The station awaited those who would arrive with solemn silence, and greeted them in equally solemn silence. It was a dark thing, reflective exterior barely illuminated by the dying sun it orbited. Derelict weapons systems no longer received power, which probably meant that the station simulated neither gravity, nor breathable atmosphere. The last vestiges of electricity contained in its reactors were devoted to preserving the life of a decrepit artificial intelligence unit, too low on energy to simulate anything more than the most basic intelligence. It might has well have been a dead station. The only remarkable thing about it, then, was how it managed to broadcast this signal. The power source for the broadcaster would have to be separate from the other systems, which made sense in some manner. Sustaining a distress beacon was top-priority if one had intention to respond to them. Unfortunately, whoever fabricated this kilometer-long structure was long gone. Its architecture was plain and unappealing, designed purely for function. Empty hallways yielded no bodies, only the corpses of computer systems that went offline long ago. The foul touch of entropy had not found its way here, more or less. Most was preserved, but little was new. It was precursor, but not one of the greats. At least, it didn't appear to be. The databases of the terminals on-board could yield information, if power could be restored.

All in all, it was dead, and eerie, and invited one to seek out its phantom distress beacons, if only to shut them off.