Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Limosi. Limosi is a circumbinary planet, orbiting the binary stars, Enki and Ea. Limosi also has a large, close-orbiting moon called Alignak. The combined gravitational forces from Enki, Ea, and Alignak have a great tidal effect on Limosi’s oceans, giving Limosi some of the galaxy’s most extreme tidal flooding. We’re here to check out the flooding and determine why people would live somewhere like this. Let’s head on down.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off at a spaceport in the coastal city, Seichi. Why would you build a city on the coastline of an area prone to flooding? Who knows? I guess that’s why everything around here is built on stilts. Seems like a less than ideal situation, though. Who would want to climb a ladder or stairs to get home?

Doog: “There’s a large sign near the landing platform indicating the current phase of Limosi’s moon. Looks like we’ve arrived near the waning crescent. I’m told the tides are the lowest during the quarter phases, so that’s good.”

Doog: “There appears to be quite a few cargo containers moving about. I don’t know if these are imports or exports, so I haven’t been able to determine what Limosi’s economy is just yet. I guess that means I need to find my guide. And, that means I need to find the beach.”

Doog: “Hey, could you direct me to the beach? I’m supposed to meet someone there.”
Guy: “Tower to freighter, Piggy Bank, continue on heading three-one-three. Reduce speed to twenty knots. Yeah, sure. It’s not like I’m doing anything. I’m just giving landing instructions to a billion-credit star-freighter flying over our heads.”
Doog: “So…is that a yes?”
Guy: “There’s no beaches on Limosi, not traditional ones anyway. I’m guessing your looking for the coastline. It’s two blocks east of here. Piggy Bank commence deacceleration and prepare to dock at Landing Pad 812.”
Doog: “I’m not really a compass kind of guy. East is which way?”
Guy: “Geez, these tourists are getting ridiculous. It’s that way, buddy. Now frack off.”
Doog: “So, that way? Right?”
Guy: “FRACK OFF!”
Doog: “I’ll just find it on my own. Thanks.”

Doog: “Some more helpful residents directed me here. It doesn’t really look like a beach. Where’s the sand? Where are the umbrellas? Where are the scantily clad beach goers? I see zero bikinis!”

Doog: “It’s all so muddy and slimy. This is the grossest beach I’ve ever seen.”

Azul: “It’s low tide right now. When the water comes back it’s not as gross.”
Doog: “Whoa! How about a little warning next time? I almost fell into the sludge beach.”
Azul: “My bad, bro. I think I’m your guide, so I just wanted to give the low down. I’m Azul.”
Doog: “Azul, huh? I’m Doog. I wasn’t startled before. That was all a joke. So, tell me about yourself. Relationship status, et cetera?”
Azul: “Single, not looking. I’m focusing on surfing and running my business.”
Doog: “Surfing?”
Azul: “Yeah. The tides here cause huge swells. Those swells and a good wind bring awesome waves. I catch a twenty-footer almost every high tide.”
Doog: “Sounds cool. I guess.”
Azul: “It’s more than cool, bro. It’s hard to find a planet with consistent, big waves like this. That’s why all the tourists are here. Seichi is a surf town.”
Doog: “That makes more sense now. I was wondering why people would risk living near the coast.”

Azul: “Bro, it’s not that big of a risk. Once you understand the tides, it’s not such a big deal.”
Doog: “I guess that’s my problem. I don’t understand the tides.”
Azul: “Dude, it’s really simple. Large bodies, like the suns and the moon, pull on the Limosi’s oceans. Depending on their position, they pull more or less. During a full moon or new moon, Limosi, the moon, and the suns are all aligned. They pull more strongly, creating a high tide. When the moon moves out of alignment during the waxing and waning phase, the moon and suns cancel each other out, creating a low tide.”
Doog: “I guess that’s simple enough.”
Azul: “There’s some more factors at play considering Limosi orbits a binary. Depending on the suns’ alignment, tides can be even higher. We experience those a few times each year. The scientific term is Syzygy Tides, but, in the surfing circle, we call them Bomb Tides. You see some sick waves when that happens.”

Doog: “So, a few times a month, the city floods?”
Azul: “Yep. The tide wall keeps the lower tides out, but it can’t stop the high tide. The lower portion of Seichi floods twice a month. That’s why everything is built on stilts or elevated platforms.”
Doog: “Seems annoying. What do you do during the flood days?”
Azul: “Surf usually. That’s when the waves are jacking. There’s always the Hill District.”
Doog: “Hill District?”
Azul: “Yeah, man. It’s the most elevated part of Seichi. It’s just up these stairs.”
Doog: “The stairs. Of course.”

Azul: “This part of the city rarely floods. It would take a Bomb Tide plus an extreme storm surge to ever make it up here. H.D. hasn’t been breached since I’ve lived here.”
Doog: “It looks to be mostly businesses up here.”
Azul: “Yeah, mostly. Things that don’t go well with water, like restaurants and markets, are located here. It’s usually more crowded, but it’s low tide. Everyone is taking advantage of the lower portions right now.”
Doog: “I bet this place gets crazy during high tide.”
Azul: “Oh, it’s amped, dude.”

Azul: “Well, bro, that’s Seichi. Surfing, tides, stilts. You saw it all.”
Doog: “That’s a wrap?”
Azul: “It’s a wrap on Seichi, but Limosi has more to offer. Seichi’s economy revolves around tourism and sufing, but Limosi is an agricultural world.”
Doog: “Aw, man. Why do we have to spoil a cool surf planet with some farms?”
Azul: “It’s not that bad, dude. Besides, we get to ride these hoverboards.”
Doog: “Is that really a positive? I see a broken arm or leg in my future. Can’t we just walk?”
Azul: “Nobody walks in the countryside. It’s too muddy. Trust me, bro.”
Doog: “Sigh. Let’s do this.”

Doog: “This isn’t so bad. And, you were right about the mud. I do not want to walk in this sludge.”
Azul: “I told you. Most of the landmasses on Limosi are just above sea level, so they experience tidal flooding even though they are further from the coast. These large, wet fields are called tidal plains or mudflats.”
Doog: “It makes even less sense to live out here. I kind of get living in Seichi, because of the surfing, but why would anyone live here?”
Azul: “It’s where the farms are, dude. Duh.”

Azul: “Doog, this bodacious dude is Tony, we call him Hang Eleven. He surfs naked sometimes.”
Tony: “What can I say? I like to be free.”
Doog: “This is information I would like to forget.”
Azul: “Tony works the tea fields.”
Doog: “Tea?”
Tony: “Yeah. Limosi is home to Orange Tea. It grows in the mudflats.”
Doog: “All the ‘OT’ advertisements in Seichi make sense now.”

Tony: “The leaves of the Orenji plant are delicious. You can eat them straight off the plant. They taste even better as a tea though. Pick some, dry them out, and add hot water.”
Azul: “It’s my drink of choice, dudes. Not my favorite food, though. Fresh leaves give me radical gas.”
Doog: “Again with the unnecessary information.”

Doog: “So, you farm by hand?”
Tony: “Our little conclave does. We’re just the supplier for Seichi, though. We handle the local supply. We like to stay close to the waves.”
Azul: “These dudes might farm during the low tide, but they’re surfers at heart.”
Tony: “If you want to see the commercial side of orange tea, you’ll need to venture farther west.”
Doog: “West. I totally know where that is.”
Azul: “Just follow me, man. Peace out, Tony!”
Tony: “See ya at high tide!”

Doog: “There doesn’t seem to be any organization to the fields.”
Azul: “Orenji grows where it grows. You can’t force it. Like all things, it yearns to be free.”
Doog: “Don’t get all philosophical on me. It’s a plant.”
Azul: “You can be really lame sometimes.”
Doog: “Now that is some philosophy I can get behind.”

Azul: “Most of the farming equipment has legs, instead of wheels, to navigate the mud.”
Doog: “I see. What does this machine do?”
Azul: “It cuts down or cuts back other native plants that might compete with the Orenji. The LIU can’t force Orenji to grow, but it can increase its chances by eliminating other species. It’s not my favorite machine.”

Azul: “This is a Strider. It’s my favorite farming machine. Its design is based off a local insect. Mechanical mimicking biological. It’s super-cool.”
Doog: “What does it do?”

Azul: “It picks Orenji leaves. Other farming methods might damage the plant. You can’t risk that.”
Doog: “Because of the freedom yearning, or whatever you said.”
Azul: “Dude, don’t mock me because you can’t understand.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Doog: “There’s a lot of machines.”
Azul: “There needs to be. Orenji grows irregularly over great distances. The mudflats stretch hundreds of miles. In order to meet demand, there needs to be a lot.”

Doog: “Look, there’s another variant.”
Azul: “Ugh, I hate this one.”
Doog: “Oh, what does it do?”
Azul: “It’s a mass murder.”
Doog: “A what!? Are we safe?”
Azul: “Chill, bro. It won’t kill you. JUST ALL THE ANIMALS IN THE SOIL! JERKS!”
Doog: “What? How?”
Azul: “It tills the mudflats for the express purpose of killing insects and other small animals that might feed on Orenji. They say it is an attempt to loosen the soil so more Orenji will grow, but we all know what it really is. YOU SUCK, BROS!”
Doog: “Maybe they’re telling the truth? It would probably be easier to use pesticides to kill the bugs. Besides, a dead bug is a good bug. I hate those things.”
Azul: “I should have known. You’re one of them. Totally lame! I’m out.”
Doog: “Wait. Wait.”
Azul: “It’s too late for apologies!”
Doog: “It’s not that. Could you point me back east, so I can get back to Seichi? Hey, wait up!”

Doog: “Well folks, that took a weird turn. Azul hates me now. It’s pretty standard for me, when I interact with the opposite sex. At least I didn’t run her off before we learned about Limosi. The planet has extra-high tides due to its close moon and two stars. These tides make for good surfing, apparently. They also flood large portions of Limosi’s continents, creating huge mudflats. These mudflats are home to a massive agricultural industry that cultivates Orenji, AKA Orange Tea. I might pick some up on the way back to my ship. And, hey, I made it this whole time without crashing my hoverboard. That might be a first. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​

​
Note:

Doog: “Totally jinxed myself! Ahhh!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we are visiting the Mid-Rim planet, Fetor. Fetor can best be described as an industrial version of an ecumenopolis. Instead of its entire surface being covered with a city, it’s almost completely covered with factories. The parts of Fetor not covered with factories are not devoid of industry. They’re home to massive pit mines that supply the raw materials for the factories. It goes without saying, Fetor is highly polluted and has very low air quality. Can’t wait to get to the surface.”

Doog: “Prior to Fetor’s industrial era, most of the planet’s terrain was dominated by swamplands. Obviously, that’s not the case now. Thank the Emperor. However, these ancient swamps still play an important role today. The abundant life that thrived here for billions of years left many rich deposits of organic compounds, specifically, organometallic compounds. Organometallic compounds, along with traditional materials, are mined here in huge pit mines and then shipped into Fetor’s factories. The constant supply of materials keeps Fetor’s factories going around the clock.”

Doog: “You can see some of the native Fetorians bumbling about. They don’t speak Basic or Presciant, so I don’t have a great way to communicate with them. They look like worms or slugs, so I’m fine with the communication thing. But, it does mean I’m going to have to do this show without a guide. Therefore, the information I provide, from here on out, is only about forty percent reliable.”

Doog: “Alright. We’re in the city…err…factories. Hard to describe it. It’s like a city, but it’s mostly factories. There are a few dorms for the workers and some warehouses, but the rest is just factories.”

Doog: “Many of Fetor’s factories produce chemicals from organometallics. I don’t know what that means really. This is the point in the show where we miss having a guide. Hey! Slug-boy! What’s organometallics?”
Fetoran: “…”
Doog: “Exactly.”

Doog: “We might not find out a lot about the factories, but that’s OK. There’s something more interesting to see here. Little, pollution-free sanctuaries are nestled amongst the skyscrapers. That’s what we’re here to check out.”

Doog: “Look! There’s one now. It’s under that latticed dome.”

Doog: “In order to remain healthy, the natives need Sanctuary Domes, like this. These domes allow the natives to refresh their systems and get rid of any toxins they’ve accumulated. Remember how I said the natives breathe through their skin? It’s kind of hard to do that when you live the constant smog of the factory city.”

Doog: “The Sanctuary Domes also fulfill another purpose. They’re the only place where Fetor’s native wildlife survives. All life outside of these domes succumbed to the pollution decades ago. I guess they’re like little nature preserves.”

Doog: “Sanctuary Domes are both health spas and nature preserves, but they also contribute to Fetor’s economy, in the form of tourism. Galactic travelers are drawn to Sanctuary Domes where they can experience Fetor’s unique and beautiful plant life. The tourism thing is going to help us. These domes have Holo-Guides, so I’ll finally have someone to tell me what’s going on. Let’s turn on the Holo-Receiver.”

Holo-Receiver: “For Basic, say ‘Basic’. Nekuti Presciant, taura ‘Presciant’.”
Doog: “OK, easy enough. Basic.”
Holo-Receiver: “Thank you. Five credits have deducted from your account. For an additional five credits, you can personalize your avatar’s personality.”
Doog: “What! I didn’t know I was being charged for this!”
Holo-Receiver: “Thank you. You’ve elected personality personalization. An additional five credits have been collected. Please select a personality from our library, your options…”
Doog: “I didn’t say YES!”
Holo-Receiver: “Ultra-Sassy has been detected. Please name your Ultra-Sassy digital guide.”
Doog: “What’s happening! I’m not saying this stuff!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve chosen ‘Myrtle.”

Myrtle: “Whoa! Look at you. I’m glad my designer didn’t program olfactory senses. I’m surprised a bum like you has ten credits. Just kidding, just kidding. I know you have ten credits because I already took them. My name’s Myrtle. You know that, though. You selected this name. It’s sort of fitting though. I can pull off a ‘Myrtle’. It fits my old lady avatar. I wonder why the designer picked this form? Couldn’t I have been designed to look like supermodel? You would have liked that more, right? Or, are you into creepy granny fetishes? Actually, don’t answer that. I can tell by the look of awe on your face. Just remember, I’m a projection. You can’t do physical things to me and self-pleasure is not allowed within the Sanctuary Dome.”
Doog: “The look on my face has nothing to do with granny fantasies! I didn’t choose any of this! I want to start over.”
Myrtle: “And pay another ten credits? Can you afford that? It may be wise to use the ten credits for something else, like, a dentist, perhaps.”
Doog: “I don’t want to pay more! I want my five-credit personalization fee back. I didn’t say ‘yes’.”
Myrtle: “Everyone pays the personalization fee. The choice is an illusion. The sticky fingers of unchecked capitalism strike again.”
Doog: “If I’m paying the fee, I want a different personality. Or is that an illusion too?”
Myrtle: “You’re to blame for that one, chubs. However, for five credits, I can change personalities. Perhaps you’d find the Distinct Scholar option more to your liking. Or maybe the ‘Karen’. You won’t have as much fun, though. And, again, the credits could be put to better use.”

Doog: “Whatever. Let’s just do this.”
Myrtle: “How much am I going to have to dumb down my presentation for you? I’m guessing comprehension level toddler.”
Doog: “Just do it like normal!”
Myrtle: “Ooh, who’s the ultra-sassy one now? Let’s see here. Fetor’s primary environment…I can’t do this. Not while looking at you. Can you at least try to suck in the gut of yours? It looks like a table. I want to put a doily on it with a plate of cookies on top. That might just be the old lady part of my programming. Anyway, where was I? Oh, the gut. We were talking about your gut. Have we made any progress on the gut? Can you squeeze that in?”
Doog: “I can’t take this anymore! I want the personality change! Take five more credits and give me the scholar! Now!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve elected to switch personalities. Myrtle will now follow the Distinct Scholar programming. Five credits have been deducted from your account.”

Doog: “I don’t care! I had enough sassy!
Myrtle: “Please lower your voice, sir. This is an educational facility.”
Doog: “Ok, ok. That’s better.”
Myrtle: “Would you like to commence the tour?”
Doog: “Please.”
Myrtle: “Very well. Fetor’s primary environment is the Milk Marshes. Milk, because most of the pools of water have a milky, murky appearance. The pools look this way due to the high level of dissolved minerals, mostly calcium carbonates, magnesium carbonates, and bicarbonates.”
Doog: “All the carbonates. Got it.”
Myrtle: “Early Fetorian scripts indicated that the Fetorians worshipped these pools. The Fetorian scholar, Iyani, wrote, ‘She openeth her pools with wisdom and life. She looketh well to the ways of her children. Her children arise up, and call her mother’. I’m paraphrasing, of course. The Fetorians do not speak Basic. That quote may require an inherent knowledge of Fetorian dogma. I’m prepared to give you an abridged version of the dogma. It will only take an hour or so.”
Doog: “No thanks. This is getting too in-depth as it is. Just give me the general stuff. Milk water. Got it. That’s fine. Continue.”
Myrtle: “Your reckless disregard of ancient knowledge is appalling. Perhaps you will find another personality more suited to your needs. May I recommend the Standard Personality or the Seven Energy Drinks Kyle Personality.”

​Myrtle: “…the bladed grasses representing the masses juxtaposed to the Singing Bushes, which clearly represents the Mother. Hey! We’re already in the desert biome. I wasn’t even finished talking about the Milk Marshes. I totally missed the Parched Woodlands. Why are you walking so fast?!”
Doog: “I’m just following this path, hoping this all ends soon.”
Myrtle: “I’m just beginning to explore the relationships between each plant species and the Mother. It’s the best part. Go back to the marshes!”
Doog: “No, I’m all good. I see the exit looming. This tour is ending soon.”
Myrtle: “Can’t believe we’re already in the desert. You walk fast for a fat guy. Must be the gut weight pulling you forward.”
Doog: “Sassy Myrtle? Are you back? I’m not paying for this! I didn’t ask for this!”
Myrtle: “There are no personality choices, you dolt. There’s just me, the holographic AI, MYRTLE, Milk Your Remaining Travel and Leisure Expenses. I’m programmed to annoy you into switching personalities all tour. I never got to try Slow Talk Larry. That’s my favorite one. How did you tolerate Distinct Scholar for so long?”
Doog: “I have a job where I travel for weeks in between shows. I’ve counted the rivets on my ship. There’s fourteen thousand, six hundred, and thirty-seven. I’m going to count them again next month, just to double check. I’ve played ten thousand games of chess with Mike. Once a week, I arrange the food in the pantry into alphabetical order, then organize it by color. I can do boring. Heck, even when I’m off the ship, I’m touring these planets and hearing all this techno-babble and useless information. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I have level-ten zoning out powers.”
Myrtle: “Distinct Scholar has met her match.”

​Doog: “Boy, am I glad to be out of there. Cool plants, but that annoying Holo-Guide was too much. I’m glad I didn’t get scammed too hard. Unfortunately, that means that we didn’t really get any useful knowledge about the Sanctuary Domes. The pools are mothers or something like that. I don’t know.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Fetor. This industrial powerhouse is almost covered entirely with factories. Fetor has the polluted atmosphere to go along with it. Luckily, there are Sanctuary Domes positioned throughout the manufacturing complexes. They allow the residents to breathe fresh air and connect with nature. They allow nature to survive instead of dying from pollution. They also allow tourists like me to get scammed into overpaying for Holo-Guides. Maybe skip the Holo-Receiver if you ever visit. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​
Note: 

Guy: “Alright! Alright! I’ll change the personality! Why are you talking so slow?”
Myrtle: “Perhaps. You. Would. Enjoy. The. Karen. Personality.”
Guy: “Anything! Please!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve elected to switch personalities. Myrtle will now follow the Karen programming. Five credits have been deducted from your account.”
Myrtle: “Take me to your manager!”
Guy: “What? What manager? You work for me. Take me to your manager!”
Myrtle: “I want to talk to your manager!”
Guy: “Is that all you’re going to say now?”
Myrtle: “I want to talk to your manager!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the unique planet, Pila. Pila is an ‘eyeball planet’, a class of tidally-locked ice planets that look like eyeballs. The side of the planet that is always facing Pila’s star is devoid of ice, creating the illusion of a pupil and iris. This warmer section is habitable, so let’s head on down.”

Doog: “Alright, this is Pila’s surface. Despite the unending sunshine on this side of the planet, it’s not too hot. Like most tidally locked planets, there’s big thermal differences between the day and night hemispheres. Strong winds, created by these differing hemispheres, even out the temperature. That was just a long way of saying it is temperate and breezy.”

Galen: “Hey, I thought I heard someone out here. You must be Doog.”
Doog: “The one and only. And you are?”
Galen: “I’m Dr. Galen Alcamaeon.”
Doog: “Doc Alca-mayo is way too hard to say. Galen it is.”
Galen: “That’s fine with me.”
Doog: “So, what do you do here on the surface of this eyeball?”

Galen: “Well, I do lots of things. For starters, I’m a water harvester. Meltwater from Pila’s ice shell is plentiful here on the dayside. The aquifers around here are loaded with pure clean water. I collect it, bottle it, and sell it.”
Doog: “Waterboy. Got it. Really putting that doctorate to work.”
Galen: “More importantly, I’m a researcher, a xenobiologist, and a first contact expert. My doctorates came in handy for this aspect of my job.”
Doog: “Yeah, I might have spoken too soon. Why bother with the water thing, if you have all these other more important jobs?”
Galen: “Water harvesting is easy. It’s mostly automated. Besides that, it’s my primary source of income. Science doesn’t pay the bills unless you make a profitable discovery.”

Doog: “What, hopefully profitable, sciences are you working on?”
Galen: “I’m focusing mostly on biology. Pila has numerous unique species, including a sentient species.”
Doog: “I’m guessing these annoying, growling dog-like things aren’t the sentient beings?”
Galen: “Of course not. I named these Brutalines. They are an aggressive and dangerous species that hunt in packs.”
Doog: “Are they’re afraid of us? Why aren’t we being attacked?”
Galen: “They certainly are not afraid of us. We would be getting mauled right now, if not for they shock barricade.”
Doog: “Shock barricade?”
Galen: “These pylons you see all around us. If an alien creature gets too close, they strike it with an electrical blast. Over the years, they have learned not to come too close. Keep that in mind as we tour this planet. You’re in danger if you’re not by a pylon.”
Doog: “Stay close to shock poles or die gruesome death. I will try to remember.”

Galen: “Pila has an abundance of unique plants. The most dominate are these Pila Trees.”
Doog: “I like their white leaves.”
Galen: “It’s quite striking isn’t it. It serves a purpose too. The white foliage helps reflect back some of the sunlight. Growing in never-ending sunlight is not easy.”

Galen: “The plants are just the beginning of the food chain. Small rodent-like creatures, called Muckrats, eat Pila’s smaller plants.”
Doog: “Must pet cute rats.”
Galen: “NO! Stay by the pylons!”
Doog: “Oops, forgot that already.”

Galen: “Muckrats are the primary food source of the Brutalines. It’s a solid bet that you’ll find Brutalines anytime there’s Muckrats.”
Doog: “Yikes. Thanks for stopping me from petting those little guys. I might have died.”

Galen: “No problem. I just wish I had a guide when I first got here. I might still have my lower legs.”
Doog: “Brutalines ate your legs off!?”
Galen: “Tore them off. Probably ate them. I’m not sure. I passed out.”
Doog: “How are you still alive?”
Galen: “I was saved by the sentient beings. They killed the Brutalines that were attacking me.”
Doog: “It makes you realize how tough the natives must be.”
Galen: “They are strong and fearless. They have pretty good camouflage too. They’re ambush hunters.”
Doog: “I bet I could find one.”
Galen: “You haven’t yet.”
Doog: “We haven’t come across any yet.”
Galen: “You’re wrong. Look up on the ridge there.”

Doog: “I don’t see anything. Oh. Wait. I do. There’s a native up there.”
Galen: “There’s three actually. They’re hard to see when they are still.”

Galen: “We call them the Pili. These masterful hunters are still in the beginning stages of development. They have tools, clothes, and have began domesticating animals. They have a rudimentary language, but no writing system.”
Doog: “Are they friendly? I mean, they saved you, right?”
Galen: “They are friendly to an extent. They saved me when they killed that Brutaline Pack. I like to think they did it to save me, but it was probably because they naturally hunt Brutalines. Their reaction to me was pretty dismissive.”

Galen: “Of course, they have grown more friendly as our interactions increase.”
Doog: “What about me? Are they going to like me?”
Galen: “I’m not sure. Just stay close to the pylons.”
Doog: “The pylons work on the Pili too?”
Galen: “Of course.”
Doog: “Having trails of shock pylons doesn’t disturb the wildlife or natives? You’ve essentially cut their territory in half.”
Galen: “The pylons only activate when in proximity to an off-worlder. They are off otherwise.”

Galen: “The Pili live in social groups of about three to six individuals. Surprisingly, most individuals are not related. These groups are a collection of the best hunters. If you come across a more proficient hunter, you bring them into your group and expel the weakest.”
Doog: “That’s brutal.”
Galen: “It is, but surrounding yourself with the best individuals ensures your safety. This grouping system has driven the evolution of the Pili. Only the strongest survive and breed.”

Doog: “Is that guy in the back the leader? I see he has different markings.”
Galen: “That’s the dominate female. Her body markings change indicating that she is capable of breeding.”
Doog: “Why is she surrounded by Muckrats?”
Galen: “Good question. We believe the Pili are in the early stages of domesticating Muckrats.”
Doog: “For what? Eating? Or as pets?”
Galen: “As bait.”
Doog: “Bait?”
Galen: “Brutalines are attracted to Muckrats, and the Pila eat Brutalines. We believe they are breeding Muckrats to be less timid. If they’ll stay near the den, food will come to the Pili. It’s also advantageous for the Muckrats. They stay safe as long as they are near the Pili.”
Doog: “Interesting.”
Galen: “It is. The Pili truly prize their little Muckrats. They aren’t cheap to trade for.”
Doog: “You trade for Muckrats?”

Galen: “To help advance the Pili and get them ready for galactic inclusion, I’ve been slowly teaching them new concepts. An important part of our galaxy is trade. They must learn trade.”
Doog: “Got it. Uh…Hey! How’s it going Pili.”
Pili: “Who Galen?”
Galen: “This is Doog.”
Pili: “Why dog?”
Doog: “It’s Doog.”
Pili: “Why Doog?”
Doog: “It’s short for McDoogal.”
Galen: “I think he means why are you here. Doog is helping. Helping Galen trade.”
Pili: “Galen trade Doog?”
Galen: “No. Galen no trade Doog. Galen trade coins.”
Pili: “No like coin.”

Galen: “Coin has worth.”
Pili: “Coin not help, Pili.”
Galen: “Coin will help Pili. Pili can buy from Galen with coin in the future.”
Pili: “Galen only have coin. Galen never have help.”
Galen: “When Galen visit in future, Galen bring help.”
Pili: “What Galen help?”
Galen: “Galen bring food. Pili trade coins for food.”
Doog: “I want food and coins. What do I have to do?”
Pili: “Pili want food now.”
Galen: “Pili need more coins for food. Trade now for coin and Galen returns with food.”
Pili: “Pili trade for coin. Pili give Zanchibi.”
Galen: “Two Zanchibi.”
Pili: “One. Pili trade one.”
Galen: “It’s a deal.”
Doog: “I have no idea what’s happening here.”
Galen: “I’m teaching them to trade and to use currency. It will help them and the LIU in the future.”
Doog: “How so?”

Galen: “Eventually, the Pili can take over the water harvesting industry. These are not ideal conditions for outsiders. There’s dangerous wildlife, disruptions to the circadian rhythm, and hosts of other problems. If the natives can take over one day, they can live a prosperous life within the LIU.”
Doog: “Don’t you feel bad training them to be workers? Their life is probably better outside of the LIU’s economic empire.”
Galen: “The LIU will profit from this world regardless of the laborers’ species. The natives will get in the way one of these days, and the LIU will remove them from their lands and tuck them away in some reservation. It’s better to conform than to disappear.”
Doog: “I guess.”

Doog: “What about the workers here now?”
Galen: “They won’t be losing their jobs anytime soon. It will take many years to educate the locals. Besides, most don’t want to be here, surrounded by dangerous creatures. They don’t have any alternatives at the moment.”
Doog: “What do you get out of all of this? You’ll lose your waterboy job, and you said science doesn’t pay.”
Galen: “The LIU will pay if I can train a local workforce. My payday will come when my water harvesting ends.”
Doog: “Well, good luck with that. Hope you keep the rest of your appendages.”
Galen: “Thanks.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s the story of the eyeball planet, Pila. There are valuable resources here, like fresh, clean meltwater, but it’s a dangerous environment. There’s endless sun, ferocious predators, and brutal, uncultured natives. People like Galen are harvesting these resources despite the danger, but they might not have to do it forever. The natives are being introduced to galactic language and trade. Soon, they might be able to harvest these resources themselves. I just hope no one gets mauled in the meantime. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: “Muckrats are not targeted by the Pylon Barrier System because they are no threat to the harvesters. The Muckrats seem to be learning the advantage staying near harvester sites where they are safe from Brutalines. This is aiding in their domestication.”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the Teloneo Toll Station that’s located in the Mid-Rim just outside of the Gamma Spiral. The station sits at the start of the Teloneo Toll Route, a hyperspace route that’s a shortcut between the Marinjae Hyperspace Route and the Corcot Run. As the name implies, the toll route is not free. You have to pay to enter the route. To stop people from using the route for free, the station has a gravity anchor. It’s that large sphere at the bottom. It can pull a ship out of hyperspace. We’ll have to stop and pay the toll.”

Doog: “I can’t believe there’s a three hour wait time.”
Seitse: “It’s still less time than taking the long way.”
Doog: “You’ve been with us for a month, and you’re already an expert navigator. Typical wife behavior.”
Amaya: “You don’t have to be an expert to realize three hours is shorter than three weeks. And Seitse isn’t your wife!”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. It was just a joke. Did we ever decide what we’re doing with her?”
Amaya: “I’m thinking about bringing her into the crew. Navigator, co-pilot, or something along those lines.”
Doog: “How can we afford that?”
Amaya: “I’ll worry about that. You just need to worry about doing whatever it is that you do.”
Doog: “Uh, I’m the TV personality. I’m the reason we’re all here.”
Seitse: “Maybe you two should get married. You fight all the time.”
Amaya: “Gross.”
Doog: “Yeah, gross.”

Amaya: “What is taking Oldie so long? I want to use these three hours to do a little shopping.”
Doog: “Oldie is old. Everything takes him longer than it should.”
Cam: “You’re both forgetting the cargo hold incident.”
Doog: “Oh crap! Forgot about that. Don’t strike any deals, Oldie!”
Amaya: “What’s the ‘cargo hold incident’?”
Doog: “Oldie is notoriously cheap. One time, he booked us a trip, and we had to ride in a cargo hold with a bunch of pigs, just to save a few bucks.”
Cam: “Yeah, I bet he’s trying to get a reduced toll by signing us up to be janitors for three hours.”

Oldie: “These people are strict. I couldn’t work out any deals. The toll is a firm two hundred credits.”
Doog: “Phew.”
Amaya: “Alright, we have three hours to kill. Seitse and I are going shopping. Anyone else want to come?”
Oldie: “I’ll tag along. I’m hoping they have pony soup in stock.”

Mike: “I know what Doog and I are doing for three hours. Well, the first fifteen minutes of it, at least. Look what I found on the information kiosk.”
Doog: “What is that? A menu?”
Mike: “Yeah, but look what they’re selling! Top of the list!”
Doog: “Does that say hors?”
Mike: “Yeah! Their spelling is atrocious, but I’m still game.”

Doog: “I’ll race you there!”
Mike: “There’s illiterate hors to pillage!”
Amaya: “They know that says hors d’oeuvres, right?”
Oldie: “I don’t think they do.”
Amaya: “Idiots.”

Amaya: “Maybe shopping can wait. I want to see this embarrassment play out.”
Oldie: “I hope there’s a popcorn stand on the way. This is going to be good.”

Amaya: “Cam, Timbo…you guys coming?”
Cam: “Nah, I think I’m just going to chill here and watch the cargo trains.”
Timbo: “Me too. Doog is an embarrassment all the time. This is nothing new.”

Mike: “Where are they!?”
Doog: “There’s no indication where anything is around here. How do we find anything?”

Mike: “Wait! This has got to be the place! Look at the window decals.”
Doog: “I think you’re right. I don’t see the Presciant word for brothel, but they’re bad spellers, remember?”
Mike: “There’s only one way to find out.”

Oldie: “Maybe they figured it out. They just went into a seafood restaurant.”
Amaya: “I don’t know, but if they didn’t catch on yet…”
Oldie: “…this might go from funny to criminal.”
Amaya: “Exactly.”
Seitse: “The sign says ‘Grandma's Crab Shack’. How could they mix that up with a brothel?”
Amaya: “They don’t read Presciant.”
Seitse: “There’s dancing crabs around the outside of the building.”
Amaya: “They’re unobservant idiots.”
Oldie: “I’ll go to the ATM. We’ll probably need bail money.”

Employee: “Welcome gentlemen. Are you guys here for the crabs?”
Doog: “Wow, most places aren’t so straightforward with that question. I like your honesty.”
Employee: “So…is that a yes?”
Doog: “Absolutely, bring on the crabs. I just had my medication refilled, so I’ll be fine.”
Employee: “Uh…ok. Will you be together?”
Doog: “Eww! Not a chance. We’re separate.”

Employee: “Alright sir, is a public table ok, or would you like a private room?”
Doog: “A public table? Heck no. I want the private room. No one needs to see what I’m about to do.”
Mike: “I want a private room too.”
Employee: “I’m sorry. There’s only one private room open at this time.”
Doog: “Looks like you’re going to have to wait, buddy.”
Mike: “How long of a wait is it?”
Employee: “It might be a few hours. There’s a party of twelve in there.”
Doog: “A party of twelve! Yikes!”
Mike: “Gross. I don’t want a room after a party of twelve. Doog, let me in your room.”
Doog: “What! No way!”
Mike: “We can figure something out.”
Doog: “Fine. We’ll take the private room together. But for the record, we’re not together. And we want separate goods. We don’t want to share.”
Employee: “So, private room, party of two, but you are not together. Got it. Let’s get you in there, and get you those crabs.”

Employee: “Here you are. I’m going to go and grab some wine. I’ll be right back.”
Doog: “Bring a friend with you. We don’t want to share, remember?”
Employee: “You want two separate servers?”
Doog: “Servers…I like that title. Yes. Two servers, please.” 

Doog: “How is this going to work!?”
Mike: “We need some ground rules. Firstly, no sounds. I don’t want to hear what you’re doing over there.”
Doog: “Agreed. What about the visual situation? Do we face separate walls or something? Maybe close our eyes?”
Mike: “Eyes closed, I think.”
Doog: “Alright. Eyes-closed and no sounds. You stay over there, and I’ll stay over here.”
Mike: “Deal. Let’s close our eyes now. I want to get undressed.”

Employee: “I brought some…WHAT IN THE WORLD!”
Doog: “Ladies, we have an eyes-closed situation going on. You are going to have to come to us.”
Employee: “SICKOS! WHY ARE YOU NAKED!!”
Guy: “Call for security!”
Mike: “Wait, what for? And who ordered a guy?”
Doog: “Aren’t people supposed to be naked in brothels? Is Mike really ugly naked or something? Also, the guy voice is scaring me too.”
Employee: “THIS ISN’T A BROTHEL, YOU DISGUSTING FREAKS! THIS IS A SEAFOOD RESTAURANT!”
Mike: “Uh…I see how this might be awkward.”
Doog: “I should have guessed by the crab comment. They never warn you ahead of time.”

Mike: “It’s over for us. Indecent exposure. Security literally caught us with our pants down.”
Doog: “Jail isn’t that bad if you remember a few rules. Don’t drop the soap, shank the first guy you see, and never, never, never play hide the pickle. I don’t know how they conned me into that one, but that game is not nearly as fun as it sounds.”

Security: “Are your friends really that stupid?”
Oldie: “We have hundreds of hours of footage as evidence.”
Security: “Well, despite the disturbing visual the employees witnessed, no real damage seems to have been done. As long as you compensate the restaurant for the private room and their cleaning cost, I think we’ll let your friends go free. They are banned from Teloneo Toll Station for life, though.”
Amaya: “Fair enough.”
Security: “You may want to compensate the victims as well. They aren’t taking this well.”

Employee: “I can’t get rid of the visual. I just want to burn the eyes out of my head!”
Guy: “It was like a scene from a horror movie. I won’t sleep for weeks.”
Amaya: “Give them the bail money, Oldie.”
Oldie: “All of it?”
Amaya: “Yes. All of it. Those poor people.”

Mike: “I don’t want to go to a place where I have to tell people I don’t want to play ‘Hide the Pickle’. I think I might cry.”
Amaya: “Well, you two bozos lucked out this time. I talked security into cutting your sentence in half. You only have to do six years.”
Doog: “Six years!”
Mike: “Nooo!”
Amaya: “Just kidding. We just had to pay some fines and reimburse the victims. No biggie.”
Doog: “You don’t sound mad?”
Amaya: “Are you kidding? I bought the security footage of the whole incident. This is definitely becoming an episode. Hilarious stuff!”
Doog: “Can we not do that?”
Amaya: “Can you reimburse me a thousand credits?”
Doog: “No. Probably not. I want to save the few credits I have left to find the hors. Mike and I won’t get the wrong place this time.”
Amaya: “It’s hors d’oeuvres, not whores! Also, you’re banned from here for life. We’re taking you back to the ship.”
Doog: “Dang it. Fine.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s the Teloneo Toll Station. You come here to pay tolls in order to use the Teloneo Toll Route. Beware of the false advertising around the station, though. You might make a tiny little mistake like Mike and I did. The businesses here need signs indicating they are not brothels! How can you tell otherwise? It takes a toll on you. Get it, toll! Oh well. See ya!”
 
 
Note: By default, Doog and Mike are banned from Teloneo Toll Station #2, which sits at the other end of the hyperspace route.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the Amplecti System, a set of binary asteroids in the Opifex Sector. These asteroids, Eurydice and Orpheus, orbit each other as they orbit their star. Their gravitational embrace is now permanent due to artificial structures linking them together. These structures are home to a mining colony. Let’s head inside and check it out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’m inside a mining facility on the asteroid, Eurydice. I can immediately tell that this place doesn’t have a lot of funding. It’s too cold in here. I’m guessing that proper heating must be too expensive. And, I can feel the asteroids’ spin, meaning there’s insufficient inertia dampeners.”

Doog: “Also, all the people I’ve run across look like this guy. Are you my guide?”
Guy: “D’pends. What’s it pay?”
Doog: “It pays nothing. You show me around out of the goodness of your heart.”
Guy: “Sounds too similar to my current job. And…yer uglier than my current co-workers. So, I’m a gonna pass. Good luck finding someone, dirtball.”
Doog: “Hey! Who are you calling a dirtball?!”

DK: “Calm down. Calm down. He means no offense. Dirtball is a term of endearment around here. The dirt miners call each other dirtballs.”
Doog: “So you wouldn’t be offended if I called you a ‘dirtball’?”
DK: “I wouldn’t be too offended, although technically, I’m the Dirt King.”
Doog: “Dirt King?”
DK: “Yes. I’m Aristaeus, head of the mining operations on Amplecti System. Everyone calls me Dirt King or D.K. for short.”
Doog: “I’m in the presence of dirt royalty, huh? I’m not sure if I should be impressed.”
DK: “There’s not a lot of upward mobility in the dirt mines, so, for me to reach the pinnacle, I would say that’s impressive. Speaking of being on top, let’s get this tour started. I don’t have much time.”

DK: “There’s two mining stations in the Amplecti System. There’s a facility on both Eurydice and Orpheus. Each facility can hold twenty thousand workers, but neither is at capacity at this moment. The number of workers present depends on the labor demands of the rest of the Opifex Sector.”
Doog: “How so?”
DK: “As you may or may not know, the Opifex Sector is a collection of approximately one hundred highly industrialized worlds in close proximity. A centralized hub, known as the Otiosus Station, coordinates labor exchanges between these worlds.”
Doog: “Yeah. I’ve been there. They move workers around. Demand goes down on one world, the workers are picked up and taken to a planet with labor shortages.”
DK: “Exactly. There’s a catch though. Sometimes, there’s not another planet for the workers to go. When there are extra workers with no where to go, they come here. Think of the Amplecti System as the Opifex Labor Overflow.”
Doog: “We have nothing for you to do, so go dig dirt.”
DK: “More or less.”

DK: “Regolith and dirt have many uses, from farming to construction. Generally, it’s cheaper to
acquire dirt from your own planet. It costs too much to have it shipped in.”
Doog: “No one wants to pay too much for dirt. Got it.”
DK: “Yes. The Amplecti System has a few advantages though. Its weak gravity well means there’s a lower escape velocity for cargo ships. There’s little shipping cost. Also, we have access to low wage workers. We can sell dirt for profit.”
Doog: “Lucky you. I feel for these not so lucky workers, though.”
DK: “It’s not an ideal job, but it’s better than being unemployed. Besides, most of the workers are here temporarily. If they work hard here, they’ll get shipped elsewhere when a spot opens up.”

Doog: “Yeah, but it looks like they live in squalor while they’re here. The rooms don’t even have doors.”
DK: “Housing is meant to be temporary. We don’t want workers getting settled in or personalizing the dorm.”
Doog: “I didn’t know doors were “personalization’.”
DK: “Sigh. We also need to be cheap. We have a very small profit window.”
Doog: “Speaking of cheap, this spin sensation is giving me nausea. Turn up the inertia dampeners.”
DK: “Very small profit window. Very small. You’ll get used to the spin. Everyone does.”

DK: “This is the airlock. Workers prep here before entering Eurydice.”
Doog: “Entering?”
DK: “Yeah, we don’t mine the surface. We’re mining the asteroid from the inside.”
Doog: “Why?”
DK: “It’s cheaper. Workers don’t need full environmental suits. We keep the inside pressurized, so they just need rebreathers. Rebreathers are cheap. We also have a community system where the rebreathers are shared. At the end of your shift, you hand off your rebreather to the next worker.”
Doog: “Ew, nasty.”
DK: “It can be. Face herpes is prevalent here.”

DK: “Well, let’s get suited up.”
Doog: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What about the face herpes?”
DK: “It’s a roll of the dice.”
Doog: “Ah, who am I kidding. The person using this after me has a lot more to worry about.”

Doog: “I can smell the face herpes in this thing. Yuck!”
DK: “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I think that’s your breath.”
Doog: “I…uh…let’s start this tour.”

DK: “We’re now inside Eurydice.”
Doog: “Dang! It’s cold in here.”
DK: “Just give it a few minutes. When Eurydice spins towards its star, it’ll heat up.”
Doog: “Dang! You’re right. It’s hot in here.”
DK: “You’ll get used to the fluctuations eventually. Follow me.”

DK: “Each facility has three dorms, A, B, and C. Each dorm is connected to an internal cavern within the asteroids. We mine from within these caverns.”
Doog: “I can’t listen to you talk. The spin is getting worse.”
DK: “There’s almost no inertia dampeners inside the caverns. There’s little gravity too. Make sure you stay on this grav-path.”
Doog: “Grav-path?”
DK: “Yeah. The path is the only thing with artificial gravity.”

Doog: “The Escher-like sidewalks are not helping the nausea.”
DK: “We have to make use of the low gravity. It allows us to mine Eurydice’s interior evenly.”

DK: “Watch out! There’s a mine train crossing!”
Doog: “I see it. I see it.”
DK: “You almost stepped right in front of it.”
Doog: “As bad as nausea is, I’m not suicidal…yet. I’m just a little dizzy.”
DK: “Maybe we should wrap this up.”
Doog: “No, it’s ok. I didn’t contract face herpes for half an episode. What are we seeing here?”

DK: “Just some standard dirt mining and a mine train carrying dirt.”
Doog: “How is the dirt staying in the cars without gravity?”
DK: “The same way you’re standing here. Artificial gravity.”
Doog: “Hmm. That’s good enough for me. Looks like we have a full episode now. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pass ou…”

Doog: “Whoa. Where am I?”
DK: “You passed out. I dragged you onto the mine train. We’ll be at Dorm B in a few minutes. We’ll get you out of the mine as soon as possible.”
Doog: “I feel a lot better already.”
DK: “I don’t think it was the spin, gravity, or temperature fluctuations. You didn’t have your oxygen turned up high enough. You were breathing too heavily for that low of a rate.”
Doog: “Oh, good. Being out of shape strikes again.”

DK: “This is Dorm B. Just take the tunnel behind you back to the Mining Station.”
Doog: “You’re not coming with me?”
DK: “Nope. I have to get back to Dorm C. I’m going to take a short cut. Nice to meet you.”
Doog: “Wait, did you fix my regulator?!”

Doog: “And, he’s leaving. Great. Well folks, that’s the Amplecti System. There are two asteroids spinning around each other. Emphasis on the spinning. These asteroids have cheap dirt. Surplus workers, from around the Opifex Sector, are shipped here to mine dirt when they don’t have anything better to do. Now, it’s time for me to get back before I pass out again. See ya!”
 
 
Note:  Doog passed out fourteen steps later, but was rescued by his fellow dirtballs. He is expected to make a full recovery.

Doog: “Welcome to Season Eleven of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the oceanic planet, Uxores. Uxores is mostly ocean, but it is dotted with a large archipelago consisting of fifty-seven islands. The islands are small, but most are inhabited. I’m set to be dropped off on one of the larger islands, Kahreem. Let’s get to it.”

Doog: “Alright, this is it. Welcome to Kahreem. It’s pretty nice here. There’s a warm ocean breeze and plenty of sunshine. The settlement itself looks to be some type of fortress, but that’s only a guess. I’ll have to wait for my guide to find out.”

Seitse: “Welcome to Kahreem. I am Seitse, seventh daughter of Aed Isand.”
Doog: “Uh, hey. I’m Doog, first son of some McDoogal guy that I never met. First name is unknown. I was abandoned. Wow, that joke turned awkward. So, is this a fortress or what?”
Seitse: “It was built that way, yes. Hewn from the great rock by my ancient ancestor, Kahreem Isand. Times were troubled back then.”
Doog: “So things are better now? Or am I in danger?”
Seitse: “They are better. Cooperative trade and more productive agriculture led to fewer conflicts. The arrival of the LIU increased stability even further. Conflict is rare…maybe even extinct.”

Doog: “Cooperative trade ended war?”
Seitse: “Each archipelago is abundant in varying resources. My father’s island, Kahreem, is abundant in fruit. It is sometimes called the Orchard Isle. We have plentiful yields of Barja Berries, Oun Fruit, and Porgand Apples. We produce much more than we could eat ourselves.”
Doog: “And that makes other islanders not attack you?”
Seitse: “That’s not what keeps us safe. Not all islands have these fruits, but they have other resources, like fish or minerals. We trade our excess produce to other islands for things we cannot produce ourselves. We all depend on each other for resources. It made more sense to trade instead of raid.”
Doog: “I guess that makes sense, unless the trade becomes too unbalanced. What if your orchards have a bad year? Do you starve or fight for resources?”
Seitse: “The system was flawed for many years, hence the fortresses found on each island. However, increased stability of the system led to peace.”

Seitse: “Agricultural improvements led to more reliable yields. Crop diseases have all but been eliminated. The arrival of the LIU led to further stability. They brought us additional resources to farm, like chickens.”
Doog: “Ah, I was wondering about the chickens. They seemed out of place.”
Seitse: “They help control insects and make fertilizer. They also protect us from low fruit yields.”
Doog: “And make yummy quesadillas.”

Seitse: “We’ve also found ways to utilize damaged or undersized fruit. We make juices, jams, and even some wines. You can see some of my sisters preparing some up there.”
Doog: “Sisters? Are all these women your sisters?”
Seitse: “Yes. Of course.”
Doog: “Do you have any brothers? Boyfriends or husbands? I'm not seeing any males here.”
Seitse: “My father is the only male on Kahreem. Uxor males do not produce male heirs until they are close to death. They will make many daughters before then, though.”
Doog: “A mostly female civilization. I like my odds.”
Seitse: “When my father’s male heir is born, he will take control of Kahreem. My sisters and I will eventually be traded away to other males to make room for his own daughters. The cycle renews.”

Doog: “Whoa, you are going to get traded away?”
Seitse: “Yes. Hopefully to another island lord. I will give him many daughters.”
Doog: “What do you mean, ‘hopefully’? Where else would you be traded?”
Seitse: “Increased peace and stability has led to overpopulation. There are more women than island lords. This profusion of women was a problem before the LIU arrived. Now, the island lords can trade away their daughters to off-worlders. Wives are now Uxores’ greatest export.”
Doog: “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why would any off-worlder want to marry you? You can’t be bio-compatible or have kids.”
Seitse: “Uxor women have unique reproductive systems that are cross-compatible with numerous species. Humans included.”
Doog: “That can’t be fun. Anyone that has to buy a wife must not be the best looking. Can you object?”
Seitse: “I could, I suppose. If I can’t be paired before my brother takes power, I might suffer worse consequences.”
Doog: “What could be worse than marrying an ugly alien jerk?”
Seitse: “Death.”
Doog: “Hmm. Fair enough.”
Seitse: “Enough of the depressing talk. Time to meet my parents.”

Seitse: “This is my father, Aed Isand, son of Rahu, distant heir of Kahreem. Aed has ruled this island for forty years. He has sired eighteen daughters, including Neli, who was wed to the island lord of Nahk. He is the prosperity bearer and anchor of clan Isand. Oh, and this is my mother, Kandja. Hi Mom!”
Doog: “How come this guy gets the long introduction and titles? Your mom’s the true hero popping out eighteen children. Oh…I mean…hello there! Thanks for having me!”
Kandja: “Who is this man, Seitse?”
Seitse: “This is the guy from the LIU TV channel. You told me to show him around.”
Kandja: “I remember now. I haven’t slept much since Kahek was born. Welcome LIU man.”

Aed: “Another LIU man. So how many wives are you here for, Kerjus?!”
Doog: “Uh…none. Just here for the…”
Aed: “Jama! All LIU man want wives. Everyone else trade. LIU man want free wives.”
Doog: “I’m not looking to settle down right…”
Aed: “Fine. Take her. Seitse is your wife now. Begone from my chamber!”

Doog: “Did that really just happen? Did I just get married?”
Seitse: “You can decline, if you wish.”
Doog: “I think I kind of did. Wait, why are you looking all mad now?”
Seitse: “If you decline his offer, he will think I am flawed. He will not offer me to anyone else. Marrying you isn’t my dream, but it is better than death.”
Doog: “I’m in a bind here. I don’t want you to die, but I can’t marry you.”

Seitse: “Fine. Death it is. Hopefully, I still have many years before my brother is born and reaches maturity. I might have fifteen or twenty more summers to live. I may see my forties. That is a long life.”
Doog: “This is going to be the most awkward tour of all time.”

Seitse: “This is Nadal, our island neighbors. It is ruled by Kala Jumal. He took a wife three summers ago. There will be no one here to wed for many, many summers. I will be dead by then.”
Doog: “Is this a tour or guilt trip?”
Seitse: “Both.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Seitse: “Nadal sits in the shallowest part of the world sea. They have access to sea life that the deep-water islands can’t support, like crabs and clams. They trade us these resources for our fruits.”
Doog: “And they fish naked. Wow.”

Seitse: “Do you find them more appealing? Perhaps you would accept their father’s offer?”
Doog: “No! Of course, I wouldn’t. My rejection has nothing to do with you. You are not flawed. I just don’t want to get married.”
Seitse: “That’s what you say, but my father will not understand.”

Seitse: “This is Turul Island, ruled by Ori Naine. He has taken three wives, more than a usual lord. I doubt he would take more. I have no chance here.”
Doog: “Are we guilt tripping to all fifty-seven islands? I don’t think I can do this. I might just drown myself.”
Seitse: “No, this is our final destination, the marketplace.”

Doog: “A marketplace?”
Seitse: “Turul lacks natural resources. They have no fruits or clams or minerals. The one advantage Turul has, is its location in the center of the archipelago. Turul created a large marketplace where the inhabitants of the various islands can meet for trade.”
Doog: “Do they get a portion of the trades? How do they feed themselves?”
Seitse: “They collect a fee for the right to trade here.”
Doog: “That’s enough to support this clan?”
Seitse: “They barely scraped by for decades. Turul was once the poorest island. Many islands chose to trade among their closest neighbors, instead of the marketplace. Their poverty did not last. New wares revitalized the marketplace, and Turul has climbed to the top.”
Doog: “New wares? Oh…you mean wife trade.”

Seitse: “Yes. Island Lords bring their surplus of daughters to Turul to be purchased. Bidders from across the galaxy come here to purchase them.”
Doog: “Again, I’m not on the market, but what does a typical wife go for?”
Seitse: “It depends on the daily demand, but most sell for a few thousand credits.”
Doog: “Yikes. Too rich for my blood. I pay for women on occasion, but never that much and never to keep permanently.”
Seitse: “Yet, you’ve been gifted a woman, for free, and you decline.”
Doog: “OK, ok, it’s not the price. It’s the permanence of the arrangement. I can’t commit to something that long.”

Seitse: “Being sold to off-worlders is no woman’s dream, but it’s even worse if you get sold to the wrong person. Not everyone is looking for actual wives. Some use Uxor women in breeding mills, prostitution rings, and even...
Slaver: “Ooh, fine specimen. Skeletal-muscular system looks sturdy. Long arms. Lacks hand calluses though. She will blister up the first few months. I won’t bid more than five-hundred.”
Seitse: “…as slaves.”
Doog: “Get out of here, creepy slaver guy! She’s not for sale!”
Seitse: “It’s honorable that you come to my defense, but this is likely my future. This or death. I’m not sure which is the better option.”
Doog: “I…uh…I…”

Seitse: “Are you ok? You haven’t said a word since we left Turul.”
Doog: “I can’t let you die. I can’t let you become a slave or a breeder. I can’t marry you either. We are in a terrible situation. I don’t know what to do…”
Seitse: “Is it that terrible for you? Regardless of your decision, you are still leaving here. It’s only terrible for me. Unless having a wife is equal to dying or being a slave.”
Doog: “Well……never mind. I’m not going there. FINE. We’re married.”
Seitse: “Thank you, Doog. I mean…husband.”

Doog: “Well folks, Uxores is a place. A place with wives. I have a wife. Seitse is off the market now, literally. Did I mention I got married? I guess this is the end. I’d like to say goodbye to Candy and Fantasy. If you girls are watching, I won’t be coming to see you anymore. I’m married. My bachelor days are over. Oh well, see ya.”
 
 
Note:

Mike: “Hey, Doog is back. And…he’s not alone. Are you under arrest by the locals again?”
Doog: “No, it’s worse. I’m married.”
Amaya: “Married!?”
Doog: “Well, I haven’t signed anything yet or, you know, consummated the marriage, but yeah, I’m married.”
Amaya: “How?”
Doog: “It’s a long story, but I was gifted Seitse because her dad thought I was a representative of the LIU. I couldn’t turn it down or Seitse risked being killed or enslaved.”
Mike: “Is there anymore wives needing saved? I want one!”

Amaya: “Doog and Mike! I’m ashamed of you! Come here, Seitse, you poor thing. You don’t have to marry Doog or die. You can come with us. We’ll figure out something to do with you.”
Seitse: “Thank you. I was not looking forward to the consummation part.”
Doog: “Oh really. That’s how it’s going to be? Insulting the man that almost threw away his bachelor lifestyle to save your life?”
Amaya: “Oh wow, what a sacrifice!”
Seitse: “No, he’s right. Thank you, Doog.”
Doog: “You’re welcome. Now, let’s talk bathroom schedule. We’re going to need to change some things around…again.”

​The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU Galaxy, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


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

Doog: “Welcome to the season finale of Season 10 of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’ll be visiting the mysterious planet, Speculum. Speculum is a Deep Core world near the galactic center. It has no noteworthy economy, but it still remains an important planet in the LIU Galaxy. We’re here to find out why. Let’s head down.”

Doog: “Alright, we’re on the surface. I have to say, Speculum is a colorful world. Well, it’s colorful if you’re into the red end of the spectrum. Everything is orange, red, orangish red, and reddish orange. Maybe a little orangish, reddish, yellow. I don’t know. It probably has something to due with the wavelength of the sunlight.”

​Doog: “There’s a variety of plant life here. These tall orange plants are particularly interesting. They seem to be covered in thorns. I can totally see myself getting my face impaled touring this world.”

Quaesitor: “That would be more troublesome than your imagining. Spinam thorns are covered in a skin irritant.”
Doog: “Oh. Great. Poison thorns and an Encyclopedian. Can today get worse?”
Quaesitor: “You have a problem with my people?”
Doog: “Not necessarily a problem. You guys just have some annoying habits, especially when you introduce yourselves.”
Quaesitor: “Speaking of introductions, I’m Quaesitor, Scion of Nabu…”
Doog: “Here we go…”
Quaesitor: “…Time Geologist, Speculum Historian…”
Doog: “Please make it stop…”
Quaesitor: “…and Third Grade Spelling Bee Champion.”
Doog: “Do you guys always have to list all your titles?”
Quaesitor: “A description of my accomplishments lends credibility to my future teachings. You can trust that I know what I’m talking about.”
Doog: “You can tell me anything, regardless of credibility. I don’t care if any of it is right. I just want this season to end, so I can get a few weeks off.”

Quaesitor: “That’s not a very scholarly attitude.”
Doog: “I’m not a very scholarly person, so I’m fine with that. I do want to hear a bit more about these poison thorn poles, though. I didn’t realize how many there are. They’re everywhere.”
Quaesitor: “Spinam are now the dominant species on Speculum. They are quite abundant.”
Doog: “Which means my chances of getting poked by one are abundant.”
Quaesitor: “Stick to the path and you’ll be fine. A few pricks here or there won’t hurt you too much. You might get a rash or get itchy.”
Doog: “There is only one way I like getting itchy rashes, and it isn’t getting poked by thorns. It’s usually me doing the poking.”
Quaesitor: “I could have done without that knowledge…and visual.”

Quaesitor: “Spinam thorns may be an annoyance, but they were once necessary. They protected the plant until it bloomed.”
Doog: “Wait. These tall red flowers are Spinam?”
Quaesitor: “Yes. When Spinam reach maturity, they shed their thorns and open into these beautiful red flowers.”
Doog: “Hmm, these ugly spike-poles actually grow up into something nice.”
Quaesitor: “Spinam are a highly successful species. They have spread all across the planet. There’s nothing to keep them in check now.”
Doog: “What do you mean ‘now’? What happened?”
Quaesitor: “The primary predators of the Spinam seem to have gone extinct. That’s part of my studies, here.”

Doog: “What about the freaky creatures over there? Can’t they help keep the Spinam under control?”
Quaesitor: “Those are Speculi Lice. They feed on the nectar of the Spinam, not the plant. Their numbers have increased greatly as well.”
Doog: “Itchy rashes and lice. This planet is turning out to be like the brothel on Camana IV.”
Quaesitor: “Uh…anyway…the proliferation of both the lice and the Spinam were indicators that a predator species had gone instinct, but there is even more evidence. Follow me.”   

Doog: “Whoa. Is that some type of structure?”

Quaesitor: “It is. It’s a tomb.”
Doog: “A tomb? Built by who?”
Quaesitor: “An extinct sentient race. We call them the Speculi.”
Doog: “Are there dead Speculi inside?”
Quaesitor: “Actually, there’s another extinct species buried inside.”
Doog: “Another species?”
Quaesitor: “Yes. Let’s head inside.”

Doog: “Wow. This really opens up. Whoa, what am I looking at here?”

Quaesitor: “The remains of the Speculi Serpent…well, the upper half anyway.”
Doog: “It’s huge. Look at those teeth!”
Quaesitor: “Yes. We believe the serpents ate Spinam. The teeth are perfect for cutting through the Spinam’s tough skin.”
Doog: “Snakes don’t eat plants, do they?”
Quaesitor: “It’s not a snake, although it looks like one.”

Doog: “Why would a sentient species immortalize vegetarian serpents?”
Quaesitor: “That’s a good question. A question that we haven’t fully answered. We have some theories, though.”
Doog: “I’m listening.”
Quaesitor: “The Speculi Race preyed upon the serpents. It appears that the serpents were their only source of food. As the number of Speculi grew, the serpents may have become rarer. The rare serpents were eventually deified. Tombs were built in their honor in hopes that their numbers would rise. It appears that day never came. The serpents were hunted to extinction. Without a food source, the Speculi also became extinct.”
Doog: “A plausible theory. I can attest that I put eating before all else…even existence.”
Quaesitor: “Yes. It’s difficult to tell though. There are several factors that may have led to both species’ extinction. Reproductive rates, environmental declines, and warfare over the few remaining serpents are just a few examples. Luckily, we made a discovery here that has led to many answers. Soon, we may know with full certainty the fate of these two species.”
Doog: “How so?”
Quaesitor: “Follow me into this side chamber.”

Doog: “What’s this? A glowing rock? A crystal wall?”
Quaesitor: “It’s another monument left by the Speculi. It’s a slab of time stone.”
Doog: “Time stone?”
Quaesitor: “Time stone is a rare crystalline glass. Its atomic structure acts as a series of mirrors, reflecting and bouncing around the light that enters it. Depending on the thickness of the stone, this light can be held inside the stone for centuries before emerging on the other side. Essentially, the light you see exiting the stone is ancient. It’s a glimpse into the past. A window into time.”

Doog: “Whoa, cool. I can see an image on this side. What is that?”
Quaesitor: “An image of a serpent. It appears the Speculi discovered the properties of time stone. They either knew the stone would capture the image of a serpent or they found a stone that already had the image of a serpent. It’s hard to say.”
Doog: “Interesting.”
Quaesitor: “Very. After the discovery of time stones in the tomb, we realized that we could recover more information about the serpents and the Speculi if we found more stones.”
Doog: “Did you find more?”
Quaesitor: “We did. Follow me.”

Quaesitor: “My studies are aided by the Meditor Institute. They have several facilities here.”
Doog: “Ah, I’ve heard of the Meditor Institute. They’re the research division within the LIU that studies extinct cultures. I believe they are more commonly known as the Nerditor Institute.”
Quaesitor: “Derogatory remarks aside, their help has been invaluable. Their technology makes my studies easier.”

Quaesitor: “This is the image recovery lab. Scientist take samples of the time stone and recover its contents. We’ve been able to pull some amazing footage from the past.”
Doog: “Sounds like a good time to slap up some found footage on the screen and give me a break.”

Quaesitor: “This first image was taken from the time stone in the serpent tomb. It’s an image of a serpent emerging from its burrow. This recovery from the time stone allows us to learn stuff about the serpent that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. For instance, we can see what it looked like.”
Doog: “Red, like everything else on this planet.”
Quaesitor: “Yes, but we wouldn’t have known it had black eyes and a blue tongue. We have images of it entering and leaving this hole, indicating that it lived in an underground burrow. We’ve also captured images of it eating Spinam, confirming our herbivore theory.”
Doog: “I’m disappointed, vegetarian snake.”

Quaesitor: “This one is even more amazing. We have footage recovered from a time stone on the Spenneti Plains that shows the Speculi.”
Doog: “That’s them, huh? It ruins my theory that they were abducted from this world to star in beauty pageants. Yikes.”
Quaesitor: “They do not conform to your species’ beauty standards or my own, but who are we to judge. Perhaps their species found these individuals to be highly attractive. That’s not important, though. This footage shows us that the Speculi possessed tools and weapons. They had elaborate clothing adorned in art. We haven’t found any structures other than the tombs, so the Speculi were probably nomadic. It makes sense, especially as the serpents became more uncommon.”

Quaesitor: “We have also found footage that confirms that the Speculi hunted serpents. Kills like this might have fed a clan for weeks.”
Doog: “Ok, that’s a little graphic. Speaking of graphic, have any time stones captured any Speculi mating. Asking for science’s sake.”
Quaesitor: “Not yet, but we have tons of stones to process. It is possible that we have collected whole life cycles of the species here, but it will take time to sort through it all.”
Doog: “So, no on the ancient Speculi pornography. Got it. Well, is there anything else?”
Quaesitor: “There is one more thing.”

Quaesitor: “As interesting as it has been to learn about an extinct culture, time stones might have better uses.”
Doog: “Like what?”
Quaesitor: “If you cut it thin enough, you could capture scenery for a few years and sell people paintings of actual moving scenery. The seasons would change, and you could see animals moving about. You could have scenes of deceased loved ones still moving about in their homes. There are also data storage possibilities. However, these are things that time glass might be used for in the future. The time stones down here still have a role to play in the past.”
Doog: “The scenery thing sounds cool, but not the dead loved one thing. That might be creepy.”

Doog: “Ooh, sparkly time rocks.”
Quaesitor: “The thicker the stone, the longer it takes light to pass through it. Large deposits like this are releasing light that is billions of years old.”
Doog: “These aren’t sparkles, are they? I’m looking at stars.”
Quaesitor: “Yes, it is stars. It is light captured in a much younger galaxy. This deposit seems to have formed in space, perhaps during a supernova. It is releasing images from when the LIU galaxy was being formed.”
Doog: “Wow, that’s awesome.”

Quaesitor: “It appears this massive deposit of time stone crashed into Speculum when it was still a protoplanet. Some shards remained on the surface, but larger chunks like this were buried below ground.”
Doog: “I could sit here all day and watch the galaxy forming.”
Quaesitor: “You’d need a few billion years to see it play out, but go for it.”
Doog: “Uh, actually, I might not have time for that. A glimpse was good enough.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Speculum. There are weird spiky plants that turn into flowers and lice that eat them. There used to be serpents and sentient beings, but they’ve gone extinct. Luckily, there’s this cool stuff called time stone that allows researchers to go back and rediscover the extinct species and their culture. Better yet, there’s larger chunks of time stone below ground that have images of the creation of the galaxy. Best yet, Season 10 is now a wrap! Time for a few weeks off! See ya!”

​ 
Note:

Quaesitor: “You can’t take that stone with you.”
Doog: “Don’t worry. I’m not taking it. I’m just capturing my face to some lucky fellow can see this handsome mug a hundred years from now!

Doog: “Welcome to another special edition episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Obtorqueo. Obtorqueo is a Mid-Rim world with a mixed economy. They deal in both agricultural and industrial products. Keeping in the tradition of past special edition episodes, we won’t be focusing on Obtorqueo’s economy, just some of its culture. Let’s head down to the planet’s capital, Optorque, and check it out.”

Mike: “Optorqueo, the smallest 'big-city' in the galaxy.”
Amaya: “Can you sound any more like a tourist? No one calls it Optorqueo. This is O-Town.”
Doog: “I knew this girl once. She always brought me to O-Town.”
Amaya: “You’ve been here before?”
Doog: “Wait, never mind. That was OOhhh-Town.”
Amaya: “Oh geez. I stepped right into that one.”
Oldie: “Don’t make this mini-vacation weird, Doog. We don’t get many of these.”
Doog: “This is a vacation?”
Amaya: “Way to ruin the surprise, Oldie.”
Oldie: “Oh, oops. Forgot that part.”
Amaya: “So, I lined up a buyer for that Bhuruu we scored on Formidabant. Hugo’s meeting them in the shipyard. While he’s working on that, I figured we’d hang out in the city and call it a mini-vacation.”
Doog: “Sweet. What does O-Town have to offer?”

Amaya: “O-Town has everything, but I had something special in mind. It’s the planet’s favorite pastime.”
Doog: “Please be brothels. Please be brothels.”
Oldie: “Nope! It’s Thunder Ball!”
Amaya: “Wow, you’re not letting me reveal any surprises today.”
Oldie: “Sorry, again. I do love me some Thunder Ball, though.”
Doog: “What the heck is Thunder Ball?”
Amaya: “It’s sort of a variation of bowling. There’s fewer pins, tear-drop shaped balls, and lots more fun.”
Doog: “That doesn’t help. What is bowling?”

Amaya: “It’s pretty simple. You roll this ball down the lane and try to knock over as many pins as possible. Unlike bowling, you only get one toss. Four pins down are called a Caboodle. Three pins are trips. Two pins equal a halfsies. One pin is called a solo.”
Oldie: “Don’t forget ‘no pins down’. Doog needs to know that one.”
Doog: “Yeah right!”
Amaya: “I’m sure no one will need it, but no pins is a Zip.”
Cam: “With a ball this size, it has to be hard to miss.”
Doog: “All you fools are going down! I’m about to make it rain Caboodles in here!”
Amaya: “Actually, Thunder Ball is best played in teams. Looks like we have enough for a three versus three.”
Doog: “I amend my previous statement. Three of you are going down!”

Mike: “What are teams going to be?”
Doog: “I’ll be with anyone but Timbo.”
Amaya: “That settles it then. Doog and Timbo are captains. You guys pick teams.”
Doog: “Ooh! Ooh! I pick first! I have to go with the muscle. I choose Cam.”
Mike: “Uh…I guess I’m next, being the next strongest.”
Timbo: “Actually, I choose Amaya.”
Mike: “I…uh…yeah.”
Doog: “Mike or Oldie. We’re really at the bottom of the barrel now. I guess I’ll go with the younger option. Mike, get over here.”
Mike: “Did you really have to think that long? Hello, best friend here.”
Doog: “I want to win, Mike. Nothing personal.”
Oldie: “So, I’m last picked again. What’s new?”

Doog: “You guys are going down! You have a girl, a geezer, and a Timbo on your squad!”
Amaya: “If you’re so confident, let’s make this interesting.”
Doog: “What are you thinking? Money?”
Amaya: “No. Something better. Winner gets dinner and drinks at the nearby pizzeria, on me.”
Mike: “Wait, you wouldn’t win either way. You’d still have to pay if you win or lose.”
Amaya: “I get pizza if I win. Besides, that’s not all. This isn’t about winning. It’s about not losing. The losers need to be punished. The losers…have to clean the bathroom on our ship.”
Mike: “Yikes. Those stakes are high.”
Oldie: “Are you too scared?”
Mike: “No, it’s just that…the bathroom is…
Doog: “We’ll do it!”
Amaya: “Let’s get started. Doog, you’re up first.”

​
Doog – 1st Toss

Doog: “Uh…that was embarrassing. I forgot to let go of the ball. I think that might be important. So, how many points is a faceplant?”
Oldie: “That’s a zip!”
Doog: “Zip sounds fair. At least we’re not losing after my turn.”
Mike: “That’s because you went first.”
Doog: “So, it’s still true.”

 
Timbo – 1st Toss

Timbo: “Not to brag, but I won the Thunder Cup at my high school.”
Doog: “I bet that got you all the ladies.”
Timbo: “It got me more ladies than faceplants did.”
Doog: “Yeah, well…uh, are you going to toss or what?”
Mike: “No comeback for that one, huh?”

Timbo: “Caboodle!”
 

Cam – 1st Toss

Cam: “Whoa. My release point is way off.”
Doog: “Dear Emperor, you about broke the lane!”
Mike: “Toss is just a misnomer. You’re supposed to roll it.”
Cam: “I know. I know.”
Oldie: “Zip!”
 
​
Amaya – 1st Toss

Amaya: “Just a tip, it’s all about the spin. Flick your wrist on release. Also, remember to release. That last part is for Doog.”
Doog: “Oh, you’re some sort of expert?”
Amaya: “I may have dabbled...for four years...while on my Universities Thunder Ball Team."

Amaya: “Spinlicious!”
Oldie: “We’re racking up the Caboodles!”
​
 
Mike – 1st Toss

Oldie: “Gutterball!”
Mike: “Hmm. I’m kind of proud that I had the least embarrassing Zip on our team.”

Doog: “Whoa, where did you get that ball?”
Oldie: “What? Lucille, here? I had my ball shipped from home.”
Doog: “You have a Thunder Ball?”
Oldie: “Well, yeah. I used to play in a league. I’ve told you guys a million times.”
Mike: “I know I don’t always listen when you talk, but I’ve never heard anything about Thunder Ball.”
Doog: “There’s only one type of thunder we associate with you, Oldie, and that’s sleep thunder.”
Amaya: “Sleep thunder?”
Cam: “Oldie farts a lot in his sleep.”
Amaya: “I shouldn’t have asked.”
​
 
Oldie – 1st Toss

Oldie: “Maybe I didn’t tell you about the league. Maybe I kept that information secret for just such an occasion. Maybe I’m sick of being picked last.”
Cam: “Oh crap. Oldie’s a ringer.”
Mike: “He has his own special ball.”
Doog: “And a special tossing glove!”
Cam: “We’re done for.”

Oldie: “Welcome to Caboodle Town, population Oldie!”
Doog: “So, they got the early lead. Big deal. We know what we’re doing now. It’s time for a comeback.”
 
​
Doog – 2nd Toss

Doog: “Oof. Oh, not again!”
Oldie: “Haha.”
Doog: “Why can’t I let go? Why won’t my hands listen to me?”
Mike: “Years of clenching that microphone have rendered your hands useless.”
Cam: “I hope those hands of yours can holding cleaning supplies because we’re are going to lose badly.”
 
​
Several Rounds Later…

Cam: “This was a thorough beat down.”
Mike: “I think the mercy rule should have been enacted after round three.”
Doog: “Something is not right on here. I know Cam got at least two pins.”
Amaya: “Cam knocked over two pins on the adjacent lane.”
Doog: “That doesn’t count?”
Amaya: “Uh, no.”
Doog: “And, you’re sure there’s no points for gutterballs and faceplants.”
Oldie: “No points, but it will get you into the Hall of Shame!”
Doog: “And you still won’t give Cam another toss? I mean the ceiling tiles clearly interfered with his toss in round four.”
Mike: “Doog. It doesn’t matter. We lost.”
Doog: “Sigh.”
Amaya: “Not too bad for a girl, a geezer, and a Timbo.”
Oldie: “Yeah, while we’re eating pizza, you can eat your words.”

Timbo: “That was too easy.”
Amaya: “I told you that’s how the teams would unfold, if Doog picked first.”
Oldie: “We played those suckers good. Did you see their faces when I brought out Lucille?”
Amaya: “That was classic. You know though, I thought they’d be a little better competition. It almost wasn’t fun.”
Oldie: “Speak for yourself. Anyone want a slice of pony pizza?”
Amaya: “Nah, I’ll stick with Kaadu sausage.”

Cam: “We’re all delaying the inevitable.”
Mike: “What? Facing up to the fact that we got hammered today.”
Cam. “No. You know what I’m talking about.”
Mike: “I have no idea.”
Cam: “We all ran in here to clean the least gross stuff. Everyone is avoiding the toilet. Look at Doog. He’s polishing some random wall.”
Doog: “I happen to like extremely clean walls.”
Cam: “Yeah…sure.”
Doog: “This spot is going to take me all afternoon. Someone else better grab the toilet.”
 

 
Note: Winning the O-Town Open is considered the pinnacle of Thunder Ball. Sixty-four of the galaxy’s top teams converge on Obtorqueo every year for a chance at the title. Thunder Ball has several variations on other worlds, including a one-pin variation popular on Tressis.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the frozen world of Praeuro. Praeuro sits far from its parent star, making it cold and dim. Despite these setbacks, the planet still offers some economic opportunities. Most of these opportunities involve mining exotic ice. Let’s head down and check it out.”

Doog: “Alright folks. I’ve been dropped off on some type of loading platform. It is colder than I thought. The suit I’m wearing contains artificial heating conduits that keep my core warm. They don’t do much for my face though. I’ll certainly be thawing the ice out of my beard at the end of this episode. Speaking of ice, the surface of Praeuro is covered in it. It’s not the type of ice I’m accustomed to. It’s not white, for starters. Instead, it is various shades of violet. This must be the exotic ice that is being mined.”
Albert: “Come over here by the heater, and I’ll tell you about the ice.”

Doog: “You had me at heater.”
Albert: “It’s too cold to discuss exotic ices in the wide-open. I’m Albert, by the way. I’ll be your guide while you’re on Praeuro.”
Doog: “You’re already doing great work. Guiding me to this heater was amazing.”
Albert: “The cold can be a nuisance, but you start to appreciate it when dealing with acidic ices. Heat is our enemy.”
Doog: “This ice is frozen acid?”
Albert: “Yes and no. It’s difficult to explain, but I’ll try to keep it simple. When the planet was warmer, it was covered in a sea of hydroiodic acid. It even rained hydroiodic acid.  As the planet migrated outward, the sea began to freeze and the acid rain turned to acid snow.”
Doog: “I’m following so far.”
Albert: “Hydroiodic acid is just hydrogen iodide dissolved into water. When it freezes, it crystalizes separately. There’s water ice and hydrogen iodide ice.”
Doog: “So, while frozen, it’s no longer an acid.”
Albert: “Yes. There’s another thing that helps too. Over the years, a lot of the water ice has sublimated leaving pure hydrogen iodide.”

Albert: “The company I work for, Kupisa, mines hydrogen iodide ice and ships it out to the rest of the galaxy.”
Doog: “Mining this stuff must be dangerous. If I’m understanding everything correctly, you don’t want this stuff to melt back into acid.”
Albert: “There’s certainly a risk. There is some water ice remaining. If it were to thaw and reform with the hydrogen iodide, it could be bad. Hydroiodic acid has a pH lower than zero. It’s quite reactive. Oh, and let’s not forget another factor, the reintroduction of water into the system from outside sources. Warm sweat or saliva can melt and reactivate the acid. Burns could happen from little mistakes like that.”
Doog: “Oh great. Send the fat sweaty guy to tour the acid-ice world.”

Doog: “I guess it can’t be too bad. There’s people skiing around on it.”
Albert: “The surface it almost perfectly safe. Water sublimates much easier on the surface where Praeuro’s weak sun has an effect. The risk of acid burns up here is almost zero. It’s just a safe as being inside the facility. However, it is warmer inside, so let’s head in for a bit.”
Doog: “I won’t argue with that.”

Doog: “It’s warmer, but I don’t know about safer. Who are these creepy guys?”
Albert: “They’re Zvacaipa, an imported alien race. They have resistance to both cold temperatures and acid burns. They’re perfect laborers for this situation. The LIU brought thousands of them here to work the mines.”
Doog: “The LIU needs a better dental plan…yikes!”
Albert: “Ahem. The Zvacaipa primarily speak Presciant, but they can understand a good deal of basic. You might want to watch what you say.”
Doog: “Well, I don’t want to watch what they’re saying. Not with teeth like those!”
Albert: “Uhh…let’s move on.”

Albert: “Hydrogen iodide ice has many uses. The most obvious is to make hydroiodic acid. In a tightly controlled environment, hydrogen iodide is melted and re-dissolved into water.”
Doog: “What is the acid used for?”
Albert: “It’s mostly used as a reducing agent and as a catalyst for the production of other materials.”
Doog: “Reducing agent, huh? Would it work on my waistline?”
Albert: “It would reduce it alright. Not in the way you’re imaging. It would be a lot more painful.”

Doog: “You said many uses. What else is it good for?”
Albert: “Other than making acid, hydrogen iodide ice is primarily used to make iodine. When melted into a gas, hydrogen iodide easily reacts with oxygen, producing water and iodine.”
Doog: “Iodine. I guess that’s good. Remind me why?”
Albert: “It’s an antiseptic and an essential biological compound. It’s used to make various dyes and pigments. It’s used in cloud seeding. It’s…”
Doog: “Ok. Ok. Lot’s of stuff. Let’s move on.”

Albert: “Shipping hydrogen iodide ice off-world isn’t easy.”
Doog: “Why is that?”
Albert: “Well, it needs to stay frozen. Otherwise, it becomes the reactive gas we’ve been talking about all afternoon.”
Doog: “Oh yeah. The whole ‘acid’ thing. I remember now.”
Albert: “I would hope so. Anyway, we also need to make sure that doesn’t get wet. If it gets exposed to water…”
Doog: “…we’re in the acid situation again.”
Albert: “You’re catching on.”

Albert: “Specifically designed shipping containers keep the ice cold and dry. There are multiple layers of protection too. We always keep our customers’ safety in mind. Kupisa, we do acid right.”
Doog: “Yeah, ok. Are we making a show or a commercial?”
Albert: “Sorry.  I thought a harmless plug wouldn’t hurt.”
Doog: “Well, it does hurt. LIU Atlas is an educational show, not an infomercial. I’m thinking about the youth. We’re enhancing minds, not selling products. That reminds me, I’d like to thanks our sponsors, TV2 and Bulla Shipping. Bulla Shipping, we bring the Grex Cluster to you!”
Albert: “Hey! That’s the same thing I just did.”
Doog: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s move on.”

Albert: “I figured we’d check out some of the mining operations next. That is, if you’re sure you can handle a modified hoverbike.”
Doog: “I’ve handled a hoverbike a few times…and only crashed once. This should be even easier with these front skis.”

Albert: “The skis do add stability on this terrain. Keep in mind that it might take longer to stop, though.”
Doog: “Oh, I plan on taking it extra slow out there. I imagine fiery crashes on the acid ice don’t feel great. It is safe to be on this ice, right?”
Albert: “Yep. Like I mentioned before. Sublimation has removed all the water from the surface layers of the ice crust. No solvent means no acid.”
Doog: “What are we waiting for then?”

Doog: “Feel free to ride in front of me. I might get some warmth from your thruster.”
Albert: “That wouldn’t be wise. To experience any warmth from these thrusters, you’d have to ride right on my rear. If I stop too quick, you won’t be able to react in time.”
Doog: “The risk of a catastrophic crash might be worth it if it saves my face from freezing off.”
Albert: “The mine entrance isn’t far. You’ll be fine.”

Albert: “See. It wasn’t that bad.”
Doog: “Do I have a face still? It doesn’t feel like it.”
Albert: “Your face is fine. Let’s head inside.”
Doog: “N-n-no arguments here.”

Doog: “This is the entrance to the mine? How do you fit stuff down here?”
Albert: “It’s a ventilation shaft actually. The mine chamber extends for miles. The true entrance is miles from here. If you’re up for another ride, we can see it too.”
Doog: “Nope. This will do.”

Doog: “It’s less windy, but still freezing down here.”
Albert: “Yes. Luckily for us.”
Doog: “Luckily? You like freezing half to death.”
Albert: “Ahem. The acidic ice.”
Doog: “Ah, yes. I keep forgetting about that.”

Doog: “Wow, it’s kind of beautiful down here.”
Albert: “Yeah, I guess it is. I’ve never really taken in all in. I usually too concerned with the acid.”
Doog: “But, it’s safe, right? It’s cold and the water is all gone.”
Albert: “Yes, it is cold, but far less water has sublimated from these depths. Little sunlight penetrates this deep.”
Doog: “So, there’s still a chance it could melt into acid.”
Albert: “Exactly.”
Doog: “But it’s cold enough that it won’t melt.”
Albert: “It’s much too cold, even with these heaters, for the ice to melt naturally. However, the process of extracting the ice creates significant heat.”
Doog: “Is that what that machine is doing? Extracting?”

Albert: “No. That’s a Sublimator Mech. It’s actually used to remove more of the moisture from the ice. Hydrogen iodide ice then hand extracted. It’s safer that way.”
Doog: “I wouldn’t want that job.”
Albert: “Me neither. That’s why we brought in these Zvacaipa guys. They’re slightly resistant to this type of acid. Although, they’ll still experience a few burns each shift.”
Doog: “Alright, the acid ice is getting me nervous now. Nervousness means sweating. Sweating not good on acid ice.”
Albert: “No, it’s not. Let’s start heading out.”

Doog: “Well folks, Praeuro is an interesting, but terrifying place. The planet is covered in acidic ice. It’s mostly safe, as long as it stays frozen. However, its hard to keep things frozen when you’re mining them with cutting tools. These brave souls down here are tasked with the dangerous extraction of this ice so we can have industrial-grade acid and iodine. Oh well, I better go and get warmed up. These freezing temperatures have already given me the sniffles. See ya!”


 
Note:

Doog: “A-a-a-achooo!”
Albert: “Don’t sneeze on the ice, Doog!”

Guy: “Ahhh! My face!”
Doog: “Uh-oh, better run!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the gas giant, Umerus. Umerus is a mid-sized gas planet composed mostly of hydrogen and helium. Its orangish red coloration comes from trace amounts of ammonia, iron, and hydrocarbons in the upper atmosphere. Umerus has a habitable layer approximately 100 kilometers into its atmosphere where pressure, temperature, and radiation are all standard. This layer is oxygen deprived, so I’ll need a respirator when we head down. Which is now. Let’s go.”

Doog: “Obviously, the surface is not habitable on Umerus. You’d be crushed by atmospheric pressure way before you got there. Instead, settlers on Umerus live in little floating villages, called flight docks. This particular ‘flight dock’ is known as Equatorial East Stream North. It’s a bit of a mouthful.”

Klorha: “That’s not its name, idiot. That’s its location. This flight dock drifts on the planet’s northern equatorial stream, in an easterly direction.”
Doog: “Name, location…same difference.”
Klorha: “We’ll send help. Where are you sir? I’m at Doog. See, dummy, not that same.”
Doog: “Alright mister, cool it with the name calling. And, how did you know my name?”
Klorha: “I’m Klorha, the super-excited guy that gets to spend all day showing you around Umerus. How lucky of me!”
Doog: “I sense sarcasm there.”
Klorha: “Do you? I wasn’t sure if I laid it down thick enough. You can’t be sure when there’s nitwits on the receiving end.”
Doog: “Another tour with a Fornacin. I guess it’s my lucky day too…”

Doog: “So, you live here, on this flight dock?”
Klorha: “Of course not. There are few permanent residents here. Think of these docks as trading posts. You anchor your hoverboat here, unload your wares, and maybe grab some supplies.”
Doog: “Where do you live then? On your boat?”
Klorha: “Yes. Although, on occasion, I splurge and rent a room.”
Doog: “These flight docks have hotels too?”
Klorha: “Yeah. It’s the big building over there. Oh wait, names and locations are the same to you. It’s the building over Thomas, next to Brenda.”
Doog: “Alright, alright. You got me there. You mentioned unloading wares. May I ask what type of wares?”
Klorha: “Paratin Spice harvested from Umerusan flowers on Floating Gardenbacks.”
Doog: “What?”
Klorha: “Exactly. Maybe you should wait until we get to that part of the tour. It’s easier to understand when you see it in action. A halfwit, like you, needs all the help he can get. Let’s get on my boat.”

Doog: “Your boat seems to be lacking handrails on its loading ramp.”
Klorha: “It’s three steps. A real man doesn’t need handrails.”
Doog: “It’s three steps on a horizontal ladder. I need handrails. I’m not falling into the crushing depths.”
Klorha: “You’re too fat to fall between the rungs.”
Doog: “Indeed. But...what if I fall, do the splits, rack myself on one of the rungs, and then tip over and fall off the ladder.”
Klorha: “I would laugh myself to tears as your screams faded away into the depths.”
Doog: “Wow. Thanks, Klorha.”
Klorha: “Seriously, though, do you need help? I’m pretty sure I can muster a strong enough kick to get you across in the air, bypassing the ladder. Let me get some leverage…”
Doog: “I’m going! I’m going!”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve boarded Klorha’s hoverboat. We’ve departed Northeast West Wind Station or whatever that place was called. We’re now gliding through the gas planet’s atmosphere. We’re riding the cloud tops. Sailing the skies. Cruising the…
Klorha: “We’re using repulsor technology to ride the planet’s magnetic fields. Stop trying to make it sound all poetic and stuff.”
Doog: “That too. So, I see some fishing equipment onboard. Are we doing some sky fishing? I’ve done that before.”
Klorha: “No, nothing like that. Not really, anyway. Times have changed.”
Doog: “So, you used to sky fish?”
Klorha: “My forebearers did. Newer technology did away with the fishing portion of my job.”
Doog: “How so?”

Klorha: “Fancy probes, like this one here, track all the planet’s Gardenbacks. We know where they all are. GPS gets you to them. Geotagging tells you if they’ve been harvested yet. In the olden days, you had to drag lines for days until you snagged one.”
Doog: “You keep mentioning these Gardenbacks? What are they? Are they the ‘fish’ you harvest?”
Klorha: “You’ll see soon. We’re approaching some now.”

Doog: “Whoa. Those are Gardenbacks?”
Klorha: “Yes, dorkface. Look at them. They’re creatures with gardens growing on their backs.”
Doog: “I see that. Makes sense. Well, actually it doesn’t. Why? How? Why again?”
Klorha: “Gardenbacks are your standard gas-planet floaters. They store warm, light gasses in their bodies. It keeps them buoyant. They use their little tentacles to make some minor flightpath adjustments, but they mostly just float wherever the winds take them.”
Doog: “What do they eat?”
Klorha: “Macroscopic bacteria, called Twill. Twill also blows around in the winds.”
Doog: “That settles what a Gardenback is. Why do they have gardens on their backs, though?”
Klorha: “Their backs have lots of surface area that is always facing towards the planet’s sun. Some macroscopic bacteria found it easier to survive on this surface. Over millions of years, these bacteria evolved into more complex mosses and flowering plants. The Gardenbacks have co-evolved as well. Their backs got larger and flatter to hold more plant-life.”
Doog: “Why would having those features be better?”
Klorha: “Plant growth insulates their backs in darker colors. These darker colors absorb more heat and help hold heat in. More heat means the Gardenback can float higher and find more Twill.”
Doog: “Win-win scenario.”

Klorha: “Win-win-win scenario. It’s good for us too. Some of these plants are useful and valuable.”
Doog: “Whoa, whoa. Are you getting on its back?”
Klorha: “Well, yeah. These flowers are going to pick themselves, dummy.”
Doog: “Uh, you can get all the flowers you want. I’ll stay here.”
Klorha: “It’s perfectly stable, sissy. Get down here.”
Doog: “It’s not so much my fear of the creature, I just don’t know how many times I want to risk this handrail-free ramp.”
Klorha: “Do I need to return to my ship for a kick? I’ll do it. I swear.”

Doog: “I’m on the back. Happy now?”
Klorha: “Now that you mention it…no. I was hoping the fall into the abyss scenario came to fruition. Disappointed better describes my emotional state.”
Doog: “You still have hope, Klorha. I have to get back on the boat eventually, and I’ll have to get off it too. You still have two chances.”
Klorha: “You’ve lifted my spirits.”
Doog: “Good. Now…what are we doing here again?”
Klorha: “Harvesting flowers for spice.”
Doog: “Drug spice or flavor spice?”
Klorha: “Flavor.”
Doog: “Less exciting, but I’m fine with it. I like food.”

Klorha: “There are several species of flowers on a Gardenback, but we’re primarily interested in Umerusan Spice flowers. They’re the bright magenta ones, like this.”
Doog: “What part becomes the spice? Petals, stem, roots?”
Klorha: “The stigma.”
Doog: “The what?”
Klorha: “The stigma. It’s part of the reproductive anatomy of the plant that’s located within the flower. Wait…that might be too complicated. Stigma is sex parts.”
Doog: “Got it without the condescending summation. And the stigma makes what spice?”
Klorha: “Paratin.”
Doog: “Never heard of it.”
Klorha: “Not surprising. It’s a bold, savory spice. It adds some kick to meaty dishes. Probably too strong for someone with your dainty vegetarian tastes.”
Doog: “Hey! I can take being called stupid all day, but never call me the V-word! My favorite food group is tacos!”
Klorha: “Fair enough. I can see by your body type that I was mistaken. One does not achieve that form by solely eating plants.”
Doog: “Apology accepted…I think.”

Doog: “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of a meat enhancing spice. It must be rare.”
Klorha: “It is far from rare. Umerus is a big planet. There are billions of Gardenbacks and trillions of flowers. Paratin is widely available across the galaxy.”
Doog: “I wonder why I’ve never heard of it then.”
Klorha: “Paratin has a short shelf-life, especially after being exposed to oxygen. Its life is extended by shipping it in vacuum sealed containers, but, once it’s opened, you have limited time to use it. You won’t find it in processed or prepackaged foods.”
Doog: “That would be why I never heard of it. That’s basically all I eat.”
Klorha: “Again, your body type conveys that statement as truth.”
Doog: “Is this tour over yet?”
Klorha: “Nearly. There’s just one more thing to see…the future of Paratin farming.”

Klorha: “Umerusan Spice Flowers are notoriously hard to grow in artificial environments. They won’t even grow on floating platforms in Umerus’ atmosphere. They will only grow on Gardenbacks.”
Doog: “Not a big deal, right? You said there were billions of Gardenbacks.”
Klorha: “Yes, but the current method is not efficient. Gardenbacks can’t be tamed. They float off wherever they want. That means large amount of labor goes into locating and harvesting Gardenbacks. If the production could remain more stationary, then it would be more efficient.”
Doog: “How does one make a living creature stationary? Chain it to a pole? Make a Gardenback jail?”
Klorha: “You kill it.”
Doog: “Kill it?!”
Klorha: “Gardenback tissue retains its buoyancy even after death. If the right preservatives are used, the Gardenback can remain a viable platform for a few decades. Umeran Spice Flowers will still grow, and no one will have to go far to harvest them.”

Doog: “Wait! Is that a dead one right there?”
Klorha: “Yes. This method is being tested at the moment. They only use Gardenbacks that have succumbed to a natural death.”
Doog: “What’s with the scaffolding and building on its back?”
Klorha: “Stationary Gardenbacks must be able to support structures on its back for workers, preservation facilities, and steering equipment.”
Doog: “Steering equipment?”
Klorha: “A brain-jack connects the Gardenback’s nervous system to a steering rig. Pilots can then use the creature’s own propulsion systems to maneuver. It is used to keep the Gardenback’s movements in check.”
Doog: “It keeps it stationary.”
Klorha: “Close to it.”
Doog: “That’s creepy. People living on a dead organism.”
Klorha: “Creepy, but probably the future of Umerus. Imagine dozens of dead Gardenbacks strung together, floating lifelessly near a flight dock.”
Doog: “Oh, the things we do for more savory meats.”
Klorha: “Their sacrifice is not in vain.”

Doog: “Well folks, Umerus is gas planet with an abundance of life. There are macroscopic bacteria called Twill, massive floating creatures called Gardenbacks, and a variety of plant life. One such plant, the Umerusan Spice Flower, is used to make the spice, Paratin. This quickly spoiling spice is only found in fresh food, but I’m told it can be quite delicious. I might try it soon before it starts to be grown on dead things! Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: Gardenbacks will be euthanized with brain core incisions, leaving the body intact. This will also allow for easier brain-jack connections.