Proxus-VII

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Object Name: PROXUS-VII (PROCK-sus SEH-VEN)

Celestial Classification: Class C Planet, Rust/Junkyard

Planetary Size: ~35167.8678912 kmd or 2.76 times the size of LE

Number of Moons: Orbiting Debris Field with Indeterminate Amount of Refuse

Rotational Period: 22 ESH (22 hours per day)

Orbital Period: 387 PRY (planetary rotations per year)

Atmospheric Conditions: Category I-II

Population Size and Diversity: +3,000,000,000 Inhabitants (Miscellaneous Species, Progani)

Technology Level: Level II-V (Miscellaneous Species, Progani)

Proxus-VII is a desolate, rust covered world ripe for scavengers and plunderers and pitiful for hopeful colonists and migrants. Its medium-sized, metallic surface is covered in seas of scrap metal and broken-down parts of machinations of a long-forgotten age. Its large lakes of flammable gases, volatile fuels, and acidic oils pollute any and all water sources, and Proxus-VII’s acid rainstorms make it difficult to subsist on the planet’s surface without appropriate protective gear or crop rotation. As such, many of the planet’s inhabitants have scattered themselves across Proxus-VII’s oxidized surface, hoping to scavenge enough materials to carve out a meager living—or cobble together a vessel functional enough to break orbit. 

Proxus-VII is a rust-covered world that is a scrounger’s paradise and a survivalist’s hell. Every foreseeable section of the planet’s surface is covered in oily residues, scrap metal, and waste of civilizations long forsworn or forgotten. The planet’s only source of liquid sustenance, Lake Zylggäegyg (zil-GAY-gig), has long been contaminated by streams of oil, coolant, fuel, and other toxic substances, rendering the area virtually uninhabitable. Similarly, the rust forests of Zylbrággá (zil-BRAH-gah), which were once rolling hills with fertile soil rich with plant life, have been reduced to metropolitan graveyards. In short, the entirety of the planet is one massive mechanical graveyard where all things technological go to die. 

Just outside of Proxus-VII’s upper atmosphere orbits a planet-sized debris field. Colloquially known as “The Explorer’s Terror,” this large cloud of garbage, wrecked ships, and asteroid-like remains chokes the planet’s skies. This makes traversal incredibly difficult and unpredictable for any vessel entering Proxus-VII’s atmosphere. Unless a spaceship is big enough—or has enough shielding to withstand continuous punishment—it is highly unlikely that one will land on Proxus-VII’s without suffering damage. Furthermore, if one manages to find a safe enough landing space on Proxus-VII, they risk having their ship looted or stripped for parts the moment it is left unattended. As such, whenever one makes an approach towards Proxus-VII, they best bring a sizable landing party specifically tasked with navigating and protecting their vessel. Otherwise, any pilot risks permanently stranding themselves on a world that only those with the tenacity, adaptability, and mechanical expertise survive.

Progani (pro-GAH-nee)

There are multiple scavenging species on Proxus-VII, but none are more versatile nor prosperous than the Progani. Reclusive beings with a keen eye for mechanical parts and a knack for inventing, the Progani are among the Galaxy’s most efficient technicians. With piercing yellow eyes, lanky features, and slender frames, the Progani cloak themselves in protective clothing that obscures almost all of their features. Interestingly, though Proxus-VII’s noxious atmosphere and toxic terrain makes it one of the most difficult planets to survive on, the Progani appear to love their inhospitable surroundings. Their inherent proclivity towards all things mechanical, coupled with their apparent resistance towards poisons and toxins, make the Progani more adept at living in hostile worlds. This makes their society of rummagers, scrap-hunters and artificers well-suited for life on Proxus-VII’s surface.

Progani culture is an enigma to many intergalactic sociologists. Though the Progani are well-adapted to their livelihood, it seems that they have a preference for self-augmentation. Many experienced Progani collectors sport additional mechanical limbs alongside their standard protective equipment of heavy-duty respirators, face masks, and thick hoods and vests. When questioned about these additions, their responses were almost universal: these new additions onto one’s body were commonplace and “natural”. Moreover, Progani views towards the mechanical replacement of lost limbs are similarly favorable; many Progani scrap-hunters, especially those more experienced or well-worn, wear one or many mechanical prosthetics limbs. As such, it stands to reason that the Progani have attached some sort of significance to personal augmentation and/or mechanical replacement. Those featuring more mechanical parts on their bodies are championed by Progani society, rather than shunned.

Outside of their preference for self-augmentation, little is known about Progani culture. The Progani appear to organize themselves in several localized tribes or clanships, though the lineage patterns of these groups are unclear. What is certain is Progani scavengers frequently fight each other over valuable pieces of technology. Kinship and fraternal relationships appear key to these interactions, as result of these skirmishes is often related to the personal augmentations possessed by either side. It also appears that the number of Progani combatants directly influences infighting over valuables. There are records of Progani groups ganging together a single individual, overpowering them through sheer numbers regardless of available weaponry. Regardless, observations of Progani gender norms and sexual behaviors/expectations have been extremely limited as Progani protective garb makes each of their individual appearances rather androgynous. 

However, it does appear that Progani males tend to augment themselves more heavily and with more invasive additions, including replacing parts of their jaws, respiratory systems, and eyes with mechanical prosthetics. Though it seems these replacements are far from arbitrary and indeed enhance their user’s abilities, they also serve the purpose of attracting potential mates. It appears that the use of mechanical prosthetics serves multiple purposes within Progani society, with helping gather valuable parts out of wreckage piles and attracting potential romantic partners being the most obvious. 

Miscellaneous

The remainder of Proxus-VII’s inhabitants are amalgamations of other mechanically inclined species from across the Galaxy. One of Proxus-VII's most notable non-native species are synthetic creatures. Usually the remains of series C-1 Construction Robots, these damaged synthetics once roamed the large cities and factories on Proxus-VII's western hemisphere. These aged robots, now separated from their Central Controlling Computer Core (also called a Central Intelligence Unit), wander across Proxus-VII in the vain hope of encountering others of their kind—or someone they perceive their superior officer. 

However, their now aimless nature does not make them any less of a threat, as the combative restrictions typically included within their programming have apparently been erased due to their separation from their central intelligence unit(s). As a result, when engaging with any of these C-1 Units, it is best to minimize one’s aggressive mannerisms and attempt to seem as little a potential threat as possible. It has been reported that when threatened, any of these C-1 Units will brutally fight back without any concern for any potential damage it could receive. Therefore, attempting to bargain or reason with one of these rogue robots once threatened is futile, as their desire for self-preservation supersedes any previous obligations for protecting or honoring organic life.