Lokira

Archaeology is my most favorite of pastimes. Mysterious stones, weathered markings, ancient fossils, and even little arrowheads excite me to my core! I have a privilege many would dream of, so I work at my fullest in honor of those who can't! I view it like a story, something with a beginning, end, and all the flavor in its middle. Archaeology is fantastic, simple as that.
At least, I wish it was simple. Agony is inevitable. Some finds boil down to sheer confusion, unfinished tales from bygone eras. Incompleteness' curse grips all of archaeology, there's no avoiding that, but some reach a little too close to finality. Like missing puzzle pieces, insufficient cases like this enrage me to my core. I repeatedly grasp at every little straw, desperate for new outcomes despite the fact there rests no hope. I like believe it rhymes with the definition of insanity. Repetition. Desperation. Grief. I avoid it as much as possible.
That said, it's with a heavy heart I present this entry. Lokira is a stark example of cases gone cold, a trail whose dead-end reared its ugly head on the last few steps. I longingly wish for a conclusion to it's story, but decades of survey have come up empty-handed. For the sake of my sanity, I can not complete it. Perhaps some mythical being may dig up the answers, but us common folk are condemned to know that we don't know.
Lokira's beauty spites my rage. just minutes of watching helps me forget the tragedy below. Every off-and-on visit stings me with at least some awe, thanks to its striking palette of greens and blues. I've never seen Earth in person—and I doubt I will—so I assume this is the closest look I'll get at Humanity's cradle. I get why it's appealing.
Wishy-washy talk aside, Lokira is pretty marvelous, even at surface value. My first notes were of its atmosphere, whose contents raised my eyes. A thick blanket of ~95% carbon dioxide smothers this planet, which seems to heat it just above -20°C. Oxygen content stood near 5%, and the overall pressure exceeded 1.24x my native environment. The largest pain point was gravity, whose force was double that of Earth's. I knew I had to come prepared.
The climate was fairly chilly, though still tolerable, so I threw on thick clothing and of course a respirator. I like to think I am fit, but Lokira's two-fold gravity humbled every joint in my body. As was any task, walking was a chore, my longest journeys falling short of 10 kilometers. At some point, I donned a heavy-duty suit reserved for extreme climates, so missions lasted more than a few hours. From there, I embarked on the best and worst journey in memory.
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