There was that uncomfortable silence when you ride an elevator with someone you have just met. She wondered about the tech required to create an "Oxygen Garden" inside a station that was inside a dark matter cloud. She was aware by now, that the whole station was shielded. But a garden meant plants, and plants need sun light. The elevator continued moving. Maybe it was not a garden in the traditional sense, and simply an Oxygen generator, still it would need some sort of fuel to process. She let the silence hang in the air, remembering that speaking first usually meant your were on the defensive end of a conversation.
She felt her comm unit buzz three times in her flight suit and knew that the file she left out as bait, had not been accessed and had now moved its self to a secure storage module within the unit and had deleted the copy left open on the front screen. She resisted the urge to say anything, and was relieved to a degree, when the elevator came to a stop and the doors started to open.