Oolite Bulletins

Aronar
* Economic status: Poor industrial
* Technology level: 8
* Population: 3.2 million human colonials
* Political status: Feudal
* Radius: 5429 km
* G: 1.02 standard
* Neighbors (7.0 LY or less): Isence, Aesbion, Beusrior, Ontiat, Isinor, Qutiri

"Aronar is most famous for the Aronarian deadly goat and its hoopy casinos."

The planet of Aronar is home to one of the most unusual cultures in the Ooniverse. On the one hand, the people are very conservative and spiritual, believing for the most part in the Fundamental Tenets of the Word of Giles, including the admonitions against excess material wealth. On the other hand, the entire planet seems to suffer from a collective compulsive gambling habit. Casinos, gambling halls, race courses and tournament fields seem to be on every street corner, and passions for the hobby run so deep that two Aronarians will often make casual bets on such matters as which of two raindrops will reach the bottom windowpane first. The casual observer is often left standing in wonder how these two seemingly contradictory facets of society can exist in harmony. The secret lies in a peculiar idea known locally as "the Wheel of Fortune."

The Wheel of Fortune's basic principle is that the souls of all sentient beings are part of a great cosmic wheel that turns according to the will of Giles. As it turns, a soul's fortune will rise and fall according to its place on the wheel; as life goes on, one is subjected to a continuous cycle of rising and falling fortune. As a result, any fortunes won as a result of chance are seen as perfectly legitimate; if it was not Giles's will that the winner should be so fortunate, he would not have won. Of course, this extends to other areas of life as well; disappointments and failures are seen as only temporary, while Aronarians are not overly proud of today's accomplishment when they may be swept away by a downturn of fortune tomorrow. On the whole, this gives them a rather phlegmatic outlook on life. However, it also gives them a certain contempt for traders and merchants, whom they feel are trying to defy the cycle by always seeking profit at any expense. This has caused some friction with many spacefaring peoples, particularly with their vitriolic neighbors on Aesbion.

While most traders will be able to satisfy their entertainment needs at any of the the local gambling halls (where, appropriately enough, the roulette wheel dominates), those with more discerning tastes are encouraged to investigate one of the aristocratic lodges. Generally visitors from the outside are received hospitably, and even with some curiosity - unlike on some worlds, most people have little opportunity for day-to-day contact with pilots. The local lord will undoubtedly throw a sumptuous (and, most important of all, expense-free) feast during your visit, complete with the best food and drink in his stocks and entertainment provided by a local band or a traveling actors' troupe. He may also throw an impromptu tournament, inviting you to compete against the best pilots of his house in various competitions, which will of course attract plenty of interest (and money) from the locals. (Be careful - although space duels are only supposed to last until one party yields, accidents do happen.) The entire point of all this extravagance, of course, is to impress you into swearing fealty to the lord's house as an exclusive pilot. You may be tempted - house pilots are granted considerable privileges, including the lord's protection - but you are under no obligation to accept, no matter how good the local alcohol is, and the lord will sometimes (begrudgingly) allow himself to be bargained down to a much more open contract if the price is right. Being a member or close ally of an aristocratic house often brings benefits, but it can also attract some unwelcome attention from jealous rivals; although open warfare has thankfully gone out of style on Aronar, the nobility still wage petty "shadow conflicts" against one another, and being too close to a particular house or too good at your job may make you an ideal target for a little dash of poison in your next meal or being smothered by a well-paid chambermaid in your sleep. Your friends probably won't miss you too much, either - after all, that's how the wheel turns.

While you're visiting the countryside, be on the lookout for the famed Aronarian deadly goat. They shouldn't be too difficult to spot - they're about half again as tall as an average human being and usually kitted out with garish purple and sky-blue fleeces. Males also sport large curved horns, which they often use to settle arguments over territory or females - naturally, these clashes give yet another outlet for bored Aronarians to press their luck. Despite the name, the deadly goats tend to be quite docile unless provoked, although they do get noticeably agitated during the local mating season. Should you somehow manage to get on the receiving end of a goat charge, the best thing to do is to run away as quickly as you possibly can; a charging male can easily kill a full-grown human (or any number of other sentients), while even concentrated blaster fire has difficulty penetrating their tough skulls. Thankfully, deadly goats tend to exhaust themselves pretty quickly when charging at full speed, so as long as you're in decent shape you should be able to outrun one. While large flocks do still roam in the wild (particularly in the south, where a shaggier breed prevails against the colder temperatures), most have been domesticated and are found in the pastures surrounding the lodges.

Also note that, aside from the feasts, taverns and gambling halls, you should try to be on your best behavior while planetside. The people of Aronar tend to be somewhat old-fashioned about vice and draconian in their punishments. Giles alone can help you if you are caught in a particularly criminal or scandalous act, although the locals will help you arrange a personal meeting to straighten things out. All in all, you'll stay out of jeopardy if you keep yourself on a tight leash, show (or fake) the proper respect to the right people, and don't make too many of the wrong sort of enemies.

Xexedi

* Economic status: Rich industrial (Specialist in high-end tech and beauty products)
* Technology level: 14
* Population: 5.8 Billion (Large Green Frogs)'
* Political status: Confederacy
* Radius: 3399km
* G: 0.99 standard
* Neighbors (7.0 LY or less): Terea, Oresri, Usle, Uscela, Maregeis, Laenin, Reinen, Esbeus, Lerelace, Tibionis, Xeoner

"The planet Xexedi is scourged by a deadly disease."

The instant you drop out of witchspace into the Xexedi system, you can see that it is one of the busiest systems in the known Ooniverse. For one thing, you're never alone on the inflight corridor - almost as soon as you pop in, you'll find yourself in the presence of ships - some bulk haulers carrying the billions of tons of food, water and other products necessary to fuel the planet-spanning city, others carrying delegations and dispatches to the millions of corporations that have their headquarters on (or partially under) its surface - including such household names as L'Ooreal and Zorgon Petterson. All of these, plus the myriads of freelance traders (such as yourself) and curious tourists from the far corners of the Eight Galaxies, combine to form a traffic stack that stretches all the way out to the witchpoint. Xexedi's Traffic Control Division has a larger fleet and budget than some systems' entire police forces, and the single orbiting Galcop station, though housing one of the largest hangars seen anywhere, is woefully inadequate to cope with all the vessels that come and go. Most of the larger hauling corporations, in fact, have either constructed their own stations or negotiated to have their fleets shuttle their cargoes directly to the surface. Even then, the station itself highly encourages a constant traffic flow by imposing steep extra fees on pilots who intend to stay docked longer than three standard hours for any reason other than a medical or mechanical emergency. Constant bustle and high prices for everything are constants on Xexedi, no matter where you go.

Once you reach the "surface" (many residents spend their entire lives without ever setting foot on the ground level of the planet), you discover that Xexedi is a cosmopolitan place. Officially the native froglike Xexedians make up the majority of the population, but a quick glance at the crowded walkways shows sentients of every species, color and body type, most of them trying to push their way through the crowd with varying degrees of success and urgency. The ever-present mass of people is quite a different experience from the usual spacer lifestyle, where more than ten contacts on a scope is a "crowded neighborhood," and even veteran pilots may start feeling claustrophobic.

One of the first things you want to do after you've recovered your composure is to find yourself something to eat, and what better way to do that than to enjoy one of the most upscale restaurants in the Eight? It's going to be expensive, but if you've managed to make it this far already, you probably have money to burn anyway. No matter what your preference, you're guaranteed to find some high-class establishment that caters to it. Try to check in advance both for available reservations and for proper attire at one of the handy pay-terminals first, though, especially as some places will actually charge money for wasting their time if you try to get a table without either. You might also wish to check out one of the planet's Hyper-Malls, featuring stores with cutting edge technology and fashions that are ten years ahead of the rest of the Ooniverse. You can even marvel at the wonderful interactive advertisements that detect when you take a gander at their products and archive your retinal patterns so that the next time you look at one, it will automatically tailor itself to suit your interests.

No tour of the Capital Financial District is complete without a tour of the Xexedi Skyneedle. This single tower is the beating heart of an entire Ooniverse's commerce, housing the corporate offices of almost all of the FortOone 500. The Skyneedle towers over its surroundings at the impressive height of two miles; while most spacers will be hard to impress, having spent most of their lives some thirty times above a planetary surface at least, the view from the top is certainly something not to miss, especially at night.

Of course, Xexedi is not without its hidden dark side. Living on the planet is staggeringly expensive, and while many white-collar workers make truly impressive salaries, a high percentage of these go towards paying the prodigious rent rates and the high cost of daily necessities. Those lower on the pay scale are even unluckier, often effectively selling themselves into indenture to one of the major corporations simply to make ends meet. Finally, while the planet seeks to present a shiny, glossy public image, once you step beyond the financial districts you encounter billions of acres of factories and processing plants, spewing out toxins and carcinogens into the atmosphere at alarming rates. In fact, almost every resident eventually develops some kind of respiratory problem - even the most advanced filtration systems cannot cope with the volume of pollutants pumped into the air - and most die before reaching middle age. Finally, there are nasty (though unproven) rumors that even the massive tonnage of shipped foodstuffs are not enough to satisfy demand, and therefore the corporations have resorted to some rather gruesome alternatives to avert the threat of famine...

Also, a word of warning: Be wary should you ever be informed that you are eligible for an all-expenses-paid vacation to Xexedi, especially if there seems to be a typo in the system's name. One rather unfortunate scam is to trick the victim into accepting a "chance of a lifetime," only to find that most of the trip is spent within a sealed cargo crate - and that once they arrive, they will be spending the rest of their days toiling as slaves in the fields of the sulfurous, volcanic hellhole Xexeti.

Reinen
* Economic status: Average Agricultural
* Technology level: 8
* Population: 4.0 Bilion (Human colonials)
* Political status: Confederacy
* Radius: 6455 km
* G: 1.00 standard
* Neighbors (7.0 LY or less): Isence, Terea, Oresri, Uscela, Laenin, Eninre, Zarece, Tibionis, Riredi, Riiser, Xexedi

"This planet is a tedious little planet."

Reinen is yet another one of those planets with an undeserved reputation for being "tedious" thanks in part to the Galactic Catalogue. Certainly your typical native of Reinen (or ''Reinlander'') can be quite grave and humorless when there is work to be done; however, few planets truly know how to unwind quite like Reinen does, and to those in the know, the great Neu BOorlin Bierfest is one of the most prestigious events in the Great Eight.

The Bierfest is an old tradition that goes back to the original colonists' roots on faraway Earth. It is held over the course of two weeks in the harvest season and features such attractions as carnival rides, local folk music, tasty traditional cuisine, and, of course, copious amounts of Reinenian Quuma-Beer. Though it lacks the alcoholic kick of much harder liquors popular elsewhere, it is commonly acclaimed by gourmets one of the smoothest and tastiest beverages in the Galaxy, consistently appearing in Top Ten Beverage lists compiled by great gastronomic and culinary experts from across space and attracting gourmet pilgrims from as far afield as Tianve to the festival. Quuma-Beer is one of Reinen's most lucrative exports, though most of the stock tends to be quickly bought up at a scandalous discount by nearby Xexedi for resale in its own high-price restaurants or consumption in exclusive executive drinking clubs.

The Bierfest is only one aspect (though certainly the most well-known) of Reinen's agrarian culture. The planet has little heavy industry - the vast majority of its few mineral resources have been largely stripped away to fuel the booming industries of Xexedi and Lerelace - and most manufactured goods are either imports or products built strictly for the domestic market by regional craft guilds. Most of Reinen's surface is given over to farmland, which mostly grows a variety of staple crops (including the quumatriticale grain used in Quuma Beer). The common Reinlander stereotype is one of an independent, small-time freeholder; though a significant portion of the land is now in the hands of corporations and the regional governments, the majority is still owned by individuals or family farms, and having a plot to call one's own is still a dream for many (though fewer than in previous generations). Reinlanders are also notably very civic-minded; indeed, the term 'Reinlander' itself is more one of convenience than allegiance, as most natives self-identify with their Land (province) or Kanton (township) before the planet itself. The planet is technically governed by a loose confederation of all the Lands; however, each Land is given broad leeway in making its own laws and regulations so long as they do not violate the Charter of Confederation. It's probably better to think of the Reinen Confederacy as an alliance or an economic association than as a government per se.

In general, life on Reinen is fairly relaxed compared to that on many other worlds of the Ooniverse. The locals are friendly, the beer is good, and the days go by at a leisurely pace. Perhaps for those used to a fast-paced life of adventure, Reinen is indeed "a tedious little planet"; however, for the veteran spacer looking for somewhere to retire, or at least a place to cool his heels, the planet is an ideal stopping point.

Specialist290 wrote:

If you see any errors in my German, either you can write them off as the product of a thousand years of divergent linguistic shift, or you can give me corrections.

Zarece was the first conolized gas planet ever. Colonized by felines of Reorte who became fed up with the constant Earthquakes on their home planet. With a combination of Zero-G technology and modern balloons large orbital cities were created that float in the higher layers of the atmosphere. Zarece exists of superdense gasses not yet fully understood. Famous Planets quote

The conolization of Zarece was performed by the refugees from Reorte with the technological help of the lizards of Tionisla. ''Conolization'' should not be confused with ''colonization'', a quite different process. Zarece, uniquely, enjoyed both. Nineteen large orbital cities were built, of a size enabling the cultivation of the jungles where the agricultural foodstuffs are produced and the furs hunted. These orbitals each drag several agricultural "floats" behind them, as they waft over the superdense gaseous "seas".

It has been argued by some of the savants of the University of Murraor that these superdense gases are not strictly gaseous, that they should rather be termed as plasma - that peculiar state which is liminal between gas and liquid and exists only at certain temperatures and pressures. No matter. What really counts is this: the ways in which the light of the sun is refracted through the lower levels is quite phenomenal - the nights on Zarece have to be seen to be believed. The shimmering coruscations of the colours, with sparkling motes and shimmering bands. The nightime cities with their tall, sparkling, slender towers and their lambent lower regions are legendarily spectacular.

This has proven to be inspirational for those of a poetic bent, and many of the local denizens engage in regular family poetry readings in their homes. Needless to say, Zarece has become a place of pilgrimage for feline poets, artists and those working in the imaginatory crafts. Imbibulation of appropriate intoxicants, followed by a sunset visit trip through the "ocean" to witness the views of an orbital city from a distance, have enabled many a feline to enter a trance-like state conducive to the alliterative allusions necessary for the production of poetic hyperbole.

Sadly, this is only true for those with cat's eyes. Other species, with less impressionable eyeballs, find they can see little of these supposed splendours, and the emotional burblings and unending recitals of the inhabitants become quite insufferable in no time at all. Tedious, in fact. Listening to the felines ooh and aah over dark, murky and dismal roilings of muck-tinted sludge has been likened to the joys of listening to a Happy Eye preacher in the fourth hour of his ecstatic sermonification.

Each city is quite independent of the others, hence the confederate nature of the government. In the past, this led inevitably to strife, and indeed, of the original nineteen cities only fifteen now remain (and seven of those were recolonized after their inhabitants were annihilated in battle). The others, sabotaged and riven by warfare and treachery, sank into the depths and, needless to say, have provided even more fuel to felines of artistic temperament. If one makes one's way to the southern pole, the edge of lost '''Khrawow''' can be seen in the murky depths when the sunlight is at the right angle. The '''Romance of Qleo''', the princess of sunken Khrawow and her doomed love affair with the Syndic of Basrir have acted as the catalyst for many an opera, symphony and ballad - especially in feline circles. Again, you need to be a cat to see anything in any of this.

'''Braathnir''', the largest city is home to the '''University of Murraor''', a renowned haven of feline poetic analysis and also of botanic research. The medical school has developed a rare expertise in treating mange and fur diseases, and exports its experts throughout the feline worlds - and some of the rodent planets too. Braathnir also contains the '''Hall of Heralds''', containing effigies of the various historic ambassadors of the floating cities from their more bellicose days. This is proudly shown to all visiting dignitaries and is on the guided tours. Again, if one is not a feline oneself, the experience can be rather ... tedious?

The city of '''Owmrah''' has a small colony of lobstoids who have been living there for several decades. Sent thither by the Witchspace Lobster itself, they preach to those around with gusto and enthusiasm, brandishing placards and declaiming with gay abandon from their podia in the marketplaces. Some of the local poets have written epics about the encounter between the fervent lobsters and the disinterested natives. One of Owmrah's tributary floats contains several stands of walnut trees whose wood is exported to the Aegidian Woodworks laboratory on Xexedi when problems with the Bemearan supply occur.

There are of course many smaller towns, which pay allegiance to the larger cities, dotted hither and thither about the planet. These are of less interest (if such a thing is possible!), but some contain small groups of crafts-cats with great expertise in such matters as wood-turning, dyeing, the creation by hand of stringed musical instruments and lastly games-board manufacturing (mostly from wood).