Magallan

First expedition to the endless icefield, 25 days from the closest research station on foot:

I just dug a tree branch out of the snow.

The exact data is in the data sheets, but to briefly describe it, I guess it's about as long as my arm.

I can conclude it went through a really long petrification process. The one I'm holding must have had 90% of its original volume dissolved away before its petrification.

When you think of it this way, it must have been a very big chunk of wood!

I guess... it was probably as thick as the trunk of that tree the other day?

In that case, maybe the whole tree was as big as the Rhine Lab headquarters building!

Whoa, that's amazing!

It doesn't seem very heavy; I'll try to take it back whole. I only hope that the Ursus police at the border aren't too hard on me.

Second expedition to the endless tundra, 28 days from the closest research station on foot:

I'm taking shelter from the snowstorm outside. It doesn't look like I'll get anywhere today, so I'll stay here and try to rest up.

I'm all out of drones, too. If I'd kept to the plan, I would've gone back as soon as I lost one of my drones.

In normal circumstances, I should have theoretically been able to last a month and a half in the tundra, but the situation here is way too brutal. A month is about as long as I can make it...

If I don't find anything once the snowstorm calms down a little, I'll, Hey, you guys know what I found?!

A field of flowers right inside the cave!

These plants get their water and nutrients from the ice here. They don't grow very tall, but they look like they're doing very well.

I am taking an entire plant back in a culturing jar. I'll do some preliminary analysis back at the research station, and then bring it back to Rhine Lab.

I'll try to keep going for two more days once the storm is over, then I'll go back.

If I act on impulse again, it might end up killing me.

Second expedition to the endless tundra, 30 days from the closest research station on foot:

There is an entire block of Originium ice crystal standing in front of me. Could be three times as tall as me!

It's a whole diamond shaped block, so if it wasn't for the snowstorm here, it'd be reflecting light in all directions. That'd look so cool!

It's a shame to just let it sit here among the pile of rocks and snow.

I've marked down its rough location and taken a picture. I hope I'll be able to find it again next time by following the locator beacon.

Given the implications of the crystal being in one intact piece, I couldn't possibly have taken any samples from it. Thankfully, there are more than enough shards lying around that I can bring back to analyze. They'll last me a whole year.

That's the expedition's objective accomplished. Now it's time to go home!

I wonder if I'll come across that police officer I met last time.

Third expedition to the endless tundra, 15 days from the closest research station on foot:

I'm taking a different route this time just like HQ suggested.

15 days into this route, however, I got stopped!

It's an official Messenger from Ursus.

He told me there's a restricted military area up ahead and I shouldn't go any further.

I showed him the expedition permit I got from the Ursus government, their confirmation of my expedition route, as well as the commission letter for me to map this area to show that I have a right to come through here.

He wouldn't listen and ordered me to turn back, even claiming he has the authority to cancel these documents on the spot.

The words he used had a really strict tone to them, but the way he said it sounded like he was just asking me to leave.

I have a feeling that whatever lies ahead is definitely worth probing, but I also know it's not a good idea to pick a fight with a foreign official while I'm on an expedition in their territory.

I told him I understood and gave him a pack of scalecis jerky.

He calmed down right away, and said he'd be willing to help me out on my way back.

According to the forecast, there will probably be another huge snowstorm the next two days, so I really welcome his help.

I may not have been able to complete my survey's objective this time, but the results I have aren't so bad.

What's more, I made myself a new friend.

There's some black snow falling from the sky. Is there going to be a Catastrophe soon?

I picked up a snowflake while he wasn't looking.

I hope I'll find something interesting out of this.

I still remember how my first university lecture ended up with us wandering the school building.

We were in the classroom at first. Our professor had an amazing reputation, so there we were, waiting for him to enter, introduce himself, and begin teaching, that was a 'class' as we knew it.

But once our 'professor' came in, he told us to pack our stuff and follow him. All the students did as they were told, and I was no exception.

The whole way, he was telling us about the makeup of Columbia's geology, the manufacturers that made prospecting machines, and various archeological findings, but every time we arrived at a statue or a bust or the like, he'd stop to introduce the next of these historical greats and school alumni that had made outstanding contributions to Columbian expeditionary causes.

Finally, once he'd made a full circle and brought us back to the classroom, the course's real professor decided to show up. He sent off the old guy, introduced himself to everyone, and then announced that his first class was over.

You should've heard my classmates whispering. Was it a prank? Was it some kind of school tradition? Some figured the old schmuck went out of his way to put it on, with all the power he had.

Not a single person cared about anything he'd just told us.

Not a one.

......

One day, I was eating lunch by a little brook on campus when I came across the man by accident. Moreover, he seemed to recognize me from back then, and mentioned how I was taking notes so diligently.

So I asked him, was he a professor at the school? And his response was no.

'I just give a little dirty money to the place,' he told me.

It was only then that I realized the man in front of me was on the school's Board of Governors.

He said he'd retired by now, handed all his property down to his children, and had nothing to do but occasionally come to the school and stroll around.

He asked me what I planned to do in future, and I said I was going to be a scientific explorer. 'Nice. You do that for a couple of years, then you retire as a senior consultant for some non-profit environmental org. Good plan, young lady.'

I said I planned to remain an explorer, until I was physically unable to. It seemed the moment I finished saying that, something in his eyes lit up.

'Then I wish you luck, explorer. Once you get results... remember to come back, you hear? Tell the next generation the story of their predecessors.'

Then he left, just like that, and we never crossed paths again.

Before I actually took on this career, I thought the whole thing was just a governor giving a student some words of encouragement. However, now I totally understand the hopes, and the expectations, that those words entailed.

Nobody ever made a scientific achievement in one shot. People like to only remember talent, and attribute everything to miracle-workers.

But history is very, very long, and filled with all sorts of people giving everything they've got, all so one subject or another isn't forgotten and left behind.

Our lives are finite, and the new generation's always learning from the ground up. It falls to us to keep accumulating and synthesizing, endlessly, to lay the bricks for those who follow us.

I don't know if my findings will be enough to change this land.

I just know that whatever I discover will be passed on to whoever comes next.

They won't need to fall where I fell, or bleed where I bled.

They can go further than I did, see further ahead.

Even just the tiniest step can be enough to make new history.

That's the day I look forward to., Magallan, foreword to the Instructional Soaring Dragon Drone development files