Having an entire sea-going scientific vessel suddenly appear out of nowhere is not an everyday occurrence. One can only stay indoors and hope it goes away for so long. When it happens in what passes for Dr Magnusson's front lawn, after having unwelcome visitors only a short time ago, it's a little hard to ignore, and it's practically his duty as the facility's senior scientific personnel to inspect this recent arrival.

Oh sure, they put Barney in charge, but that's for all the inconsequential matters. Logistics, administration, personnel placement. This is science.

So, with a small armed escort in tow, he takes a walk outside and into the Aperture research vessel, his knees protesting every inch of the climb up the gangplank. "So," he mutters with a grunt as he ducks though the entrance, "This is the fabled Borealis, then." He does not sound outwardly impressed, but he can help wondering what lost technological finds are yet to be made within the long-lost ship.

Dr Magnusson stands in the corridor next to one of the many metal hatch-like doors throughout the base waiting for Gordon to catch up. As he punches in the keypad combination to open it he explains to Gordon, "Freeman, Striders are coming. A single one of those damn things could shoot down our rocket. We don't dare launch until all Striders are destroyed."

He walks through into a corridor running parallel to the adjoining one. The area behind a wire metal gate has been repurposed into storage room and workspace where among the crates and shelves a number of men are tinkering with several oblong metallic objects.

On a white board attached to a wall in the immediate area there is among partially erased markings and a supposedly relevant set of equations has been drawn in a rather simplistic style a plan involving 1) Grabbing the ball object, 2) Aiming it and launching it at 3) a larger stick figure Strider, at which point presumably a gun is involved (It's not a very detailed depiction).

"Now, you've proved yourself capable, and the staff seem to respect you. Therefore..." He walks over to a glass-fronted case displaying one of the objects that, with closer examination, as well as being about the size of a pumpkin is encircled with two rows of short spikes and horizontal blue-lit bars that blink in no particular sequence. "I'm putting defense of White Forest, and this ingenious new weapon of mine, in your hands."