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Research Ship 311

“What the hell?” Shel sat up and hit her head on the console. She let loose a string of curses and stood up slowly. “Why in the bloody hell are we on full alert!” she said.

“Enemy frigates, moving in fast,” Riggs reported. “The Trident’s on an intercept course. She’s moving between us and them.”

Shel swung herself into the command chair. “All power to the engines. Get us home. Now!”

Riggs’ hands flew across the console, putting her commands into action. Sensor’s flared suddenly. Shel swore again.

“More enemy vessels, moving in fast from behind!” Riggs shouted. “Shel, they’re priming their weapons.”

“Open a channel.” Shel flexed her hands as she waited for Riggs. Theirs was the smallest team, just six others on board, all researchers with no weapons training. Riggs was the only combatant.

“The air’s yours,” he said.

“This is the Reliant, we are unarmed, repeat unarmed. We have civillians on board. Stand down!” Shel looked at Riggs.

“They’ve opened fire,” he said.

“Evasive manoeuvres!” Shel ordered.

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