Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Constellation anything but a red haze over his mind. It blotted out the far wall of the laboratory where the shelves went up and down, numbered in scarlet, keeping the bodies of soldiers from all further harm. full-cargoed with a lot of warriors who didn't laugh or talk or smoke, who just lay on their shelves, all one hundred of them, waiting for a decent burial. shoot right out again in the trail of the war-rockets that blasted one another in galactic fury, to sidle up behind gutted wrecks of ships, salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict. Two men. Rice and himself. Sharing a cozy morgue ship with a hundred husk of his starved eyes and starved limbs. Starved for life. Starved for action. This would be his last trip, or he'd know the reason why! without making any noise on the rungs. He kept thinking the one thing he couldn't forget. You never catch up with the war. All the color is ahead of you. The drive of orange rocket traces across stars, the whamming of steel-nosed bombs into elusive targets, the titanic explosions and breathless pursuits, the flags and the excited glory are always a million miles ahead. He bit his teeth together. You never catch up with the war. You come along when space has settled back, when the vacuum has stopped trembling from unleashed forces between worlds. You come along in the dark quiet of death to find the wreckage plunging with all the fury of its original acceleration in no particular direction. You can only see grinding collisions, tossed from mother ships and dancing head over feet forever and forever with no goal. Bits of flesh in ruptured space suits, mouths open for air that had never been there in a hundred extended the retriever-claw and culled them into the air-lock. That was all the war-glory he got. Nothing but the stunned, shivering silence, the memory of rockets long gone, and the shelves filling up all too quickly with men who had once loved laughing. with the body his experienced glance knew that. He didn't know what it was. close to a veined skull. Where the thin-lipped mouth fell open a cluster of needle-tipped teeth glittered. The fragile body was enclosed completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle. space, then Kriere's not far away from him!" Burnett shrugged. More bodies, more people, more war. What the hell. else. Rice grabbed him by the shoulders. "Snap out of it, Sam. Think! Kriere—The All-Mighty—in our territory. His right hand man dead. That of it. When there's nothing left but seared memories, I'll be prowling through the void picking up warriors and taking them back to the good green Earth. Grisly, yes, but it's routine. "As for Kriere—if he's anywhere around, he's smart. Every precaution is taken to protect that one." "But Lethla! His body must mean something!" "And if it does? Have we got guns aboard this morgue-ship? Are we a battle-cuiser to go against him?" "We'll radio for help?" "Yeah? If there's a warship within our radio range, seven hundred thousand miles, we'll get it. Unfortunately, the tide of battle has swept out past Earth in a new war concerning Io. That's out, Rice." heart waiting warm and heavy at the base of his throat. "This is my last cargo, Rice. I can't take it any longer. And I don't A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head. You never catch up with the war! But what if the war catches up with you? What in hell would Lethla be wanting aboard a morgue ship? Lethla half-crouched in the midst of the smell of death and the an unbreakable thickness of one-thirtieth of an inch worn only on the head. You have to look quickly to notice it, and, unfortunately, viewed as you saw it, outside the ship, floating in the void, not discernible "Go find it!" snapped Rice, hotly. "I will." One hand, blue-veined, on the ladder-rungs, Lethla paused. "I know you're weaponless Purple Cross regulations. And this air-lock is safe. Don't move." Whispering, his naked feet padded white up the ladder. Two long breaths later something crashed metal and glass and coils. The radio. He smiled. "That's better. Now. We can talk—" Rice said it, slow: "Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead men belong here." Lethla's gun grip tightened. "More talk of that nature, and only dead men there will be." He blinked. "But first—we must rescue Kriere...." We were running out of fuel, food, water. Radio was broken. Capture was certain. You were coming our way we took the chance. We set a brief exams, returning alien corpses to space later." Rice's voice was sullen. "A set-up for you, huh? Traveling under the protection of the Purple Cross you can get your damned All-Mighty safe to Venus." safe hiding for precious Venusian cargo?" "Precious is the word for you, brother!" said Rice. "Enough!" Lethla moved his gun several inches. "Accelerate toward Venus, mote-detectors wide open. Kriere must be picked up— Constellation if they cooperated. But there were a lot of warriors sleeping on a lot of numbered shelves You may never catch up with the war again. The last trip! Yes, this could be it. Capture Kriere and end the war. But what ridiculous fantasy was it made him believe he could actually do it? body vanished as he tautened his spine, flexed his lean-sinewed arms, wet thin lips. hating a job and hoping that some day there would be a last trip and it would all be over. Constellation alive. His stomach went flat, tautened with sudden weakening fear. If Kriere could be captured, that meant the end of the war, the end of shelves stacked with sleeping warriors, the end of this blind water-blue uniform, emblems shining gold, heat-gun tucked in glossy jet holster. With Kriere aboard, chances of overcoming him would be because of his gun. Kriere would make odds impossible. Something had to be done before Kriere came in. where Lethla would send a bullet crashing into rib, sinew, artery—heart. There was a way. And there was a weapon. And the war would be over and this would be the last trip. Sweat covered his palms in a nervous smear. the center of that silence. "Take controls, Rice. I'll manipulate the star-port." Constellation was about to end a ten-years' war. There was only one way of drawing Lethla off guard, and it had to be directions, slid the long claw-like mechanism that picked up bodies from space. Lethla watched, intent and cold and quiet. The gun was cold and quiet, too. The claw glided toward Kriere without a sound, now, dream-like in its Constellation head, which was carefully preserved for identification. That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard. Something wet and sticky covered his chest. "I said this was my last trip and I meant it. One way or the other, I'd have quit!" "This is the hard way—" Constellation any way—but—the way—we used to—" His voice got all full of fog. As thick as the fists of a dozen warriors. Rice was going away from him. Rice was standing still, and Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a million miles.

<question>:
Why doesn’t the Constellation have weapons?

<options>:
A It is not allowed to have weapons because it has a medical mission
B It lost its weapons in a recent battle
C It had its weapons stolen by Kriere
D It is so far away from the war that having weapons is unnecessary

<answer>:

A