BoTH Chpt 49

==Blood on the Horizon - Chapter 49 -==
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===Where all the People Went===
Location: EidolonDate: July 8th, 3004
"So," I looked at the rows of BattleMechs. "What exactly am I looking at here?"
 
"Toros," A Taurian noncom replied, a tear trickling down his face. "It's two companies of Toros."
 
"And that's not the most interesting thing that we found here," Staff Sergeant Packer chimed in. "We found out why there aren't any people around."
 
"Okay?" I raised an eyebrow and followed him through the lit corridors. "Do explain."
 
"This door is sealed for a reason, and it was one of three chambers that weren't covered in water when the pumps failed."
 
The noncom entered a six-digit code and the door slid open, revealing rows of cryogenics pods, the frost remaining on all of them showcasing that they were still functional.
 
"We've run all of the tests," Doctor Janet Hale glanced up from the pod she was inspecting. "This and one other chamber are the only survivors and we're finding more flooded cryo chambers in buildings all across the city."
 
"So, what are our options here?" I asked the woman we'd picked up as our CMO while in Canopian space.
 
"Trying to move the pods is risky," She sighed. "And I have no idea how long they've been in here, so we're talking about muscle density loss, potentially ice being generated in the brain, all sorts of potential problems. The real question is, do we have the space to transport four thousand people to their old home?"
 
"We sure they're Taurian, and not Canopian?" I looked into one of the pods before averting my eyes after catching an eyeful of a young woman's breasts.
 
"All of the markings we've found show that this was a Taurian failsafe," Packer responded. "We're not quite sure what happened here, but aside from the standard issues of being on ice for so long, these people are perfectly healthy."
 
"Alright," I stroked my beard in thought. "We're going to advance our timeline a bit. I'll be reassigning some of you to finish repairing the dropships so we can leave here in a hurry. We can set up temporary quarters in the DroSTs Cargo bays, and make sure that these people are as comfortable as possible. We'll dock them with access to the Phoenix so that they can have immediate medical treatment if an emergency case arises."
 
I looked at the pods and turned around to look at the 'Mechs.
 
"Load up these 'Mechs, and get Rook over here to pull what data he can from the computers here. There might be a factory hidden around here. I doubt these were hand-tooled and crafted," I rolled up the sleeves on my duty uniform. "Now, where do you need me to help?"
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===Awaken from a Long Rest===
"Easy," I held out the heated blanket to the older gentleman as he slowly began to comprehend what was going on. "Let's get you warmed up now."
 
I smiled as the man tucked the blanket around him and blinked, taking in the bright lights of the underground room.
 
"How long did we sleep?" He asked as he allowed me to direct him to a nearby table where some sets of PT gear had been left for them to wear. "Who are you people?"
 
"We're friends," I helped him stand while he pulled on the underwear and then helped with the sweatpants and hoodie before handing him a cup of hot soup.
 
All around us, Marksman were helping people out of cryostasis and into clothes of their own, and the somber mood that had been in the chamber while the pods were closed lifted as the people began to become more lively.
 
"Sir, if you'll follow the signs, we have people ready to get you outside and into the sun, and there are others who we woke up that can explain things to you further."
 
He simply nodded and began to slurp the soup as if he had been starved of food for weeks.
 
Then he slowly walked through the doors where a soldier began to assist him up the stairs.
 
"Doing this in groups of ten made it a lot easier," Lieutenant Hober commented as we took a small break. "Thank you."
 
"For what, Lieutenant?" I asked as I began ladling soup into more readied cups.
 
"For doing this the right way," he replied as he folded up some more blankets and stuffed them into the drier we'd brought down. "Even the Taurians back home would have just left them in the pods until we got back to space. Simply because it's the easier option."
 
"Just because something is easy, does not make it the best way to do something," I replied. "If it were easy, It wouldn't be Black Watch," I muttered the last bit under my breath.
 
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"What was that?" Henry Hober asked.
 
"Nothing, Lieutenant," I replied. "Just something I heard while operating the sims a time or three."
 
"Well, it looks like the next group is ready to go," Hober reached into one of the driers and pulled out two blankets before handing me one. "Let's give them a warm welcome, shall we?"
 
"Heh, Warm welcome," I chuckled as I held the freshly hot blanket. "Nice."
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===The Stark Reality of the Situation===
"Captain Johnson, It's good to see that you're one of the ones that made it," a frail-looking man shivered under the sunlight.
 
"So many of us didn't," The captain sighed, turning to face more into the sun's warmth. "Take a seat, Corporal, we're going to be here for a while," Johnson patted the seat next to her.
 
"Corporal, what do you think about our new hosts?" Johnson asked, pulling a small set of sunglasses further up her nose.
 
"They're definitely mercenaries," The Corporal replied. "Their kit isn't uniform enough for them to be standard military."
 
"You mean their hardware," Johnson corrected. "Their uniforms are good, and aside from the beards, you'd never know that they aren't full spectrum military instead of a PMC."
 
"They took our 'Mechs, Captain."
 
"I know, Corporal," Johnson finally looked directly at the corporal, allowing him to see her eyes. "But there's not anything we can do about it. And given the information we've been given, not many of us survived."
 
"You're buying what they said about the sea level?"
 
"It makes sense," Johnson shrugged. "The water table was always high on this planet. And given the scans that I was shown compared to what it looked like originally…" She trailed off as her voice and throat choked up. "So many people, just gone."
 
They remained in silence for a little while before they were approached by one of the uniformed mercenaries.
 
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Captain Johnson?"
 
"That's me," she stood up, her legs still somewhat weak, but it was nothing compared to when fresh out of the pod.
"We found your personal effects," the man's rank, a cloth oakleaf was sewn into the shoulder. "I know it's a cold comfort, but we're trying to do what we can to make sure that we do right by you and yours. We're currently getting things arranged to take you back to the Concordat."
 
"The Concordat still lives?" The Corporal asked.
 
"Indeed it does," the mercenary smiled sadly. "Not quite the same as when y'all left, but they're doing just fine from what I can tell."
 
"What do you need us to do?" the Captain asked, looking for a job to do.
 
"Well, I wasn't planning on putting any of you to work at all," the man stroked his beard. "But if you need something to do, then you can help us locate the rest of the buildings with chambers in them." his expression fell. "We don't have time to give everyone a burial, but we can at least hold a funeral ceremony in front of the buildings that are their final resting place."
 
"I'll gladly help with that," Johnson locked eyes. "Now, I never got your name, Mister?"
 
"Hull," the man replied. "Major Mark Hull, Owner and Commanding Officer of the Marksman…"
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Chapter 49