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.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, at the recommendation of our Associate Producer, we’re visiting Formidabant, another planet within the Grex Cluster. Formidabant is a wet, humid world that is mostly covered in swamps. It’s sure to be terrible, like most swampy worlds. Let’s head down and get this over with.”

Doog: “Alright, I’ve been dropped off in a small settlement on the planet’s surface. Immediately upon exiting my ship, my senses are assaulted by all the typical swamp-world characteristics. It smells like rotten vegetation, and there’s an orchestra of chirping bugs. Let’s hurry up and find my guide. I want to get off this planet as soon as possible.”

Amaya: “Don’t look too hard. I’m already here.”
Doog: “I know you’re new to this, but this is the part of the job where we only need the filming crew. Associated Producers should stay on the ship with the other non-essential personnel.”
Amaya: “I know how the show works, Doog. But, we couldn’t come up with another guide on such short notice. There’s almost no off-worlders here, and the natives don’t speak basic. So, unless you want to deal with the reptilian natives on your own, you’re stuck with me.”
Doog: “I’m not sure how being with you will make it any easier.”
Amaya: “The natives speak Presciant, so I can communicate with them.”
Doog: “Well, what are we waiting for then? It’s not smelling any better the longer we stand here.”

Amaya: “Don’t you just love marshes? There’s such a variety of plants and animals.”
Doog: “There’s stinky, stagnant pools of water covered in scum and an abundance of gnats. No, I don’t like swamps.”
Amaya: “This area is a marsh, not a swamp. Swamps have woody plants, like trees.”
Doog: “Well, Ms. Dictionary, I don’t like marshes either.”
Amaya: “To each his own, I suppose. I find the Dread Marshes beautiful.”
Doog: “Wait, did you just say ‘Dread Marshes’?”
Amaya: “Yeah, that’s what they named it.”
Doog: “Isn’t that bit unsettling? Why is it called ‘dread’? Is there something I need to know about this place?”
Amaya: “I don’t think it means anything. It’s probably just a translation error.”

Doog: “I don’t know. The natives look sort of dreadful. The little lizards could be dangerous too.”
Amaya: “Those little things are perfectly safe. They’re often kept as pets on Bulla. They only eat bugs.”
Doog: “I see you avoided talking about the natives.”
Amaya: “I’m not too knowledgeable on the natives. From what I’ve heard, they’re not too bad.”
Doog: “So, you’ve never met one?”
Amaya: “No, I was always forbidden to visit Formidabant. It’s they only inhabitable world within the cluster that I’ve never visited.”
Doog: “Maybe it is because Formidabant is home to the DREAD MARSHES! What have you gotten us into?!”

Amaya: “Quit freaking out. Formidabant can’t be that bad. My family has been exporting goods from here for decades without any issues.”
Doog: “What kind of dreadful goods are we talking about?”
Amaya: “Formidabant is famous for its abundance of medicinal herbs.”
Doog: “Sounds like hippy medicine.”
Amaya: “Far from it. The medicinal qualities of Formidabant’s plants are indisputable. There’s a variety of them too.”
Doog: “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Amaya: “Well, be prepared to have your mind changed. Let’s head into the apothecary.”
Doog: “What’s that?”

Amaya: “An apothecary is essentially a pharmacy. Here, they prepare and sell herbal medicines.”
Doog: “This stuff is medicine? It’s mostly dried up leaves and tree bark. They have stuff like this at my childhood park. I never knew I was playing in a field of medicine.”
Amaya: “The plants here are much different, I assure you.”
Doog: “How so?”
Amaya: “I’m not an expert, by any means, but I believe most of the plants here have chemical defenses to combat insect predation. These various chemicals give the plants their medicinal qualities.”
Doog: “Natural bug poison becomes medicine?”
Amaya: “Is it that hard to believe? Numerous drugs from across the galaxy are derived from antiherbivore chemicals; nicotine, caffeine, and morphine are a few examples.”
Doog: “Ooh, do we have any Formidabant style morphine in here?”
Amaya: “Not that I see.”

Apothecary: “Chii chaunoda?”
Amaya: “Bhuruu.”
Apothecary: “Kwete bhuruu. Kwete ikozvino. Tsvaka mhepo.”
Doog: “What’s going on?”
Amaya: “I’m looking for a particular type of herbal medicine, called Bhuruu.”
Doog: “Is that the morphine-like one?”
Amaya: “Sort of. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like they have any in stock right now. We’ll have to head out into the marsh to find some.”
Doog: “Wait, are we seriously trying to get some? Are we doing a show or shopping?”
Amaya: “Both. If we can score some Bhuruu while touring Formidabant, we’ll be able to sell it on the next major world we visit. We profit from the show and the Bhuruu.”
Doog: “Or, we could…maybe…try some of this Bhuruu for cultural purposes.”
Amaya: “That probably not a great idea. Bhuruu can be addictive. Besides, we don’t want to cut into our profits.” 

Amaya: “Speaking of profits, we’re going to need to hire a tracker. It won’t be cheap.”
Doog: “How about this guy? He has a big machete. That would ease my nerves as we venture through the DREAD MARSH!”
Amaya: “You still hung up on that? Iwe uchatipinza isu mumvura?”
Tracker: “Iwe unofanirwa kuripa chikwereti zana.”
Amaya: “Ndiyo mutengo mukuru. Ini ndichabhadhara chete kana tikawana bhuruu.”
Tracker: “Ndinogona kuvimbisa izvozvo. Handigoni kuvimbisa kuchengetedza kwako.”
Amaya: “Looks like we have a tracker.”

Doog: “Ugh, the ground is squishy. Why couldn’t we stay on the platforms?”
Amaya: “The LIU built little platformed settlements to make trade easier, but the platforms end at the edge of the settlement. If we’re going to experience Formidabant, we’re going to have to get our feet dirty.”
Doog: “Feet, pants, and probably underwear.”
Amaya: “Hopefully we’re not stepping in anything deep enough to reach our underwear.”
Doog: “I’m talking about soiling ourselves when we find out why this is called the Dread Marsh.”
Amaya: “The only thing I’m dreading is hearing you whine about a name all day.”
Doog: “I think it’s a legitimate concern. Things get names for a reason.”

Doog: “So, what does this Bhuruu look like? What are we looking for?”
Amaya: “Most of the medicines on Formidabant come from the leaves, bark, and stems of the planet’s plants. Bhuruu is an exception. Bhuruu is derived from the bulbous roots of Sekuru Grass.”
Doog: “Roots are underground.”
Amaya: “Yep. That’s how roots work.”
Doog: “How are we supposed to see underground roots from above ground?”
Amaya: “We’re not the ones finding Bhuruu. That’s why we have a tracker. The natives can smell these roots from kilometers away.”
Doog: “That would have been good to know. I’ve been straining my neck trying to find this stuff.”
Amaya: “You were looking for like one minute. We literally just left the settlement.”
Doog: “One minute too long.”

Doog: “I’m starting to see more and more trees. Does that mean we’re out of the marsh now?”
Amaya: “Yes. This would be considered swamp.”
Doog: “Thank the Emperor. We survived the Dread Marshes.”
Amaya: “Yeah, now we just have to survive the Dread Swamp.”
Doog: “What! This place too! What’s with the names on this planet?”
Amaya: “Shh. I think we might be in business.”

Doog: “You weren’t kidding when you said bulbous. These roots are huge.”
Amaya: “Not all Sekuru have bulbs this big, though. It takes many years to develop this girth, so only the oldest Sekuru can be harvested. It makes Bhuruu a rare commodity.”
Doog: “Rare means more profits for us.”
Amaya: “It should.”

Amaya: “Finding Sekuru is just half the battle. Extracting the Bhuruu and rendering it safe for use is a complex procedure.”
Doog: “So, it’s not safe straight out of the ground?”
Amaya: “Not at all. Bhuruu isn’t the only antiherbivore chemical in the bulb. Some of the others are extremely poisonous.”
Doog: “That’s not good.”
Amaya: “Little processing camps, like this, are positioned around major settlements. They alter the Bhuruu out here so the settlement remains safe.”

Doog: “It looks like their handling more than Sekuru. What are those green things?”
Amaya: “Those are Ambuya, a type of water grass. They’re also poisonous before being processed.”
Doog: “Should we grab some of them too?”
Amaya: “The grass of the Ambuya is used to make anti-diarrheal pills. There’s no profit there. There’s too many alternative anti-diarrheal medicines.”
Doog: “Forget the profit. Have you ever been on the ship after taco night? That might come in handy.”
Amaya: “Uh…maybe we’ll stop back at the apothecary and grab some on our way back.”

Amaya: “Most of the herbal medicines produced on Formidabant are prepared similarly. Usually, it consists of drying out the plant, grinding it into a powder, and shaping it into a pill. Bhuruu can’t be prepared in that manner.”
Doog: “Because it’s poisonous, right?”
Amaya: “Yes. But there’s other reasons too.”
Doog: “Like what?”
Amaya: “Bhuruu is an essential oil. You can’t get it from just grinding up leaves or grass. It must be pressed from the Sekuru root.”
Doog: “Wait, essential oils? Are we talking about those aromatherapy oils? The other stuff might be real medicine, but that aromatherapy stuff is definitely hippy medicine.”
Amaya: “There are, admittedly, some bogus essential oils, but Bhuruu is not one of them.”
Doog: “How can smelling something cure an illness or be like morphine? Emphasis on the latter.”

​Amaya: “Smells can elicit brain activity. When you smell good food, you might feel hunger or have your stomach growl. Some smells, like smoke or decay, can cause a fear response. Some smells, like the cologne of your absent lover, can provoke emotional responses.”
Doog: “Some smells cause hatred, like this swamp smell.”
Amaya: “So, we are in agreeance, then? Smells can change emotions, and therefore biochemistry.”
Doog: “I guess. But, even the best burger smell in the universe can’t incite morphine-like feelings in me.”
Amaya: “Maybe not, but Bhuruu can. The aroma produced when Bhuruu Oil is heated triggers the body produce endorphins. Endorphins alleviate pain and cause mild euphoria.”
Doog: “Well that’s amazing. Why are we not constantly smelling this stuff?”
Amaya: “Even though Endorphins are naturally produced, they share properties with other brain altering drugs. Addiction is likely, and withdrawal can be deadly. Remember, Bhuruu is in limited supply and cannot sustain an addiction.”

Doog: “Awesome, we got a whole cart full of this stuff. We’re going to be rich.”
Amaya: “Only four vials, but each one should fetch a thousand credits on the right world.”
Doog: “We’re wheeling four thousand credits behind us?!”
Amaya: “Don’t get too excited. They’re not giving us the Bhuruu for free. I’ll need to buy it from them first. I can probably get them all for two thousand credits.”
Doog: “That’s still two thousand more credits than we had!”
Amaya: “We’ll have to divvy up the profits accordingly, though.”
Doog: “What do you mean? There’s two of us. It’s clearly a 50/50 situation.”
Amaya: “Well, I’m fronting the money, so it’s only fair that I get half of the profits. But I think the other half should be divided up by the rest of the crew.”
Doog: “What! Why should I share with them? I’m the guy risking the Dread Marshes!”
Amaya: “Are we doing the dread-thing again?”
Doog: “OK, fine. The marsh isn’t actually dreadful. It’s probably just a stupid name.”

Creature: “Muuhhhrrr!”
Tracker: “Ngozi! Ngozi!”
Doog: “What the heck is that! What’s going on!?”
Amaya: “The natives are screaming ‘danger’. That’s all I know!”
Doog: “I think we got our answer regarding the Dread Marsh! Run!”
Amaya: “Dread Swamp! But that’s an argument for another time!”

Doog: “I might have soiled myself after a terror induced spasm. That smell is not eliciting any euphoria, let me tell you.”
Amaya: “Oh gross!”

Doog: “Well folks, the Dread Swamp is aptly named. There are massive carnivorous worms living in many of the deeper pools. Looks like we lucked out this time. Speaking of luck, we still scored four vials of Bhuruu. Bhuruu is an essential oil that alleviates pain and causes euphoria when it is smelled. It is one of many herbal medicines found here on Formidabant. Medicine and worms. That’s Formidabant. See ya!”
 
Note: Undiluted Bhuruu can cause strong endorphin reactions. It is recommended that the Bhuruu be adulterated with other oils. Only 5% to 10% of Bhuruu should be used in any mixture.   

The are billions of stars, millions of planets, but only one man, Terrance McDoogal. And two ships named Magellan.

Doog: “Welcome to another special edition episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’ll be checking out our new ship, the Magellan Mark II. Yeah, that’s right. We got a new ship. Like its predecessor, the Mk II is a Jaculan-Class Cargo Ship. It’s a much newer model than our previous ship, though, and it has several notable upgrades. One such upgrade is visible from this angle. The Mk II has a much bigger cockpit. Our pilot, Hugo, won’t have to sit alone anymore. There’s room for a co-pilot.”

​Doog: “My favorite upgrade, at least on the ship’s exterior, is the new airlock. Our previous ship lacked this feature, making in-space docking an impossibility. The airlock should allow us access to previously unavailable destinations.”

Doog: “The Magellan and Magellan Mk II have nearly identical propulsion systems. The engines have rarely been a problem for us, so I don’t mind that feature. Alright, that’s enough of the exterior. Let’s see what’s new on the inside.”

Doog: “The Mk II has two decks. This is the main deck. It’s where the living quarters are located.”

Oldie: “We have a table now! Do you guys remember tables? You eat on them.”
Mike: “Yes, Oldie, we remember tables.”
Oldie: “But this a table-table. Not a floor-table.”
Mike: “Indeed, much better. Our food will taste less like dirt and feet now.”

Cam: “Forget the table. Check out these beds. They smell new.”
Doog: “Yeah, and there’s four of them. That’s like triple our old bed count.”
Mike: “Double, not triple.”
Doog: “Who cares about the math? The point is, we have more beds.”
Mike: “Still not enough for our crew of six, though.”
Amaya: “Ahem, don’t you mean seven?”
Mike: “My bad. I keep forgetting you’re here.” 

Doog: “There’s a kitchen opposite of the beds, in between the stairs and airlock. Stairs…did we have to put those in here?”
Amaya: “How else would we get to deck two?”
Doog: “I don’t know…elevators, maybe.”
Amaya: “And lose the under-stair storage? Where else are we putting the Doog Dummy?”

Mike: “I can’t believe you guys are glossing over the fact that we have a kitchen. A kitchen with food.”
Oldie: “Food. Remember food?”
Mike: “Yes, Oldie! We remember food!”

Amaya: “There’s also two smaller rooms on the main deck, under the cockpit.”
Doog: “A bathroom to the right and a utility room to the left.”

​Doog: “The bathroom is pretty basic. It’s definitely a lot cleaner than the old Magellan.”
Amaya: “Let’s try to keep it that way. Maybe we can come up with some sort of chore assignments or cleaning schedule.”
Doog: “Maybe. The bathroom sounds like a good chore for Timbo. Speaking of schedules, we’re going to have to adjust the bathroom schedule, now that you’re here. So much for my regularity.”
Amaya: “Uh…moving on.”

Doog: “The utility room seems to be a bit of a waste. It’s essentially a closet. My spacesuit is in here, and there’s some tools and spare parts.”
Amaya: “Don’t forget the washer and dryer.”
Doog: “Is that what those box thingies are?”
Amaya: “Uh, yeah. You’ve never used a washer and dryer before?”
Doog: “Nope. I usually just toss stuff away after a few wears. Don’t look at me like that, elite girl. I bet you don’t do laundry either.”
Amaya: “I, at least, know what they are, though.”

Amaya: “Up the stairs to Deck #2.”
Doog: “Sigh, if we have to.”

Doog: “Everything is small and cramped up here.”
Amaya: “It was the only way we could fit a second deck in here.”
Doog: “So, what’s up here?”
Amaya: “You haven’t been up here yet?”
Doog: “Nope. And, given the stair situation, this will probably be my last time.”
Amaya: “Fair enough. There are two small rooms up here.”

Amaya: “The first is my bedroom.”
Doog: “So, that’s where the fifth bed is. How come you get your own bed and room? I’m the star of the show, shouldn’t this room be mine?”
Amaya: “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a woman on a ship full of guys. I need somewhere private. Besides, would you really want to take the stairs every time you wanted to go to your room?”
Doog: “Didn’t think about the stair thing. I guess it is best if you have it.”

Amaya: “The other room up here is the editing suite.”
Doog: “Timbo’s abode. It’s a good place for him, away from everyone else.”
Amaya: “It’s also where we’ll store filming equipment, so other crew members will be up here as well.”
Doog: “As long as I don’t have to be up here.”

Amaya: “Around the corner we have the fire suppression system and the cockpit.”
Doog: “Yes, let’s store the vital fire fighting system upstairs, where it is useless to me.”
Amaya: “Something tells me you’ll forget your hatred of stairs when everyone is burning alive in a fire.”
Doog: “You underestimate my hatred.”
Amaya: “Really?”
Doog: “Ok, fine. Burning alive slightly worse than stairs.”

Amaya: “Which brings us to the final stop of the tour, the cockpit.”
Doog: “Ooh, this is roomier.”
Amaya: “It might be tight, but it should hold the whole crew in the event of any emergency.”
Doog: “Don’t tell me…the Mk II has the same lifeboat feature as the old ship. The cockpit can detach and fly on its own.”
Amaya: “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
Doog: “Oh, you know, A LOT. Hugo here has abandoned us a time or two when things got rough. The feature is not so great when you’re not in the cockpit when it ejects.”
Hugo: “There wasn’t any room in the old cockpit! Besides, I’ve apologized a million times.”
Amaya: “Uh…computer?”
Computer: “Go ahead.”
Amaya: “Lock lifeboat feature. Allow unlock only when three crew members give authorization.”
Computer: “Confirmed.”
Doog: “Nice! I didn’t know you could do that. I wonder what else the computer can do?”
Amaya: “Computer, lock crew member Doog’s permissions to level 1.”
Computer: “Confirmed.”
Doog: “Hey! I want to do stuff too!”
Amaya: “I think it is safer this way.”
Doog: “Computer, lock crew member Timbo in bathroom!”
Computer: “That command is not authorized.”
Doog: “Dang it.”

Amaya: “Now that we have a dual cockpit, I want to start cross-training some of the crew on being a co-pilot. It can’t hurt to have emergency pilots. It would be nice to give Hugo a break from time to time too.”
Hugo: “Amen. I might get to leave the cockpit for longer than thirty minutes.”
Doog: “I have some piloting experience under my belt. I’d make a great co-pilot.”
Amaya: “Uh, yeah…sure you would. Too bad for those stairs though. I guess it will have to be someone else.”
Doog: “I could maybe do the stairs for something this important.”
Amaya: “I don’t know. Given your history…I think it’s safer if we give the co-pilot position to someone else.”
Doog: “Fine. I didn’t want to do the stairs anyway. Is this stupid tour over yet?”
Amaya: “Aw, don’t be sad, Doog. We’ll find you something else to do.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s the new ship. I hope you enjoyed the tour. Hopefully the Mk II will live up to its namesake. The old ship might have been smelly, dirty, and cramped, but I’ll definitely miss her. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note:

​Amaya: “Before we leave the Grex Cluster, there’s a planet I want to visit. I think it will make a good show.”
Doog: “What is it?”
Amaya: “Formidabant.”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, the crew and I are visiting the small planet of Bulla Bulla. We’re actually here to conduct some business with one of the show’s producers, but we’re going to try to make an episode here too. We’re efficient like that. Also, poor. Desperately poor. We need to make episodes anytime we can.”

Doog: “Alright, the crew and I have been dropped off in the planet’s capital and largest city. I’m sure it has a name, but I don’t know it.”
Oldie: “This is Paomo, I believe.”
Mike: “You are correct. Paomo is the capital and economic center of Bulla Bulla. About three million citizens live here, mostly off-worlders. The native Bullans only constitute about five percent of the city’s population.”
Doog: “Aren’t you just full of facts.”

Mike: “A thirty second online search told me that. I like to know things about the places I visit.”
Doog: “Not all of us have time for all your fancy research.”
Mike: “You don’t have thirty seconds to spare? Earlier today, I watched you waste six hours trying to balance your microphone on your nose.”
Doog: “Trying to set a galactic record is not a waste of time.”
Cam: “Well…considering you never kept it going more than thirty seconds, it might have been a waste.”
Doog: “Stop stepping on my dreams, Cam.”

Doog: “Well, did your extensive research turn up anything else show-worthy?”
Mike: “I wouldn’t consider a thirty second search, extensive, but I did learn that Bulla Bulla’s chief export is Bulla Berries. They’re the little blue plants you see all around.”
Doog: “Urban farming?”
Mike: “Apparently. It did say Bulla Berries are primarily grown within Paomo.”
Doog: “Well, there we go. Episode is a wrap. We’re on a planet. This planet has a city. This city has urban blueberries.”

Oldie: “I think we’re going to need more than that to consider this an episode.”
Doog: “You and your lofty standards.”
Oldie: “I don’t think it’s too much to ask to spend more than five minutes exploring a place before calling it a show. LIU Atlas is supposed to be educational.”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. Improving astronomy grades across the galaxy.”
Oldie: “Besides, I think this episode is going to have a surprise ending.”

Doog: “What’s that supposed to mean? What aren’t you telling us?”
Mike: “Nobody likes your surprises, Oldie. Remember that surprise vacation you took us on?”
Doog: “Ugh, the old folks' planet. Worst surprise ever.”
Cam: “Don’t forget that surprise he threw at us between Seasons 4 and 5.”
Doog: “Which part? The no break between seasons? Or the extragalactic trip in cargo-class?”
Oldie: “Quit whining, we’re going to miss the train.” 

Mike: “We’re meeting the producers, right? Meeting them in a good way or bad way?
Oldie: “Good, mostly…I think.”
Doog: “Mostly good. Consider my confidence inspired.”
Oldie: “Can we quit with the questions? We have more pressing issues.”
Mike: “What’s more pressing than our future?”
Oldie: “I may have forgotten where we’re going.”

Doog: “It’s the dementia. We knew this day was coming.”
Oldie: “No! It’s nothing like that. I just forgot the name of the place we’re meeting the producers…and how to get there.”
Mike: “Did we just take a train to a random place?”
Oldie: “No, I remember this part.  I know we were supposed to get off at this stop. We should be in the uptown food district. It gets a little foggy after that.”
Mike: “Sooo…what do we do now? Just randomly ask people if they’re our show’s producer?”
Doog: “There’s only like a million people around here. We’ll definitely find them by season twelve.”
Mike: “You have to remember more, Oldie.”
Oldie: “I’m trying. I’m trying. I know we’re looking for a spaceport. Let’s just find a nearby spaceport.”

Doog: “This is the third spaceport we’ve been to. This better be right. If I have to walk another step…”
Oldie: “I don’t know. It looks too little.”
Doog: “You have failed me for the last time, Oldie. I’m laying down.”
Mike: “Why are we looking for a spaceport anyway?”
Cam: “Because that’s where the producers are, duh.”
Mike: “Duh, I know that. Why are we meeting them there and not a restaurant or office building?”
Doog: “Does it even matter? We’re never going to find them. There are hundreds of little spaceports in this town. Presumably to ship out all this urban produce.”

Cam: “We should probably check this place while we’re here. I know Oldie said it’s too small, but he can’t even remember where we’re going. It’s kind of hard to say if he even remembers what size it’s supposed to be.”
Oldie: “I can’t argue with that.”

Doog: “If these guys are our producers, we’re in worse shape than I thought.”
Oldie: “Uh, hey there. Are you expecting us?”
Alien: “Anotitarisira kuita chii? Ndiwe ani?”
Guy: “He wants to know who you are? Why should he expect you?”
Cam: “Does LIU Atlas mean anything to you?”
Guy: “Not really. Is it some kind of map collection?”
Doog: “Well, this isn’t it.”
Alien: “Nguva ndiyo mari. Ibva pano. Hatitengesi mamotokari.”
Guy: “I’m in agreeance with my partner, here. We don’t have time for this. We don’t deal in maps. We do have some hovercar parts. We’re running a sale on all new parts. And by new…I mean…”

Oldie: “Wait! I remember! Sale and new! Newsale! We’re looking for Newsale Spaceport.”
Guy: “Oh, you guys are into the fancy stuff, huh? Newsale is a few blocks north of here. There are signs everywhere. Just follow them.”
Mike: “None of us read Presciant.”
Guy: “So.”
Mike: “Well, all the signs are written in Presciant. They’re useless to us.”
Guy: “So, learn Presciant then. How is this my problem?”
Alien: “Mushanyi!”
Guy: “Exactly.”
Oldie: “Well, at least we know where we’re going now. That’s start. A few blocks south, was it?”
Crew: “North!”

Mike: “Oh, thank the Emperor. This is it. Newsale Spaceport.”
Doog: “That was exhausting. I can’t feel my legs.”
Cam: “Annoying, yes. Exhausting, no. We walked around a city for like an hour. You’re just out of shape.”
Doog: “Your insults have inspired me to exercise more…said no one ever.”
Oldie: “Alright, enough with the banter. Be on your best behavior. Time to meet the producers.”

Mike: “What’s with the creepy smile, Oldie? Are you trying to impress the producers?”
Doog: “He probably forgot why we’re here again. He sees that pizza sign and thinks it a real pizza slice.”
Oldie: “Nope. I just see the future.”

Cam: “See the future? Maybe Doog was on to something. Oldie might be slipping. We might want to get him checked out.”
Doog: “Wait, there’s no rush. Let’s at least test out his new future-seeing abilities. Oldie, if you’re still in there, what’s next week’s lottery numbers.”
Oldie: “You guys seriously don’t see it yet?”
Doog: “No, we have our minds. We need you to get the lotto numbers.”
Oldie: “I was going to wait for the producers, but this is too good. May I present…”

Oldie: “…our new ship, the Magellan Mark II.”
Doog: “What! How is this possible!?”
Oldie: “Ha! You like it, huh? Old, ‘dementia-ridden’ me did something good for once, didn’t I?”
Doog: “If this is real, then, yes, you’ve redeemed yourself.”
Mike: “This is amazing, Oldie. It looks like a new and improved version of the old Magellan.”
Oldie: “Yep. This bad boy is also a converted Jaculan-Class Cargo Ship. It’s a newer model, of course. It has several notable upgrades from our old ship: dual cockpit, airlock, two decks, and get this…five beds!”
Doog: “Five!”
Cam: “No more sleeping on the floor…Do I have tears in my eyes?”
Mike: “This is the best day ever…but how did you manage this?”

Oldie: “It wasn’t too tough. I mean, I had to give into a few demands. Nothing too crazy.”
Cam: “Happy tears becoming sad tears. Oldie made a deal…”
Oldie: “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to bad. They’re not touching our salary. In fact, we should make more without the maintenance costs of the old ship.”
Doog: “Let me guess. We’re now running a ship-based bed and breakfast between episodes. The five beds are not for us. We must sleep in a closet.”
Mike: “No, I got a better one. We transport plague victims. We have five beds, but they are hospital beds. Also, we have to give sponge baths between episodes.”
Oldie: “Will you guys have a little faith in me, at least this once? Now, shut up. Here comes the producer.”

Oldie: “Hey guys, I’d like you to meet Bulla Bulla’s System Governor, Myrna Moneta, our new executive producer.”
Myrna: “Ah, the crew of LIU Atlas. Well, most of it anyway. Nice to see you in person.”
Doog: “Yeah, great to meet you. Hey, really quick, break down Bulla Bulla for us. We’re trying to make a show while we here. I bet no one can sum it up like the System Governor.”
Oldie: “Doog! Stop! This is our new boss!”
Myrna: “Now, now, Oldie. Settle down. I like efficiency. Let’s see. Bulla Bulla is in the Grex Cluster, a collection of eighteen gravitationally linked stars. Our primary export is Bulla Berries, but most of our economy revolves around trade. Bulla Bulla is the trade capital of the cluster due to its position relative to the Cibus Hyperspace Route.”
Doog: “Well folks, you heard it from the Governor herself. That’s Bulla Bulla. See ya!”
Myrna: “If you’re finished, we have some business to discuss. I have some demands before you get your new ship.”
Doog: “We’re up for anything reasonable.”
Myrna: “Well, firstly, I’m going to need a few more quality seasons. We’re edging closer to two hundred episodes, almost enough to qualify for syndication. Even with your moderate viewership, syndication of LIU Atlas will make me millions.”
Doog: “You’re guaranteeing our show more seasons? I think I speak for the crew, when I say, heck yeah.”
Myrna: “Good. My next demand might not go over as easy. Amaya, come here.”

Myrna: “This is my granddaughter, Amaya Moneta. She’ll be joining your crew as Associate Producer. She will be overseeing my interests.”
Amaya: “Hey guys!”
Doog: “Whoa, whoa. We kind of have this rule where everyone on the crew has a moustache. I don’t think Amaya qualifies.”
Amaya: “Hugo doesn’t have a moustache.”
Doog: “Doesn’t he? I don’t remember.”
Amaya: “Look, I understand your reluctance. You guys have your little boys club. I have a lot to offer though. I’m an elite citizen, so I have connections. I grew up here, so I speak and read Presciant. I know that’s something your crew lacks. Also, I’m the only way you get this new ship.”
Doog: “I’m fine with it, now that the mustache rule is a hoax.”
Cam: “Yeah, some fresh blood wouldn’t hurt.”
Mike: “This is just semantics. It’s not like we can say no. Welcome to the crew!”
Amaya: “Thanks.”
Myrna: “Very well. The ship is yours, but nothing better happen to my granddaughter.”
Oldie: “We promise she’ll be fine. She’s in good hands.”

Amaya: “Here comes Hugo and Timbo with some of the gear. I’ll send a moving crew to get the rest of our stuff. Come on! Let’s check out our new ship.”
Doog: “One thing first, moustache check for Hugo.”
Hugo: “I don’t have a moustache, Doog.”
Doog: “You sure don’t. Hmm, you learn something new every day.”
 
 
Note: The Moneta family controls several interests within the Grex Cluster. Their primary source of income comes from Bulla Shipping, a billion-credit company that exports the commodities of the cluster to the rest of the galaxy. They also have control full control of the production of LIU Atlas now. 

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting Renovo, an outer-rim world. Renovo is a circumbinary planet, meaning it orbits around a binary star system. Renovo is ice cold due to its lack of atmosphere and its deep orbit. We’re going to head down to the planet and see why anyone would bother living here.”

Doog: “Alright, I’ve been dropped off on a landing platform above some type of facility. There are several structures here, but none of them seem all that large. I guessing they are part of a larger facility within the cliffside.”

Dr. Samsara: “Well, hypothesized, Mr. McDoogal. These are, in fact, part of a larger whole. The majority of this station is underground, where it is protected from radiation. I’m Dr. Samsara, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Doog: “Mr. McDoogal is my father…well, allegedly. Call me Doog.”
Samsara: “Doog. Yes, that will do. Welcome to Renovo.”
Doog: “Thanks. So, quick question, is this place dangerous? I heard you mention radiation.”
Samsara: “Perfectly safe, as long as you stay in that suit.”
Doog: “Given the lack of atmosphere, I think that’s a given. Well, unless something really great tempting happens out here.”
Samsara: “What do you mean?”
Doog: “Well, you never know. What if I see a taco laying around? I might have to remove my helmet to eat it. I can’t pass up that opportunity.”
Samsara: “In that scenario, radiation wouldn’t be the problem. Violent decompression and freezing temperatures would kill you before you could eat this implausibly placed taco.”
Doog: “Perhaps, but I’d have to try. Maybe your guys shouldn’t leave anything tempting outside while I’m here. That list would include: tacos, pizza, cheeseburgers, nudie magazines…”
Samsara: “I assure you nothing on your list will be out here. Let’s move on. Please.”

Doog: “If this place is so radioactive, why are there any structures outside? Why not shove them all underground?”
Samsara: “Certain functions require access to the outside. Sub-space communications, radiation and weather monitoring, et cetera. Pods, like these, jut out from the safety of the interior structure to perform these functions.”
Doog: “Makes sense. So, what’s so radioactive here? Uranium? Radium? Plutonium?”
Samsara: “There’s nothing inherently radioactive on the planet. The radiation is from an exterior source. It arrives here in the form of cosmic rays. Renovo’s binary stars put off a ton of radiation, particularly Moksha, the system’s yellow hypergiant. With no atmosphere to filter out the cosmic rays, Renovo gets bombarded.”

Samsara: “We need to cut through the facility to reach the lower levels. While inside, I must insist that you keep your suit sealed. The industrial portions of the facility are exposed to various chemicals and irradiated dust. It’s for your safety.”
Doog: “I’ll try, although the taco scenario seems a bit more likely in here.”
Samsara: “Still highly unlikely. My employees know better than to contaminate their food.”

Doog: “And…we’re right back out in the radioactive wasteland.”
Samsara: “Yes. We needed to get to ground level so we can explore some of our exterior operations.”
Doog: “What kind of operations are we talking about?”

Samsara: “Mining operations. Renovo is abundant in organic compounds called Tholins. We extract them.”
Doog: “Organic? Like it’s alive?”
Samsara: “No, no. Organic simply means that the compounds are carbon based.”
Doog: “Ah. So, what are Tholins? I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
Samsara: “Tholins are an amalgam of organic compounds created when cosmic radiation interacts with the frozen carbon dioxide and methane on Renovo’s surface.”
Doog: “A what of compounds?”
Samsara: “Amalgam, a blend or variety of organic compounds. Tholins are not one specific substance. It varies in its composition, but always contains complex, carbon-based molecules.”
Doog: “Ah, yes. That clears it up.”
Samsara: “It’s a difficult concept to understand for a layman. Some of my non-scientific crew members have taken to calling it, ‘star tar’, if that helps.”
Doog: “Star tar it is. So, where is it?”

Samsara: “It’s difficult to see. We harvested the surface Tholins years ago. Most of the Tholins we obtain now come from underground sources. If you could see it, though, Tholins look like a viscous, reddish-brown liquid.”
Doog: “Star tar. Like tar, but reddish. Got it.”
Samsara: “Yes. Let’s head further into the field.”

Samsara: “We’ve located several underground Tholin reservoirs within this area. Tholins are extracted by drilling and pumping the reservoirs. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with oil production, but the processes are similar.”
Doog: “I’ve done some drilling and pumping, if you know what I mean.”
Samsara: “In the oil industry?”
Doog: “Sex worker industry, mostly.”
Samsara: “Oh, I see now. You were trying to be humorous.”
Doog: “I was trying, but, apparently, I failed.”

Samsara: “Tholins are transported back to the facility via pipelines.”
Doog: “I’ve laid some pipe over the years.”
Samsara: “You worked in…wait…that’s a euphemism, isn’t it? You’re full of jokes.”
Doog: “What can I say? Comedy is my thing. Wait! Is that a taco over there?!”
Samsara: “What? Where?!”
Doog: “Never mind. Just a rock. Close call though.”
Samsara: “You’re not right, are you?”
Doog: “Not entirely.”

Doog: “What’s all this other stuff? Pipeline maintenance?”
Samsara: “This is a drill team actually. They must be heading out get samples from a newly discovered reservoir.”
Doog: “Do you discover new reservoirs often?”
Samsara: “Actually, we don’t. They’re rare.”

Samsara: “Scouting Rovers utilize ground penetrating radar to locate new deposits. They don’t find many, though. Tholins are a limited resource.”
Doog: “Don’t the cosmic rays make more? I would think that Tholins are renewable.”
Samsara: “Renewable, yes, but not on an economic timescale. We are extracting Tholins much faster than they are created. Operations here will not be viable in a decade. Fortunately, Tholins are located on millions of worlds in this galaxy. Any planet or moon that has radiation, no atmosphere, and certain ices will contain Tholins.”
Doog: “I guess that’s good. We wouldn’t want to run out of star tar. Would we? What is it even used for?”
Samsara: “Great question. To answer that, we’ll need to head inside.”

Doog: “This just creates more questions. Am I looking at a slug prison?”
Samsara: “No. These are slugapedes. And, they’re not in prison. These are holding pens.”
Doog: “Slugapedes?”
Samsara: “Yes. A portmanteau of slug and centipede. They look like slugs, but they have these little legs running down their bodies.”

Doog: “So, we discovered the what. What about the why? Why are there slugapedes here?”
Samsara: “Slugapedes have the unique ability to metabolize Tholins. We use them to convert Tholins into a more usable product.”
Doog: “So, let me get this right. They eat the Tholins. Their bodies convert it. And, you, presumably, get a product from slugapede poo?”
Samsara: “Not from the excrement. But, you’re close.”
Doog: “From the urine?”
Samsara: “No, not that either. Follow me.”

Samsara: “Slugapedes originate from an icy moon called Limax. Limax is also covered in Tholins. The Slugapedes eat the Tholins, rearrange the Tholins into biological compounds, and then arrange these compounds into genetic copies of themselves. They replicate themselves using Tholins.”
Doog: “There must be billions of these replicator, slug-a-ma-jigs on Limax.”
Samsara: “Actually, there’s very few. The Tholins are not as abundant on Limax, as they are here. It takes them years to eat enough to replicate themselves.”

Samsara: “Even though there are more Tholins here, we don’t have the time to let the slugapedes eat at a natural pace. We force feed Slugapedes gallons of Tholins every day.”
Doog: “Gross. You’re just pumping star tar down their gullets?”
Samsara: “Yes. They don’t seem to mind. Besides, by overfeeding them, we’ve ramped up their reproduction a thousand percent. Each slugapede gives us three eggs a day.”
Doog: “Eggs? That’s what you get?”

Samsara: “Slugapedes don’t pop out a genetic copy of themselves. They lay eggs that contain all the necessary building blocks for building a copy. If we harvest the eggs soon enough, we can extract the abiogenetic fluid.”
Doog: “The what?”
Samsara: “Abiogenetic fluid. The fluid contains all the basic building blocks of organic matter.”
Doog: “Why would you want that?”

Samsara: “Because you can use the fluid to make any kind of organic matter. We can grow organs, limbs, or entire bodies. It’s not limited to humans either. They literally can make any biological matter.”
Doog: “Can you make tacos?”
Samsara: “Actually, we could, given enough time. There’s better uses though.”
Doog: “What’s better than tacos?”
Samsara: “Everything I mentioned above. Abiogenetic Fluid saves lives.”
Doog: “We got a taco hater over here. I should have known from before.”

Doog: “Kidding aside. Why haven’t I heard of this life-saving fluid?”
Samsara: “It is quite expensive. It is sometimes cheaper to use cybernetic replacements. Also, it’s a bit slower too. Cybernetics can be installed right away, but growing new limbs takes a few weeks.”
Doog: “That’s why I’ve never heard of it. I’m poor and impatient.”
Samsara: “It may be slow and expensive, but it’s still a popular choice, especially among the elite. Why walk around looking like a cyborg when you can get the real thing? Besides that, many of the galaxy’s richest citizens use it to create younger, replacement bodies.”
Doog: “That could be useful. I don’t think my body has that many years left in it.”

Samsara: “The abiogenetic fluid is sold under the name, Resurrect. A fitting name given its properties.”
Doog: “I think it would be cooler if it had a name like star-tar. Something that rhymes, like Renew Goo or something.”
Samsara: “Renew goo sounds disgusting, if I’m being honest.”

Doog: “So, you can just buy a bottle of this stuff and make a new body?”
Samsara: “Well, you can’t purchase it at any old supermarket. It’s usually sold to medical facilities. Even if you could get your hands on some, you don’t have the equipment to do anything with it.”
Doog: “Dang, there goes my plans for making a realistic girlfriend.”
Samsara: “You definitely don’t have the ‘equipment’ for that.”
Doog: “Ouch, doc. You hurt my soul a bit with that one, but at least I know you have a sense of humor now.”

Doog: “So, is that it? Are we done here?”
Samsara: “Not yet. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

Doog: “What in the world is going on here? Worst fish tanks ever!”
Samsara: “They’re not aquariums. They’re Phoenix Chambers, where we grow biological materials.”
Doog: “Ah, that makes much more sense.”
Samsara: “We ship most of the Resurrect off-world, but we do keep some here for experimental purposes.”
Doog: “Experimental? I thought this is sound science?”
Samsara: “It is sound science, but we’re pushing the bounds. Using information obtained from the Emeritus Cloning Project, we’re growing enhanced lifeforms. We’re building lifeforms that never existed. We are pushing…”
Doog: “I’ve been to Emeritus. You’re making enhanced Super-Soldiers, aren’t you?”
Samsara: “I can’t answer that. We’re doing stuff though. Amazing stuff.”
Doog: “Yeah, ok. Anything else?”
Samsara: “No, that’s it.”

Doog: “Well folks, Renovo is a strange place. The interaction between cosmic radiation and Renovo’s various ices has created a substance called Tholins, also known as star tar. This tar is collected and force-fed to imported, slug-like creatures. Yeah, I know. It’s weird. The stuffed slugs lay eggs that have some type of fluid inside that can make body parts. You can’t make this stuff up. I think that’s the gist of it. Oh well, see ya!”
 

​
Note: Favorite Puns of the Phoenix Chamber Facility:
#1 “Can you give me a hand over here…”
#2 “He’s got a leg up on you…”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re exploring the Opulentus Chthonian Remnant Field, which is a bit of a mouthful. From here on out, we’re just going to call it Opulentus. Opulentus got its name because it is a field of debris that was once a chthonian planet. Now, if you’re like me, that isn’t very helpful. What’s a chthonian planet? Well, I’m told a chthonian planet is a former gas giant that has its gaseous layers stripped away. Only the highly condensed core of the gas giant remains. Chthonian planets contain all the exotic matter of a gas giant without all the pesky gas and atmospheric pressure. These rare planets are prime mining worlds. In the case of Opulentus, the gaseous layers were removed by passing black hole. The black hole’s gravity also shattered the chthonian planet, therefore creating the Opulentus Chthonian Remnant Field. Whew, that was complicated. Anyway, Opulentus is inhabited, so let’s head inside.”

OCRF-451: “You must be Doog.”
Doog: “I am. And, you must be one of the monotone robotic entities that inhabit Opulentus.”
OCRF-451: “I am designated OCRF-451.”
Doog: “OCRF-451? That’s a bit long. How about OC?”
OC: “I exist to serve.”
Doog: “Nice. I dig your subservience. I could have used you earlier though. I’ve been wandering around for a while. Everything is locked up.”
OC: “Our facility is highly secure for your safety. The exotic matter mined from the Opulentus Chthonian Remnant Field can be unstable and therefore dangerous.”
Doog: “What exactly do you mine here?”

OC: “We mainly mine metallic hydrogen.”
Doog: “Hey, I know metallic hydrogen. They mine it on this planet called Barathrum. I thought metallic hydrogen was only found in the deep cores of gas giants?”
OC: “Opulentus used to be a gas giant. The metallic hydrogen created during that era still exists now. Metallic hydrogen is meta-stable. Once created, it remains in the same state until sufficiently disturbed.”
Doog: “Oh yeah. I forgot about that part. Barathrum was like four years ago. My information retention abilities are slightly lacking.”
OC: “Although meta-stable, metallic hydrogen extraction can be dangerous. While removing regolith, you risk the chance of striking pockets of metallic hydrogen and destabilizing it.”
Doog: “I’m guessing destabilization equals big booms.”
OC: “There is a significant energy release. Luckily, my model was created to offset risks. We possess upgraded sensory perception and advanced dexterity. With the aid of stabilization walkers, we have very few accidents.”

Doog: “So, you were created?”
OC: “Yes. My model was developed by the Technocracy for the sole purpose of mining the Opulentus Chthonian Remnant Field.”
Doog: “You were created by the Technocracy? I know them. I’ve been to Arillator.”
OC: “Yes. At the peak of the Technocracy, they controlled hundreds of worlds. The Opulentus Chthonian Remnant Field was one such world. In my estimation, it was one of their most profitable possessions. It quickly caught the LIU’s attention.”
Doog: “What makes it so profitable? The metallic hydrogen? I guess that’s kind of rare.”
OC: “It’s more of what you can do with metallic hydrogen. Follow me.”

Doog: “Whoa. What’s this thing?”
OC: “A power generator.”
Doog: “So, in addition to mining, you generate power?”
OC: “We generate power from what we mine. We destabilize metallic hydrogen in a controlled manner.”

Doog: “Got it. I knew metallic hydrogen had many uses. I forgot it releases energy when disturbed.”
OC: “Yes. We make about 5 zettajoules of clean power every week. Enough to power a civilized planet for an entire year.”
Doog: “That sounds profitable. You essentially power fifty planets a year just by yourself.”
OC: “Indeed.”

OC: “Chthonian planets have more than just metallic hydrogen. They have other exotic high-pressure materials, like pressurized sodium chloride. Under the right conditions, Na3Cl is two-dimensional super-conductive metal. We use it make our own brand of power cells.”

Doog: “What makes them so special?”
OC: “Nothing really. They’re similar to other power cells for the most part. It does lessen our reliance on other worlds though, which drives up profits.”
Doog: “Sounds like Opulentus is a rich world.”
OC: “It's very rich with little overhead expenses. My model does not require payment for labor, so almost every credit made belongs to the LIU. Some power must be siphoned off to power myself and my counterparts, but it hardly makes a dent in profitability. Many studies suggest that Opulentus is one of the galaxy’s most profitable world.”

Doog: “Is that what’s locked away behind all these doors? Massive vaults of wealth?”
OC: “Yes, technically, but not in the manner you’re imagining. The potential for wealth here has attracted large numbers of the LIU’s elite, especially those looking to invest. First class facilities were built to house them and meet their elegant lifestyle. They are beyond this door.”
Doog: “That’s why it’s locked...to keep out low class folks like myself.”
OC: “Yes, but it is your lucky day. You have been granted access to the elite sections of this facility. Follow me.”

Doog: “This seems so out of place…a fancy bar on a mining world.”
OC: “We prefer cocktail lounge. It’s a gathering place for the elite to mingle, discuss investments, and make business deals. Many issues of galactic importance have been settled over a bottle of liquor in this lounge.”
Doog: “It’s good to know that the fate of us underlings are all drunk decisions.”

OC: “What’s wrong? Why are you doing that?”
Doog: “Doing what?”
OC: “Puffing out your chest and sucking in your belly?”
Doog: “Can’t a guy try to look good in front of the elite ladies? I’m definitely in the market for a sugar momma.”
OC: “I do not possess information on that subject. Perhaps we should continue.”

Doog: “Holy Emperor! I’m trying really hard not to go fanboy crazy on you, but is that Maddie and the Soap Buckets?!”
OC: “I believe so.”
Doog: “This is one of the biggest bands in the galaxy! What are they doing here!?”
OC: “Galaxy-class entertainment is brought in daily to please the elite.”

Doog: “The elite aren’t even paying attention! They’re just eating dinner like nothing’s happening!”
OC: “I don’t pretend to understand the musical needs of sentient beings, so I can’t speak to their disinterest. However, the band is here quite frequently. Perhaps their novelty has worn off.”

Doog: “I doubt that. I could listen to their stuff for years.”
OC: “Perhaps it’s the top of the line cuisine distracting them.”
Doog: “Maybe. It does smell delicious in here. I see pizza too. Pizza might be a temporary distraction, I guess. In fact, that’s all I can think about now. Do I get pizza as part of the tour?”
OC: “I’m afraid not. The cuisine is strictly for elite citizens. They enjoy eating while discussing business arrangements.”
Doog: “Is that all that happens in Opulentus’ elite section? Is everything just set up to facilitate business meetings?”
OC: “Yes. We still have the observation deck and ballroom to tour, if you’re ready to move on.”
Doog: “I think we can pass. We get the point. Elite people under elite conditions meet with each other. No need to keep seeing the same thing.”
OC: “There is one other thing of interest that is sufficiently different to be of worth.  It is also a form of entertainment, but it’s usually too exciting to conduct business.”
Doog: “I like the way that sounds. I guess I can spare a bit more time.”

Doog: “This isn’t what I was expecting. Everyone has their clothes on. What am I looking at here?”
OC: “This is the skill game, Prosperity.”
Doog: “Prosperity? Never heard of it.”
OC: “It is a game played by the elite. It was developed on the world of Alea as a betting game, but was abandoned by the casinos because it offers no house edge. Instead of players playing against the house, they play against each other. The players bet on themselves and the crowd bets on whoever they think will win. A lot of money gets thrown around during Prosperity, which makes it too expensive for the non-elite to play. Thousands of credits can be spent in minutes.”

Doog: “How do you play?”
OC: “It’s much too elaborate to explain in the time we have remaining. I can give you a condensed version, though.”
Doog: “Go for it.”
OC: “It involves tossing the magnetic dice, called a Fortune, over a series of numbered panels. Each panel indicates if the fortune increases or decreases, depending on where the dice stops. Each competitor gets six throws, which is called a career. Whichever competitor amasses the most fortune at the end of their career, wins at Prosperity.”
Doog: “Seems easy enough. Rolling and then some math.”
OC: “That’s the basics, but there’s a lot more. There are multipliers, strikes, investments, espionage, and many, many other moves during a career that make the game much more difficult.”
Doog: “Yeah, ok. You’re right. We don’t have time for that, especially since I’ll never have enough money to play. What’s the point of learning the game if you can never play it.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Opulentus. This destroyed chthonian planet has immense mineral worth, mostly in the form of metallic hydrogen. These minerals are turned into energy and power cells, making Opulentus extremely valuable. Its value has attracted a slew of rich, elite citizens. The visiting elite citizens have special needs, so galaxy-class accommodations were built here. This place has all the fancy restaurants, concert venues, and bars the elite citizens need. This certainly isn’t a place for someone like me. Oh well, off to the next planet. See ya!”
 
 
 
Note: Maddie and the Soap Buckets will be playing their number one single, Teleport My Holographic Heart, live on TV2 later this month. Get details by following TV2 on your LIUpad.