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Sico stood for a moment just outside the hospital, letting the warmth of the sunlight touch his face. His thoughts drifted to Virgil, already settling into the lab. To Nora, still inside the Institute. To Preston and Sarah, keeping the Scan Department growing strong. So much work lay ahead.
The next morning broke quiet, soft beams of sunlight filtering through the slats of Sico's office windows. The scent of brewed coffee lingered in the air—an old-world luxury he'd come to rely on during long hours at Minutemen HQ. Papers were spread across his desk, filled with reports from the Scan Department, requisitions for building supplies, and field updates from outposts across the Commonwealth.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It had been a long few weeks—bringing Virgil out of the Glowing Sea, getting him settled in, coordinating the scan teams, keeping up with every moving part of a growing nation. It felt endless sometimes. But still, it was better than chaos. Better than the scattered days of reacting instead of planning.
He reached for his pen, ready to sign off on a shipment of steel plates for the northern watchtower—
Then he heard it.
A distant, low thrum at first—faint, like a storm still far away. But the sound grew rapidly, unmistakable. The chop of rotors. Not one. Not two.
Multiple.
Sico stood up slowly, tension creeping into his shoulders. He stepped to the window and looked out across the expanse of Sanctuary Hills. The sun glinted off metal, casting long shadows as five Brotherhood of Steel Vertibirds approached in a tight V formation, their engines growling across the sky like an omen.
His eyes narrowed. Five? That wasn't a patrol. That was a statement.
The door to his office burst open, and in stepped Preston Garvey, already geared up in his combat coat, laser musket slung over his shoulder.
"I saw them," Sico said before Preston could even speak.
"Five of them," Preston confirmed grimly. "No radio contact yet. No requests to land. Just a straight flight path toward us."
Sico turned from the window. "Any idea what they want?"
Preston shook his head. "None. But they're coming in fast."
Sico crossed the room, grabbed his coat and holster, and snapped his sidearm into place. "Get the perimeter locked down. No weapons raised unless they make the first move. I don't want a firefight in our own streets—but I'm not letting them stroll in unchallenged either."
"You got it," Preston nodded, already turning on his heel.
Sico followed him out, descending the stairs of HQ two steps at a time. Outside, the compound was already shifting. Soldiers stood at alert posts, radios crackling. Commandos snapped into formation near the central plaza, and Robert was coordinating with scan teams to cover the entrances. The community hadn't panicked yet—but eyes were lifting to the sky. People knew what Brotherhood Vertibirds meant.
The shadow of the first aircraft swept over the courtyard, massive and ominous. It circled once before hovering over the designated landing pad near the town square. A hiss of hydraulics followed as the Vertibird lowered itself with precision. Then the next, and the next, until all five had landed in a staggered arc across the northern edge of Sanctuary.
The doors on the lead Vertibird slid open with a mechanical clunk.
Out stepped a squad of Brotherhood Knights in power armor, the signature black and steel glinting in the sun. At their center was a familiar face: Paladin Danse. His expression was as unreadable as ever, his eyes scanning the assembled Minutemen with a soldier's calculating precision.
Sico stepped forward with measured confidence, flanked by Preston and Robert. His own soldiers stood ready behind them—not aggressive, but firm.
Danse removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. "General Sico."
Sico inclined his head. "Paladin Danse. Five Vertibirds? That's quite an entrance."
Danse didn't smirk, but there was the faintest twitch of something near his mouth. "We came to talk. But Elder Maxson felt it was time we showed… due respect."
Sico raised a brow. "You came here representing Maxson himself?"
Danse nodded. "Elder Maxson instructed me to open diplomatic talks with the Minutemen leadership. After our last encounter aboard the Prydwen, he's come to understand that you are no longer a loose collection of settlers with muskets."
Preston snorted quietly. "Took them long enough."
Danse's gaze flicked to him. "We underestimated you. We don't intend to make that mistake again."
Sico folded his arms. "So, you're here to talk. What about?"
Danse looked around Sanctuary—at the orderly streets, the buildings, the people moving with purpose. "It's clear you're building something lasting here. Civilization. Order. That's something the Brotherhood respects. But we have concerns about the technology you've developed—particularly the synth scanner."
"And you're not the only ones," Sico replied. "The Institute's already rattled. That scanner threatens their whole house of cards."
"That may be," Danse admitted, "but it also challenges our core mission. The Brotherhood's mandate is to control dangerous technologies—especially those that involve synthetic intelligence. The fact that you've developed something the Institute hasn't been able to counter… raises questions."
Robert stepped forward, voice calm but cold. "We're not handing it over, if that's what you came for."
Danse shook his head. "I didn't come to demand anything. I came to talk. Elder Maxson authorized me to explore a working relationship with the Minutemen. A formal one."
Preston looked at Sico. "You believe that?"
Sico didn't answer right away. He studied Danse carefully. There was tension in the man, yes—but no deception. Danse had always been a soldier of principle, not manipulation.
"What would this 'working relationship' involve?" Sico asked slowly.
"Joint operations. Coordinated defense protocols. A tech exchange—limited, and monitored—focused on mutual security." Danse's voice was steady. "The Commonwealth is changing. You're not just settlers anymore. And the Brotherhood can't afford to ignore that."
Sico considered the proposal in silence, then turned. "Let's take this to the conference room. There's too much dust in the air out here."
Danse nodded, signaling to his squad to stay with the Vertibirds. He followed Sico, Preston, and Robert back toward Minutemen HQ, his heavy boots echoing on the paved road.
Inside, the conference room was cool and clean, lit by wide windows and lined with maps and tactical reports. Danse removed his power armor's chest plate and set it down with a thud before taking a seat.
Sico leaned back in his chair, the quiet click of the wood against the floor breaking the tension. His eyes didn't leave Danse's face—not for a second. The air inside the conference room had shifted, grown heavier. Outside, sunlight still streamed through the windows, but inside, it felt like a storm had just made landfall.
He steepled his fingers. "Let's stop dancing around it, Danse. What's the Brotherhood's real intention coming here? Because this whole 'joint operation' pitch smells like cover."
For a long second, the only sound was the faint hum of the power relay humming through the building's walls.
Danse didn't blink. But he did narrow his eyes.
"You're right."
He leaned forward, setting his helmet on the table with a deliberate thud. "We're here because we want the blueprint to your scanner."
Preston's jaw tensed, and Robert's hand twitched subtly near his holster—but Sico raised one hand, still calm.
"And if we don't want to give it?" he asked, voice flat and cold as stone.
Danse didn't flinch. "Then you're making enemies you really don't want to have."
A long, bitter silence followed. The kind that stretches, slow and taut, like the breath before a trigger's pull.
Sico's chair creaked as he stood, eyes never leaving Danse's.
"I appreciate the honesty," he said finally, but there was no warmth in his tone. "Even if it came dressed in a lie."
Danse stood too, his frame towering and rigid. "I didn't want it this way, Sico. But Elder Maxson believes this scanner changes the balance of power. Not just with the Institute, but with everyone. We can't afford to let something like that go unchecked. It's a wildcard."
"And what does he think we are?" Sico shot back, voice rising slightly. "Some loose cannon militia? That's old history. We've built cities. Infrastructure. Education. Trade. We don't throw power around—we manage it. Something the Brotherhood could stand to learn from."
Danse's jaw tightened. "We don't share that view. The Brotherhood has protocols. We don't let technology slip beyond our control. You might not mean harm—but you've created something that could start a war."
Robert stepped forward, his voice sharp and cutting. "So your solution is to start one preemptively?"
Danse exhaled through his nose, a sound almost like frustration. "No. That's why I'm here. I believe there's still a way to avoid that."
Sico crossed his arms. "By handing over the blueprints."
"By cooperating. Share it with us. We help refine it, deploy it properly, and ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
"We are the proper hands," Preston cut in. "We're the ones out here doing the work. The Brotherhood flies in when the fighting's done and claims credit."
Danse's gaze flicked toward Preston. "And yet, here we are. Talking. Not fighting."
"Barely," Preston muttered.
Sico walked slowly around the table, each footstep deliberate. His voice, when he spoke again, was quiet but razor-edged. "This scanner didn't come from greed or ambition. It came from fear. Fear of what we couldn't see. Fear of losing friends and family to infiltration. We bled for this technology. We lost people testing it. And now you want to stroll in and take it with the threat of war hanging in the air."
Danse didn't back down. "We want to prevent that war. But if you won't share it—if you cling to it like it's a weapon—then we have to treat it like one."
Sico looked to Robert and Preston. Both were stiff with tension, waiting. He turned back to Danse.
"We won't give you the blueprints."
Danse's eyes narrowed again. "Then you leave us no choice."
"And you think that threat's going to change my mind?"
"No," Danse admitted. "But it will change Elder Maxson's orders."
Sico exhaled slowly, then nodded toward the door. "This conversation's over."
Danse hesitated. Then picked up his helmet and secured it under his arm.
"I'll report back to the Prydwen. Maxson will make the next move."
As Danse turned and headed for the exit, the air felt like it snapped back into place behind him—a door closing on something heavy and unresolved.
The three Minutemen stood in silence after he left.
Preston finally spoke. "What do we do now?"
Sico looked at the door, his expression grave. "We prepare. Because whatever's coming… it won't be a conversation."
—
The Brotherhood Vertibirds lifted off a short while later, engines roaring as they rose in formation and peeled back toward the sky. Sanctuary's people watched silently, a mixture of awe and unease written across their faces.
Back in the conference room, Sico called in Sarah, Mel, and a few key personnel from the Scan Department and Engineering. He laid out the conversation with Danse in full—no secrets, no sugarcoating.
"They want the scanner," he said plainly. "And when they realize we won't give it to them, they're going to try and take it."
Mel swore under her breath. "What, like a raid?"
"Maybe," Robert said. "Or sabotage. Disinformation. Hell, even a blockade."
"We can't let them near the lab," Sarah said, fists clenched at her sides. "The prototype alone is enough to reverse-engineer the whole thing."
Sico nodded. "Then we move it. Disassemble it. Spread the components across multiple secure sites. Start working on a failsafe version that's harder to copy if they ever get their hands on it."
"And the people?" Mel asked. "The ones running the scans?"
"We keep them rotating. No one person holds too much knowledge. Decentralize the system."
"Are we really preparing for war with the Brotherhood?" Sarah asked.
Sico didn't answer immediately.
Then he looked up, voice calm.
"We're preparing for the worst. But we're still hoping for the best."
—
By nightfall, Sanctuary was under quiet lockdown. No announcement had been made to the general public, but key personnel were briefed, and soldiers had quietly doubled their patrols. Supply routes were rerouted. The scanner lab was emptied and split into four separate caches, each loaded onto separate convoys escorted by armed guards and deployed in opposite directions.
Sico stood on the roof of HQ that night, staring into the stars. The Commonwealth was changing—he could feel it in his bones. The old ways, the old power structures, they were breaking down. He didn't know what Maxson's next move would be. But he knew one thing for certain.
If the Brotherhood thought they could intimidate the Minutemen with a show of force, they'd just made their second mistake. Because this time, the Minutemen were ready.
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• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-