The Breathless Jewel of Industrial Precision
Wochiers orbits its pale F-type sun as the seventh child in a mostly unremarkable system but there is nothing mundane about the world itself. Cloaked in a dense, toxic atmosphere composed of ammonium chloride and potassium ferricyanide[1], Wochiers is at once a marvel of science and a monument to human endurance. With a crushing sea-level pressure exceeding four bars, the very air becomes a weapon to the unprepared. The surface of the planet is largely uninhabitable — exposed areas offer no quarter to native life, and even momentary unprotected exposure can prove fatal to most species.
Yet out of this forbidding crucible, civilisation has taken root.
The native population — numbering approximately seven hundred million and comprising Humans, Vargr, and Aslan — lives almost exclusively in high-altitude enclaves and subterranean complexes carved into the mountain ranges that stretch like the ribs of a sleeping titan. These fortified settlements provide breathable atmospheres, thermal stability, and social infrastructure in a world that otherwise forbids comfort.
The capital and largest population center, Wochiers Landing, sits nestled high in the mountains. Other settlements — Rouseau, Ginush, Gagamburg, and Kumaland[2] — dot the peaks and valleys, interconnected through grav-tram corridors and subterranean arteries. Within these cavernous cities lie meticulously maintained hydroponics caves — sanctuaries of cultivated green in an otherwise sterile world. Tradition demands that all offworld visitors bring a living plant as tribute to these life-gardens. Fortunately, the starport gift shop maintains a stock of suitable offerings[3].
Wochiers thrives not in spite of its environment, but because of it. The world's extreme pressure and exotic atmospheric composition make it ideal for industrial-scale crystal synthesis. These crystals are refined for use in precision optics, advanced weaponry, and deep-space sensors — many of which are vital to the Imperial Navy. The engineering complexes that support this industry operate deep within pressure-stabilised facilities and are guarded as tightly as Imperial data vaults.
Mining and processing dominate the economy, with specialised work crews trained to handle delicate machinery in sealed conditions. Agriculture is limited entirely to hydroponics and bio-engineered crops adapted for cave farming. The planet imports most luxuries and exports raw crystal, refined industrial components, and precious data harvested from environmental studies.
Wochiers is governed by a charismatic oligarchy under the leadership of Viscount Maren Aella, a distant cousin to Archduke Norris and an appointed Imperial noble. Although the planet functions as a semi-autonomous colony, its government is effectively under Imperial control. The rule of law here is absolute. Weapons of any kind are forbidden. Personal privacy is a myth — citizens and visitors alike are subject to random inspections, data scans, and identity checks. Surveillance is pervasive, justified as a necessity in maintaining order in the face of both environmental and societal dangers. The law level is extreme. Any breach of protocol is met swiftly with fines, detainment, or — on rare occasions — exile to the surface.
Despite its industrial focus, Wochiers lags technologically. Grav-vehicles represent the peak of civilian tech, and most settlements operate under strict rationing of advanced materials. The starport is rated Class E, offering little more than unrefined fuel and emergency maintenance. There are no shipyards, and ship crews are advised to bring their own provisions.
The planet does, however, house an orbital highport, an uncommon luxury for an E-rated facility. Built to mitigate the danger of surface docking, Wochiers Highport floats in synchronous orbit above the planet, serving as both a cargo relay and customs checkpoint. Starships are required to dock here first; all arrivals are contacted within ten minutes by the System Defense Squadron, who conduct standard identification and security sweeps before permitting descent. Shuttle transfers ferry goods and passengers to the surface under strict supervision. Surface ports remain under local jurisdiction, and visitors are warned that planetary law applies immediately upon departure from the highport.
The Traveller's Aid Society classifies Wochiers as an Amber Zone. Between the lethal atmosphere, rigid surveillance state, and unpredictable industrial hazards, adventurers are advised to proceed with caution. While danger may not be obvious, it is ever-present — woven into the very environment, law code, and economy of this strange world.
