If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Outside, the harbor rested quietly beneath the stars and for the first time since the battle began that the base felt like home.
The canteen stayed alive long after the first bowls of chowder had been emptied.
Night settled over the harbor like a quiet blanket, but inside the old mess hall the atmosphere was anything but quiet.
Lanterns hung from rafters made the room glow with warm golden light. Steam continued drifting from the large cooking pots, and the scent of spices, roasted Mirelurk meat, and fried cakes clung to the air.
The feast had started as a simple morale boost.
But it had turned into something larger.
Something the sailors desperately needed.
After months of hard work rebuilding the harbor, they had finally faced a real threat.
And they had survived it.
Albert sat at the long wooden table with a bowl of chowder in front of him. The broth was thick and rich, filled with chunks of tender Mirelurk meat, potatoes, and herbs Navarro had somehow managed to scavenge from the base's dwindling supplies.
He took a slow spoonful.
Navarro had not exaggerated earlier.
It was excellent.
Across the table a young sailor named Collins wiped chowder from his beard and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
"Commander," he said between bites, "if Mirelurks attack every week, I might start hoping they win sometimes."
The table burst into laughter.
Albert shook his head.
"Let's not push our luck."
Collins raised both hands defensively.
"Just saying the food's good, sir."
At the next table Briggs was deep in conversation with several members of the defense teams.
Without his power armor he looked less like a walking tank and more like a very large, very tired man.
He held a roasted Mirelurk leg bone in one hand like it was a turkey drumstick.
One of the younger soldiers leaned forward eagerly.
"So what actually killed the first Queen?"
Briggs chewed thoughtfully before answering.
"Castle artillery cracked her shell."
He tapped the bone against the table.
"Then one of the missile teams finished the job."
The soldier whistled.
"That must've been something."
Briggs nodded slowly.
"It was loud."
Across the hall another table had already started a loud debate over who had fired the shot that dropped the first Mirelurk King.
Three sailors were pointing fingers at each other while half the table laughed.
The feast wasn't just about food.
It was about the release of tension.
For hours they had fought on the shoreline not knowing if the defenses would hold.
Now the danger was gone.
And people needed to talk about it.
Needed to laugh about it.
Needed to feel human again.
Albert finished his bowl slowly while watching the room.
He saw sailors with bandaged arms raising cups of rum.
Medics laughing with artillery crews.
Two cooks passing trays of fried Mirelurk cakes down a row of tables like they were dealing cards.
Navarro moved through the hall proudly, ladle in hand, making sure no one's bowl stayed empty for long.
Even the guards rotated off the walls in small groups to grab food before returning to their posts.
Outside, the harbor lights reflected across calm water.
Inside, the sound of voices and laughter echoed off the metal walls.
For the first time since the base had been established, the harbor truly felt like a community.
Hours later the crowd began to thin.
Exhaustion slowly replaced adrenaline.
Some sailors stumbled toward the barracks with full stomachs and heavy eyelids.
Others stayed behind to help Navarro's kitchen crew begin cleaning the mountain of dishes.
Briggs approached Albert near the exit of the hall.
He rubbed his jaw tiredly.
"That chowder nearly killed me."
Albert raised an eyebrow.
"Too much?"
Briggs nodded.
"Three bowls too much."
Albert chuckled quietly.
"Good problem to have."
Briggs glanced around the nearly empty hall.
"People needed this."
Albert nodded slowly.
"Yes."
They stepped outside together.
Cool ocean air greeted them.
The harbor was quiet now.
Most of the lights along the docks had dimmed.
Ships rocked gently against their moorings.
Briggs stretched his shoulders.
"Tomorrow's going to be busy."
Albert looked out across the dark water.
"Yes it will."
The shoreline still showed scars from the battle.
Broken barricades.
Scorched sand.
Cracks in the dock pavement where artillery shockwaves had rattled the ground.
Repair crews would begin work first thing in the morning.
Briggs exhaled slowly.
"Well… we held."
Albert nodded.
"Yes."
They stood there for a few more minutes before parting ways.
Briggs headed toward the barracks.
Albert returned toward headquarters.
The sun rose slowly over the Atlantic, painting the horizon with pale orange light.
A new day began at the harbor.
But the calm of the early morning only lasted a short time.
Soon the base was alive again with activity.
Repair crews moved out along the docks carrying tool crates and welding equipment.
Engineers inspected structural damage to the seawalls.
Truck engines roared to life as logistics teams resumed normal operations.
Inside Naval Headquarters, Albert was already awake and working.
His office window overlooked the harbor.
From his desk he could see workers moving along the waterfront like ants rebuilding a disturbed nest.
He had been up since dawn.
Several documents were spread across his desk.
Casualty lists.
Equipment damage reports.
Repair estimates.
And the one report he disliked the most.
The casualty confirmation sheet.
Albert leaned back slightly in his chair and stared at the paper again.
Four names.
Four sailors who would not be sitting in the mess hall again.
The feast the night before had been important.
But reality returned in the morning.
He picked up a pen and finished writing the final notes on the report.
Then he turned toward the radio set sitting at the corner of his desk.
This transmission was different from the one he had sent to Sico yesterday.
This one was official.
And it carried weight.
Albert adjusted the frequency dial carefully.
Static filled the room for a moment.
Then he pressed the transmit switch.
"Naval Command to Magnolia. Do you copy?"
For several seconds only static answered him.
Then a clear voice came through the speaker.
"Magnolia receiving. Go ahead Naval Command."
Albert sat upright.
"This is Commander Albert reporting from Harbor Naval Base."
"Go ahead, Commander."
Albert glanced once more at the casualty report before speaking.
"Engagement occurred yesterday afternoon. Large-scale Mirelurk assault on harbor defenses."
"Estimated forces included two Queens, multiple Kings, and numerous standard Mirelurks."
The radio crackled faintly.
"Understood. What are your casualties?"
Albert paused for half a second.
Then he answered.
"Four KIA."
There was silence on the line for a moment.
Then Magnolia's voice returned softer.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Commander."
Albert continued calmly.
"Defense was successful. Harbor infrastructure remains operational."
"Requesting pension authorization for the families of the deceased."
He looked down at the sheet again.
"I will transmit the names and family records now."
Magnolia responded immediately.
"Send them."
Albert read the names slowly.
Each one.
Each with their service number.
Each with their registered family contact.
The room felt quiet while he spoke them.
After the final name he released the transmit switch briefly.
Magnolia spoke again after several seconds.
"Records received."
A pause followed.
"We'll ensure their families receive the pension."
Albert nodded slightly even though she couldn't see him.
"Thank you."
Magnolia's tone softened again.
"You defended the harbor?"
Albert glanced toward the window where dock workers were already repairing damaged barricades.
"Yes."
"Well done, Commander."
Albert allowed himself a faint breath of relief.
The administrative part of war was never easy.
But it mattered.
The families of those sailors deserved support.
"Magnolia out."
The radio clicked back to static.
Albert slowly placed the microphone back in its cradle.
For a moment he sat quietly again.
Then he pushed his chair back and stood.
There was no time to dwell.
Work waited outside.
Albert stepped out of headquarters and into the morning sunlight.
The harbor smelled different today.
Less like battle.
More like welding smoke, engine grease, and saltwater.
Repair crews had already begun their work along the docks.
Albert walked slowly down the main road toward the waterfront.
Several sailors carrying toolboxes passed him and nodded respectfully.
"Commander."
"Morning, sir."
He returned the nods casually.
The damage from the Mirelurk assault was visible everywhere once you looked closely.
One section of sandbag wall had been completely crushed where a Mirelurk King had slammed into it.
Engineers were already rebuilding it with fresh materials.
Further down the beach a crane lifted broken barricade panels onto a truck.
The cracked pavement near the shoreline was being filled with fresh concrete mix.
Albert approached a group of engineers inspecting the main dock structure.
One of them turned as he approached.
"Commander."
"How bad is it?" Albert asked.
The engineer wiped grease from his hands before answering.
"Could've been worse."
He pointed toward several wooden support beams beneath the dock.
"Two structural supports were damaged during the attack."
Albert followed his gesture.
A team of workers below the dock were already replacing one of the beams with a reinforced metal brace.
"How long to fix?"
The engineer shrugged.
"By tonight the dock should be stable again."
Albert nodded.
"Good."
Further along the shoreline he found Briggs already supervising another repair crew.
Briggs held a clipboard while speaking with two mechanics examining a damaged turret mount.
When he saw Albert approaching he gave a quick nod.
"Morning."
Albert stopped beside him.
"How's it looking?"
Briggs gestured toward the turret.
"Mirelurk King smashed the base plate."
One of the mechanics tapped the damaged metal with a wrench.
"Mount still works," he said.
"But we're replacing the support ring just to be safe."
Albert nodded approvingly.
"Good call."
He looked out across the harbor again.
Workers moved everywhere.
Welding sparks flickered along the docks.
Cranes lifted debris.
Sailors hauled new barricade panels into position.
The harbor was healing.
Briggs followed his gaze.
"Could've been a lot worse."
Albert nodded quietly.
"Yes."
The battle had tested the harbor's defenses.
But it had also proven something important.
The base could survive.
The harbor continued to stir with life long after Albert and Briggs finished their inspection of the turret mount.
Repair work spread across the waterfront like a carefully choreographed operation.
Sparks flew where welders reinforced cracked metal plates along the dock edge. The rhythmic clanging of hammers echoed between the warehouses as crews straightened bent barricade frames. Trucks rattled past carrying crates of replacement materials salvaged from storage depots deeper inside the base.
The battle scars were still visible.
But the harbor wasn't broken.
It was healing.
Albert stood beside Briggs for a moment longer, watching a crane slowly lift a chunk of shattered concrete from the shoreline.
A Mirelurk King had smashed through that section during the fight yesterday. The creature's weight had cracked the pavement like thin ice.
Now workers in heavy gloves guided the crane operator with hand signals as the debris was hauled away.
Briggs scratched his beard thoughtfully.
"You know," he said, glancing toward the activity, "if those Queens had come in from the north side instead of the beach…"
Albert nodded.
"They might have reached the docks before we stopped them."
Briggs grunted.
"Yeah."
Albert folded his arms behind his back.
"That's something we'll address."
Briggs looked over at him.
"Already planning upgrades?"
Albert gave a small smile.
"That's the job."
Briggs chuckled quietly.
"Fair enough."
They walked further down the shoreline together.
A group of sailors were rebuilding the sandbag wall that had collapsed during the attack. Fresh bags were stacked into neat layers while two engineers reinforced the base with steel plates.
One of the younger sailors looked up as Albert approached.
"Morning, Commander."
Albert nodded.
"Morning."
The sailor wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
"Won't happen again, sir. We're doubling the base supports this time."
Albert glanced at the new metal reinforcement plates being bolted into the ground.
"Good thinking."
The sailor straightened slightly, clearly pleased by the approval.
Further along the beach, medics were inspecting the defensive positions where wounded soldiers had been pulled back during the fight. Blood stains had already been washed away by the tide, but the sand still bore marks of yesterday's chaos.
Albert slowed for a moment as he passed.
Briggs noticed.
"Thinking about them again?"
Albert didn't answer immediately.
His eyes lingered on the surf rolling gently against the shore.
Yesterday that water had been filled with claws and shells.
Today it looked peaceful.
Finally he spoke quietly.
"Four men."
Briggs nodded slowly.
"Yeah."
They stood there for a moment.
Then Albert exhaled and straightened.
"Come on."
There was still plenty of ground to cover.
By midday the harbor had settled into a steady rhythm of reconstruction.
Albert made several more stops across the base.
He checked the artillery batteries to ensure the recoil damage from the previous day's firing had been properly inspected.
He reviewed ammunition stock levels with the logistics officers.
He spoke briefly with the medical staff to confirm that all wounded sailors were recovering well.
Everywhere he went the atmosphere was the same.
Tired.
Focused.
But proud.
The base had passed its first real trial.
And everyone knew it.
By the time Albert returned to Naval Headquarters, the sun had climbed high above the harbor.
He stepped inside the building and removed his coat, hanging it on the rack beside the office door.
From the window he could still see cranes moving across the docks like patient metal birds.
The radio set on his desk remained silent.
The report to Magnolia had been sent.
The pensions would reach the families.
That mattered.
Albert sat down briefly and reviewed one last document before closing the folder.
For the moment, the harbor was stable.
Which meant his attention would soon shift elsewhere.
The Commonwealth never stayed quiet for long.
Hundreds of miles inland, far from the salt air and ship horns of the harbor, another center of activity hummed quietly beneath the late morning sky.
The settlement of Sanctuary had grown into something far larger than the scattered houses it once had been.
Wooden watchtowers stood at the edges of the rebuilt streets.
Guard patrols walked the perimeter fences.
Farm fields stretched across the nearby open land where settlers tended crops beneath the sun.
At the heart of it all stood the headquarters of the Freemasons.
Inside the building, the atmosphere was busy but controlled.
Messengers carried reports between departments.
Radio operators monitored frequencies for updates from distant outposts.
Clerks worked through piles of paperwork that never seemed to shrink.
And at the center of that bureaucratic storm sat the man responsible for holding it all together.
Sico leaned slightly forward over his desk.
Stacks of documents surrounded him like a fortress of paper.
His pen moved steadily across the page as he signed another authorization form.
Supply allocations.
Patrol assignments.
Infrastructure repair requests.
Running a growing republic meant endless paperwork.
And today was no exception.
He finished one page, set it aside, and reached for the next.
Outside the office window, the quiet streets of Sanctuary bustled with activity.
Settlers walked between buildings carrying supplies.
A patrol of Freemason soldiers marched past in disciplined formation.
Further away, farmers moved slowly through the green fields under the sun.
For a moment Sico paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He had been working since early morning.
The paperwork had a way of multiplying when he wasn't looking.
Just as he reached for the next document, a knock sounded at the door.
Sico glanced up.
"Come in."
The door opened.
And a familiar figure stepped into the office.
The man wore a worn trench coat and a battered fedora tilted slightly over his brow.
His face carried the weathered features of a lifetime spent chasing trouble.
But the most striking detail was impossible to miss.
His skin was pale and synthetic.
Metal framework showed faintly beneath artificial flesh in several places.
The glowing yellow eyes of a mechanical mind studied the room with quiet intelligence.
It was none other than
Nick Valentine.
Sico leaned back slightly in his chair as a small smile formed.
"Well," he said casually.
"This is a surprise."
Nick removed his hat politely as he stepped inside.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
Sico glanced at the towering stacks of paperwork surrounding him.
"Nothing that won't still be here tomorrow."
Nick chuckled softly.
"Fair enough."
Sico gestured toward the chair across the desk.
"Sit down."
Nick pulled the chair back and lowered himself into it.
He rested the hat on his knee and folded his hands together.
For a moment he simply looked at Sico.
"You've been busy."
Sico gave a quiet laugh.
"That obvious?"
Nick tilted his head toward the paperwork.
"You could start a small library with those stacks."
"Running a republic has its administrative moments."
Nick nodded knowingly.
"I imagine it does."
For a few seconds neither man spoke.
Then Sico leaned forward slightly.
"So," he said.
"What brings you all the way from the police office?"
Nick's expression shifted subtly.
The relaxed humor in his posture faded.
Something more serious replaced it.
"Well," Nick said slowly.
"That's exactly why I'm here."
Sico rested his elbows lightly on the desk.
"Go on."
Nick exhaled through his nose.
"You remember Ellie."
Sico nodded immediately.
Of course he did.
Ellie Perkins had once worked alongside Nick when he ran his detective agency out of Diamond City.
Back then she had been his assistant while he worked freelance cases across the Commonwealth.
After the Freemasons expanded their law enforcement structure, Ellie had eventually joined the new police department under Nick's supervision.
"She doing alright?" Sico asked.
Nick nodded.
"She's fine."
Then he leaned forward slightly.
"But she brought me something yesterday."
Sico raised an eyebrow.
"A case?"
Nick nodded again.
"Missing person."
Sico folded his arms.
"Those aren't unusual."
Nick's glowing eyes narrowed slightly.
"This one's different."
That got Sico's attention.
Nick continued.
"Girl named Kasumi Nakano."
He spoke the name carefully.
"She's the daughter of a fisherman living beyond the northeast boundary of the Commonwealth."
Sico frowned slightly.
"Beyond the boundary?"
Nick nodded.
"Small coastal homestead."
He tapped a finger against the brim of his hat.
"According to Ellie, the parents reported she disappeared a few days ago."
"No signs of struggle?"
"None."
"No ransom?"
Nick shook his head.
"Nothing like that."
Sico leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.
"So what makes this case special enough for you to bring it here?"
Nick hesitated for a second.
Then he answered quietly.
"Because the girl left a note."
Sico's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And?"
Nick looked directly at him.
"The note says she believes she might be a synth."
Silence filled the office.
For several seconds Sico didn't speak.
He simply watched Nick carefully.
Finally he said quietly:
"That would complicate things."
Nick nodded.
"That's what I thought."
Sico stood up slowly and walked toward the office window.
Outside, Sanctuary's rebuilt streets looked peaceful.
But the Commonwealth beyond those walls was still filled with secrets.
And synths were one of the most complicated issues in the entire region.
Some had escaped the Institute.
Some had been freed.
Some didn't even know what they were.
Sico crossed his arms as he looked out at the settlement.
"So the girl believes she's a synth," he said thoughtfully.
Nick stood up from the chair and joined him near the window.
"That's what the note says."
Sico glanced sideways.
"And you think there's more to it."
Nick gave a faint half-smile.
"I've been doing detective work a long time."
He adjusted his fedora slightly.
"When something doesn't feel right… it usually isn't."
Sico nodded slowly.
"And Ellie wants you to investigate."
Nick chuckled quietly.
"She practically shoved the case file into my hands."
He looked back at Sico again.
"But I figured if we're going chasing something like this… I might want a little help."
Sico turned fully toward him.
"Mine."
Nick nodded.
"You've got resources."
He gestured vaguely toward the outside world.
"Patrol networks. Scouts. Contacts across the Commonwealth."
Then he added with a faint smirk.
"And more importantly, you've got experience dealing with synth problems."
Sico let out a slow breath.
He walked back toward the desk and leaned against its edge.
"Kasumi Nakano," he repeated quietly.
Nick nodded.
"That's the name."
Sico thought for several moments.
The Commonwealth had seen enough chaos caused by synth rumors.
A missing girl who believed she might be one could lead to trouble very quickly.
Especially if the wrong people found her first.
Finally Sico looked up again.
"You said the family lives northeast of the Commonwealth?"
Nick nodded.
"Coastal area."
"Fishing family?"
"Yeah."
Sico rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Alright."
Nick waited patiently.
Sico finally straightened.
"Let's hear everything Ellie told you."
Nick smiled faintly.
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
Sico gestured toward the chair again.
"Sit down."
Nick did.
Sico grabbed a fresh notepad from the desk and clicked his pen.
"Start from the beginning."
Nick settled back slightly.
"Alright."
Nick leaned back in the chair and rested his hat once more on his knee.
For a moment he stared at the ceiling of the office as if replaying the conversation in his mind.
Sico waited patiently, pen poised above the notepad.
Outside the window a pair of Freemason patrolmen walked past the headquarters building, rifles slung over their shoulders. Their footsteps faded into the quiet rhythm of Sanctuary's morning.
Nick finally spoke.
"Ellie came into the office yesterday afternoon," he said slowly. "She had that look on her face."
Sico raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That look?"
Nick nodded with a faint smirk.
"You know the one. The 'Nick, I just found something weird and now it's your problem' look."
Sico chuckled quietly.
"I think I've seen it once or twice."
Nick shifted slightly in the chair.
"She had a file in her hand. Thin one. Just a couple pages and a folded piece of paper."
"The note?"
"Yeah."
Nick rubbed the side of his synthetic jaw before continuing.
"She told me the parents had come all the way into the Commonwealth to report their daughter missing."
Sico wrote a quick line on the notepad.
"Names?"
Nick answered without hesitation.
"Kenji Nakano and Rei Nakano."
Sico nodded while writing.
"Fisherman family, you said."
"Right."
Nick continued.
"They live outside the northeastern border of the Commonwealth. Pretty isolated place. Coastal stretch of land, small house, fishing boat tied to a private dock."
"Any nearby settlements?"
"Not many. A couple scattered homesteads according to Ellie's notes. Mostly people who like being left alone."
Sico scribbled another line.
"Which usually means they don't trust outsiders."
Nick smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Kenji Nakano apparently believed something had been wrong for weeks before the girl disappeared."
Sico looked up.
"In what way?"
Nick shrugged lightly.
"Behavior changes. She'd been spending long hours alone in the workshop behind the house."
"Workshop?"
"Yeah. Apparently she liked tinkering with electronics. Radios, small generators, scrap circuitry. The kind of stuff you find washed up along the coast."
Sico's pen paused slightly.
"Smart kid."
Nick nodded.
"Sounds like it."
He tapped a finger against the hat brim again as he remembered more details.
"According to Ellie, the father said Kasumi had started asking strange questions."
"What kind of questions?"
Nick met Sico's eyes.
"Questions about synths."
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Sico slowly wrote that down.
"Specifically?"
Nick shrugged again.
"Things like how someone could know if they were a synth. Whether memories could be fake. Whether someone could be replaced without knowing."
Sico leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Those are… heavy questions for a teenager."
Nick nodded.
"Kenji thought the same thing."
Nick continued.
"He tried asking her why she was interested in that stuff. She brushed it off."
Sico asked quietly,
"And the mother?"
Nick's expression softened slightly.
"Rei Nakano apparently thought it was just curiosity."
He sighed.
"She didn't want to scare the girl by pressing too hard."
Sico nodded slowly.
That sounded painfully familiar.
Parents often ignored warning signs until it was too late.
Nick continued.
"Then a few days ago… Kasumi disappeared."
"No struggle."
"None."
"No witnesses."
"Nope."
Nick tapped the desk lightly.
"The only thing she left behind was that note."
Sico gestured.
"You have it?"
Nick reached into his trench coat.
From an inner pocket he pulled out a folded piece of worn paper.
He placed it carefully on the desk.
Sico picked it up and unfolded it slowly.
The handwriting was neat.
Young.
Careful.
He read silently.
Nick watched him.
The note said that Kasumi believed something about her wasn't right.
She had been having strange thoughts.
Strange feelings.
She wrote that sometimes she felt like her memories didn't belong to her.
That they felt placed.
Inserted.
And near the end of the note came the line that made everything more complicated.
"I think I might be a synth."
Sico lowered the paper slowly.
For a few seconds he simply stared at the desk.
Then he folded the note again.
"Did Ellie verify the handwriting?"
Nick nodded.
"She compared it to other samples from the house. It matches."
Sico sighed quietly.
"Did the parents mention any Institute sightings nearby?"
"No."
"Any strangers?"
Nick shook his head.
"Nothing."
"Any signs she was kidnapped?"
"None."
Sico tapped the note lightly against the desk.
"So the girl leaves a message claiming she might be a synth… then walks away from home."
Nick nodded.
"That's the puzzle."
Sico stood up and walked back to the window again.
Sanctuary's calm streets stretched below.
Children ran between the houses.
Farmers carried baskets of vegetables from the fields.
Life looked peaceful.
But the Commonwealth had taught him something important.
Peace was often temporary.
Behind him Nick spoke again.
"There's one more thing Ellie mentioned."
Sico turned slightly.
"What?"
Nick crossed one leg over the other.
"Kenji Nakano said the girl had been working on something in that workshop."
"What kind of project?"
Nick shrugged.
"He didn't know exactly. Said she kept the door closed most of the time."
"Did he check it after she disappeared?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
Nick's glowing eyes narrowed slightly.
"The equipment was gone."
Sico frowned.
"Gone?"
"Every piece."
"Tools?"
"Missing."
"Circuit boards?"
"Gone."
"Power supplies?"
"Also gone."
Sico's expression hardened slightly.
"That doesn't sound like someone wandering away in confusion."
Nick nodded.
"Exactly."
He leaned forward again.
"That sounds like someone leaving with a plan."
Sico remained silent for several seconds.
Then he walked back toward the desk.
He folded the note once more and placed it beside the notepad.
"You're right," he said quietly.
Nick tilted his head slightly.
"About what?"
Sico looked at him directly.
"This doesn't feel right."
Nick smiled faintly.
"Detective instinct?"
"Leadership instinct."
Nick chuckled.
"Close enough."
Sico suddenly turned toward the office door.
He pressed a small button on the wall intercom.
A moment later a voice crackled through the speaker.
"Yes sir?"
Sico spoke calmly.
"Send a runner to the command courtyard."
"Right away, sir."
Sico released the button and glanced at Nick.
"We're not solving this from behind a desk."
Nick stood up slowly.
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
Less than a minute later there was another knock on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened and a young Freemason soldier stepped inside.
He stood straight immediately.
"Sir."
Sico nodded toward him.
"Relax."
The soldier shifted slightly but remained attentive.
"Yes sir."
Sico walked around the desk.
"Find Preston."
The soldier nodded immediately.
Of course he knew exactly who that meant.
Preston Garvey had become one of the key military coordinators for the Freemasons' growing defense network.
"Tell him I need a convoy ready," Sico continued.
The soldier listened carefully.
"Three Humvees."
Nick raised an eyebrow slightly but stayed quiet.
Sico continued.
"One transport truck."
The soldier repeated quietly,
"Three Humvees. One transport truck."
"Thirty soldiers for escort."
The soldier nodded again.
"Yes sir."
Sico added one last detail.
"We're heading northeast. Coastal route."
The soldier hesitated slightly.
"Mission objective, sir?"
Sico answered simply.
"Investigation."
The soldier saluted.
"Yes sir."
Then he turned and left the office quickly.
The door closed behind him.
Nick looked amused.
"Thirty soldiers."
Sico shrugged.
"You never know what you'll find out there."
Nick tilted his head.
"You expecting trouble?"
Sico picked up his coat from the rack.
"I expect uncertainty."
Nick chuckled softly.
"Fair point."
They stepped out of the office together.
Sanctuary's central courtyard buzzed with activity.
Within minutes word had spread through the command network.
Soldiers moved quickly across the compound preparing vehicles.
Mechanics checked fuel lines.
Crates of supplies were loaded into the transport truck.
Nick and Sico walked toward the staging area.
A familiar voice greeted them halfway across the yard.
"Sir."
They turned.
It was Preston Garvey approaching with purposeful strides.
His coat moved slightly in the breeze as he stopped in front of them.
"You requested a convoy?"
Sico nodded.
"Yes."
Preston glanced briefly at Nick.
Then back to Sico.
"Where are we going?"
Sico answered calmly.
"Northeast coast."
Preston's brow furrowed slightly.
"That's a long drive."
Nick spoke for the first time since leaving the office.
"We're visiting a fisherman."
Preston raised an eyebrow.
"Must be an important fisherman."
Sico gave a faint smile.
"His daughter is missing."
Preston's expression changed immediately.
Concern replaced curiosity.
"Kidnapping?"
Nick answered.
"Maybe."
Sico added quietly.
"Her name is Kasumi Nakano."
Preston nodded slowly.
"Understood."
He turned slightly and waved toward the motor pool.
Within minutes the convoy began assembling.
Three armored Humvees rolled into position at the front.
Behind them the large transport truck rumbled as its engine started.
Thirty Freemason soldiers climbed into their assigned positions.
Rifles checked.
Gear secured.
The entire formation moved with disciplined efficiency.
Nick watched the preparation with quiet appreciation.
"You run a tight operation here."
Sico shrugged.
"We try."
Preston stepped back toward them.
"Convoy will be ready in five minutes."
Sico nodded.
"Good."
Nick placed his fedora back on his head.
"Well," he said.
"Looks like we're going for a drive."
Sico glanced toward the distant road leading out of Sanctuary.
Somewhere beyond the northeastern edge of the Commonwealth, two worried parents were waiting.
And somewhere beyond them, Kasumi Nakano had vanished.
Sico climbed into the lead Humvee.
Nick followed him into the passenger seat.
The engine roared to life.
Preston raised a hand.
The convoy began to move.
And the investigation into Kasumi Nakano's disappearance officially began.
______________________________________________
• 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:-