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He turned, walking slowly toward the center of Sanctuary, boots crunching softly over frost-hardened earth. Behind him, the depot hummed with life, water flowing steadily, barrels being loaded, schedules being checked, orders being finalized. Another crucial piece of the Commonwealth's survival was in motion.
The next morning, the Commonwealth was quieter than usual, a subdued hum beneath the wind's sharp bite. Sico sat in the command tent, the fabric flapping gently against the stakes driven into the frozen earth. The warmth of the heater hissed faintly, a reminder that even small comforts mattered. Outside, the settlement was stirring, though with a different cadence than the chaos of training drills or the rhythmic work of the farm. Today, Sico's attention was elsewhere. Today, information was more crucial than movement, more urgent than action.
He had cleared a small space in the tent, a table set with a few chairs, maps scattered across its surface. Pip-Boy flickered softly against the tent wall, displaying encrypted channels he only used in rare circumstances. Among them, two voices awaited his attention: Madison Li, the brilliant mind responsible for Liberty Prime's revival, and Paladin Danse, whose unwavering loyalty to the Brotherhood was ironically, now leveraged for a far different cause.
Sico adjusted the radio dial, the static crackling like distant thunder. He pressed the communicator to his mouth. "This is Sico. Status update. Danse, you first."
A brief crackle, then the familiar, disciplined tone of Paladin Danse filtered through, steady but weighted with urgency. "Sir, we've made contact with almost a hundred Brotherhood defectors. They're scattered, wary, and deeply mistrustful, but willing to listen. Every day we spend on the ground, more come forward. Their discontent with the current leadership is palpable."
Sico leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A hundred… that's a strong start. But not enough. You said the same last week. How's the morale among them? And what about internal cohesion? Defectors who trust each other are harder to mobilize than a united front."
Danse's voice softened slightly, as if acknowledging the weight of the assessment. "Morale is steady among those who've seen the flaws firsthand. They know the Brotherhood isn't infallible. Cohesion… it's the challenge. They're scattered—small cells, family groups, individuals who've been disillusioned for months or even years. They'll need more time. Trust-building takes longer than a single briefing or pledge."
Sico nodded silently, though Danse could not see him. He had imagined the scope of the task; he had planned for setbacks. "Understood. Keep gathering, but remain careful. Their loyalty is fragile. One misstep, and we risk losing them or, worse, exposing them to the Brotherhood's scrutiny."
"Yes, sir," Danse replied firmly, the discipline in his voice returning to full measure. "We'll continue to consolidate, and I will report weekly or immediately if anything changes."
Sico pressed his lips together for a moment. Almost a hundred people hidden in plain sight, yet the delicate balance of secrecy weighed on him like lead. Each defector was a potential asset—but also a potential liability. Every one of them had families, histories, grudges, fears. And every one of them was a reminder that rebellion could not be rushed; it had to be earned, cultivated with patience, precision, and care.
He switched channels, and a soft, measured voice replaced Danse's. Madison Li. "Sico," she began, her tone meticulous yet tinged with quiet excitement, "Liberty Prime's reconstruction continues. Progress is steady, but we've encountered a critical issue with the power system. The frames and actuators are aligned, the processors calibrated, but we're still searching for an optimal energy distribution configuration. Without it, Liberty Prime cannot function reliably, and we cannot risk activating it until the system is stable."
Sico let out a long breath, leaning forward over the table, eyes scanning the schematics he had reviewed months ago. The enormous figure of Liberty Prime loomed in his mind with steel plates, hydraulics, nuclear power cores, the dormant giant poised to serve as a living symbol and strategic asset for the Republic. He knew the stakes. "How long, realistically?"
Madison's pause was brief but deliberate. "Difficult to say. Weeks at minimum, possibly longer. The Brotherhood is cautious. They haven't found a solution that guarantees stability under variable load conditions. Any miscalculation could result in catastrophic failure, complete loss of Liberty Prime, or worse, an uncontrolled reaction that could destroy everything within range."
Sico nodded slowly. "We can't afford haste, not with something that powerful. Liberty Prime must serve as a symbol and as a practical asset. I don't want a single malfunction giving the Brotherhood or raiders an advantage or giving people the wrong impression of the Republic's strength."
There was a brief silence, and then Madison continued. "We are also considering augmentations to the targeting and sensory modules. The Brotherhood suggested upgrades that could enhance battlefield responsiveness, but they require more calibration time. Again, stability is the priority."
Sico tapped a finger against the table, thinking. His mind flicked between Liberty Prime and the growing Republic. Soldiers in training, fields being sown, water being purified, scouts being organized, and now the slow but critical work of creating a superweapon capable of shifting the balance of power. Each element moved at its own pace, yet every element was connected. A failure in one thread could ripple across the entire network.
"I want weekly updates," Sico said finally. "No surprises. If a solution presents itself, I need to know immediately. And if it fails, same protocol. Liberty Prime's safety and the Republic's credibility depends on it."
Madison's voice softened, almost a whisper, though full of determination. "Understood. We'll continue tests and simulations. Nothing leaves the facility until it's ready."
Sico pressed a button to switch back to Danse's channel. "Paladin, I want you to maintain communication with your defectors. Every cell, every individual, I want reports on morale, numbers, and any incidents. Safety first. Coordination second. But stay vigilant. You are not to engage unless absolutely necessary."
Danse's acknowledgment was crisp. "Understood, sir. No engagement without approval. We'll continue gathering intel and building trust."
Sico leaned back, letting Danse's voice fade from the headset. The weight of command pressed heavily on him, yet a new, sharper thought had begun to take root in his mind. Liberty Prime could wait for stability. The defectors could wait for trust. But supplies, they could not. If they were to grow strong enough to challenge the Brotherhood, if they were to survive against raiders and storms, they needed more than loyalty and courage. They needed tools. Weapons. Armor. Resources that the Brotherhood had accumulated in abundance, often without thought for the lives outside their order.
He pressed the communicator again. "Danse… one more thing." The words left his mouth slowly, each syllable measured. "You know the armories, the supply depots the Brotherhood relies on. I need you to start… slowly siphoning what we can without alerting them. Weapons, ammunition, power armor, anything useful. But subtle. No risks that could expose our people or the defectors. One step at a time. Build capacity before they even realize it."
A pause. Then Danse's tone, uncharacteristically quiet and heavy, responded. "Sir… you understand the consequences. This could be seen as outright treason if discovered. Any mistakes… they will come for us all."
Sico's voice did not waver. "I understand. I've calculated the risk. But we can't wait for perfection. We need our people equipped before winter hits, before the Brotherhood consolidates. Start small. Make each action count, and make it invisible. Use the cells you've been organizing. Each defector who's already disillusioned can be an asset. Assign them carefully. Don't take lives unnecessarily. Stealth first, speed second, power last."
Danse exhaled sharply, almost audibly through the static. "Understood. I'll proceed with caution. Small gains. One at a time."
"Exactly," Sico said. "Think of it as laying the groundwork. Each weapon, each suit of power armor we recover… it becomes leverage. Protection. Freedom. And the closer they get to Liberty Prime being operational, the more effective these assets become."
A brief silence passed, filled only by the static crackle from the radio. Then Sico added, his voice softer but no less firm: "Danse listen carefully. Do not take unnecessary risks for personal glory. Every defector, every piece of equipment, every plan… it is a thread in a larger tapestry. Pull too hard, and the whole thing unravels. Patience. Precision. Subtlety. That is how we survive. That is how we win."
Danse's acknowledgment was a whisper now, tense but resolute. "Understood, sir. The threads will not be broken. They will be carefully woven."
Sico leaned back in the chair, eyes drifting to the frost-laden horizon outside the tent. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine the operation unfolding. Defectors moving under cover of night, small groups slipping into armories, bypassing patrols, lifting weapons, ammunition, and power armor with quiet precision. Each success a silent victory. Each misstep… a danger he could not allow.
He felt the pulse of the Commonwealth beyond room as settlers tending crops, soldiers drilling, scouts scouting, engineers repairing, water flowing. Every operation, every task, every small act of survival was interconnected. And now, hidden in the shadows, an operation within the shadows would begin, one that could alter the balance of power.
Sico allowed his mind to shift to Liberty Prime, that dormant giant of steel and nuclear energy. Madison Li's words echoed in his ears. Stability was paramount. Every weapon siphoned, every suit of power armor retrieved, every recruit trained carefully and patiently… all these assets would converge the moment Liberty Prime activated. It would be a storm the Brotherhood could not ignore. But until then, they had to move like ghosts, unseen yet effective, patient yet relentless.
He leaned over the table, scanning the notes he had compiled from Danse and Madison, cross-referencing defectors' locations, patrol schedules, supply manifests, and Liberty Prime's projected timeline. The scale of the task was staggering, but for the first time in weeks, Sico felt the faint spark of controlled anticipation. This was not chaos. This was careful orchestration, the weaving of survival into an art form.
He pressed the communicator once more, just to confirm. "Danse… remember, nothing you take is expendable. Keep meticulous records, mark locations discreetly, and ensure each item reaches the defectors intact. No losses. Not yet."
There was a pause, then Danse's low, steady tone. "I will ensure accountability. No one will be left without the proper equipment. Nothing is wasted."
A week had passed since Sico had given Danse the instructions to begin quietly siphoning the Brotherhood's supplies, a week filled with the constant hum of planning, coordination, and silent anticipation. Sanctuary itself seemed to pulse with the rhythm of a living organism, each corner of the settlement moving in sync with the others, yet underneath, a subtle tension threaded through the air. Soldiers drilled harder than ever, new recruits pushing themselves under Sarah's sharp guidance, and Preston organized logistics for the expanded food and supply chain with meticulous precision.
Sico sat in his office at the Freemasons HQ, with his office that lined with maps, schematics, and radio equipment. The faint glow of the heater cast long shadows across the room, mingling with the golden light of a low sun filtering through the frost-coated windows. He leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the reports and charts stacked neatly on his desk.
The past week had been an intricate balance. He had kept the defectors' operation tightly compartmentalized, giving Danse the freedom to move in shadows while staying vigilant. Each report filtered in, carefully vetted, each piece of information verified before influencing Sico's next decision. It had been a week of cautious growth, of weaving a net that had begun to pull the threads of the Brotherhood's discontent toward the Republic's side.
The radio crackled suddenly, breaking the low hum of the office. Sico's fingers moved instantly, adjusting the dial, pressing the communicator to his mouth. "This is Sico. Go ahead, Danse."
The familiar, disciplined voice came through, crisp and focused, but with an unmistakable weight of satisfaction beneath the surface. "Sir, we have completed the first phase of operations. I am reporting from one of our secure positions near the old Cambridge supply depot. The operation has progressed better than anticipated."
Sico leaned forward, letting his gaze settle on the frost forming on the windowpane. "Go on," he said, voice steady. "I want details."
Danse's tone softened slightly, though the weight of responsibility was clear. "Over the past seven days, we have increased our numbers substantially. We now have 257 individuals who are ready to defect and integrate fully into your network. Another 100 are scheduled to join tomorrow, pending final confirmation of loyalty and readiness assessments. Each individual has been briefed on operational security and instructed in the use of all available resources, with particular attention to stealth and discretion."
Sico let that sink in. Almost 360 people, quietly consolidated from the Brotherhood itself, each one a potential agent, a fighter, a shield for the growing Republic. He allowed a small smile to form at the corner of his lips. This was more than a ripple of dissent. This was a wave forming in the shadows, patient, careful, unstoppable if nurtured properly.
"Excellent," he said finally. "And the equipment?"
Another pause, deliberate, as if Danse were carefully weighing his words. "Sir… we have secured a substantial amount of material. Weapons caches, ammunition, combat armor of various grades, and most notably is twenty-five fully operational T-60 Power Armor suits. All assets have been moved to secure locations, documented with encrypted logs, and are ready to be distributed to the defectors upon their arrival."
Sico's hand tightened slightly around the radio. T-60 armor. Not the most advanced models, but heavily armored, reliable, and a game-changer for small units operating against the Brotherhood or raider forces. Each suit represented not just protection but a psychological edge—a promise that the Republic was a force to be reckoned with.
"You did well," he said finally, letting a note of genuine appreciation creep into his voice. "Every individual, every piece of equipment… you've turned patience into progress. This is exactly the kind of foundation we need."
There was a brief pause, then Danse replied, voice quiet but firm. "We have been careful, sir. No unnecessary risks. The Brotherhood remains unaware, and the defectors have maintained secrecy and discipline. Only minor logistical challenges arose, all of which have been addressed without incident."
Sico allowed himself a moment to exhale. The tension he had carried since issuing his orders with the weight of responsibility, the risk of exposure had eased slightly. But only slightly. The operation was far from complete. Every day that passed, every shipment of weapons and armor, every new defector, could shift the delicate balance of secrecy and safety. One misstep could compromise weeks of careful planning, undo months of groundwork.
"Good," he said. "Keep it that way. Maintain rotations, continue vetting the incoming defectors, and ensure that no unauthorized movements occur near the Brotherhood's lines. Remember, Danse… this isn't about aggression. It's about preparation, security, and building capacity. Every step we take must be measured, deliberate."
"I understand, sir," Danse replied. "All movements will be discreet. No engagements unless absolutely necessary. Each individual has been briefed in stealth protocols and operational security."
Sico's gaze drifted to the maps pinned along the wall, lines tracing patrol routes, supply routes, known Brotherhood positions, and safe drop points for the defectors' gear. He envisioned the Power Armor suits with twenty-five in total—each one a silent guardian waiting to be distributed, each one a symbol of the Republic's quiet power growing in the shadows. He imagined the defectors, wearing the suits, carrying weapons recovered from the Brotherhood's own stores, moving through the night like ghosts, ready to tip the scales when the moment arrived.
"And the remaining 100 defectors?" Sico asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Are they fully ready to integrate tomorrow? Any risk of hesitation?"
Danse's voice carried a faint edge of relief. "They are nearly prepared. Only a few require additional reassurance and confirmation of loyalty. Our teams will meet with them individually tonight. By tomorrow, all one hundred should be fully integrated and operational. I anticipate no significant delays."
Sico nodded slowly, letting the information settle. Almost 360 trained, armed, and ready individuals in their network, operating in the shadows of the Brotherhood's sprawling operations. The scale of it was dizzying, but controlled. Each thread carefully woven into a broader tapestry that, when fully revealed, could change the balance of power in the Commonwealth entirely.
"Good work, Danse," Sico said finally. "Keep communication lines open. Weekly status reports are essential, but I want immediate alerts if any complications arise. Liberty Prime is still the cornerstone, but these defectors… they are the edge we need in the meantime. The equipment, the armor, the weapons as they are the tools, but the people are the force."
A pause, then a soft but firm acknowledgment from Danse. "Understood, sir. Each individual is accounted for, and all resources are cataloged. No asset will be left unmonitored. We move as a unit, invisible but prepared."
Sico exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. The hum of the HQ around him with the faint ticking of a clock, the distant murmurs of administrative staff, the quiet thrum of the heating system was a grounding contrast to the invisible, tense operations unfolding beyond the city limits. In his mind, he could see the defectors gathering, assembling in small, discreet groups, armed with their newly acquired weapons and clad in armor taken from the very hands of those who would otherwise see them as traitors. He imagined their faces with nervous, determined, ready to take the next step toward freedom.
This was the delicate dance of insurgency, the quiet art of rebellion without chaos. And for the first time, Sico felt the faint thrill of its potential. Every step measured, every success silent, every gain invisible until revealed at the right moment as this was the careful, human side of war. Not reckless charges, not blinding assaults, but the slow accumulation of strength, patience, and precision.
"Danse," Sico said after a pause, his tone quieter now, almost reflective, "we're not just building a force. We're building hope. Each one of these defectors… they are reclaiming agency. They are choosing to fight for something better, not out of fear or indoctrination, but because they believe in it. That… that is worth protecting above all else."
There was silence on the other end of the line, a brief, almost contemplative pause. Then Danse replied, voice low but steady: "I understand, sir. Each individual knows what they are fighting for, and I will ensure that their trust is not misplaced. They are prepared, not just physically, but mentally. Every step forward strengthens their resolve."
Sico allowed himself a small nod, almost imperceptible, before leaning back fully in his chair, closing his eyes for just a moment. The weight of command had not lessened as it would never lessen, but it was tempered by the knowledge that his people, those he had trusted, were moving with him, step by careful step, through the shadows toward a brighter, stronger Commonwealth.
He pressed the communicator lightly one last time. "Maintain operational silence. No mistakes. Every individual, every suit of armor, every cache track it. And Danse… thank you. For everything you've done this week. You've made a difference. And tomorrow, we continue. We grow stronger. We prepare."
"Understood, sir," Danse replied, a faint warmth in his voice now, almost imperceptible but real. "Tomorrow, we grow stronger. And I will ensure that no shadow goes unseen, no movement unaccounted for. The Republic will be ready."
The day after Sico's conversation with Danse, the morning sunlight crept through the frosted windows of the Freemasons HQ, casting long, pale beams across the maps and schematics sprawled across his desk. The Commonwealth outside was waking slowly. Frost lingered on rooftops, and the faint smell of wood smoke mingled with the crisp chill of winter air. Sanctuary itself seemed quieter than usual, the usual bustle of drills and labor muted by the anticipation of what was to come.
Sico sat at his desk, tapping a finger against the polished wood as he reviewed the latest communications and cross-referenced the defectors' readiness reports. His mind was already several steps ahead, calculating supply routes, coordinating stealth movements, and visualizing contingencies. The careful orchestration of nearly 360 defectors was no small task, and now, with the T-60 Power Armor and weapons caches secured, he could begin the next phase: moving the first wave toward Sanctuary itself.
He pressed the communicator lightly. The familiar static hiss filled the quiet room, followed by Danse's crisp, steady tone. "Sico."
"Danse," Sico began, voice calm but imbued with the weight of command, "the next step begins the day after tomorrow. The defectors are ready to move. I want you to order them to start their journey to Sanctuary. We will coordinate from here, but they must begin without delay."
There was a pause on the line. Danse's tone carried both respect and caution. "Understood, sir. And your instruction regarding Madison Li?"
Sico allowed a faint smile to form at the corner of his lips, knowing the trust he was placing in Danse carried more than just the tactical weight of command. "You will remain behind. Keep Madison safe. She is invaluable, not just for Liberty Prime, but for the Republic's long-term strategic position. Your presence will also serve as a discreet observation post near Maxson. I need eyes and ears on the Brotherhood, and you are the best I have to place in proximity without drawing suspicion."
Danse's acknowledgment was immediate, disciplined. "Understood, sir. Madison Li's safety will not be compromised. I will ensure Maxson's movements are monitored while maintaining operational security. The defectors' movement to Sanctuary will be coordinated, and I will remain in position to respond if anything threatens their progress."
"Good," Sico said, letting the words sink in, though his mind was already running through contingencies. "Remember, Danse… the journey must be subtle. The defectors are ready, yes, but they are still vulnerable. Raiders, patrols, harsh weather as any misstep could jeopardize weeks of careful preparation. Every movement must be calculated, and every individual accounted for."
"I understand, sir," Danse replied. "Each unit will move in staggered groups, with scouts leading and rear security covering the retreat. Supply caches will be deployed along the route discreetly, and all equipment will be logged and tracked."
Sico leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as he imagined the operation unfolding. He could see the first small wave of defectors leaving under the cover of dawn, silent figures moving through the frost-bitten fields of the Commonwealth. He imagined them pausing at hidden caches to rest, gathering water and rations prepared in advance, each man and woman carrying weapons salvaged from the Brotherhood itself, armored in the very suits that had once represented the oppressive power they now rejected.
"Danse," he said after a pause, voice lower now, reflective, "this isn't just a movement of people. It's a statement. Every defector who reaches Sanctuary is proof that the Brotherhood is not infallible. That even in the face of indoctrination and hierarchy, individuals can make the choice to fight for something better. That… that choice, and that hope, is as powerful as any weapon."
There was silence on the other end of the line, a pause that carried the weight of understanding and responsibility. Then Danse's voice returned, low and steady, but with a note of respect that underscored the gravity of the mission. "Sir, I understand. Every individual is aware of what they represent, and I will ensure that none are left behind. Their movement will be precise, and every step will reinforce their belief in the cause."
Sico nodded, even though Danse could not see him. "Exactly. Precision, patience, and protection. Do not underestimate the importance of subtlety. This journey is not a victory march, it is the careful planting of seeds. And each seed that reaches Sanctuary strengthens the Republic."
A faint crackle followed on the line, as Danse's voice softened. "Understood, sir. I will coordinate with the defectors tonight, providing final instructions and ensuring readiness for the journey. All measures will be in place to mitigate risk and maintain discretion."
Sico pressed the communicator lightly again. "One more thing, Danse. Communication will be limited during transit. No unnecessary transmissions. Only encrypted signals for emergencies or critical updates. The less we broadcast, the less likely the Brotherhood will detect us. Every silence is a shield."
Danse's acknowledgment was immediate. "Understood, sir. All transmissions will be encrypted and minimized. The defectors are briefed on radio discipline and stealth protocols."
Sico exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment pressing against him. The day after tomorrow, the first wave would move. Soon, the Republic would be stronger not just through strategy or Liberty Prime, but through the quiet, determined courage of those who had chosen a different path.
"Very well," Sico said finally. "Prepare them for departure. I will oversee logistics here, ensuring Sanctuary is ready to receive them. Assign scouts along the route to monitor for raiders, patrols, and weather. Every detail matters."
"Yes, sir," Danse replied. "The defectors will depart with full awareness of their responsibilities. Route markers, supply caches, and contingency plans are all in place. No detail will be overlooked."
Sico allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, leaning back in his chair, the low hum of the heater and the faint wind outside grounding him in the reality of the Commonwealth. He could almost hear the faint crunch of snow under boots, the whisper of armor moving in shadows, the silent assurance that the first threads of the Republic's expanded network were beginning to weave themselves together.
The next morning arrived with a brittle chill in the air, frost clinging to the edges of the Freemasons HQ windows and curling in delicate patterns across the maps that lined the walls. Sico rose early, moving deliberately through his office, checking schematics, supply logs, and route charts. Every route for the defectors had been mapped, every cache positioned for both speed and security. The wagons carrying provisions had been loaded quietly, the stealth scouts briefed on contingencies ranging from raider attacks to severe weather.
By mid-morning, a secure channel opened, and Danse's voice came through, calm but deliberate. "Sir, the defectors are ready. Small groups are assembled and briefed. All units have reviewed route instructions and supply protocols. Departure is scheduled for two hours from now, under cover of early morning shadows. No one will move until all is confirmed."
Sico pressed the communicator to his mouth, voice calm but firm. "Good. Begin staggered departures. First wave moves with scouts leading, rear coverage maintaining secrecy. No deviations. No mistakes. Keep the movements invisible, deliberate, and controlled. Report only if necessary."
"Understood, sir," Danse replied. "All units are ready. I will remain here to ensure Madison Li's security and maintain observation of Brotherhood activity near Maxson. No disruptions will occur on my watch."
Sico allowed himself a small nod, even though Danse could not see it. He could almost feel the tension in the Commonwealth dissipate slightly, replaced with the faint, controlled thrill of progress. This was no longer theory or preparation; this was action.
He turned his gaze toward the window, imagining the defectors slipping through frost-covered fields, moving like shadows beneath the pale morning sun. He envisioned the small groups pausing at pre-marked locations to gather supplies, checking weapons, adjusting armor, coordinating silently through hand signals. Each step, each mile traveled, was a silent assertion of agency, a rejection of the Brotherhood's authority, a careful, patient march toward freedom.
The logistics teams in Sanctuary were already prepared, loading provisions, readying beds, and marking safe houses for arrival. The settlement had expanded quietly, fortified subtly, with storage for the incoming weapons, armor, and supplies. Magnolia had increased the water purification cycles to accommodate additional mouths, and Preston had ensured that food reserves could sustain an unexpected influx.
Sico's mind flicked between the threads of the operation with the defectors moving silently through the Commonwealth, Liberty Prime's ongoing reconstruction under Madison Li's careful oversight, the growing power of the Republic, and the ever-watchful eyes of the Brotherhood. He felt the weight of every decision, the responsibility for each life, and the pressure of maintaining secrecy while orchestrating a network of nearly 360 people in the shadows.
________________________________________________
• 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:-