There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas.
LIU Atlas - Magnavena
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, 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.
Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.
Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Magnavena. Magnavena, originally named Magna Avena, is an agricultural world near the Cibus Hyperspace Route. Magnavena’s temperate climate, steady precipitation, and minimal axial tilt allows for recurrent farming on over 70% of the planet. I didn’t write that line, so – for people like me – that essentially means they farm all year long over much of the planet. Let’s head down and check out what exactly they’re farming.”
Doog: “Alright folks, here we are. Another agricultural planet. How boring is this episode going to be? Looks like I’ve been dropped off in some type of spaceport. The only notable thing I see are these tall plants. Someone here needs to cut the grass or spray for weeds.”
Norman: “Whoa-ho-ho, that’d be a mistake!”
Doog: “Huh?”
Norman: “Spraying the ‘weeds’, silly. Those aren’t weeds. They’re Avena oats.”
Doog: “What are Avena oats? And who are you?”
Norman: “I’m your guide, Norman. My folks call me Normy, but I don’t think we know each other well enough for that. Speaking of my folks, can I give a shout out? Hey Ma! Hey Pa!”
Doog: “It kind of defeats the purpose of asking, if you do it anyway.”
Norman: “Giminy buckets! I’ve been on TV for two minutes, and I’m already messing up! Come one Normy! Get your head in the game!”
Doog: “Relax. This show isn’t that serious.”
Norman: “Maybe not for you, but I’m the first Tullbuck to make it on TV. I have my family’s legacy at stake.”
Doog: “I wouldn’t say our twelve viewers equates to a legacy, but to each their own. So, what were you saying about oats?”
Doog: “Huh?”
Norman: “Spraying the ‘weeds’, silly. Those aren’t weeds. They’re Avena oats.”
Doog: “What are Avena oats? And who are you?”
Norman: “I’m your guide, Norman. My folks call me Normy, but I don’t think we know each other well enough for that. Speaking of my folks, can I give a shout out? Hey Ma! Hey Pa!”
Doog: “It kind of defeats the purpose of asking, if you do it anyway.”
Norman: “Giminy buckets! I’ve been on TV for two minutes, and I’m already messing up! Come one Normy! Get your head in the game!”
Doog: “Relax. This show isn’t that serious.”
Norman: “Maybe not for you, but I’m the first Tullbuck to make it on TV. I have my family’s legacy at stake.”
Doog: “I wouldn’t say our twelve viewers equates to a legacy, but to each their own. So, what were you saying about oats?”
Norman: “Second chance, here we go. These are Avena oats. They’re a cereal grain grown for their seeds.”
Doog: “Seeds?”
Norman: “Yessiree bob. They’re in those bushy things at the top.”
Doog: “I see. And, you farm these oats?”
Norman: “It’s our sole crop.”
Doog: “You planted oats across the whole planet?”
Norman: “Well, buddy – let me stop you right there. We didn’t plant anything. Avena oats are native to Magnavena. They just grow on their own. Amazing right?! And, better yet, they just keep growing all the time. We harvest them non-stop all year long. We’re talking upwards of a billion metric tons of oats globally.”
Doog: “I don’t know measurements, but that seems like a lot.”
Norman: “It is. Obviously, an operation of this scale needs some technological support. Let’s head inside the spaceport, and I’ll show you.”
Doog: “Seeds?”
Norman: “Yessiree bob. They’re in those bushy things at the top.”
Doog: “I see. And, you farm these oats?”
Norman: “It’s our sole crop.”
Doog: “You planted oats across the whole planet?”
Norman: “Well, buddy – let me stop you right there. We didn’t plant anything. Avena oats are native to Magnavena. They just grow on their own. Amazing right?! And, better yet, they just keep growing all the time. We harvest them non-stop all year long. We’re talking upwards of a billion metric tons of oats globally.”
Doog: “I don’t know measurements, but that seems like a lot.”
Norman: “It is. Obviously, an operation of this scale needs some technological support. Let’s head inside the spaceport, and I’ll show you.”
Norman: “There are eighteen spaceports on Magnavena’s equator – each spread twenty degrees apart. Each spaceport is responsible for monitoring its twenty degrees of the planet.”
Doog: “Monitoring what?”
Norman: “Golly gee. Where do I start?”
Doog: “Monitoring what?”
Norman: “Golly gee. Where do I start?”
Norman: “Weather, humidity, growth rates, oats per bushel, yield percentages…a whole bunch of stuff.”
Doog: “Most of that means nothing to me.”
Norman: “It doesn’t make much sense to me either, if we’re being honest. I’m just a farmhand. But, I hear it’s pretty important. It lets us know where to send the mechs for the best harvests, and stuff like that.”
Doog: “Mechs? That sounds cooler than this control room.”
Norman: “Sure fiddle dipper does. Let’s move on out.”
Doog: “Most of that means nothing to me.”
Norman: “It doesn’t make much sense to me either, if we’re being honest. I’m just a farmhand. But, I hear it’s pretty important. It lets us know where to send the mechs for the best harvests, and stuff like that.”
Doog: “Mechs? That sounds cooler than this control room.”
Norman: “Sure fiddle dipper does. Let’s move on out.”
Doog: “How far away are these mechs?”
Norman: “We lucked out. They’re harvesting just a few miles from here.”
Doog: “Miles? Don’t you have a tractor or something?”
Norman: “This is a global farming operation. We can’t spare equipment just for a ride.”
Doog: “Sigh.”
Norman: “My ma used to sing a song about our walks, ‘Cheese and butter on your toast, out the door to do our most. Walk, walk, walk to our post, as a hard day’s work will let us boast. Then walk, walk, walk to home for roast.’”
Doog: “You guys eat roasts?”
Norman: “No, but it rhymes better than dehydrated nutrient logs.”
Norman: “We lucked out. They’re harvesting just a few miles from here.”
Doog: “Miles? Don’t you have a tractor or something?”
Norman: “This is a global farming operation. We can’t spare equipment just for a ride.”
Doog: “Sigh.”
Norman: “My ma used to sing a song about our walks, ‘Cheese and butter on your toast, out the door to do our most. Walk, walk, walk to our post, as a hard day’s work will let us boast. Then walk, walk, walk to home for roast.’”
Doog: “You guys eat roasts?”
Norman: “No, but it rhymes better than dehydrated nutrient logs.”
Doog: “Finally. That’s a sight for sore eyes…and legs.”
Norman: “Bo-ho-ho, here we go! This big fella is a Magna-class Harvester. We call it the MCH for short.”
Doog: “What’s up with the big sword-thingy?”
Norman: “The harvesting blade? It’s for cutting down Avena oats.”
Doog: “Why is it so big, though?”
Norman: “Harvesting these oats requires two cuts. One to remove the seed head – you know, the actual oats – and one to bring down the empty stalk. Those stalks are thick and hardened at the base.”
Doog: “Why not keep the stalk up? Won’t it make more oats?”
Norman: “No siree, Bob. They produce one seed head and then die. We cut them down so a new stalk can grow in its place. It’s faster than letting it die naturally.”
Norman: “Bo-ho-ho, here we go! This big fella is a Magna-class Harvester. We call it the MCH for short.”
Doog: “What’s up with the big sword-thingy?”
Norman: “The harvesting blade? It’s for cutting down Avena oats.”
Doog: “Why is it so big, though?”
Norman: “Harvesting these oats requires two cuts. One to remove the seed head – you know, the actual oats – and one to bring down the empty stalk. Those stalks are thick and hardened at the base.”
Doog: “Why not keep the stalk up? Won’t it make more oats?”
Norman: “No siree, Bob. They produce one seed head and then die. We cut them down so a new stalk can grow in its place. It’s faster than letting it die naturally.”
Doog: “So, you pilot one of these things?”
Norman: “Oh, no. I can’t commit to a contract that long. Ma and Pa would kill me.”
Doog: “What do you mean?”
Norman: “MCH pilots sign contracts of either five, ten, or fifteen years. I can’t pledge that much time away from my family.”
Doog: “You still get to see them at night, right?”
Norman: “That’s the thing…you don’t. You pretty much stay in the MCH mech for the length of your contract.”
Doog: “What?!”
Norman: “Yeah. See that little room on the back of the mech? That’s where you live for the next five to fifteen years.”
Doog: “Why?”
Norman: “The fields are huge. You can’t waste time and fuel running your mech back to the granary every night. You just sleep in the back, wake up, and get back to harvesting.”
Doog: “Why would anyone commit to five years of that…let alone fifteen years?”
Norman: “They get paid decent wages, and you get more if you commit for more years.”
Doog: “Yikes. So, if you don’t do that? What do you do?”
Norman: “Oh, no. I can’t commit to a contract that long. Ma and Pa would kill me.”
Doog: “What do you mean?”
Norman: “MCH pilots sign contracts of either five, ten, or fifteen years. I can’t pledge that much time away from my family.”
Doog: “You still get to see them at night, right?”
Norman: “That’s the thing…you don’t. You pretty much stay in the MCH mech for the length of your contract.”
Doog: “What?!”
Norman: “Yeah. See that little room on the back of the mech? That’s where you live for the next five to fifteen years.”
Doog: “Why?”
Norman: “The fields are huge. You can’t waste time and fuel running your mech back to the granary every night. You just sleep in the back, wake up, and get back to harvesting.”
Doog: “Why would anyone commit to five years of that…let alone fifteen years?”
Norman: “They get paid decent wages, and you get more if you commit for more years.”
Doog: “Yikes. So, if you don’t do that? What do you do?”
Norman: “I pilot a Minori-class Gatherer, or MCG. These smaller mechs – well, technically hardsuits – gather seeds heads cut off by the MCH’s. They’re pretty useful. They have telescoping arms to make picking-up easier. They can carry tons, and they’re very fast.”
Doog: “You don’t have to commit to a contract to pilot these?”
Norman: “Nope-a-dope. The MCH’s have to bring the seeds back to the granary every half an hour or so. They don’t need to stay in the field like the slower, fuel-guzzling MCH’s.”
Doog: “Speaking of fuel, don’t the MCH’s have to go back to refuel?”
Norman: “No sir. The MCG’s have a lot of versatility. They can switch out their harvesting bins for other attachments, like – fuel tanks and food transport.”
Doog: “I see.”
Doog: “You don’t have to commit to a contract to pilot these?”
Norman: “Nope-a-dope. The MCH’s have to bring the seeds back to the granary every half an hour or so. They don’t need to stay in the field like the slower, fuel-guzzling MCH’s.”
Doog: “Speaking of fuel, don’t the MCH’s have to go back to refuel?”
Norman: “No sir. The MCG’s have a lot of versatility. They can switch out their harvesting bins for other attachments, like – fuel tanks and food transport.”
Doog: “I see.”
Doog: “I’m not the smartest fish in the shed, but these logistics aren’t making sense. You’re telling me these alphabetically-named mechs transport seeds to the spaceports? That would mean you’re running hundreds of miles each trip. You said there was only sixteen spaceports.”
Norman: “Eighteen, buddy, but your right, that wouldn’t make sense. They don’t bring the seed heads to the spaceports. They bring them to a granary. There are thousands of granaries between each spaceport.”
Doog: “Granary?”
Norman: “Yeah, that’s where we’re headed now.”
Doog: “Oh, ok. Hey, what’s this? It looks like some type of skeleton?”
Norman: “Eighteen, buddy, but your right, that wouldn’t make sense. They don’t bring the seed heads to the spaceports. They bring them to a granary. There are thousands of granaries between each spaceport.”
Doog: “Granary?”
Norman: “Yeah, that’s where we’re headed now.”
Doog: “Oh, ok. Hey, what’s this? It looks like some type of skeleton?”
Norman: “It sure is. Looks like an old Hush skeleton.”
Doog: “A what?”
Norman: “A Hush, aka an oat rat. A subterranean rodent that fed on Avena oats. How does that rhyme go? Silent steps, not a peep. Below the surface, monsters sleep. Teeth like knives, they take our lives. Claws inline, they’ll split your spine. Tread with care, not a peep, below, below the Hush live deep.”
Doog: “That’s a terrifying poem.”
Norman: “A children’s nursery rhyme, actually.”
Doog: “Even worse. Why tell children that rhyme? I bet it gave them a lot of nightmares.”
Norman: “It was a catchy way to explain the danger of these territorial, sound-sensitive beasts. They used to kill a lot of the first settlers.”
Doog: “Used to?”
Norman: “They’re believed to be extinct now. No one has seen a live Hush in years.
Doog: “If they were so dangerous, how did they go extinct?”
Norman: “Attacking things that made sound didn’t make bode well for them after the mechs and trains arrived. They paid dearly for that.”
Doog: “Phew. As long as I’m safe.”
Doog: “A what?”
Norman: “A Hush, aka an oat rat. A subterranean rodent that fed on Avena oats. How does that rhyme go? Silent steps, not a peep. Below the surface, monsters sleep. Teeth like knives, they take our lives. Claws inline, they’ll split your spine. Tread with care, not a peep, below, below the Hush live deep.”
Doog: “That’s a terrifying poem.”
Norman: “A children’s nursery rhyme, actually.”
Doog: “Even worse. Why tell children that rhyme? I bet it gave them a lot of nightmares.”
Norman: “It was a catchy way to explain the danger of these territorial, sound-sensitive beasts. They used to kill a lot of the first settlers.”
Doog: “Used to?”
Norman: “They’re believed to be extinct now. No one has seen a live Hush in years.
Doog: “If they were so dangerous, how did they go extinct?”
Norman: “Attacking things that made sound didn’t make bode well for them after the mechs and trains arrived. They paid dearly for that.”
Doog: “Phew. As long as I’m safe.”
Norman: “As I mentioned earlier, this is a granary. There are tens of thousands of them on Magnavena – each being responsible for approximately 200 square miles.”
Doog: “How do they work?”
Doog: “How do they work?”
Norman: “MCG’s bring oats to the granary. They are stored in silos until transport trains arrive. These trains collect oats from the various granaries and bring them to the spaceports. Pretty self-explanatory, Doogy-Doog.”
Doog: “Don’t call me that.”
Norman: “Sorry. I got carried away.”
Doog: “So, do you guys live here? Is Ma and Pa around?”
Norman: “Oh, no. We live in underground bunkers. Can’t waste farmable land. Besides, my family is more in the area of #5296, not #5298. Shout out to my #5296 fams!”
Doog: "Can you stop shouting out everyone you know?"
Norman: "Oops. Sorry. I forgot."
Doog: “Don’t call me that.”
Norman: “Sorry. I got carried away.”
Doog: “So, do you guys live here? Is Ma and Pa around?”
Norman: “Oh, no. We live in underground bunkers. Can’t waste farmable land. Besides, my family is more in the area of #5296, not #5298. Shout out to my #5296 fams!”
Doog: "Can you stop shouting out everyone you know?"
Norman: "Oops. Sorry. I forgot."
Norman: “The back side of the granary is where we unload the MCG’s. Thresher machines break the seed heads into individual oats, and they are transported up into the silos.”
Doog: “I understand the silos, but what is the rest of this building for?”
Norman: “Row-ho-ho, good question. There’s processing equipment that removes impurities from the oats, fuel and food storage, and a small residence for the local cargo master.”
Doog: “I understand the silos, but what is the rest of this building for?”
Norman: “Row-ho-ho, good question. There’s processing equipment that removes impurities from the oats, fuel and food storage, and a small residence for the local cargo master.”
Doog: “I guess we know how most of this works now. I guess my last question is why? Why harvest all these oats? Who eats oats?”
Norman: “Avena Oats have lots of uses. Some are used to make healthy foods, like Avena O’s.”
Doog: “Never heard of those.”
Norman: “Whaaat! It’s like the eighteenth most popular breakfast cereal! Perhaps you’re more familiar with Avena cookies or Avena brownies?”
Doog: “I don’t do healthy very often. I’m more of a meat guy.”
Norman: “Well, you might be more familiar with Avena oats’ other uses then.”
Doog: “Never heard of those.”
Norman: “Whaaat! It’s like the eighteenth most popular breakfast cereal! Perhaps you’re more familiar with Avena cookies or Avena brownies?”
Doog: “I don’t do healthy very often. I’m more of a meat guy.”
Norman: “Well, you might be more familiar with Avena oats’ other uses then.”
Norman: “Eighty percent of our harvest goes towards animal feed. Kaadu, Beemu, Mulgeo, Lacunar Pigs, and many other livestock eats Avena oats.”
Doog: “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Norman: “We feed future meat.”
Doog: “Thanks for your service then, Normy. Can I call you that? I feel like we’re best friends now.”
Normy: “Sure diddly-can.”
Doog: “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Norman: “We feed future meat.”
Doog: “Thanks for your service then, Normy. Can I call you that? I feel like we’re best friends now.”
Normy: “Sure diddly-can.”
Doog: “Well folks, you can thank the people of Magnavena for feeding your meat. This agricultural world grows tons and tons of Avena oats that are used to nourish all your favorite edible animals. They have mechs, silos, trains, and weird children’s literature. Oh well, see ya later!”
Note:
Note:
Avena O’s were once marketed with the anthropomorphic oat-stalk mascot, Oatty. Children were terrified of Oatty, but sales neither grew nor fell. It turns out, people just don’t like eating oats.
