51 Planets to See Before the Universe Collapses

crokovo (croh-koh-voh)

Scort Muggins, Human Year 3271:

One of the other less popular social posts by my father was from Crokovo. I wouldn’t have wasted the time investigating, but it was near Onumati. I thought the stop would be worth it, if only to cross off one more planet my father wasn’t on. 

Crokovons were a nomadic people out of necessity. Crokovo was dangerously close to its star and the surface of the planet would get up to temperatures of over 2000 degrees celsius. A Crokovon couldn’t survive the heat. They had to constantly be on the move around the planet, staying on the half in the shadows so they wouldn’t be cooked. Fortunately, the planet rotated slowly and the nights were six times as long as they were on Mars. Though a Crokovon had plenty of time to be on the move, they still had to find time to sleep. Their nomadic lifestyle choice wasn’t a very enjoyable one... and wasn’t much of a choice. 

The realities of constantly being on the move crept into the personal lives of the Crokovons as well. Knowing that they had to keep moving and could be separated at any moment, a Crokovon never made any ties to friends or family. My father would’ve felt very much at home on Crockovo.

The species traveled on four legs and had scaly blue skin that ruptured along their spine to make room for the spikes that jutted out. A very stubby tail popped out of their behind and moved back and forth rather quickly. Their head was large, wide, and curved forward along the edges making the shape of a concave cone. The bizarre trait evolved because of two reasons. The first reason was to block out the surrounding sounds from nearby Crokovons to enforce the solitary, nomadic lifestyle. The second - we realized after shouting at one for a few minutes - was because they were very hard of hearing. Their satellite-shaped heads focused sounds to the middle of their face which was where their singular ear was located. Two eyes were planted at the top of their face, but still inside the cone face so their peripherals were completely blocked. The chin edge of their flirked up heads would scoop food from the ground and drop it into their mouths at the bottom of their face. (See Figure 47.1)

The Crokovon that we were screaming at was named Orkutan, and it had been traveling alone for most of its life, as Crokovons tend to do. In fact, Orkutan repeatedly asked us to leave it alone, but we didn’t listen. Our nomadic lifestyle wasn’t a choice either. We had to go from planet to planet asking hundreds of questions to each species in order to find my father… and to write this socially relevant, existentially important, and generation defining blog. We followed Orkutan around for a few nights, I assume, although it was hard to tell in the darkness. Orkutan always threatened to leave us behind as soon as we fell asleep, so we took shifts keeping watch. 

At one point, Luskem saw another Crokovon and pointed it out to Orkutan, who wouldn’t have heard or seen it without our help. Orkutan stood dead in its tracks, shocked at who it saw. Its eyes lit up. It had been grumpy and rude to us, but Orkutan instantly warmed to this other Crokovon. Apparently, Orkutan happened to have been born at the same time and in the same place. Being childhood friends, the two caught up for a long while, presumably talking about constantly having to walk around. I didn’t think there would be much else to talk about. We didn’t want to snoop, but we could tell that Orkutan was glowing. I suggested that we settle in for the night. I could barely keep my eyes open, so Pleeft took the first shift keeping watch. The two Crokovons snuggled up with each other as my eyes shut.

Pleeft shook me awake. 

“Orkutan is making a run for it.”

I wouldn’t have called it a “run,” but I had barely slept and was in no mood to argue word choice. I couldn’t believe Orkutan was already on the move, leaving the other Crokovon behind. I got right in its face. 

“You can’t just leave without saying goodbye! That’s your friend… and lover I assume?”

“It’s the Crokovon way,” Orkutan replied. 

“It doesn’t have to be! You have to be on the run, sure, but you can be on the run together. Take them with you. Maybe you might get separated at some points, but you’ll always find your way back to each other. That’s how these things work. That’s how family works! You stay together!”

I realized I was screaming at Orkutan. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because I thought it wouldn’t hear me. I was really yelling at my father to turn around and go back to his wife and son. Not that it would make a difference now, but I wish I would’ve done it when he was leaving. Either way, Orkutan stopped moving for once and went back to talk with the other Crokovon. 

It was a much longer conversation than expected, and we all fell back asleep, not having gotten enough rest. I woke back up to a hint of light. The Crokovons were still talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. But that was when the rock rain began falling from the skies. That would make two planets in a row that we had to worry about rocks flirking falling from the sky, and it wasn’t because Scort’s ghost writer lacked creativity. There were no Onumatian volcanoes in sight. This was a different phenomenon. The other side of the planet was so hot that vaporized rock formed clouds. When the clouds cooled - such as when they reached the lower temperatures at the edge of the horizon - large pellets of solidified rock rocketed down from the hellish heavens. 

Pleeft, Luskem, and I ran immediately while yelling a warning at Orkutan and its hunny bunny. Pleeft rode on toast-bot, who could reach pretty incredible speeds for a machine made to toast. They sped away and didn’t turn around to stop for Luskem and I. Classic Pleeft. 

Orkutan was able to get away, but its Crokovon mate was soon buried by the rock rain. There was no time to mourn. I called my ship down which had been circling above us during our hikes on the planet. We dove onto the ship and released a net to grab the lonesome Crokovon below, running for its life. Before we were able to get Orkutan on board, the ship started taking damage from the hardened precipitation. A rock ripped through the net and Orkutan plummeted. Tumbling down a hill, Orkutan looked like it had gotten the head start that it needed to escape certain death. At least Orkutan had learned to love, which is much more than my father ever did. But I imagine the Crokovon wouldn’t be repeating that any time soon. 

It was clear that my father wouldn’t have spent any more time than he needed to on this planet. After the ship was decked by a few more dozen rock pellets, it was time to move on. We made it out of the atmosphere, hoping that we hadn’t taken too much damage from the unforgiving stonestorm. [Note: I’m coining the term “stonestorm” for this type of inclement weather.]

RATINGS

Hospitality — 1/10
Food — 2/10
Sights — 3/10
Activities — 9/10 (great hiking)
Family Friendly — 1/10
Precipitation — Dangerous