The navigation equipment playing tricks on Akasora, he decides to debug its systems, digging deep into its databanks to discover what worlds it has hidden. To do access this, he uses the following haiku:

Silent circuits hum,
Binary ballet unfolds,
Worlds in code unlocked.

Willy Minmax takes his profits from Anagnastou and gambles on a destination about which he's heard whispered exciting tales:  VENTURA.  Will he be able to purchase Paraíbite there?  The possibility of gaining paranormal abilities is perhaps too much to even dare dream about.  As it turns out, Willy could buy a small sample of Paraíbite, but only at the cost of selling his spaceship and its entire contents to boot.  He decides that the risk of losing everything is too great, since even a superpowered person on Ventura would not necessarily be special enough to easily get that money back.  Maybe someday when he's really rich, he can return to Ventura for another chance at metahumanity.

Akasora's navigational equipment failing him, he relies on instructing his vessel to recalibrate through ... of course, a haiku!

Starlight whispers lost,
Cosmic dance of wires entwined,
Recalibrate fate.

Willy Minmax makes his way to icy Anagnostou, where citizens must "freeze" whenever the Father is present.  Attempting to fool the Father with a hologram seems like an unnecessary risk, but there's no law against pranking one's neighbors!  Willy convinces a few that arranging a holoemitter in just the right place might convince a target that the Father is approaching, causing them to also remain motionless until they catch on to the gag.  Watching the fun from a nearby window (and a few negotiable galactic bonds) is all the payment that Willy requires.

Akasora sets a course for NONAGAMA and his scan reveals the following:

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.

His finely-tuned neural nets translate this into the following haiku:

Debts in sweet speeches,
Ruined by unwise choices,
Blame echoes through halls.

In orbit around Orla, Willy Minmax does not succeed in selling many holoemitters, because most of the artists in residence do not have resources to spare.  They are enthusiastic about the capability to record Orla's splendor, though, and perhaps convey just a fraction of the ecstasy it inspires when seen up close.  Willy sees only the profit to be made from selling this image, and the amusing potential of his customers surprising others with a hologram so convincing it makes one want to pack their things and move to Orla.  He takes his time to produce an image of surpassing fidelity, then ponders his next destination.

The Sunderlish entrepreneur Willy Minmax decides to try taking his business and his native heritage to the stars.  He purchases a used transport and loads it up with a full supply of his fabulously successful invention, the portable holoemitter.  This gadget allows anyone to project a lifelike image of any object from an affordably-priced device that fits in the palm of one's hand.  On Sunderland, it has been the source of countless pranks.  A predatory animal can appear almost anywhere.  Ghosts and monsters are also good for jump-scares.  More devious pranksters have contrived to put the holoemitter in a victim's bathroom, where it subsequently presents an image of their mother at perhaps an embarrassing moment.  Willy has sold millions of these devices, but the market on his home planet is saturated, so he needs to move on.  The poets of Orla seem to be potential customers, so off he goes.  Arriving at the massive gas giant, he acknowledges the planet's beauty, but the ever-practical practical joker does not succumb to its siren call.  Instead, it gives him a perfectly wonderful awful idea.

[From rwinder]

Consider the world of TERRIS…

TERRIS is so distant from its sun that its surface is almost entirely snow and ice. Its hardy inhabitants are firm believers in democracy, but their politics are of a very agressive sort. Every citizen has one vote, which must be cast according to the will of the last person to defeat that citizen in a government-scheduled martial arts tournament.  There is therefore a great deal of societal emphasis on learning how to fight. Hardly anyone will publicly admit to having an interest in any science not directly related to their combative skills. In secret, however, many people of Terris learn other ways to improve their world, and they teach these subjects to others in private. It is considered impolite to wonder who provides the hydroponic gardens and fusion reactors necessary to support life on Terris.

The martial arts academia of TERRIS have promoted the discipline of encoding secret knowledge, encapsulated in the elegant form of haiku. Its masters study their opponents and craft a haiku that captures their ki. It has been used by many a tournament winner to turn the tide of a bout, the rival's haiku spoken before a final blow is landed.

The spymasters of TERRIS now seek to apply this at a grander scale, sending spies to other worlds to understand them and return the haiku that capture's ki of an entire world.

Thus a single pilot known only as Akasora has been sent on a pod for the journey that may cover many lives. As such, Akasora is secretly an artificial intelligence in an android body, given rigorous neural training to take all he observes and transmit back the haiku that will grant TERRIS advantage over the many worlds in the galaxy.

Unbeknownst to his masters, Akasora has already captured his homeworld’s ki in just such a haiku:

Frozen ballots cast,
Warrior's dance shapes the vote,
Secrets beneath snow.

He sets out to ŠENAUER which requires no great expenditure of fuel, arriving there, his study of the planet reveals…

ŠENAUER retains aspects of a feudal society even though it is far more urban than agricultural. What land does remain under cultivation belongs to just three noble families with roots in Šenauer's ancient history. Each extended family is quite inbred, and they have taken their characteristic features as signs of their nobility. Hence the Brada clan strives to breed for ever more prominent chins, the Uši family aims to have the world's longest ears, and the Obrve pride themselves on extravagently large eyebrows. Appreciation for these features is not universal, however, and indeed Šenaueri frequently insult each other with rude nicknames referencing their exaggerated parts. One trait that well serves any inhabitant of Šenauer is a (metaphorically) thick skin.

Through his neural pathways, the ki of ŠENAUER emerges as:

Feudal traits adorned,
Exaggerated grandeur,
Mockery veiled thick.

Now that all sectors of the galaxy have been populated, I'd like to invite others to play along by voyaging among these worlds.  BoardGameGeek users may contact me at nerdsholmferret, and One Post Wonder users may leave a comment with alternate contact information.  You may specify your favorite colors and/or a character name by which you wish to be known in the game.

Here are the rules:  Each turn will begin with a starting planet and a hand of five cards that are identified like this:  "3 * 23 MALMALIYA"  The first number is a fuel value, and the second number is the two-digit identifier of the planet's galactic sector.  If you have the card for a planet that is in an adjacent sector to your current one, you may use it as your destination provided you also spend fuel cards sufficient for the journey.  Star Charter rules prohibit intentionally overspending, but you may treat this as a voluntary challenge.  You may also optionally describe how you're getting to your new destination and what you plan to do there.  Are you bringing any trade goods?  I haven't specified many, so feel free to make stuff up.  If your cards do not permit you to reach a new planet, you're stuck on your current one for the time being, but that's an opportunity to really get creative about what you're doing during your layover besides discarding as many cards as you like.  Making friends?  Starting a business?  Trying to change their system of government?  There is an in-game goal of being the most effective voyager, but mostly this is about having fun.  I hope to see you around the galaxy!

RODÉNGH-SAIÀ is tempest-tossed world that attracts masses of seekers and strivers from many distant places.  It is not the power of their skies that calls people, but the power of their dreams.  Rodéngh-Saiàns have frankly established the worship of wealth as their civic religion.  Anyone who is rich is presumed to be talented and hardworking and virtuous.  Anyone who is poor may perhaps be lacking in one or more of those areas, but they can still dream.  If they are able to book passage to Rodéngh-Saià, they will find attestations to wealth and dreams of wealth decorating every door.  Those ornaments may be updated and augmented, but they are never removed until death.  Then, another takes possession of the door and the rooms behind it, and immediately places their own display.

ÇIFTLIĞI is an ocean planet ruled by the descendants of Architect Yusuf the First.  He built the first permanent structures on Çiftliği by importing caisson equipment and constructing a factory with foundations on the sea floor.  His team was then able to continue building using native materials.  Yusuf was uninterested in the more artistic aspects of architecture, so his factories were drab and purely functional.  His successors have expressed interest in beautification, to attract more residents to their aquatic world.  Artists capable of working underwater to produce decorations that will withstand the action of the tides are cordially invited to immigrate to Çiftliği.

POMACEA is an advanced urban civilization with an effective democratic system of government.  In many respects they are admirable, and they are even envied by others who live in the Quast sector.  They are, however, obsessed with presenting idealized outward appearances to hide what they presumably perceive as flaws.  Their vast cities are bordered by gleaming skyscrapers, connected at their top floors by translucent netting that largely conceals the urban interior.  Official tourism personnel very politely insist on showing their charges all of the many shops and attractions in the gateway spires, and fiercely protect the privacy of their fellow citizens who live and work elsewhere.  They also guard their own privacy, by always wearing masks that cover their faces.  When Pomaceans communicate with others via teleconferencing, they either use computer-generated avatars or transmit audio only.  What lies beneath those perfect masks?  Identical clones?  Laughable mutations?  Or nothing out of the ordinary at all?

CIMARON is a desert planetoid founded in the distant past by schismatics from Horelli, according to historical records on that nearby world.  According to the Cimaronners themselves, they were brought here by friendly aliens who wanted to preserve them from the harm they faced on their original homeworld.  To commemorate this event and demonstrate their continued resolve to endure the harsh environment of Cimaron, they regularly fly aircraft with bright lights that mimic the original landing ships.  They also customarily wear costumes inspired by the purported appearance of the aliens.  These include a garment made of reflective fabric, gloves with extra fingers, and headgear that resembles a colander.  (It is not considered impolite to actually use this for straining food as long as it is properly cleaned.)  Outsiders should NOT pretend to be aliens for a laugh, as the Cimaronners do not have a sense of humor about this.