wall and pulled himself down and directly behind the targets. He scanned quickly with his eyes, and the visor flagged the potential hostiles as his retinas darted about.
Seven hostiles, two down.
He lifted his carbine and took aim. The impact from the butt of the carbine was normally modest, but in this zero gravity environment, it worked like a small thruster and pushed him toward the wall. Jack was already positioned to counter the effect and loosed off three more rounds. The other marines fired precision shots, taking care to only strike the hostage takers. As the rounds struck home, Jack spotted the first of the civilians further ahead inside the habitation area. It was a woman, possibly in her early thirties. She wore tan colored pants and a loose top, nothing more, and her face was discolored and bruised.
“Sarge, front sector,” he called out.
Sergeant Stone propelled himself through the melee without shooting and moved toward the next door and the entrance to the bridge. Two marines were struck by thermal shotguns, but although hit, neither seemed seriously wounded by the civilian weapons. The marines cut them down with ease and then chased after the Sergeant. Jack was closest to the door and pulled himself through to find Sergeant Stone’s feet clamped firmly to the ground, and his weapon raised and pointed at a group of five people. Jack automatically lifted his carbine and pointed the weapon in the same direction.
“Take it easy,” whispered Sergeant Stone in a stern and calm tone.
The woman and an older man were tied to their seats in the bridge and behind them were the five men. Each was firmly anchored to the ground or wall, using their feet or hands on the grab rails. Three pointed pistols at the Sergeant while the other two threatened their prisoners. Sergeant Stone deactivated the visor on his helmet, and it slid open, revealing his grim looking face.
“This is over. Give up the prisoners and you’ll get a fair trial.”
Each of the men smirked or grinned at his comments. Jack knew the lopsided smiles as more than just smirks though; they were the look of contempt. It sent a shiver through his body.
They are serious.
He glanced to his left and right, immediately suspecting trouble, and was rewarded by movement in the shadows. A robed man spun out with blades that glistened, embedding one in the armored flank of Sergeant Stone. The man grunted in pain before twisting left to strike his assailant. The man was fast though and used the low-gravity to his advantage as he maneuvered around the armored marine. Jack moved right and kept his weapon trained on the men. Not one of them moved.
“Trouble on the bridge, I think we have Neo Bábists here!”
Even as Jack said the words, he couldn’t believe what he was saying. The Alliance was filled with hundreds of religious groups and philosophical movements, but since the discovery of the Biomechs, a number of them had grown in prominence. Those religions that placed an emphasis on an end of life scenario or an apocalyptical event had found much to associate with. The Neo Bábists were one of those groups and shared the belief of the End Times and the manifestation of God. Since the first ships arrived in the Orion Nebula, it had spread like wildfire amongst those that feared the return of the Biomechs. By encountering sentient and violent life on these new worlds, the Neo Bábists had used this as a demonstration of the coming danger. Most adherents were harmless, but a militant faction had collaborated with others to try and halt exploration and expansion to hold off the eventual Judgment Day.
The marines tried to move in to help, but as with Sergeant Stone, they were halted by the hidden enemy. From behind consoles, computer units, and storage lockers emerged the enemy. They were poorly equipped and armed, but they moved and attacked with purpose and ferocity.
“Put them down!” shouted Stone.
Gunfire rippled through the bridge and habitation