White reverts to starlit black. Neptune's deep blue brightens the darkness, with Corpus stations dotting its sky. I crouch on a landing pad in the ghost ship Kore Dim, waiting to be ejected out into space.

"We haven't been detected yet," the cat by my feet says, "You ready, Loi?"

My curls bounce as I nod, "Yep!"

(With an influx of parts from a shiny new Corpus drone, the station is back on its feet. The endless list of things to fix is a little shorter today, and it's time to start building a new life.)

"Then go get 'em, kid."

I laugh (I'm older than you are!), springing into the air as the gravity drops to zero. Vacuums empty the bay of atmosphere, and then the giant doors above me slide open. Small bands concealed beneath my ragged clothes control my flight, and pump energy through my personal life support module. Curled wire nestles inside my pockets, interspersed with a few platinum nuggets.

(This is much easier, with a friend. With access to the vault data, Kit was able to help me with repairs that he never could before. And it's incredibly calming to have him here now, handling the Kore Dim while I focus on learning this new face. For the first time in a long, long time, I feel… good.)

As I enter open space, piercing light spins over the Kore Dim's outstretched guns, engulfing the ship for a split second before it vanishes.

(It's had a few more modifications to make it Void-compliant. It's completely worthless as a disguise now, but it can still serve as transportation.)

I angle toward a particular Corpus station, and fly. Everything seems to hold still for a moment, and then the station zooms toward me. I latch onto a wall, and then slip my feet over it, turning the wall into a floor.

There are various shafts crisscrossing through this station's hull, more than large enough for me to fit into. I use those to make my way into the station's interior, and a little fancy cutting-and-splicing work gets me into the pressurized zone.

This station is essentially a Corpus city. It's actually easier to pass beneath notice once I'm outside the ventilation system, into the busy streets.

Here, hundreds of people fill colossal corridors, traversing their tenuous lives. Cool light fills this mechanical world, glowing over patterns of blue and silver. Voices permeate the air, their broken symphony underscored by the gentle hum of the station's generators. People stand or travel in clusters, their conversations lost to the pervasive noise. Vendors are scattered along the edges, selling their wares. A few bold individuals wear syndicate colors.

I slip through the crowd, trading a platinum nugget for a few credits, then making my way to the flight station desk. A giant hologram shines above, listing the various statuses of local flights. A small crowd of people stands near the desk, listening to a woman – uniform marking her as a pilot – speaking animatedly.

While standing in line, I can hear her too.

"– Turns out, she cut a hole in one of the power conduits, and just plugged some giant cable right in! It destroyed our shields, but that ship ran faster than anything you've ever seen! We left those Grineer in our dust!"

I reach the front of the line, and the woman behind the desk asks, "Which flight?"

"Gaia's Breath," I answer, placing credits on the desk. The woman takes them, and hands me a ticket in return. Gaia's Breath is a large transport, perfect for a young girl searching for her way in the world. And if it's owned by New Loka, all the better – I haven't had much firsthand experience with syndicates, and I'd really like to learn more about them. This seems like a perfect opportunity to do just that.

I slide into the storyteller's audience as she continues, her voice dropping, "When we docked, though, and finally got the engine room's doors open… Wen Til and the freelancer were both inside. She was dead. She sacrificed her life for us – truly, she was human."

The crowd turns somber, and I glance at my ticket. This storyteller is my pilot, a woman by the name of Ellia. She seems like a decent sort, though I'm little skeptical of her assumption regarding this 'freelancer's' motivations.

(But I'm Loi, and I wouldn't know anything about that.)