[@Catchphrase] mentioned

The space station belonging to Wendell United Survivor Operations, also known as WUSO, mostly drifted through space, only taking gentle puffs of propellant to make course corrections as it drifted slowly. There was no point in stopping, as there was nothing to stop for. At least, that was what was thought. On board the station, all sorts of things were going on, from people trying to live normally to people trying hard to wield two pieces of ship together to make stable connections.

On the bridge of the [i]Iron Lady[/i], as the station was called by everyone, Talos team leader Fay Powell felt power. This was a good thing, yet at the same time a bad thing. Good, because the position of power showed that she was boss. Not as much boss as Jennifer Valentino, but a boss indeed. The bad part was that because she was currently the one in charge of the bridge, she also had to make decisions, like the one coming at her right now. At least, she presumed so, as the communications 'officer' was turning toward her. The man was just a civilian communications specialist that they had picked up as part of bridge crew on one of the ships attached to the station, and he had been placed as part of the Alpha bridge crew, as opposed to the Bravo crew, which rotated when needed.

"Ma'am, we are picking up transmittions being pinged between what seem to be large objects in space." The man took a look toward an astrologist that served as part of the tactical team on the bridge. Unlike actual warships, the [i]Iron Lady[/i] required a tactical team rather than a single person, since instead of that one person with all the knowledge combined with a computer with even more knowledge, all there was for a 'crew' was civilians, not as rigorously trained as actual combat personnel. The astrologist cleared her throat, before saying, "Those are no 'objects'. From what we've been able to identify, using passive sensors, of course, those are stations, and they're communicating," the woman says, sounding quite proud of herself.

Fay leaned forward, combat instincts taking over from the tiny course she took in navy situations. "Communications, you can pick up those signals, so put them through. I want to eavesdrop. Tactical, keep condition green, but ready to put it to yellow at my command." In a few moments, she had audio, and listen to a conversation between several surviving space stations. She wondered if they were pirates, looking for survivors of the Wendell incident. Lucky, that turned out not to be the case. At least, not openly. "Navigation, move us closer to the closest station. The one that seems to be calling itself Epsilon station. Use only the stealthiest methods, though. Operations, turn off all exterior lights, keep us invisible. The only thing I want pinging off of us is the communications and their radar, if they have any, and even those I don't want on us," Team leader Fay says. She knew it was almost impossible to hide against any radar pings, especially with a station this large, but she was trying her best.  Slowly, the space station drifted closer to Epsilon station.