Jules arrived at her post in the station's outer ring. Seal four was one of the cargo docks and the area adjacent to the seal was a fairly large and open storage facility. Large containers and barrels were hurriedly being shifted to form crude barricades facing the seal itself. Jules lent a hand to the efforts, manhandling crates of spare parts and supplies in to place after other members of the security detail had shifted them with commandeered cargo moving vehicles.<br/><br/>"OK, that's the best we're going to be able to manage." A sergeant declared after a short while.<br/><br/>Jules took her place at the barricade, staring apprehensively at the large cargo seal. She released the safety on her slugthrower and took aim upon the doors. Her palms were sweating and the bodyarmour and helmet chafed, there had been no time to properly adjust the hastily donned equipment.<br/><br/>The message that Eve 7 was under attack from unknown hostiles had come as she had been en route to her post. Rumours had been buzzing around the spacestation for a while now about isolated instances of humanity's farflung refuges outposts going abruptly silent or of ships simply disappearing.<br/><br/>Glancing around the barricades Jules could number the security personnel manning this defence at less than a dozen. Working the maths quickly she figured that if all the station's staff were deployed, including like herself pressing support and desk staff to service then that was all that could be mustered at each of the seals.