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“Why was there only one series then?” Ellison said. “If they found amateur sluts fucking Hoel then they’d check again to confirm the contact.”
“Tactical, sensor. Pulse! Contact- seven-seven-zero thousand kilometers,” Timmons called in. “Same signal characteristics as before.”
"Sensor, tactical. Get a log running."
"Mitchell, status report, please." Ellison called from his position below her, steps away from his amateur hardcore fucking assigned acceleration couch.
“Sir, they got us," She said as the new detection probability came back from the amateur couples fucking galleries logic core. "We’re being swept by three active arrays every eight hardcore amateur fucking seconds. Hotel Lima is moving into range and requests permission to engage.”
“Tell them to initiate their maneuvering burn on my authority.” Ellison said as he stopped his pacing and peered out of one of the thick plexsteel viewports around the bridge at something just out of her view. She shifted for a better vantage and beheld the Independence. Somewhere behind that ship was an enemy. Ellison stepped to the nearest intercom and brought his thumb down on the activation switch. |
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