: “Did I tell you about that one time when I snagged a Spineback with just a stick and a rope?”
Doog: “We’ve only been talking for two minutes, so probably not. Although, I’m already zoning-out awfully hard. My attention peaked at the, ‘Two Fingers’ thing. After that, I lost interest.”
Selby: “Well, then you’re going to love this. It was on the planet, Eremita. I’m all alone swimming in a school of Tursent…”
 
​
Forty Minutes Later…

Selby: “…nearly drowning in the depths of Caetarius while wrestling a Silurus. It was epic. Aha-ha-ha, best ten minutes of my life. Oh, that reminds me, I caught a Madhaka Whisper Fish with two cotton balls. You heard that right, cotton balls! Let me start from the beginning…”
Doog: “Wait! Stop! You’ve been talking about your fishing adventures for hours! When are we going to talk about this planet?!”
Selby: “I don’t think it’s been hours. It doesn’t take hours to row out to the Chitsuwa.”
Doog: “It sure seems like hours. Tell me something about this place. At the very least, tell me where we’re going.”
Selby: “We’re rowing out to the Chitsuwa, a main-boat stationed in the middle of the Kutsanya Strait.”
Doog: “Why the strait?”
Selby: “The currents here stir the sediments. The sediments spread nutrients. Nutrients spawn microbe and algae growth, and they attract larger fish and coral reefs. It sort of reminds me of the straits on the moon, Ty…”
Doog: “Stay on topic! What’s a ‘crap sewer’?”
Selby: “Excuse me? A what?”
Doog: “That main-boat thing you were talking about.”

Selby: “Oh, you mean the Chitsuwa.”
Doog: “Yeah, that.”
Selby: “The Bis mostly fish from large boats they call main-boats. These big ships almost never come to port. Smaller boats, like the one we came on, transport crew back and forth. They also transport the fishing haul.”

Selby: “I’ve fished on hundreds of worlds, experienced the fishing practices of dozens of cultures, and caught some of the galaxy’s greatest creatures, but Edere Bis has a special place in my heart.”
Doog: “What makes this place special?”
Selby: “I like the Bis’ hands-on approach. It’s some of the most thrilling fishing in this galaxy.”
Doog: “How so?”
Selby: “The Bis don’t use hooks or nets or long lines. They fish stealthily with spears. To top things off, they do most of this spear-fishing from underwater.”
Doog: “They swim underwater and spear fish?”
Selby: “Aye. And, we’re not talking shallow depths and short trips either. The Bis have biological adaptations that allow them to hold their breath for long periods. That’s why their heads are shaped like that. It has something to do with oxygen storage.”
Doog: “I thought it was for aerodynamics, but that makes more sense. I guess.”

Doog: “Wait. I thought you said the Bis don’t use nets. Isn’t that a net right there?”
Selby: “Oh, that net is not for catching. It’s for lifting the catch out of the sea.  Have you ever tried to lift a Huku out of the water while treading water?”
Doog: “No. I don’t generally lift anything out of the water, well, besides my fat self. So, these are Huku?”
Selby: “Yeah, they’re the Bis’ main target out here in the strait. Huku are lightning quick, so they can only be caught with stealth. Someone sat down there a good while to catch these guys.”
Doog: “Have you caught a Huku?”
Selby: “This old fisherman doesn’t have the lung capacity to get one, not yet anyway. I’ve been practicing, though.”

Selby: “Speaking of which, let’s get some practice in right now.”
Doog: “You want me to get in the water?”
Selby: “Well, yeah. Why else did you bring a wetsuit?”
Doog: “To stay dry during an intermittent splash, actually. No one told me about swimming.”
Selby: “Oh, come on. Don’t be scared. There’s a lot to see under here.”
Doog: “I’m not scared, but I do have a few questions. Do Huku eat people? Are there bigger fish down there? Should I be scared?”
Selby: “Huku eat small fish, not people. There’s nothing bigger than a Huku, not in the strait anyway. You shouldn’t be scared.”
Doog: “Sigh. I guess I have no choice.”

Selby: “I could easily grab a Huku with a pole, a hook, and some bait, but I prefer to fish like the local population. That means I need to build-up my lung capacity. I come out and practice every so often, but I still have a long way to go. I can only hold my breath for a few minutes. The natives can easily do twenty minutes.”
Doog: “I don’t think I have more than thirty seconds in me.”
Selby: “That won’t do for catching a Huku, but you’ll get a glimpse of the reefs. It will be something to show your viewers.”
Doog: “There’s reefs down there?”
Selby: “Aye. Are you ready?”
Doog: “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Doog: “…”
Selby: “…”

Selby: “That was only ten seconds.”
Doog: “Not all of us…get to spend our days…practicing…holding our…breath.”
Selby: “I don’t think most people need practice to hold their breath for thirty seconds.”
Doog: “What can…I say…I’m a little…out of shape…”
Selby: “Did you catch any of the sights down there? The coral? The wildlife?”
Doog: “Can we discuss this…back…on the boat? Treading…water…not helping…”
 
 
Ten Minutes Later...

Selby: “…and she says, ‘I can’t believe you dove in and swam with them!’, and I say, ‘Well, I sure couldn’t have walked!’. Get it? Because I was in the water!”
Doog: “Got it.”
Selby: “I wasn’t sure because you weren’t laughing. Are you still out of breath?”
Doog: “No, I think I’m ok now. I’m a little drained, so I’m just zoning out.”
Selby: “The swimming took it right out of ya, huh?”
Doog: “That and the endless fishing tales.”
Selby: “Oh.”
Doog: “Let me know when we get somewhere new, though. I’ll feign interest then.”
Selby: “Well, we are somewhere new.”
Doog: “Oh wow! How exhilarating! Amazing!”
Selby: “It isn’t that exciting.”
Doog: “Oh, well tell me what I’m looking at, so I know how enthused I should be.”

Selby: “Most of the fishing on Edere Bis supports the local population. Huku and crabs are part of the domestic economy. There is, however, a good on Edere Bis that is traded galactically. It’s called Kurutsa. It’s found on little outlying islands like this.”
Doog: “Does it have something to do with those giant creatures?”

Selby: “It does. They are the source of Kurutsa. These creatures are called Chyme Seals.”
Doog: “Chyme Seals? They don’t look, or smell, appetizing. I hope Kurutsa isn’t a food.”
Selby: “Actually, it is. It’s a major protein source.”
Doog: “Ew.”
Selby: “It’s more gross than you know.”
Doog: “How?”
Selby: “Well, let’s circle around this isle and find a candidate. Prepare to be disgusted.”

Doog: “A candidate for what?”
Selby: “Only female Chyme Seals produce Kurutsa, specifically mothers.”
Doog: “Mothers? Are we about to milk a seal?”
Selby: “Not milk. You’ll see.”

Doog: “Hey, there’s a baby seal.”
Selby: “Yep. That means we found our candidate.”
Doog: “And this isn’t a milking situation?”
Selby: “Nope, but it is a feeding situation. Mother Chyme Seals eat and digest a bunch of fish. They then return to the shallows to feed their young.”
Doog: “Don’t tell me we have a baby bird situation.”
Selby: “That’s exactly what’s happening. The mother seal will regurgitate the predigested fish into its baby’s mouth.”

Doog: “Oh boy, that’s gross.”
Selby: “It certainly churns the stomach. Aye, that smell is something else.”
Doog: “Why are the natives getting so close? What are they doing?! Watch out! There’s seal barf over there!”
Selby: ‘They have to go over there. They collect the seal regurgitation. That’s what Kurutsa is.”
Doog: “Sick! Who would want that?!”
Selby: “If you can get past the smell, that’s a big chunk of free protein right there.”
Doog: “It’s revolting, and they’re stealing food from a baby. How much worse can it get?!”

Selby: “Yeah, the mother seals tend to get a bit aggressive when you steal their baby’s food. So, we need to make a quick exit. Look! Here she comes!”
Doog: “A foul smelling, blubber-filled, snaggle-toothed monster is chasing us after vomiting. I’m having déjà vu about my ex-girlfriend.”
Selby: “Paddle quicker!”

Doog: “I should be wrapping up the show, but “Two-Fingers’ had to open his big trap again. He could have bored me with more fishing tales, but no…he had to do it. He had to offer me some Kurutsa to try. We all know I’m contractually obligated to try any local foods, so here we go. Wait up, Selby!”

Doog: “Edere Bis wouldn’t be so bad, they said. It’s a tropical planet with beautiful seas, they said. Everyone forgot to mention the swimming, the breath holding, the fishy smells, the giant ex-girlfriend doppelgangers, and the vomit eating. I need a new job…”
Selby: “Kurutsa isn’t that bad. Try not to think of where it came from though.”
Doog: “I hope it’s that easy. This stuff is popular across the galaxy?”
Selby: “I don’t know if its popular, but it’s definitely in use across the galaxy. Kurutsa is used as a protein additive in many prepared meals; especially those frozen seafood dinners from Foetida Foods.”

Selby: “Most Kurutsa is shipped off-world, but some is prepared by the locals as a special treat. It doesn’t get much fresher than this.”
Doog: “Fresh Barf-Kabob incoming. Sick on a stick. Regurgitate on the plate. Spew stew. Hurl on…”
Selby: “Stop talking about where it came from!”
Doog: “Hey, this isn’t that bad. I mean, I’m instantly nauseous, but it’s better than I thought.”
Selby: “It’s a bit gristly, but the flavors not too bad. It reminds me of the fish stew on the planet…”
Doog: “Let me stop you right there. No more fishing stories for you.”

Doog: “Well folks, Edere Bis is Edere Bis. What can I say? The native Bis are expert swimmers and fisherman. They have the biological adaptations to prove it. They catch all kinds of sea life, but it’s mostly used domestically. Their only galactic export is regurgitated protein from Chyme Seals. Seal puke. Your planet’s claim to fame is Seal puke. Wow. I can’t make this stuff up. Oh well, I need to get the rest of this kabob back to the ship so the crew can try it before they see the footage. They don’t need to know where it came from! See ya!”
 
Note:
 
Kurutsa Kabob Recipe
For maximum tenderness, allow Kurutsa to age for three to six days (the stomach acids within the regurgitated meat will continue to break down protein structures)

• Chop Kurutsa into one-inch cubes
• Remove any bones, rocks, or inedible materials (optional)
• Preheat grill to high-heat
• Thread chopped, vomited meat onto skewers
• Grill for ten minutes (grill times may vary by species – see information regarding parasites on your LIUpad)
• Enjoy!

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the volcanic wastelands of Favilla. Favilla – known in some languages as Blót – is a small moon in orbit around the gas giant, Cinefactus. Tidal forces from Cinefactus have created frictional heating in the crust of Favilla, making most of the moon geologically active. The surface is covered in volcanic features, including fumaroles, lava flows, igneous formations, and, of course, volcanos. It should be a pleasure to explore…if you’re into that type of thing. Personally, I’m not, but I need money.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on an island chain in Favilla’s southern hemisphere. I’m told these islands are extinct shield volcanos, but I don’t really know what that means. I do realize that’s there’s one major distinction between these ‘islands’ and other islands I’ve visited. These islands are not surrounded by water. They seem to be encircled by a slow-moving lava flow. The flow is barely moving on the surface, but I’m told that it moves quite quickly just below the surface where the magma is much hotter.”

Doog: “Speaking of hot, it’s pretty warm here despite the moon being a few AU’s from its star. I think it has something to do with the greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. There’s a lot of sulfur and smoke in the atmosphere too – you can smell it. The air on Favilla is breathable, but the volcanic gases, smoke, and ash make the air a bit rough on the respiratory system. I’ve only been here a few minutes, and it already feels like I’ve been ripping a bong for eight-straight hours. Don’t get me started on these glowing embers blowing everywhere, they’re super-annoying. I better not ruin my shirt or singe my mustache. Ok, enough complaining, I think I see my guide.”

Arbo: “I am Arbo’Ja, Overseer of the Obligated. You must be Doog.”
Doog: “I am.”
Arbo: “Welcome, Doog.”
Doog: “Thanks. So, your attire already brings a few questions to mind – why the long robes? Aren’t you hot? Isn’t that a fire hazard?”
Arbo: “My clothes are made from mineral wool, making them fire resistant. Burning cinders blow from the flows. The combustion risks are high for non-resistant garments. There is also the risk of acidic rains due to the sulfurous gases. Exposed skin is dangerous. Didn’t you get my email?”
Doog: “Uh…yeah, sure. I totally read that. Can I borrow an umbrella just in case? I might need you to look at the tag on my clothes too. Does it say fire resistant?”
Arbo: “I refuse to suffer the indignity of peeking inside your garments. You’ll be fine.”
Doog: “Is that a ‘no’ on the umbrella too?”
Arbo: “I do not know of what you speak.”
Doog: “Fair enough. I’m not too worried about it. These guys tending the fields don’t have fancy robes on, and they look alright.”

Arbo: “The Obligated are immune to such problems. They evolved here. Their skin is tough and thick.”
Doog: “Wait, the guys tending the fields are the natives?”
Arbo: “Correct.”
Doog: “So, you’re an off-worlder?”
Arbo: “My race, the Debere, cohabitate this world with the Obligated. While it is not our world of origin, we have been here centuries. I do not consider myself an off-worlder.”
Doog: “Why did your ancestors come to Favilla?”
Arbo: “During our exploration age, we discovered and colonized several worlds. Some of these worlds, like Favilla, were inhabited. Any race we encountered was incorporated into our dominion, the Order of Obligation.”
Doog: “What’s all this talk about ‘obligation’ and ‘obligated’?”
Arbo: “Every race we allowed into our dominion is indebted to us. They are obligated to serve us until their debt is repaid.”
Doog: “You enslaved them?”
Arbo: “Such language is blasphemous. Slavery is illegal. We did not enslave them. We rescued them from their unknowing. We ended their galactic naivety – and their technological innocence. In return, they repay their debt to us through their labors and their resources.”

Doog: “Sounds like they might have been better off before your arrival. Sometimes it’s better not to know.”
Arbo: “The sacrilegious idiocy spewing from your mouth indicates otherwise. Ignorance is the enemy of advancement. Their labor is a small price to pay for the knowledge we brought.”
Doog: “Do the natives feel the same way? I see they’re wearing some type of collars. Are those to keep them inline?”
Arbo: “Obliviousness strikes again. These collars are tracking wallets – they possess no suppression abilities.”
Doog: “Tracking wallets?”
Arbo: “The Obligated are indebted. The wallets track how much debt each individual owes.”
Doog: “Yikes, I’d hate to wear a collar that showed how much debt I was in. So, each individual has a portion of debt?”
Arbo: “Yes. Upon our arrival to Favilla, each of the Obligated was assigned an equal share of the debt. An individual’s labor lowers said debt. Labor is tracked and calculated by sensors, like this.”

Doog: “What do the ‘Obligated’ do to lower their debt?”
Arbo: “Favilla is rich in resources. The Obligated earn their solvency through a variety of labors. Tending the Kunwa Plantation is one such manner.”
Doog: “Kunwa, huh? Is that what these plants are called?”
Arbo: “Correct.”
Doog: “For someone who touts his knowledge, you’re not giving me much.”
Arbo: “What else would you like to know?”
Doog: “Is this a native plant?”
Arbo: “It is. Kunwa grows in the fertile volcanic soils near many of the moon’s lava flows. Like the Obligated, it is resistant to heat and fire. In fact, it only thrives in the warmth of the flows.”
Doog: “Is it grown for food? Or medicine? Or textiles?”
Arbo: “Kunwa is a beverage crop. They have fruit-pods containing a host of endosperm-rich seeds. These flavorful seeds are collected and dried. Once desiccated, the seeds can be ground and brewed into a drink.”
Doog: “Sort of like coffee or tea.”
Arbo: “They are prepared in a similar manner, but Kunwa is not like tea or coffee. It is naturally sweet, not bitter. Unlike coffee, Kunwa has no caffeine. Instead, Kunwa contains various natural sedative chemicals.”
Doog: “Sedative chemicals?”
Arbo: “Yes. Kunwa beverages are generally used as a sleep aid.”

Doog: “Some might classify your dull, monotonous voice as a sleep aid.”
Arbo: “What?”
Doog: “Nothing. So, these workers are paying off their debt?”
Arbo: “Correct.”
Doog: “Are any of them close to paying off their whole sum?”
Arbo: “Your naivety is amusing. Of course not.”
Doog: “What does that mean?”
Arbo: “The knowledge we brought is priceless, but, for quantitative purposes, we assigned each of the original inhabitants with five trillion credits of debt.”
Doog: “Five trillion! No one could pay that off in a single lifetime!”  
Arbo: “Precisely. The debt was not intended to be paid off by a single generation. The Obligated pass more than their genes to the next generation – they also pass their debts.”
Doog: “You can inherit debt? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Arbo: “Successive generations gain the same advantages from our knowledge as their predecessors. Why should they not share a burden of this debt?”
Doog: “Maybe, but they don’t really get a choice. Being born into debt is essentially a form of slavery.”
Arbo: “Your irreverent, nonsensical conclusions have been noted and ignored. Let’s continue.”

Doog: “I’m not a math expert, but five trillion is a lot. Even if someone worked off two million credits a lifetime, that’s like thousands of generations.”
Arbo: “Millions.”
Doog: “Millions!? You have to be kidding me. These guys will be laboring for you forever.”
Arbo: “Perhaps, but keep in mind, some labor is valued more than others. They might be able to repay their debt in a timelier manner.”
Doog: “Some make more than two million credits a lifetime?”
Arbo: “Certainly not, but some do earn more than others. For instance, the Obligated assigned to this processing center make more than the Obligated in the fields. Their distant predecessors will be solvent generations before the field laborers.”
Doog: “This is crazy.”

Arbo: “As I mentioned earlier, Kunwa is processed similarly to coffee. Seeds are dried, roasted, and then ground.”

Arbo: “Powdered Kunwa is then packaged so it can be sold to consumers.”
Doog: “It’s not brewed?”
Arbo: “Kunwa loses its sedative qualities if brewed too early. It is more effective if customers prepare the drink at home, immediately before it is consumed.”
Doog: “Is it? Or would you have to knock off more debt if your guys had to do it?”
Arbo: “That is your most ludicrous musing yet. Extra processing steps, like brewing, wouldn’t reduce anyone’s Obligation a noticeable amount – it would be like removing grains of sand from a beach.”

Arbo: “Your unfamiliarity with the ways of our order seem to be breeding contempt. The Obligated are not as oppressed as you imagine.”
Doog: “You say that as we walk into a jail!”
Arbo: “More misinformation. These are the worker dorms.”
Doog: “Worker dorms?! There’s bars on the doors!”
Arbo: “Simple protective measures are a small price to pay for free room and board. We could charge for these provisions, adding more to their debt.”
Doog: “Free room and board sounds great, but why the bars? Are the Obligated not free to move about however they please?”
Arbo: “Certain freedoms must be withheld from the Obligated for the sake of the system – like the freedom to mate.”
Doog: “Freedom to mate?”

Productivity Bot: “If you cross the yellow line and enter the female dorms, I will increase both your debt and pain levels.”
Obligated: “I won’t even look over there, just, please, don’t zap me.”

Doog: “Why do you keep them from mating? That’s one of the few pleasures left on this terrible Obligation world!”
Arbo: “As we discussed earlier, debts are generational. Each successive generation inherits the debts of their parents. This system will not function if the Obligated have more than two children.”
Doog: “How…Wait. If they had more and more children, theoretically, the debt could be diluted over time, but if each couple only has two children – the inherited debts stay nearly equal.”
Arbo: “Two parents – two children to assume their debt.”
Doog: “You’re prolonging their servitude!”
Arbo: “Correct. Controlled breeding insures the system’s stability.”
Doog: “This has to be illegal.”
Arbo: “It’s not. Not in the LIU, at least.”

Doog: “Whoa! Whoa! Ember by my mustache!”
Arbo: “Don’t panic. Just blow it away.”

Doog: “How many years of servitude will that advice cost me?”
Arbo: “Very amusing.”
Doog: “I thought so. Where are we going now?”
Arbo: “Plantation work and Kunwa processing are just a few of the Obligated’s labors. We must travel to see some of the others.”

Doog: “Is this thing safe? It’s a little bumpy.”
Arbo: “Our lava skippers are perfectly safe. The turbulence is caused by the repulsors travelling over different types of material. It’s typical when travelling over the lava flows. The ride should smooth out when we get over more stable areas.”
Doog: “I hope so, otherwise I’m going to need to chug a few Kunwas and take a nap.”

Doog: “What’s this?”
Arbo: “Favilla’s largest export is Kunwa, but gas is a close second.”
Doog: “Gas? Like fuel gas?”
Arbo: “No, not gasoline. Gas, like the free-flowing state of matter – specifically sulfur dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, and sulfur hexafluoride.”
Doog: “Oh, ok. Good thing you clarified because my second guess was organic gas...er....flatulence.”

Arbo: “The Obligated assigned here earn the most off their debts. The job can be dangerous, even for their well-adapted bodies.”
Doog: “How do they collect the gases?”

Arbo: “Active volcanic vents, like this one here, are capped. The resulting pressure build-up forces gases into collection devices.”
Doog: “And this is dangerous?”
Arbo: “Correct. Too much pressure may cause the cap to violently explode. It requires careful observation and a little bit of luck.”
Doog: “Luck?”
Arbo: “There’s no way to predict or stop a full-scale eruption. If…when this occurs, the collection infrastructure will be severely damaged or destroyed. Anyone close enough will more than likely be killed – either by the initial explosion, the displacement of oxygen, or the fiery lava raining down.”
Doog: “I have the worst luck, so I think I’m going to wrap things up here.”
Arbo: “Very well.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Favilla. I’m not sure what’s worse here – the air quality, the cinders, or the cruel economic system. Ok, the whole debt-slave thing is the worst. The Debere came to this moon a few centuries ago. Upon their arrival, they gifted the natives knowledge and technology. Actually, gifted isn’t the right word. The Debere sold the natives knowledge and technology. This sale placed the natives in the Debere’s debt. Now, generation after generation is forced to labor for the Debere to repay this debt. It doesn’t seem fair, does it? Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: Before being absorbed into the LIU, the Order of Obligation controlled sixteen worlds near their homeworld, Debeo. Most of these worlds are populated by various indebted races. All of which are referred to as the ‘Obligated’. The Debere retains some autonomy over their former dominion. 

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas.  I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re touring the Mid-Rim planet, Olentia. Olentia has a minimal axial tilt, so its climate is always temperate and mild. It’s never too hot, nor too cold. These stable temperatures have allowed large forests to cover most of the globe. These forests are home to the unique Olentin race and a handful of off-worlders. Olentia has no major exports, and its economy is practically non-existent. That doesn’t mean that Olentia and the Olenti have nothing to offer. Let’s head down and take a closer look.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off at a small maintenance depot in the planet’s southern tropics. Olentia sits at the start the Rachis Tradeway, a minor, Mid-Rim hyperspace route. Several travelers pass Olentia when approaching the route, so most of Olentia’s frail economy centers around transportation needs – like maintenance depots and fuel ports. Unfortunately, at least for Olentia, many forgo this planet’s services and stop at larger ports further down the route. Despite the small profit margins and unreliable business, a few holdouts keep active transportation services on Olentia.”

Doog: “Sir, if you have a minute, I’d like to interview you about your failing, unprofitable depot.”
Johnson: “Who said my business is failing?! Are you one of those credit collectors?!”
Doog: “No, no. I hate those guys. I’m a TV reporter. I’m just trying to show the viewers how miserable it is on Olentia, at least for off-world depot owners.”
Johnson: “Things aren’t that terrible! I take offense to that!”
Doog: “Oh, I guess I was misinformed.”
Johnson: “My wife and I won’t be retiring to Opulentus anytime soon, but we make do. It doesn’t help when washed-up TV reporters, like yourself, land on my platform without paying any fees. You guys could have, at least, got a window wash.”
Doog: “Uh…you’ll have to talk to my producers about that. I literally have zero credits. I’d argue the washed-up remark, but…zero credits. I have no argument.”
Johnson: “Excuses, excuses. Maybe I should charge you for standing here?”
Doog: “I’m supposed to meet my guide here!”
Johnson: “So! What’s this comfortable waiting place worth?”

Doog: “Um…hey, look! Someone else is landing. Maybe bother them for credits.”
Johnson: “Two freeloaders in one day? Does this look like a landing port for a charity?”

Johnson: “No more sponges! Pay or leave!”
Jaf: “Settle down, old man. Give me the works – fuel, engine de-ionization, and a hull inspection.”
Johnson: “Wait…Jaf, is that you?”
Jaf: “It’s been a few cycles, Johnson, but it’s me.”
Johnson: “Well, I’ll be damned. It is you. I guess I got so irritated by that TV guy that I lost my manners. Good to see you.”
Jaf: “Good to see you too. I hope you’ll forgive my guest. I thought I’d beat him here. If you need a landing fee for his ship, charge it to my account. The LIU’s paying this bill.”
Johnson: “You made it to the big time, huh?”
Jaf: “Nah, I just got contracted to show this TV guy around.”
Johnson: “Given his attitude, I’d say you hit the low-times.”
Jaf: “It’s not that bad. I was making my way to Olentia anyway. Letting this guy tag along won’t hurt too much.”

Johnson: “I guess you’re still in the business of high-end luxury trade.”
Jaf: “The preferred term is, ‘procurement specialist’.”
Johnson: “Yeah, ok. And, I’m not a mechanic – I’m an artisanal engineer.”
Doog: “And I’m not a TV reporter – I’m a travelling Videographer specializing in Cultural and Economic Studies.”
Jaf: “You guys are hilarious, but you shouldn’t quit your days jobs…whatever you prefer to call them.”
Johnson: “You’re right. Let me get to work on your ship.”

Jaf: “Doog, we meet again.”
Doog: “It’s been a few years since Arens Frux.”
Jaf: “It doesn’t seem that long, does it?”
Doog: “Maybe for you. I still have nightmares about that vegetarian cheese.”
Jaf: “You’re still freaking about that?”
Doog: “Of course. So, what have you come here to ruin for me today? Are you picking up some steaks made from asparagus or sugar-free sugar?”
Jaf: “Nothing like that. As you know, I come to undeveloped worlds, like Olentia and Arens Frux, to pick up luxury items to sell to the LIU’s elite. Worlds like this don’t have large-scale economies.”
Doog: “I remember. On Arens Frux, you grabbed that rare cheese.”
Jaf: “Exactly. I pick up more than food, though. I’ve come to Olentia to obtain their rare good.”
Doog: “Which is?”
Jaf: “Perfume.”
Doog: “Perfume?”

Jaf: “Yes. The locals are an interesting bunch. They possess spoken language, but they often communicate with chemical signals instead.”
Doog: “Chemical signals? Like smells?”
Jaf: “Yes. Some of the more elaborate chemical aromas they produce are in high-demand by the LIU’s elite. They’re turned into perfumes and colognes.”
Doog: “Tell me we’re not here to collect the locals’ sweat or something.”
Jaf: “While the locals, or Olenti, use some body odors to communicate, we’re more interested in the chemical aromas they manufacture.”
Doog: “Manufacture…like farts and burps?”
Jaf: “No! Manufacture outside of their bodies – from local materials and stuff.”
Doog: “Oh, ok. Phew. That sounds better. I didn’t want to watch you bottle up farts.”

Jaf: “Doog, this is Dr. Tapputi. She’s the LIU scientist assigned to Olentia. Doc, this is Doog, the TV reporter I mentioned in our last communiqué.”
Tapputi: “Welcome to Olentia, Doog.”
Doog: “Thanks. So, a scientist, huh? Why did the LIU assign you here?”
Tapputi: “Why does the LIU assign scientists anywhere? To find profitable exports.”
Doog: “I see.”
Tapputi: “I’ve been here more years than I care to mention. I’ve studied everything from the local timber to the mineral content of the crust. There’s nothing here worth exploiting at the galactic scale.”
Doog: “Why are you still here, then?”
Tapputi: “Honestly, I think the LIU forgot about me. If it wasn’t for Jaf’s little side business, I probably would have starved by now.”
Doog: “You’re in on Jaf’s perfume trade?”

Jaf: “Dr. Tapputi’s extensive knowledge of chemistry, the locals, and their language have proven invaluable to me. I couldn’t obtain the locals’ perfuming agents without her, and I certainly couldn’t convert them into useable scents. We have a partnership.”
Tapputi: “Speaking of partnerships. We might need to renegotiate some of our terms. Your visits are becoming more infrequent. I’m going to need a higher cut if I want to keep my lights on and my belly full.”
Jaf: “Uh…”

Jaf: “…I brought you a present. Did I mention that?”
Tapputi: “What is it?”
Jaf: “Gum resin from the moon, Commis. Give it a smell.”
Tapputi: “Wow, that smells pretty good. Can you eat it?”
Jaf: “No, I don’t think so.”
Tapputi: “Then we still need to discuss my raise.”
Jaf: “That’s the thing. I think the natives will go crazy for this stuff. It’s a new scent to add to their language. We might be able to buy double the amount of perfume we usually get.”
Tapputi: “And double our profits?”
Jaf: “Hopefully.”
Tapputi: “Fair enough. Let’s head out. I’ll keep the resin as collateral.”

Doog: “So, scientist, how does a smell language work?”
Tapputi: “Many creatures utilize odors in their communications via pheromones. They can quickly convey emotional states, like fear, anger, and readiness to mate. The Olenti are no different. They use pheromones to place emotional stresses on their spoken language.”
Doog: “Stresses?”
Tapputi: “In languages like Basic, we place various voice stresses on the words we say to give them different meanings – like intonation patterns to depict sarcasm. The Olenti do this with various naturally-produced pheromones. These aromatic chemical signals can differentiate playful banter from forceful commands.”
Doog: “It sounds complicated.”
Tapputi: “It is. It’s hard for non-Olenti speakers to accurately decipher their language. It gets even harder, though.”
Doog: “How?”
Tapputi: “As the Olenti progressed, they began incorporating additional, non-pheromonal odors into their language – like burnt leaves, spoiled fruits, and insect pheromones. They’ve acquired the ability to express complex ideas almost exclusively through odors.”

Doog: “What kind of ideas?”
Tapputi: “Numerous things. Village locations, clan size, trade requests – you name it. They can even communicate intricate historical information through various scents.”
Doog: “They can pass on history through scents?”
Tapputi: “Yes.”
Doog: “I guess that’s not hard. I can do that too – PFFRRT!”
Jaf: “Did you just fart?”
Doog: “Yeah, that’s the history of what I had for lunch. In case you don’t get a good whiff, it was breakfast burritos.”
Tapputi: “Disgusting.”

Tapputi: “Try to keep your smells to yourself. It’s hard enough to speak to the Olenti as it is. We don’t need to start a war with your flatulence.”
Jaf: “Maybe you should keep your arms down too, just to be safe.”
Doog: “Did I sweat through my deodorant already? Yep. I sure did. Got it. Arms down and no farts. Anyone have a mint?”

Tapputi: “Olenti clan groups vary in size, but this local group has about ten members. Clan groups are generally female family members – grandmothers, mothers, aunts, daughters, etc.”
Doog: “They’re all females?”
Tapputi: “Yes. Males are typically solitary wanderers. They only come around when they pick up mating pheromones from one of the group members. While they’re roving the forests, males tend to search for interesting scents to collect as mating gifts. This behavior has strengthened the Olenti’s scent language.”
Doog: “I hope no one tries to collect that burrito history I left back there. That won’t help with mating. Trust me.”
Jaf: “Doog!”
Tapputi: “Can we stop talking about that?”

Tapputi: “The Olenti collect local resources to extract different scents. The clans in this area gather Demurge, those red seed cones, Deloove, a local bug, and Desik, a local fungus. Every locality differs though. Some areas have resources that others do not. This drives a local, trade-based economy where wandering males collect scents from one clan and bring them to another.”
Doog: “This scent trade isn’t valuable to the LIU, though, right?”
Tapputi: “Correct. It’s only of use to the locals.”
Jaf: “This local clan does have some value. A carefully measured mix of Demurge and Deloove scents is the perfume we’re looking for.”
Doog: “What do you trade them to get the perfume? Do they use money or credits?”
Jaf: “No, that’s why I brought the resin. We can trade them a unique scent for the perfume ingredients.”

Doog: “I’m trying to keep my arms down, but I’m standing next to a pan of squirming beetles. If these things crawl by me, all bets are off. I’m going into swatting and flailing mode.”
Jaf: “Doog! Shh!”

Tapputi: “Hello, again. I hope you girls are well.”
Deligh: “We.”
Tapputi: “I can’t detect your scent language markers. Remember? I need you to use more words. I can hear, not smell.”
Deligh: “We are fine. We are healthy.”
Tapputi: “I am glad. Like usual, I come to you to trade.”
Deligh: “We are. You are.”
Tapputi: “Worlds not smells, please.”
Deligh: “Sigh. We are happy. Your arrival makes us happy. You are welcome. Trade welcome. We always trade with human, Tapputi.”
Tapputi: “I brought you a new scent. We call it gum resin.”
Deligh: “Gamm reason. Ooh. We like gamm reason.”
Tapputi: “We trade resin for perfume, yes?”

Deligh: “Yes. We. They. Under.”
Tapputi: “I know you’re excited, but I don’t understand.”
Deligh: “Raysune is good. We want raysun from Tapputi. They provide ‘perfoom’. Those under. There. Under.”
Tapputi: “Thank you.”
Doog: “What’s happening, Jaf?”
Jaf: “Tapputi was bargaining with the natives. I think they’ve accepted our trade.”

Doog: “It looks like a grocery store down here, but smells like a candle shop.”
Tapputi: “It’s actually more like a library or a printing press.”
Doog: “Huh?”
Tapputi: “These are the resources that the Olenti turn into scent signals. They’re the raw materials for future messages.”
Doog: “So, this is the stuff they use to make non-pheromonal smells.”
Jaf: “Yes, and it’s the stuff we need to make high-end perfume. The more we get, the more profit we can make.”

Tapputi: “Each material or resources – Desik, Demurge, or Deloove – can be prepared in several ways to extract several scents. Deloove beetles can be crushed, baked, or milked for their own pheromones.”

Tapputi: “Demurge Cones can be dried and crushed, burnt, or allowed to spoil. Each process creates a different scent, and, therefore, another piece of the Olenti’s language.”
Doog: “How does this perfume get made?”

Tapputi: “The perfume, called Olenti Musk, is made of mashed Deloove and dried Demurge. In the Olenti scent language, this musk-aroma signifies illness and death. It’s a sad, depressing odor.”
Jaf: “But, the people that wear it don’t need to know that, right Doc?”
Tapputi: “Uh…did I say illness and death? I mean love and happiness! Can you edit that?”
Doog: “Relax, no one watches this show, especially the folks in your elite-luxury-good-market.”
Tapputi: “Ok, good.”
Doog: “So, you sell it as is? It looks like paste at the moment.”

Tapputi: “The paste requires a bit of refinement. That’s where my chemistry knowledge comes in handy. It requires…”
Jaf: “Don’t give away all our secrets, Doc. Let’s just say that she can concentrate this stuff down to a more perfume-friendly liquid.”
Tapputi: “Oh, yes. Of course.”
Doog: “So that’s it?”
Jaf: “That’s all I know about Olentia.”
Tapputi: “I can tell you more, if you want to hear about the raw scent-materials in other regions of the planet. Or, maybe, more of the social structure of region and how the clans relate.”
Doog: “Nah, I think I’m good.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Olentia. This temperate forest-planet is home to a unique sentient race. The Olenti, as they’re called, communicate with a mix of spoken language and various odors. Some of these aromas are natural pheromones. Some of these aromas are artificially created. More importantly, some of these aromas can be turned into luxury perfumes. Olentia might not have a major economy, but a few people can persist here by selling these perfumes. Well, I have to go now. That breakfast burrito is moving right through me. See ya!”
 
 
Note: Olentin Musk is sold under the name, Eau de Elite Essences or E³.

​Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the mining world, Fere Mane. Fere Mane closely orbits the Class G star, Flammae, subjecting the surface to high-levels of heat and radiation. Typically, mining on a world this dangerous would be cost-prohibitive, but I’m told that Fere Mane is home to a rare type of ceramic that makes the risk worthwhile. We’re here to learn about this rare ceramic and the unorthodox means used to extract it. Let’s head down.”

​Doog: “Alright, folks. I’ve been dropped off at the Lambda Gulch Terminal, one of a handful of permanent structures on Fere Mane. Even though it is just before dawn, it’s still incredibly hot here. It’s probably over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit (37° C). I’ve been here two minutes, and my shirt is already soaked. It gets worse though. Daytime temperatures exceed four-hundred degrees (204° C). I don’t even want to contemplate how that feels. You’ll see a weird set of lights over my shoulder – the ones that resemble the starting lights at a drag race. These are warning lights. As you can see, it’s currently green, indicating that surface conditions are safe – AKA it’s not a burning oven yet. We need to head in, though. Dawn is coming.”

​Doog: “Lambda Gulch Terminal is underground, where it is safe from the relentless daytime sun. Hopefully, it has great AC too. I need my shirt to dry.”
CJ: “Hurry up! Quit lollygagging! The train’s close to departing!”
Doog: “Don’t rush a man that’s this sweaty. I don’t need to complicate this problem.”
CJ: “The train! We have to catch the train!”
Doog: “The train?”

​CJ: “The Morning’s Edge waits for no one. Put some pep in your step!”
Doog: “I have so many questions already. Train? Edge of morning?”
CJ: “Your questions will have to wait. We have about two minutes before the train departs. If we miss the train, I’ll lose my job, and you won’t be able to make a show.”
Doog: “The stakes seem much higher for you. It won’t hurt my feeling to miss a show.”
CJ: “Let’s go!”

​CJ: “The Morning’s Edge only stops at Lambda for seventeen minutes. Just enough time to refuel, resupply, and unload her wares. Once she leaves, she won’t be back for weeks. Missing this train is not an option.”
Doog: “Again, not an option for you. I’ll be fine missing the train. Wait! If I board the train…does that mean I’ll be stuck on the train for weeks?”
CJ: “I’m not sure. There’s no time to think about that for now.”

​Doog: “Going for a ride with unknown consequences due to peer pressure… sounds like that brothel on Camana V. I guess that worked out ok. Medication will help. Right?”
CJ: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Conductor: “ALL ABOARD!”
CJ: “Let’s go!”

​Doog: “We’re on the train. Happy?”
CJ: “Yeah. That was too close for comfort, but I’m good now.”
Doog: “Now that we’re not rushing, care to tell me what’s going on? Why are we on this train?”
CJ: “We just boarded the Morning’s Edge, a mining train.”
Doog: “You mine from this train?”
CJ: “Yes. It’s too dangerous to mine Fere Mane’s surface during the day. It’s too hot, and solar radiation is off the charts.”
Doog: “Why not mine at night? Why do you use a train?”
CJ: “We mine a ceramic called Aerococta. It’s practically indestructible when it’s hot. It’s impossible to mine during the daytime heat.”
Doog: “Again, why not mine at night?”
CJ: “Aerococta is a great thermal insulator, meaning that it holds on to a lot of the heat it absorbs during the day. It reaches its lowest temperature just before dawn. It’s much easier to mine then.”

​Doog: “So, this aero-business can only be mined at dawn.”
CJ: “It can only be mined in a cost-effective manner at dawn, yes.”
Doog: “But dawn is only a few minutes a day.”
CJ: “That’s where the train comes in. The Morning’s Edge travels at the same velocity that the planet spins, roughly 1,000 mph. This keeps the train in perpetual dawn. It literally travels at the morning’s edge.”
Doog: “It’s always dawn as long as you are onboard the train?”
CJ: “More or less. The train does speed up before it reaches a terminal, so it has enough time to unload and resupply. When it leaves the terminal, it returns to its position at morning’s edge.”

​Doog: “I guess that makes sense – at least, it satisfies the ‘why’ part of a train. What about the ‘how’? How do you mine from a train going a thousand miles per hour?”
CJ: “Good question. Let’s start at the engine.”

​CJ: “This is the train’s engine. This is where she’s piloted, and where train-wide operations are monitored. The guy in the blue is the conductor. The conductor is essentially the head of the operation. He oversees everything throughout the entire train. Although, you’ll usually find him in the engine.”
Doog: “I’d hope so. Doesn’t the conductor drive?”
CJ: “No, that’s the engineers job. That’s the guy dressed like me – up in the front.”
Doog: “So, you’re an engineer too?”
CJ: “Yes. In the rush, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Casey Jones. Call me CJ.”
Doog: “CJ, I’m Doog. I’m not usually this sweaty…just so you know.”
CJ: “Noted. So, like I was saying, I’m an engineer too. There’s several of us onboard the Morning’s Edge. We take turns driving, plotting, and monitoring the hovertrain’s systems.”

​CJ: “Morning’s Edge has a crew of twenty-five individuals. Besides the conductor and engineers, there are porters, maintenance workers, and miners. The train cars behind the engine are used to house the crew. There’s a galley car for making and eating food, a bathroom car for nature’s business, and sleeping cars like this.”
Doog: “You sleep in here?”

​CJ: “Yeah, it’s not so bad. These beds fold down. There’s a small place for storage and a small TV.”
Doog: “It’s alright, I guess. At least you get to watch awesome shows, like LIU Atlas.”
CJ: “Yeah, you’ll have to let me know when your show gets released. I’d love to watch it, well, this episode, at least.”
Doog: “What do you mean, ‘gets released’? LIU Atlas has been on TV for thirteen years.”
CJ: “Uh…h…h…has it? I thought this was a new thing.”
Doog: “Sigh. This is what I meant when I said the stakes were higher for you.”

​CJ: “The Mapping and Plotting Car sits behind the housing cars. It uses ground-penetrating radar to locate pockets of Aerococta. This information is not useful this pass, but it is used to determine future routes.”

​CJ: “When we’re not driving or sleeping, us engineers usually hang out here, in the Mapping Car.”
Doog: “Seems like a blast. How does any of this help mine things from a fast-moving train?”
CJ: “We’re getting there.”

​CJ: “The next six cars house the train’s fusion engines. These puppies power the whole train.”
Doog: “Wonderful. So, do you guys reach your hands out and pick up the ceramics or what? Doesn’t seem safe at these speeds.”
CJ: “We’re getting to that in a bit. The engines are an important part of that process. Not only do they provide the power, they provide the weight.”
Doog: “The weight?”

​CJ: “Yeah. The car immediately following the engines is the Raker. The weight of the engine cars makes the Raker more productive and helps keep the train stable when the rakers are deployed.”
Doog: “What’s a raker?”
CJ: “It’s a train car with large metal blades on its exterior. These blades drag across the soil, pulverizing the hardened surface. Essentially, they are like giant plows that churn the soil and free the Aerococta chunks from the planet’s surface.”

​CJ: “Aerococta is formed by the planet’s continuous heat cycle. Surface clays are heated to high temperatures by the sun, and then they slowly cool overnight. The process, called annealing, makes the clays tougher and removes internal stresses. This means that Aerococta is only found near the surface. The blades don’t have to penetrate deep to reach the ceramics.”
Doog: “There’s plenty of things you can get without penetrating too deep – trust me. Ever hear of Collum Gonorrhea?” 

​CJ: “A vacuum car follows the Raker. It sucks up all the loosened regolith.”
Doog: “Wait…you just vacuum the planet’s surface?”
CJ: “Yeah. It only works if the surface is plowed first, but that’s how me mine from a train, vacuums.”
Doog: “I wasn’t expecting that. I’m essentially riding on a high-speed Roomba.”

​CJ: “These vacuums are a little more advanced than a household appliance.”
Doog: “How so?”
CJ: “Aerococta is nonconductive and nonmagnetic. Electromagnetic filters utilize these characteristics to remove non-Aerococtic materials from the vacuums.”

​CJ: “Aerococta is also much heavier than standard regolith. Flushing tanks take advantage of this feature.”
Doog: “Flushing tanks? Do you mean toilets?”
CJ: “No. Flushing tanks, like these, are full of water. Vacuumed materials are deposited into these tanks and agitated. The heavy Aerococta sinks, while lighter things like dirt float to the top. The lighter material is then flushed away.”

​Doog: “Can I flush it?”
CJ: “Again, it’s not like a toilet. The flushing is computerized and automatic. There’s no handle to pull down.”
Doog: “I see plenty of buttons to push.”
CJ: “Seriously, it’s not a toilet.”

​CJ: “Electromagnetic filtering and water-flushing do the majority of the work, but nothing beats a good pair of eyes. Before it’s stored away, sorters personally inspect the Aerococta haul for impurities.”
Doog: “Dirt inspectors, huh?”
CJ: “Ceramic Sorters is the preferred term.”
Doog: “Right. And I’m a Galaxy-Class Investigative Reporter.”
CJ: “Okay, titles aside, they’re technically dirt inspectors. That doesn’t mean their job isn’t hard. They are our last line of defense. The more impurities that make it through, the faster the storage tanks fill up. The train only has so much storage, so wasting space with non-ceramic soils is a big waste. It will quickly cut into our profits.”

​CJ: “Aerococta is easily distinguished from other materials. It’s glassy, jet-black, and much heavier than other chunks of regolith. It’s easy to identify with just your bare eyes and a shovel. A spectral scanner makes it even easier.”
Doog: “What’s this blackened ceramic used for?”
CJ: “Some of the properties we’ve already discussed makes it extremely useful.”
Doog: “Remind me of those again. I was totally paying attention…for some parts of that. But, let’s be sure the audience knows.”
CJ: “Galaxy-class reporting, indeed. Anyway, Aerococta is nonconductive, nonmagnetic, and extremely durable when energized or heated. It’s great for plasma battery cases and fuel cell components. It’s one of the best insulators for Fusion Star Chambers. It’s often used in weapons containers too.”
Doog: “And it’s only found on Fere Mane?”
CJ: “Oh no, it’s found several other places – notably, the Inferno Mines of Kaustós and the ejecta rings of the brown dwarf, Spadix. Fere Mane probably has the safest and most cost-effective operation, though.”

​CJ: “Before being stored, the Aerococta undergoes another round of extreme heating. This builds up the materials’ strength, so it’s not too brittle when stored.”
Doog: “It’s hotter than a spice-pipe on Unification Day. Holy Emperor!”
CJ: “It’s hot, for sure. Given the extreme heat of this train car, the employment of heat-resistant beings was necessary.”
Doog: “That’s a Dokkal. I’ve met some of his race on Dokkalfar before.”
CJ: “Wow, that’s right. Maybe you are a galaxy-class reporter.”
Doog: “Nah, I just got lucky. I was there, last season.”

​CJ: “The last half of the train is mostly storage. Raw Aerococta is stored in detachable pods. The pods can be quickly removed and replaced when the train temporarily docks at a terminal. This helps the train maintain its position near dawn. Offloading can’t take too long.”
Doog: “Speaking of terminals, when will the Morning’s Edge re-arrive at one? I don’t want to hang out on this train for weeks.”
CJ: “The train orbits the entire planet once every two days, but the path obviously varies – the Morning’s Edge can’t follow the same path every time.  That would be inefficient.”
Doog: “Meaning?”
CJ: “We’re not due for another offload until Iota Basin – twelve days from now. It’s a dozen or so miles south of Lambda Gulch Terminal.”
Doog: “At these speeds, a dozen miles south is practically nothing.”
CJ: “We’re not moving directly south. We’re moving a mile south every rotation.”
Doog: “Math it for me…”
CJ: “Iota is a few weeks away.”
Doog: “And, that means what?”
CJ: “You’re riding with us for a while, unless you want to jump from the train to your ship.”
Doog: “I’ll try anything to get off this train. Don’t underestimate how much I don’t want to be here.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Fere Mane. The story here is less about the planet and more about this train. High-speed hover trains, like the Morning’s Edge, circumnavigate Fere Mane while mining the valuable ceramic, Aerococta. Aerococta is difficult to mine when it’s hot, but heat is needed to create it. It’s a bit of a conundrum. Trains solve this problem by mining Aerococta when it is at its most brittle state, dawn. In order to stay in dawn-time conditions, these trains travel at the same speed that the planet rotates. It’s perpetual dawn as long as you stay on the train. I, however, do not wish to remain on this train. So, I’ll need to plan how I’m jumping off this thing. Wish me luck. See ya!”
 
Note: There are six trains in constant motion around Fere Mane, stopping only to unload their hauls.
Trains: Morning’s Edge, Dawn Drifter, First Light, Antemeridian, Never Rising, and Fleeing Daybreak.
Terminals: Lambda Gulch Terminal, Iota Basin Terminal, and Upsilon North Terminal.

Doog: “Welcome to Season Thirteen of LIU Atlas. Today, we’re visiting Murex, a small planet in the Grex Cluster. Murex has some agriculture, but it’s more famous for its textile industry. This industry is based out of the planet’s largest city, Pannus. That’s where we’re headed.”

Doog: “Alright folks. When Season Twelve ended, the crew and I were given the option to stay anywhere within the Grex Cluster for two weeks. Most of the crew decided to stay with Amaya on Bulla Bulla, but Mike and I wanted to get a head start on the next season, so we decided to come here.”
Mike: “Was that a great decision? I guess we’ll find out.”
Doog: “What Mike’s trying to say is – we’re taking a bit of a risk. If we stayed with Amaya on Bulla Bulla, we could have stayed in one of her family’s condos for free, and we could have used our Season Twelve earnings however we saw fit.”
Mike: “But we didn’t want to stay on Bulla Bulla again. Been there done that.”
Doog: “It didn’t help that Bulla Bulla didn’t have any brothels.”
Mike: “That too. Mostly that.”
Doog: “So, we’ve come to this industrious little planet – with brothels – instead. That means we’ll need to find our own lodging and food. It can’t be that hard, can it?”

Mike: “Pannus seems like a decent place.”
Doog: “Yeah, it’s not too bad.”
Mike: “So, what’s first? Finding an apartment? Getting some food? Checking out the brothel scene?”
Doog: “If we want to be wise with our money, we should probably check out the brothel scene first. We don’t want to get an apartment that’s miles away from the brothel. Taxi fare would eat into our budget. Let’s find the bordello that we’ll be spending most of our time at and then get an apartment nearby.”
Mike: “I can’t argue with that logic.”
Doog: “We’ll need to venture out a bit from this landing dock though. Everything is more expensive around the spaceport.”

Mike: “The city has a lot of food vendors. That could be good for us.”
Doog: “It’s cheap and convenient – for sure – but I don’t think street-beef-stew is a good idea before the brothel.”
Mike: “What would I do without you? I never think of things like that.”
Doog: “Probably give the prostitutes nightmares.”
Mike: “Probably.”  

Doog: “Now this is what I’m talking about.”
Mike: “Brothels, bars, diners, and hotel rooms rentable by the hour.”
Doog: “This plaza might be all we need for the next few weeks.”
Mike: “The tattoo parlor scares me a bit, especially with the bars nearby. I don’t want to wake up with some random tattoo.”
Doog: “Let’s face it. We’re going to wake up with plenty of things we don’t want – tattoos, STD’s, hangovers…”
Mike: “Yeah, I guess. Well, what are we waiting for? Happy, Happy is calling our name.”
Doog: “That place looks too expensive. Clean? We’ll have pay extra for that. Let’s check out one of these smaller joints first.”

Doog: “Like this place.”
Mike: “How do you know it’s a brothel? There are no signs written in ‘basic’.”
Doog: “I’m pretty sure that one sign says it’s a brothel. I’ve learned to read ‘brothel’ in several languages.”
Mike: “Fair enough.”

Doog: “Oops. My bad. It said, ‘slots’. I was off by a letter.”
Mike: “Pannus has gambling?”
Doog: “I guess. It looks like a local variation of a slot machine.”
Mike: “This variation is really enticing. The lights and sounds are calling my name.”
Doog: “Me too. I can’t look away.”
Mike: “We could afford Happy, Happy if we win big.”
Doog: “We could.”

Doog: “I feel a big win coming soon. I just have to keep playing.”
Mike: “It better come real soon. We’ve blown through most of our money.”
Doog: “Wait! How much have you lost?”
Mike: “I’ve lost almost everything. I’m down to fifty credits.”
Doog: “Me too! We need to stop!”
Mike: “But how will we win our money back?”
Doog: “We’re going to be homeless for the next two weeks if we keep going.”
Mike: “Then why do you keep pressing the button?”
Doog: “I don’t know. The pretty lights tell me to do it.”
Mike: “Let’s get out of here!”

Mike: “There goes our plans for the next two weeks.”
Doog: “Don’t give up yet. We still have a handful of credits between us. We can make this work.”
Mike: “How?”

Doog: “There’s a pawn shop next to that tattoo shop.”
Mike: “We only have the clothes on our back. Unless you plan on selling that microphone?”
Doog: “Never!”
Mike: “Then the pawn shop won’t help us.”
Doog: “We can find a nice dumpster and live there. That way, we can save the remaining credits for brothels.”
Mike: “I’m not opposed to the dumpster plan, but I’m not sure we’ll get into places like, Happy, Happy, smelling like garbage.”

Doog: “There are several bars around here. Maybe we rely on our good looks and charm. We don’t pay for the ladies – we earn them.”
Mike: “That might work today, but once we start selling like dumpsters…I think we’re in trouble.”
Doog: “Well, let’s do it.”

Mike: “Comet Bar. Drinks look cheap. It’s not too crowded. Let’s try this place.”
Doog: “Turning my Doog Charm up to maximum.”

Doog: “And turning it off.”
Mike: “What? Why?”
Doog: “There’s only one human female here, and she already has a dozen guys around her. I don’t like those odds.”
Mike: “We could try another bar?”
Doog: “Or…”

Doog: “…we could invest our remaining credits into this beautiful, flashing machine.”
Mike: “The lights say we’ll win.”
Doog: “Indeed.”

Doog: “It’s official. We’re destitute vagrants for the next two weeks.”
Mike: “We don’t even have a cup to beg for change.”
Doog: “Time to sniff out a dumpster-home. If we’re lucky, it will be near a restaurant, and we can eat scraps.”
Mike: “Can we call Amaya for help?”
Doog: “We can’t let her know we messed up this quick. I don’t want to hear her say – you should have stayed on Bulla Bulla – in that scolding tone of hers.” 

Mike: “Do we really have to live in a dumpster?”
Doog: “Well, we could find a nice box. I’m not sure about the weather here.”
Mike: “It’s temperate with occasional rain.”
Doog: “See, a dumpster is just better. Once you get used to the smell, it’s almost like a home. Wait…how did you know about the weather?”
Mike: “I always look up the places we’re going to visit. Will I need a jacket? A respirator?”
Doog: “So, you know a little bit about Murex.”
Mike: “I know the basics.”
Doog: “I think I have an idea that might just save us.”

Mike: “If it means sleeping in a real bed, I’m all ears.”
Doog: “We came here under the premise that we’re getting a head start on the next season.”
Mike: “Yeah, but we just said that so we can splurge on hookers for two weeks.”
Doog: “But, what if we really shot an episode. With your pre-trip research, we can easily turn some of this footage into an episode.”
Mike: “I guess. How does that help us?”
Doog: “If we make an episode while we’re here, we can get paid. Amaya will transfer us some credits for the episode in advance.”
Mike: “That could work.”

Doog: “So, Mike. What can you tell us about Murex, specifically Pannus?”
Mike: “Um, it’s a multicultural factory town that specializes in textiles.”
Doog: “Yeah, that’s been well established. Can’t you add anything else?”
Mike: “There’s lots of food vendors everywhere.”
Doog: “We’ve already talked about that too. We need new material.”
Mike: “Sorry, my research wasn’t that extensive. Also, it smells good here, and I’m starving.”
Doog: “We’re really going to starve if we can’t make an episode.”

Mike: “We need to find a local or something. My research isn’t going to be enough to make an episode.”
Doog: “You’ve never been good at making things up. Here, watch me. It looks like we’re in an open-air-market that sells fabric and fruit?”
Mike: “Fruit?”
Doog: “I don’t know what those things are. Ok, so it’s not that easy.”

Doog: “Hey, what are you selling?”
Local: “Licium, 65 credits per kilo. I offer free shipping to any factory within Pannus.”
Doog: “Licium? What’s it used for?”
Local: “What do you mean? You can use it however you want. Use it to make purple dye. Extract the fibers to make purple fabric. Eat it if you’re into that kind of thing. Do you want it or not?”
Doog: “No thanks. We don’t have any money.”
Local: “Wow, thanks for wasting my time off-worlder.”

Doog: “Alright. We’re getting somewhere now. We’ll get some stock footage and do a voiceover. Murex is home to a plant called Licium. It’s grown in the countryside and shipped into big towns like Pannus. Here, it’s used to make cotton-like fabric and purple dye.”
Local: “Why are you still talking to me?”

Doog: “We’re making some progress. We need some factory shots and some looks at the final products, but I think we have enough for now.”
Mike: “So, we contact Amaya now?”
Doog: “Yeah, I think we have enough footage to get an advance on this episode’s salary.”

Doog: “There’s an E-Café up ahead with Wi-Fi. We can contact her from there.”

Mike: “Don’t you have to buy things to use the Wi-Fi?”
Doog: “Maybe. I’ll stay in line and pretend to order while you make contact.”

Doog: “Remember. Don’t tell her about the brothels or the gambling. Our plan was to make an episode this whole time.”
Mike: “Got it.”

Doog: “What did she say?”
Mike: “I’m pretty sure the Hover Cam sold us out. She knew everything that’s happened.”
Doog: “We have to stop bringing this thing everywhere.”
Mike: “Yeah, so she’s not giving us any advance. She’s afraid we’ll gamble it away. She’s gathering up the crew. They’ll be here in a week. We’re on our own until then.”
Doog: “Can you use the Wi-Fi to search for nearby dumpsters?”
Mike: “I already tried. You can’t.”

Doog: “We can’t let her win. Even though we’re homeless and penniless, we’re finishing this episode.”
Mike: “I’m game. We don’t have anything else to do. Well, look for dumpsters and beg for food, but we can do that later.”
Doog: “Exactly. Let’s check out these factories and finish this episode.”
Mike: “Maybe one of these factories have a nice industrial-size dumpster.”
Doog: “Ooh, luxury accommodations. I like it.”

Mike: “Ok. We’re in. Is this the part where we make stuff up again?”
Doog: “It sure is. It looks like the fruits…what are they again?”
Mike: “Licium.”
Doog: “It looks like the Licium gets broken down into its fibers in those tanks. The fibrous purple goo gets sent to some type of weaving machine. The machine turns it into sheets of fabric.”
Mike: “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Doog: “I’m not sure what these things are in front of us.”
Mike: “They look like ironing stations. The fabric gets neatly pressed before being boxed.”

Foreman: “Are you two here for the steam ironing job?”
Mike: “No, we’re actually…”
Doog: “Wait! What does it pay?”
Foreman: “Five credits daily plus you get to stay in one of our worker dorms.”
Doog: “We’re the guys. When do we start?”

Mike: “Are we really going to iron fabric for the next week?”
Doog: “It’s better than living in a dumpster.”
Mike: “Is it? This job sucks.”
Doog: “Maybe, but five credits a day plus free housing. We might just salvage a brothel visit.”
Mike: “Let the ironing commence.”

Mike: “Five hours is a half-day? That means we have to work ten hours a day the rest of the week.”
Doog: “Two and half credits a piece though. That’s more than we had five hours ago.”
Mike: “Speak for yourself. I only got two credits. The rest went to the taxi.”
Doog: “Well, I wasn’t going to walk.”
Mike: “Then you should have paid for the taxi!”

Doog: “This place isn’t so bad. We each have a bed, and it smells better than a dumpster.”
Mike: “There’s no food in the kitchen. Some of our daily salary is going to have to go towards food.”
Doog: “That might hurt the brothel budget. Is there anything not nailed down that we can pawn?”
Mike: “I don’t see anything.”
Doog: “Even the chairs are nailed down.”

Mike: “We can’t sell the bathroom door, because there isn’t one.”
Doog: “Having no door is bad enough, but did we really need the only bathroom wall to be glass?”
Mike: “This place is just one notch above a dumpster.”
Doog: “It is, but we need to keep the end goal in mind. We suffer now for the brothel later.” 

Mike: “And the food situation?”
Doog: “I think we still hit up the garbage cans.”
Mike: “If we’re working ten hours and dumpster diving tomorrow, I’m going to bed now. I’ll need my rest.”
Doog: “I’m going to stay up for a bit.”

Computer: “Power shutoff initiated. Your ten minutes of daily allotted energy have expired.”
Doog: “Or not. Well folks, this isn’t the best way to start off the season. Mike and I had our dreams for a mini-vacation destroyed. I guess it’s our own fault. We shouldn’t have gambled our money away. Those machines were too addicting. Well, I guess we did learn a little about Murex. They grow…something.”
Mike: “Licium.”
Doog: “Yeah, licium. These plants are turned into textiles in nearby factories. They are also used to make purple dyes. Speaking of factories, Mike and I are now factory workers for the next six days. Good times. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: Doog and Mike fell short of their lofty brothel goals after being fired on day #3. Impromptu steam fights are not allowed on the factory floor. Both were briefly hospitalized after eating dumpster food, but they are expected to make a full recovery. 

​Doog: “Welcome to the season finale of Season 12 of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re wrapping up both the season and our tour of the Hyperplexity by visiting the remote space-station, L1-L1. L1-L1, like most of the galaxy’s space-stations, is named after its galactic position. This large station orbits the galactic center directly – keeping it in a fixed position within the Hyperplexity. This place is supposedly a research station, but I have no idea what they’re researching. Given the geography, I’d guess, loneliness.  It’s pretty sparse out here. Well, the only way to find out is to land. Let’s head down.”

​Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in the station’s cargo bay. My initial observations are that this is a space-station. It’s easily distinguishable by its dry, sterile air. We already knew it was a space-station coming-in, so I’m not sure I delivered any new information. I guess we’ll have to wait for my guide to get any relevant information.”

​Chief: “Hey there, big man. You must be Doog. Welcome to Sakigake Station. I’m Jake Atorasu, but everyone here calls me Chief.”
Doog: “Chief, huh? Chief Engineer? Chief Scientist?”
Chief: “Nope. I’m just a pilot.”
Doog: “A Chief Pilot?”
Chief: “Nope, not even that. I’m just a regular pilot, bud.”
Doog: “That’s weird.”
Chief: “It is, man. It is.”

​Doog: “I was so distracted by your nickname, that I forgot to ask what you called this place.”
Chief: “I think this is called Corridor #83 or #85 or something. I’m not too sure.”
Doog: “No, not this exact place. You called the space-station something else. Like, Mahi-mahi Station or something like that.”
Chief: “Oh. My bad. Yeah, this place is called Sakigake Station.”
Doog: “I thought it was called L1-L1.”
Chief: “L1-L1 are the station’s coordinates. I mean, officially, that’s the name, but, like me, it has a nickname. Nobody calls it by its official name. We call it, Sakigake, which roughly translates to ‘pathfinder’.”
Doog: “Pathfinder?”
Chief: “Yep.”

​Chief: “Ha! Hilarious!”
Doog: “What?”
Chief: “Mahi-mahi Station. That’s hilarious! I finally got it!”
Doog: “It wasn’t THAT funny. Wait a minute…. I think I see what’s happening here.”
Chief: “What do you mean?”
Doog: “I’m no detective, but if we look at the clues…your delayed reaction to my joke…you thinking said joke is funny…people call you ‘Chief’. You’re high, aren’t you?”
Chief: “Perhaps a tad. Call it a perk of my job, big man.”
Doog: “I’m not sure what your job is, but how do I apply?!”
Chief: “Ha! The Pathfinder Mission is always searching for more pilots, especially funny ones. The mood can be a little somber here. You should sign up!”
Doog: “I’m not a pilot, but maybe you’re in need of a TV Host or an equally non-talented person?”
Chief: “Outside of pilots, I think we’re only looking for people that know science and stuff. It never hurts to try though.”
Doog: “I don’t science at all, but don’t count me out. I have some skills. What is this mission?”

​Chief: “The Pathfinder mission seeks faster hyperspace routes through the galaxy’s Deep Core region. There are a few routes that come close, like the Corcot Run and the Deep Core Expressway, but they don’t actually cross through the galaxy’s true deep core. Finding new, shorter routes could save time and money. It might even make the Hyperplexity more accessible.”
Doog: “This requires high pilots?”
Chief: “No, regular, lowly pilots can do it too.”
Doog: “No, I mean, high on drugs.”
Chief: “Oh, ha. Yeah, I get you. No, drugs have nothing to do with it.”

​Chief: “Some of the galaxy’s greatest scientists study collected data in an attempt to calculate shorter more direct routes through the galaxy. However, the problem lies in the data. It’s hard to get clear information from that part of the galaxy. There’s gravitational distortions, dense regions of unmapped stars, and a massive blackhole in the way.”
Doog: “This station plans on fixing that?”
Chief: “Yeah, man. I think so.”
Doog: “And drugs help?”
Chief: “Not that I know of, but testing proposed routes is extremely dangerous. Us pilots get some leeway when it comes to extracurricular activities.”
Doog: “You test the new routes?”
Chief: “Well…”

Chief: “…eventually. There’s plenty of steps before that though.”
Doog: “Like what? What am I looking at here?”
Chief: “This is the probe lab.”
Doog: “Probe lab? What are they probing?”

Chief: “No, bud. We don't probe anyone. We send them out. The LIU has sent out thousands, if not millions, of drones to more accurately map the Deep Core.”
Doog: “And they haven’t found a better way across the core?”
Chief: “Don’t underestimate the core’s size and density. There’s probably twenty million stars within a parsec of the core. It’s super dense. The drones help, but they only deliver a fraction of the necessary information.”
Doog: “Why aren’t you sending more?”
Chief: “Gravity, and, uh…hyperspace are… enemies. Yeah, let’s call them that. We can’t send too many probes, because most will be ripped from Hyperspace and will be destroyed by gravity. Each round of probes gets us more information. The plan is simple; we strategically send exponential rounds of probes as information becomes more and more available.”
Doog: “So, each round is more accurate?”
Chief: “Yep. The more info we have, the more probes that survive. The more that survive…”
Doog: “The more info we have.”
Chief: “Nailed it, dude!”

​Chief: “The number of probes dispersed depends on this lab. It’s called the Telemetry Center. They use new data from the probes to deliver more accurate mapping info for the next round of probes. I think. I’m having trouble concentrating with these potato chips cravings.”
Doog: “Fight the munchies. Tell us more.”
Chief: “I guess I know some more stuff. Maybe. Hopefully.”
Doog: “Don’t let our viewers get too confident in our reporting…”
Chief: “Huh?”
Doog: “Nothing. Please, continue.”
Chief: “Alrighty. After a dozen or so rounds of probe launches, we have some early contenders for new routes. I can’t remember any at this moment…”
Doog: “Because of drug-induced memory loss?”
Chief: “No, because of the ever-increasing number of possible routes. I’m not a genius AI or something.”
Doog: “No one on this end is accusing you of that…”

​Chief: “Undoubtedly, given my chemically-enhanced status, but I wasn’t trying to be funny. We actually have an AI attempting to compute our more promising routes.”
Doog: “So, you do. I see that now.”
Chief: “Hey bud! How’s it computing, Anaximander?”

​Anaximander: “All my computation software is running at expected levels. My processors are below the predetermined temperature ranges.”
Chief: “Ha. Don’t be so literal, dude. I mean, how’s the search for routes going?”
Anaximander: “Progress is slow, but that is expected given the slow trickle of information available for analysis.”
Doog: “What does that mean?”
Chief: “Don’t ask me.”
Anaximander: “Each successive round of probes delivers more information, but, without all the information, I cannot form full routes. It is like trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces.”
Chief: “That does sound hard. It’s hard enough putting together puzzles with all the pieces.”
Doog: “Maybe for you, Chief, but I’m not judging. You’re living my dream life.”

​Doog: “So, have you made any progress at all? Is there any part of the puzzle you’ve been able to put together?”
Anaximander: “A few years ago, I discovered a new hyperspace route called the Sakigake Reroute #6. While a nice achievement, the route is longer and less efficient than both the Corcot Run and the Deep Core Expressway. It did connect a few more worlds into the galactic economy, though. It will have its uses.”
Doog: “That’s something, I guess.”
Anaximander: “I have also calculated nearly a million partial routes in the Deep Core. Some stretch a few star systems, some cross fifty systems. Finding connections between these shorter routes will yield a hyperspace route twice as effective as anything currently in existence. I am ninety-six percent certain.”
Doog: “Hey, I’m not sure if I understand everything you’re saying, but I appreciate your effort. Anything that makes galactic travel shorter and faster is alright in my book. I spend most of my life travelling.”

​Doog: “So, this place has probes, an AI, science labs, and…a gym? I don’t see how this fits.”
Chief: “Yeah, I’m not a big fan myself, bud.”
Doog: “What? I didn’t ask if you’re a fan of gyms. I’m asking why we’re in a gym on a science-station?”
Chief: “Oh, ha. Yeah. I see your point.”
Doog: “And?”
Chief: “And what?”
Doog: “WHY is there a gym here?! WHY are we in it?!”
Chief: “Oh, I see. Well, we’re getting close to the pilot quarters. There are facilities like these to keep us pilots in tiptop shape. As you can probably tell, I don’t come here often.”
Doog: “Then why did we come here today?!”

​Chief: “Ha, I’m not sure. I spaced out. I think I was following you.”
Doog: “I was following YOU!”
Chief: “Ha, I guess its lucky we didn’t end up in an airlock.”
Doog: “For the love of the Emperor! Can we move on? It’s not fun being the sober one.”

​Chief: “No worries, Doog. This part of the station is all connected. It won’t take us long to get to the bays.”
Doog: “Unless you zone-out again. Speaking of which, you’re still with us, aren’t you?”
Chief: “I’m still here. I’m totally focused. The bay is not far off now; it’s just on the other side of the centrifuge.”
Doog: “The centrifuge? Is this one of those things that tests G-forces?”
Chief: “Yep. I hate this thing. I prefer to get the spins from…”
Doog: “…ingesting drugs. Yeah, I get it. Quit rubbing it in. Why do you pilots need to be able to withstand G-forces? Don’t inertia dampeners counter G-forces?”
Chief: “Under normal circumstances, but not when travelling in the high gravitational areas of the deep core.”

​Doog: “You fly in the deep core?”
Chief: “I wouldn’t be a good test pilot if I didn’t.”
Doog: “You’re a test pilot?”
Chief: “Well, yeah, man. I thought that was obvious.”
Doog: “How would that be obvious? You never said anything about that.”
Chief: “You think they let normal pilots get high? I don’t think so. Only us test jockeys that risk our lives get leeway like that.”
Doog: “I didn’t know you had to risk dying to get free drugs.  Maybe I’ll stay at my current job.”

​Doog: “So, what are you testing? Better ships?”
Chief: “The LIU is attacking the routing problem from two-sides. First side, find better routes – AI’s, probes, and scientists. The other side, develop better hardware – test pilots and new hyperspace technology.”
Doog: “Brute forcing your way through the core?”
Chief: “In a way. More powerful hyperspace engines are able to resist the pull of gravity for much longer. If you develop an engine that’s strong enough, then you might be able to take routes that were otherwise impossible.”
Doog: “Opening up more possible routes.”
Chief: “Nailed it again, bud.”

​Chief: “We’ve been testing this beast for the last year or so. It has some of the most powerful engines ever built into a single-seater. We call her, ‘Starblazer’, because she’s a trailblazer, but in the stars.”
Doog: “Yeah, I picked up on that one.”
Chief: “Starblazer has eight, state-of-the-art hyperspace engines. She can maintain hyperflight in some extreme gravity. She’ll stay in hyperspace a few hundred kilometers from of a type G star. Heck, she’ll skim the corona of a type M without missing a pulse.”
Doog: “That sounds good. Those letters mean something, I’m sure.”
Chief: “There is a problem though. While the engines can withstand the gravitational fields, we’re not entirely sure the hull or inertial dampeners can. The ship could break apart or the pilot could be violently crushed by excessive G’s.”
Doog: “That’s what you test? Geez, that sounds dangerous.”
Chief: “It is, bud. It is. If I didn’t have something to take the edge off, my anxiety would be through the roof.”

Chief: “Each test pushes her boundaries even further. I might be the first person to navigate the deepest parts of the core, or I could die alone, light-centuries from the next lifeform. Frick, saying that out loud gave me chills. I think we need to wrap things up. Time for part four of my anti-anxiety rips.”
Doog: “I think I needs some of those too. I never imagined how scary your job could be.”
Chief: “I’d like some company, especially a funny guy like you. Meet back in the dorms after you wrap things up. I could spare a few doses.”

Doog: “Well folks, that was L1-L1, AKA Sakigake Station. This station is home to the Pathfinder Mission, a quest to find quicker routes through the dense, deep core of the galaxy. These routes have the potential to cut down on galactic travel times. The station uses a variety of methods for determining these routes – an AI, hyperspace probes, and a full science team. They are also attempting to tackle the problem from another angle – making more powerful engines. Unfortunately, brave men and women have to risk their lives to test these new engines. It’s a steep price to pay for the travel convenience of the galactic populace. At least they get rewarded with good drugs though. Speaking of good drugs, I have some more in-depth reporting to do in Chief’s dorm. See ya next season!”
 
 
Note: Test pilots with the Pathfinder Mission are supplied with several mind-altering drugs to combat the anxiety and despair associated with their jobs, including:

• Awe (stimulant – increases reaction time and focus – usually used to counteract the effects of other drugs during flights)
• Tetrahydrocannabinol (depressant/stimulant – treats anxiety)
• Purplex (depressant – barbiturate-based sleeping aid and relaxant)
• AOF (opioid/narcotic – street name ‘Silly Lilly’ – hallucinogenic pain-killer)