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

<passage>:
The rate was slow, and there was no immediate danger, but it was something . Also, the outside Geigs recorded a phenomenal amount of short radiation emanating from the ship herself . The insulation kept most of it from penetrating, but tests showed that the strange skin. change over to prime-space could be effected. According to Bayne's calculations, 40 Eridani C would be within 40,000,000 miles of them when the ship emerged from hyper space. large and small, lay in a globular cluster dead ahead. They spread out "Amen! Amen! Amen! Stop." Commander Strykalski smoothed out the in all directions for more than half a parsec ... dull, rocky little All that waited for the MESSAGE. wrinkled flimsy by spreading it carefully on the wet bar. reception at the hands of the defenders of 40 Eridani C II, while here was mystery at close range. Mystery that was not cosmic in scope ... it in so many words ... no one was anxious for another encounter Strike made a passing effort to look stern and failed. "You mean "Warp!" Atropos had refused any commerce with the Solar Combine. Only CSN Intelligence knew that the Eridans were warlike ... and that they were strongly suspected of having interstellar flight.... So, reflected Strike, the transfer of the warship. The Cleopatra's crew was a unit ... a team in the true sense in no other. That's the way Strike ran his crew, and that's the way the bridge." . Only one tube-liner burned through, and only six hours over. Welders and physicists, naval architects and shipfitters, all armed with voluminous blueprints and atomic torches set to work on her even before her tubes had cooled. Power lines were crossed and "And why was the hyper-spatial barrier." "Golly!" Celia Graham was wide-eyed. "I always thought of hyperspace as a ... well, sort of an abstraction." "Right on the nose, Strike," she returned. Then she broke into a wide smile. "Besides, I wouldn't want to enter an alien cosmos with anyone when you say it that way." imperiously ... almost frantically. solar Combine! All the colonies in Centaurus are being invaded!" Strike felt the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he knew that all the others felt the same. If this was a war, they were the ones who would have to fight it. And the Eridans! Awful leathery creatures with tentacles ... chlorine breathers! They would make a formidable enemy, welded as they were into one fighting unit by the functioning of that my ship is fueled and armed for space within three hours!" "Hold on, Strike!" Ivy Hendricks intervened, "What about the tests?" wartime! The Cleopatra's a warship and there's a war on now. If you can have your gear jerry-rigged in three hours, you can come along and test it when we have the chance. Otherwise the hell with it!" pits and revetments. For a fleeting instant she was outlined against "Bridge." "The Admiral orders us to quote make a diversionary attack on the "And that," shrugged Ivy Hendricks, "Is that." through the electron telescope. Strykalski and Ivy Hendricks stood beside Bayne in the dorsal blister while the astrogator sighted Altair through his polytant. His long, "A perfect check with the plotted course! How's that for fancy dead reckoning?" he exclaimed. hundred. That's the best I can do from this far away. They seem to have some sort of radiation net out and they are moving into spread formation." Strike cursed. "They've spotted us and they want to scoop us in with that force net! Damn that group-mind of theirs ... it makes for uncanny "Communications!" called Strike. deadly pale, mouth pinched and drawn. This was the first time in battle Strykalski was rapping out his orders with machine-gun rapidity, making years of training were guiding him now. A feminine voice replied. "Check your accumulators. We may have to fight. Have the gun-pointers get the plots from Radar. And load fish into all tubes." "Radar!" "Right here, Skipper!" "We're going into second-order, Celia. Use UV Radar and keep tabs on them." It's going to be a hell of a rough half hour!" speed. Within seconds, contact would be made with the advance units of the alien fleet. Old Aphrodisiac readied herself for war. Like a maddened bull terrier, the old monitor charged at the Eridan horde. Within the black hulls strange, tentacled creatures watched her in scanners that were activated by infrared light. The chlorine atmosphere grew tense as the Tellurian warship drove full at the pulsating net of interlocked force lines. Parsecs away, on a frozen right to conquest. The alien weapons were too strange, too different from anything her builders could have imagined or prepared her to face. The net sucked the life from her second-order generators, and she slowed, like the victim of a nightmare. Now rays of heat reached out for her, grazing her flanks as she turned and twisted. One touched her atmospheric fins and melted them into slowly congealing globes of steel glowing with a white heat. She fought back with whorls of atomic fire that sped from her rifles to wreak havoc among her attackers. Being non-entities in themselves, and only limbs of the single mentality that rested secure on its home world, the Eridans lacked the their numbers wore her down, cutting her strength with each blow that chanced to connect. Torpedoes from the tubes that circled her beam found marks out in space and leathery aliens died, their black ships burst asunder by the violence of new atoms being created from old. But there were too many. They hemmed her in, heat rays ever slashing, wounding her. Strykalski fought her controls, cursing her, coaxing her. Damage reports were flowing into the flying bridge from every They couldn't last another ten minutes. It was only the practiced hands battle. "She can't stand much more of this!" Cob was screaming at the gun-pointers through the open communicator circuit, his blood heated by the turbulent cacophony of crackling rays and exploding torpedoes. "Hit 'em! Damn it! Damn it, hit 'em now! Dead ahead! Hit 'em again!..." Ivy stumbled across the throbbing deck to stand at Strykalski's side. only " Try it! " Ivy shouted back. Strykalski lurched from his chair as another ray caught the ship for an rays. No torpedoes flashed. The Cleopatra was alone, floating in There were no familiar constellations. The stars were spread evenly and the whole hull of the ship is by a continuous shower of microscopic fire bombs. Whitley found refuge in his favorite expression. "Ye gods and little catfish!" scorned and lost. touching each other as though they could dispel the loneliness of the racial memory. It brought them back to what they were: highly civilized them. "Cob," Strike directed with forced briskness, "Take over Damage agoraphobia must be more acute, reasoned Strike, and Bayne must have this shakily. "At least the fat's out of the fire for the time being...." side of the barrier. The ship's tactical astrophysicist brought in some disturbing reports on the stars that shone brightly all around her. They fitted the accepted classifications in all particulars ... except one. And that impossible lack of mass. mass. Like a microscopic bull in a gargantuan china shop, the Tellurian

<question>:
What best describes the battle?

<options>:
A Chlorine gas and heat rays verus rifle fire and torpedoes
B radiation net and rays of heat versus rifle fire and torpedoes
C Chlorine gas and radiation net versus heat rays and torpedoes
D radiation net and torpedoes versus rifle fire and heat rays

<answer>:

B