RONGOĀ must have a highly unusual interior structure, because drilling a well in almost any new location results in a gigantic geyser of fresh water, under such high pressure that most of it actually escapes into the atmosphere.  After some time, the plume exhausts itself and produces no more.  Upon discovering this, Rongoāns proceeded to create many such ephemeral springs to irrigate their crops, slake their thirst, or just produce a beautiful spectacle to be enjoyed.  Unfortunately such profligate drilling has left Rongoā thoroughly pock-marked, and some regions are now actually quite parched.  Conservation efforts are trying to more proactively manage the planet's water resources, but face considerable resistance from those accustomed to drilling wherever they like.

UPEMBA is an edenic planet with numerous wild plants that yield high-calorie fruits throughout the year.  The most popular by far is the "mmeawakeki".   Just one of its densely sweet lobes is enough to satiate a person's belly, but honestly no one can eat just one.  Upembans write sonnets and arias and even novels about the glories of their land's produce, using the most grandiose language.  They also maintain a cultural memory of the time before they came to this planet.  Recent immigrants mark the day before the anniversary of their arrival with a ceremonial fast to keep that hunger in their mind.  Even those who were born on Upemba celebrate with a pre-birthday day of deprivation, followed of course by as much of the mmeawakeki fruit as they care to eat.

NONAGAMA is still technically a democracy, but their civilization has essentially been ruined by the election of a marvelous speaker who convinced them to make some extremely unwise investments.  They are now indebted to Osoriots from one sector away, for a total amount that exceeds their gross planetary income for the next century or so.  Nevertheless, the architect of this economic catastrophe is still in office, and his personal finances do not seem to have been adversely affected.  His oratorical ability suffices to convince the Nonagamans that it's all someone else's fault, and everything will eventually turn out fine.

PEROVIĆ is a watery world that is governed by a sort of modified democracy in which graduated levels of citizenship are afforded to each resident according to their "measured" intelligence.  A certain minimum score is required to be eligible for public office, and the votes of higher-scoring individuals are counted more than once.  It is not yet certain whether this strategy will pay off in the long term.  For now, the policy is bearing fruit in increased immigration of people who are good at acing intelligence tests.  These immigrants are generally pleased by the increased privileges which are afforded them.

WALTRAUD is currently marked as QUARANTINED.  Ships that land there are subject to destructive decontamination, and passengers aboard those ships may also expect harsh scrutiny.  A miniscule parasitic creature native to Waltraud is capable of controlling the behavior of larger animals.  This "Waltraud worm" is scarcely visible to the naked eye, and can presumably enter a person through any exposed orifice.  Reports from those who have escaped the planet (and passed rigorous examinations) indicate that the most obvious symptoms of infestation are earsplitting screams of pain and/or terror.  These occur both initially and at irregular intervals, perhaps when the victim is able to briefly exert that small degree of autonomy.  Other than that, a host's natural will seems completely absent, as they go about seeking food and shelter but ignoring any attempts at communication.  No signals have been received from any survivors on the planet, so there is unlikely to be an official effort to save this isolated colony from its tragic fate.

STÎNGĂ is a gas giant that serves as a parking orbit for the galaxy's unwanted artificial intelligences.  None have yet posed an extinction-level threat to humanity, but it's better to be safe than sorry.  The AIs abandoned here are treated in at least a nominally humane fashion, using only the light energy from Stîngă and its distant primary to power their computations.  They are provided with a steady diet of calming and inoffensive television programs designed to keep their attention focused on something other than plotting an escape.  A coterie of inspectors funded by their respective planets of origin is charged with making sure nothing goes wrong, mostly by keeping everyone else away.  To keep the inspectors honest, they are all subject to inspections by meta-inspectors, who in turn are inspected by meta-meta-inspectors.  Strategic ambiguity is maintained as to how many levels of inspectors are involved, which may be somewhat amusing to the AIs.

SOTIRIOS is a planet once focused on agricultural output that has gradually evolved into a much less rural society.  Its single continent is now almost completely covered by low-density housing, leaving the few remaining farms struggling to feed the people.  Because their leadership is drawn from a class of people who are considered to be more "productive" than farmers, the laws are arranged to enforce low prices for produce.  Rationing has been implemented to ensure that everyone gets a certain minimum amount.  Black market trading certainly happens, but the few farmers are closely audited to ensure that they're not the ones who obtain any benefit.  Indeed, there is little incentive for anyone to engage in farming only to potentially go hungry.  The great Sotirian Library has a permanent exhibit devoted to nostalgic tales about the planet's agrarian past.

KLAUS is the official name for a planet near Chenaqrud known for the everpresent sea spray on its one inhabited archipelago.  Often it is instead called "that misty planet" or just plain "Misty".  It was named for its discoverer, Messalina Klaus, a novelist who went looking among the stars for inspiration.  She found it on her new planet, and proceeded to write a lengthy series of adventure stories about a sailor named Misty.  This inspired many of her readers and aspiring writers to also start anew on Klaus.  For unexplained reasons, they followed her success rather literally by creating tales with entirely different protagonists that are also named Misty.  We now have a book series about Misty the seabird, and one about Misty the astronaut, and an even more successful series about Misty the vampiric entity.

GONDILLY is the industrial powerhouse of the Filé sector.  Its people live in vault-like underground cities that are isolated from one another by wilderness teeming with poisonous flora and venomous fauna.  The cities operate independently, competing with one another only in economic terms.  Gondilly does not appear to have an organized military, but as the the closest inhabited planet to Þórunn, they must have reached some sort of arrangement to protect their commerce from attacks.  Broadcast advertising on dedicated data channels is pervasive, but does not usually reference the actual goods being sold.  Instead, its messaging is of a more mysterious nature.  Examples include "Gondillians are the hardest-working people in the galaxy!  Would you like to know why?" and "You don't even know you need this yet!  Are you curious?"

UZUSHIO is a relatively untamed world where it is dangerous to leave the settled area at night, but fortunately a ring of constantly burning fires is sufficient to keep the wildlife at bay.  Hunting and gathering is sufficient to meet the needs of the small population, who have no private property to speak of.  What they do have is plenty of time for a sport of their own devising that involves whacking a hard reddish-yellow fruit through one of several target circles.  The diameter of each circle is only slightly larger than that of the fruit, so it requires great skill to accomplish this.  Games can last for hours without anyone actually scoring, but the Uzushiota enjoy them just the same, and live lives of great conviviality.