It had been some time since Frederick had been in control of a situation, or a task to complete, but it seemed that this time was nearing its end. The Hunt’s stores of resources had been sorted and moved from the makeshift hub to the locations which needed them most, while the station itself was out-living its usefulness. There was not much else to do with the equipment aboard, it couldn't serve the Light anymore than it already had.
Some of the patrols around the area had reported more activity of Junker ships, maybe they had seen the Station's Transponder and saw it as a possible place to rest. Maybe they saw a takeover opportunity. Either way, it didn't matter. Mr. Schmidt had a decision to make, and it needed to be made soon. The crew aboard the station had begun to also grow rowdy, being cooped up so long had not done them any favours. Meanwhile maintenance of the outpost was becoming a drain on the available resources. In the end, Frederick knew what needed to be done. Typing into the console of the recently repurposed Asteroid miner, he gave the order for the bulk of personnel be relocated back to Lichtenfelde and a select few "skeleton crew" to remain, keeping basic function going. This wasn't the most ideal solution, but it kept the station open for potential use in the future. Besides, there was always a chance extra supplies could be gathered, if the crew aboard could barter a percentage in exchange for access.
As things were, the station would be left to fend for itself, the remaining souls aboard willing to undertake this challenge of survival alone and without the guidance of the Light in full. In the meantime, the new captain did assemble an emergency contact line, for if they were able to secure a portion of new dweller's supplies.
Several weeks had passed, and the operational hurdles of Seward Station had been minimal. Though with there being little manpower and ship viability, Frederick was once again found needing to return. Several small scale raids on local factions had been conducted, meaning the station needed a logistics manager to handle the goods. It was once again time to utilise the station and its facilities.
As he returned, the manifests were handed over. Salvage, scrap, fuel and supplies. Not the most impressive list of goods to have access to, but not the least useful. He thought for a moment. The local Junkers would pounce on such an opportunity to profit off the stations manufacturing and refining capabilities. It was time to issue out a direct communications to them, much like the manager had before with Orex Industries.