LEGS: Yup. There it is. One mega-typhoon prevention system, twelve hundred kilometers high, fourteen hundred kilometers long, and, well... covered in plants.
I bet this place has a dozen of these things, at least one for each ring of struts, so the Coriolis superstorms never have a chance to form.
MAC: Wait... I can't see the edge of it, and you're asking me to believe there are more of these?
LEGS: You weren't with us for the buuthandi. Engineering feats lose their punch after you've popped the containment system somebody built around a star.