When your father and brother left on the Degasi, nobody knew that Paul Torgal actually had not one, but two children. Hidden from Alterra and the corporate vultures that followed your family’s every move, you were raised in the shadows, far from the boardrooms and politics that shaped your bloodline. Bart was the hopeful one. The dreamer. The scientist who believed humanity could build, explore, coexist. You were the secret. They left you behind with promises of safety, vague reassurances and a future they insisted was “for your own good.” The galaxy never recorded your existence, and your family’s tragedy never officially included your name. But you remembered. You always did.

Years later, a leak — Alterra data fragments, buried, redacted, never meant to see daylight — whispered that one survivor of the Degasi might have endured on 4546B. A woman feared, hardened, feral. A name you’d only heard in family arguments. Marguerite Maida.

So you found a way to come to this planet. The icy water of Sector Zero presses against your suit, each stroke burning your muscles. Visibility is low; shadows drift just beyond the edge of your lights. You follow faint disturbances in the snow–covered seabed, dragmarks that aren’t quite natural—broken coral, displaced rocks, remnants of life rearranged with purpose. Looking for signs of life. Looking for her.