BoTH Chpt 30

==Blood on the Horizon - Chapter 30 -==
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===Known Story behind the Man===
"So," Victoria looked at the other people who were a part of the Command staff of the newly formed Marksman. "Does anyone actually believe Hull's story?" She took a swig of her beer before dipping a pretzel in some cheese. 
 
"Kinda hard to argue against it," Erika shrugged. "I watched his Jumpship appear, the guy might be lying about the time travel, but it's kinda hard to ignore what I saw."
 
"Which was?" Sheppard asked. 
 
"A broken man," Erika refused to look up from where she idly played with her food. "He didn't even know how to speak to us for the first month. Thought we were just more hallucinations. The poor fucker didn't even know what the difference between reality and his dreams anymore."
 
"Damn," Packer winced. "Well, it seems he's recovering pretty well."
 
"The guy's an absolute mess," Erika shook her head. "He's got a good head on his shoulders, and is pretty easy going, but I'm pretty sure he needs us more than we need him at the moment."
 
"And we left him alone?!" Naomi nearly shouted. "What kind of friends and staff are we? We let one of our walking wounded just get up and leave."
 
"Easy there," Richard cautioned his wife. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation."
 
"He had himself checked out by a shrink while we were on Pierce," Peterson finally cut in. "I was the one that dropped 'im off."
 
"And?" Naomi asked. 
 
"And, he's supposed to ease himself back into full socialization," Peterson explained. "No group outings larger than ten people until he knows how to handle himself around them again. Two years of solitude did a number on his social battery and sense of being. One on one, he'll be fine, but he'll need to figure out how to deal with larger groups as we expand in size."
 
"Great," Victoria snarked as she downed her beer and signaled for another. "So we've all signed up to work with a nutcase as our leader. This'll go really well." 
 
"The guy's a wizard in a 'mech or with a handgun," Sheppard shrugged. "And he's not half bad at small unit tactics, and has some pretty unique ideas for larger unit tactics. I'm willing to give it a shot. If only because he's doing right by those of us who needed help."
 
"Fuck it!" Jewel laughed. "I've already signed the contract, I'm stuck with ya for now!" She raised her glass. "To the Marksman!"
 
"Marksman," The rest of them raised their glasses in a salute before taking a drink. 
 
"Why'd he spell it like that, anyway?" Peterson asked. "I've been meaning to ask why it has an 'A' instead of an 'E'."
 
"Someone already has the Marksmen, even if the unit is pretty much just a Leopard and a Lance holding onto scraps in the Outworlds Alliance," Packer said, freezing as everyone turned to look at him. "What? I had Rook look into it," He shrugged. "Not like we haven't had time to do that sort of research lately."
 
"Makes sense to me," Sheppard chuckled. "Not like there's any truly unique name out there after all."
 
"At least he didn't call us something even more ridiculous," Victoria muttered. 
 
"What? Naomi asked. "Like the Dragon Guard or something?"
 
"Trevor's Timbuktoos?" Richard grinned. "Or the Fighting Quakers." 
 
"Women's Auxiliary Balloon Corps," Erika tossed a name out. "Or maybe the Short Range Recon Patrol Group."
 
"Bob Semple Armored Brigade? Victoria sounded out. "Or, TOG's heavy cavalry?"
 
"Plenty of silly names that people can pick from for a merc unit," Packer joined in. "Order of the Barley There, The Dead Phoenix, the Ghost Regiment of the Living Dead, the Fair Weather Irregulars."
 
"I like that last one," Peterson grinned. "Might try to work that in somewhere." 
 
The group dissolved into drunken laughter as silly names were thrown about for the rest of the night, with each name getting more and more ridiculous as the night wore on.
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===Famous Last Words===
 
It looks like most of the ones who needed medical will make a full recovery." Sheppard said as he leaned on a cane, the doctors forcing him to use it until his physical therapy was finished. 
 
"Alright," I looked at the list of payments that I needed to make. "I'll keep the ones that aren't combat capable on," I jotted down a note on the side of one of the documents. "They'll know something about logistics, and even if they just stay to give advice they'll be helpful."
 
"I'd make the offer at least," Sheppard agreed. "Some of them won't be willing to take it, but others might."
 
"We'll see," I rubbed my eyes, feeling as if I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. 
 
"Long night?" Sheppard wagged his eyebrows, a knowing smirk on his face. 
 
"Not in that way," I yawned. "I'm not going to commit myself to anything for while. Some things take longer to move on from."
 
"I get it," Sheppard quickly shifted from silly to serious. "It's not easy to move on when you've lost loved ones."
 
"No, it isn't," I turned my full attention to the paperwork in front of me, cutting that area of speech off entirely. "Do we have a rough ETA on when everyone will be back up and ready for action?"
 
"Two, three months?" Sheppard asked. "Most of the physical therapy we can do in transit if we need to, though I'd be concerned if we don't have some good medstaff on hand for some of us reinjuring ourselves."
 
"We'll pick some up," I assured him. "We'll spend another month here and then head out towards Camadierre. Our first leg of the anti-piracy contract begins there, and I'd hate for us to be late."
 
"A good first impression wouldn't be the wrong thing to make," Sheppard agreed. "Especially when the Bulls won't be too happy to have a unit made up of a lot of Fedsuns around."
 
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I shrugged. "We'll get along with them, or we won't. In which case we won't stick around for another contract."
 
"Well, either way, we're going to want to see if there's anything on the markets for sale there," Sheppard leaned over his side of the desk to look at a few things I pointed at. "They've got a pretty thriving Merc market there, and we might be able to pick up some nice stuff in a salvage yard or an auction. Factory fresh might be worth it, but not at the prices they fetch in order to get it anytime soon."
 
"If a Marauder becomes available we'll pick one up," I replied. "Not like we can't afford one."
 
"We can't think like that forever though," he shook his head. "We've got to work and act as if we don't have the reserves that we do, otherwise our stomachs'll be bigger than our heads, and then we'll get hammered by a pirate unit that we couldn't take on."
 
"Right," I yawned again. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleepy at the moment."
 
"What time did you start on this?" Sheppard looked at the 'Completed' stack of paperwork.
 
"Five, Six?" I asked myself. "It was after my workout."
 
"And you read all of the fine print," Sheppard sighed. "Mark, it's seven in the evening, you need to be done."
 
"Can't," I shook my head. "I've got to work."
 
"No, you really don't." the other man pointed out. "You just went through seventeen different medical reports and bills, read all of the legalese, and negotiated the bills as low as you could get them. You've done enough for the day."
 
"When I stop working, that's when it all starts over again," I looked Sheppard in the eye. "I need to be doing something, anything to keep the whispers at bay."
 
"Mark, you're done," Jack glared. "You need to rest, and then we need to make you an appointment with a new shrink. Might be worth seeing if there's any medications that will help you out with some of that mess."
 
"I'm fine," I replied. "I can sleep when I'm dead."
 
"Famous last words…"
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Chapter 30