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Curie stood inside one of the clean rooms, watching her team work, pride settling into something deeper than joy. As they weren't just making medicine, but they were changing the future.
The next day did not slow down.
If anything, it accelerated.
By midmorning, the Administrative Building had taken on a kind of controlled chaos that Sico recognized immediately with the sound of something working exactly as intended, but at the very edge of its capacity. Voices overlapped in measured tones. Paper rustled. Terminals chimed softly as numbers were entered, verified, entered again. Guards stood at their posts not rigidly, but alert, eyes tracking movement, reading faces.
This was not panic.
This was demand.
Sico stepped through the main doors and paused just long enough to take it in.
The Administrative Building had always been busy from logistics, governance, trade permits, military coordination, but today it felt different. Heavier. Charged. Like the air itself knew something fundamental had shifted.
At the far end of the main hall, Magnolia's office doors were open.
And the line outside them was longer than he had ever seen.
Representatives from settlements across the Commonwealth filled the corridor and spilled into the hall beyond. Some wore clean coats and carried ledgers tucked neatly under their arms. Others bore the dust of long travel on their boots and cloaks, faces lined by hard years in irradiated zones. Caravan leaders. Settlement elders. Independent traders. Even a few figures Sico recognized as intermediaries—people who spoke for places that didn't like to be named out loud.
They waited.
Not impatiently.
Respectfully.
Magnolia had done that. Over years of careful dealing, of fairness enforced with steel-backed resolve, she had built something rare: trust that held even under pressure.
Sico walked past them without ceremony.
Some noticed him immediately, straightening, murmurs rippling through the line. Others were too focused on rehearsing numbers in their heads to look up. He caught fragments of conversation as he passed.
"…we can cover thirty units, upfront…"
"…caps are ready, we just need confirmation…"
"…our children can't go near the old water plant without it…"
He didn't stop.
He pushed through the open doors.
Inside Magnolia's office, the pace doubled.
The room was large but efficiently arranged. Maps covered one wall, marked with trade routes and settlement names in careful handwriting. Another wall held shelves of ledgers, each labeled and cataloged. A long central table was covered in documents, cap-count trays, and terminals displaying transaction queues.
Magnolia stood at the head of it all.
Her posture was relaxed, almost casual, but her eyes were sharp, constantly moving, catching inconsistencies before they could become problems. She wore her usual suit that immaculate, understated, unmistakably hers. Two assistants flanked her, one tracking orders, the other confirming inventory allocations. A third moved between stations, delivering updates in a low voice.
She looked up when she saw Sico.
And smiled.
"Well," she said, "if it isn't the reason I haven't had a quiet minute since dawn."
Sico returned the smile faintly. "Looks like business is good."
Magnolia let out a soft laugh. "Good is an understatement."
She gestured subtly with her chin toward the room beyond the doors. "You see that line?"
"I did," Sico replied.
"That's just the first wave," Magnolia said. "I've got runners outside managing overflow and scheduling. If we let everyone in at once, we'd drown."
Sico stepped closer to the table, eyes scanning the figures already logged.
"How many requests?" he asked.
Magnolia didn't hesitate. "So far? Enough to empty today's stock twice over."
His expression remained calm, but something tightened behind his eyes.
"And pricing?" he asked.
Magnolia's gaze met his directly. "One hundred caps per unit."
Sico nodded once.
"That's fair," he said.
"Fair and deliberate," Magnolia replied. "Low enough that settlements can pool resources. High enough that no one buys it just to hoard."
She tapped one of the ledgers. "And it weeds out opportunists."
Sico glanced at the entries. "Any pushback?"
"Some," Magnolia admitted. "A few tried to argue scarcity pricing. I shut that down immediately."
She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. "They wanted to buy everything."
Sico's eyes hardened. "They won't."
"They won't," Magnolia agreed calmly. "I made that very clear."
She straightened and gestured toward a chair. "Sit. You're going to want to hear the breakdown."
Sico took the seat, folding his hands loosely as Magnolia began to speak.
"Diamond City wants an initial allocation of fifty," she said. "They're coordinating distribution through their clinic and water purification crews."
Sico nodded. "Approved."
"Goodneighbor wants thirty," Magnolia continued. "Hancock himself sent a message. He's willing to pay upfront."
"That tracks," Sico said dryly.
"Vault 81 wants twenty," she went on. "Strictly medical use."
"Approved," Sico replied immediately.
Magnolia's assistant chimed in. "Bunker Hill's traders are requesting forty, pooled across three caravans."
"Approved," Sico said again.
The list kept coming.
Smaller settlements asking for five, ten, fifteen. Groups of farmers wanting just enough to clear a field or repair an old generator without poisoning themselves. Scavenger crews planning expeditions into zones long written off as death traps.
As Magnolia spoke, Sico realized something.
This wasn't desperation.
This was planning.
People weren't panicking. They weren't grabbing whatever they could. They were calculating. Budgeting. Thinking long-term.
The Commonwealth was responding like a society, not a wasteland.
"That's encouraging," Sico said quietly.
Magnolia smiled faintly. "I thought you'd like that."
She paused, then added, "There's more."
Sico looked up. "Go on."
"We've had inquiries from… farther out," Magnolia said carefully. "Not officially. Through intermediaries."
Sico leaned back slightly. "How far?"
"Far enough that the road matters," she said. "Places that don't usually look this way unless something's changed."
Sico considered that.
"Put them on a waiting list," he said. "No promises yet."
Magnolia nodded. "Already done."
She glanced toward the door again as another murmur rose from the hallway.
"You realize," she said, "this makes Sanctuary the center of medical trade in the Commonwealth."
"Yes," Sico replied. "And that comes with risk."
"And profit," Magnolia added, not unkindly.
"Yes," he said again. "But profit isn't the point."
She studied him for a moment.
"No," she said. "It isn't. But it helps keep the lights on."
Sico smiled faintly. "That it does."
An assistant approached, whispering something into Magnolia's ear. She nodded, then waved them off.
"Another representative from the north," she said. "They're… persistent."
Sico stood. "I'll observe."
Magnolia raised an eyebrow. "You want to be seen?"
"Yes," Sico replied. "Not as a threat. As reassurance."
She considered that, then nodded. "All right."
They moved together toward the door. Magnolia stepped out first, her presence immediately calming the crowd. Conversations quieted. People straightened. A few nodded respectfully.
Magnolia raised her voice just enough to carry.
"Everyone will be seen," she said evenly. "Everyone will be treated fairly. We will not rush this."
The tension eased.
Sico stood just behind her, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed but unmistakably authoritative. He didn't speak yet. He simply met eyes when they turned toward him.
Some faces showed relief.
Others calculation.
A few, awe.
The representative from the north stepped forward with a woman in her forties, weathered, sharp-eyed.
"We've heard the price," she said. "One hundred caps."
"That's correct," Magnolia replied.
"And supply?" the woman asked, glancing briefly at Sico. "How long will it last?"
Sico spoke then, his voice calm, carrying without force.
"As long as people need it," he said. "Production is ongoing."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
The woman nodded slowly. "Then we'll take ten. To start."
Magnolia smiled. "Done."
As the next representative stepped forward, Sico felt something settle into place.
This wasn't just trade.
It was trust being negotiated in real time.
By afternoon, the first shipments were being prepared.
Crates marked clearly, sealed carefully, logged twice. Guards escorted them not with intimidation, but professionalism. Magnolia's staff moved like a well-practiced machine, every hand knowing its role.
Sico stepped back into the office as Magnolia finished signing off on another order.
"You're going to be busy for a long time," he said.
Magnolia leaned back in her chair, exhaling. "Worth it."
She glanced up at him. "You know what the Brotherhood's thinking right now, don't you?"
"Yes," Sico replied. "And they're not alone."
Magnolia smirked. "No. They're just louder."
Sico looked out the window, toward the distant line of the checkpoint, the faint silhouettes of power armor standing watch.
"Let them think," he said. "We're not doing anything wrong."
Magnolia's gaze followed his. "No," she agreed. "You're doing something unprecedented."
Magnolia's words lingered with him as Sico left the Administrative Building.
Unprecedented.
It was a word people used when they didn't yet know whether to be afraid or hopeful, when the ground beneath old assumptions started to shift. Sanctuary had crossed that line quietly, without ceremony, without banners. It hadn't declared itself a power.
It had simply become one.
Outside, the afternoon light washed over the settlement, pale winter sun reflecting off newly reinforced walls and solar arrays. The air smelled faintly of clean metal, wood smoke, and antiseptic drifting from the hospital wing. People moved with purpose as carriers hauling sealed crates toward the loading yard, scribes double-checking manifests, guards rotating shifts with practiced ease.
Sico walked alone.
Not because he needed to, but because he preferred it when thinking ahead.
Every step away from the Administrative Building felt like stepping forward in time. Rad-X was only the beginning. He knew that. Magnolia knew it. The Brotherhood knew it. The Commonwealth, even if it couldn't articulate it yet, felt it.
Medicine changed everything.
Bullets ended fights.
Medicine ended wars slowly, by removing the desperation that fed them.
His destination rose ahead: the hospital complex, clean-lined and solid, the pharmaceutical lab glowing faintly beside it like a promise that refused to dim.
Two soldiers stood guard at the hospital entrance.
They straightened when they saw him, not snapping to attention, but acknowledging him with the easy confidence of people who trusted the man walking toward them.
"Sir," one of them said.
Sico nodded. "How's it been?"
"Busy," the other replied. "But calm. People are… different today."
Sico glanced past them, toward the interior corridors. "Different how?"
The soldier considered it. "Less afraid, I think."
Sico gave a faint smile. "Good."
He moved past them toward the secured lab entrance. The guards stepped aside smoothly, already reaching for the scanner. Sico pressed his thumb against the biometric panel. The system hummed softly, read his print, confirmed identity.
Access granted.
The door slid open with a quiet hiss.
Inside, the air changed immediately.
Cleaner. Cooler. Filtered to a level that still felt strange in the Commonwealth, as if the world beyond radiation had been remembered and rebuilt piece by piece. The soft hum of machines formed a constant backdrop from a life-support systems for something more fragile than any human body: hope made material.
Curie's lab lay ahead.
Through the glass partition, he could already see her.
She sat at her desk, posture straight, shoulders relaxed but intent, eyes fixed on a terminal screen dense with data. Her fingers moved with precision, entering notes, adjusting parameters, cross-referencing results. Around her, the lab was alive with quiet motion with centrifuges spinning, containment units glowing softly, diagnostic instruments tracking variables too small for the human eye to see.
She did not look up when he entered.
Not because she hadn't noticed.
Because she was deep inside a problem.
Sico paused just inside the door, watching her for a moment.
Curie in motion was something few people truly understood. There was no wasted energy, no frantic movement. Everything she did carried intention. Even now, after the Rad-X breakthrough, after the broadcasts and the celebrations, she hadn't slowed down.
If anything, she'd accelerated.
Sico cleared his throat gently.
"Doctor."
Curie's fingers stilled.
She looked up, eyes brightening immediately when she saw him.
"Sico," she said, rising from her chair. "You are earlier than I expected."
"Magnolia's office was… productive," he replied.
Curie smiled faintly. "I can imagine."
She gestured toward a chair across from her desk. "Please. Sit."
He did.
The chair was comfortable in a way most Commonwealth furniture wasn't that designed for long hours of work rather than survival. Curie resumed her seat, folding her hands lightly atop the desk.
"How are you holding up?" Sico asked.
Curie tilted her head slightly, considering the question. "Tired," she admitted. "But in a good way."
She glanced briefly toward the lab beyond the glass. "My team is performing exceptionally well. There is pride in that. And responsibility."
"Yes," Sico said. "There always is."
They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the lab filling the space between them.
"Rad-X is already moving," Sico said finally. "Settlements are planning, not panicking."
Curie's expression softened. "That was my hope."
"It's more than hope now," he replied. "It's happening."
She inclined her head slightly, accepting the statement without triumph. Curie never celebrated outcomes that only process and impact.
"That's why I'm here," Sico said.
Curie's eyes sharpened, attentive. "I suspected as much."
"I want to know what comes next," he said. "From you. Not from politics. Not from demand. From science."
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stood and moved toward the glass wall, looking out at the lab floor where her team worked with careful focus. She folded her arms loosely, gaze thoughtful.
"There are many directions we could go," she said slowly. "Antibiotics refinement. Anti-mutagenic therapies. Long-term radiation damage reversal."
Sico watched her, letting her speak at her own pace.
"But," Curie continued, turning back toward him, "there is one area that remains… deeply flawed in the Commonwealth."
She returned to her desk and rested a hand on it, leaning slightly forward.
"Stimpaks," she said.
Sico's expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes sharpened.
"Go on."
Curie took a breath.
"Stimpaks are ubiquitous," she said. "Everyone uses them. Everyone relies on them. And yet, almost no one understands them."
She moved to a terminal and brought up a schematic that fragmentary, incomplete.
"Most Stimpaks currently in circulation are pre-war stock," she explained. "Degraded. Inconsistent. Some have been diluted. Others contaminated. Many cause side effects that go undocumented because people are simply grateful to survive."
Sico frowned slightly. "We've seen that in the field."
"Yes," Curie said. "Delayed healing. Tissue inflammation. Dependency. Variability in potency."
She turned to face him fully.
"We are relying on a miracle we cannot replace."
Silence settled between them.
"That's dangerous," Sico said.
"Extremely," Curie replied. "Especially now."
"Now that we've shown what's possible," he finished.
Curie nodded.
"If Freemasons can produce Rad-X," she said, "people will begin to ask why we cannot produce other essentials. And they will be right to ask."
She tapped the screen, highlighting a section of degraded data.
"The original Stimpak formula was elegant," she said. "Complex, but elegant. It combined rapid tissue regeneration, pain suppression, and cellular stabilization. But it was designed for a world with infrastructure. With factories. With controlled environments."
She spread her hands slightly.
"We do not have that world," she said. "Yet."
Sico leaned forward. "But you think it's possible."
Curie met his gaze.
"Yes," she said simply. "I do."
There was no bravado in her voice. No exaggeration.
Just certainty earned through understanding.
"I would not propose this if I did not believe it could be done safely," she added. "And ethically."
Sico considered the implications.
"If you succeed," he said, "we're not just talking about trade."
"No," Curie agreed. "We are talking about survival rates changing across the Commonwealth. About injuries no longer meaning death. About soldiers returning home instead of being buried."
She hesitated, then added softly, "About civilians surviving accidents that would otherwise end them."
Sico exhaled slowly.
"And the risks?" he asked.
Curie didn't flinch.
"Significant," she said. "Research would require controlled trials. Materials sourcing. A clean production line even more demanding than Rad-X. And time."
"How much?" he asked.
"Maybe months," Curie replied. "Not days. Not weeks."
Sico nodded. "We have time."
Curie studied him. "Do we?"
He met her gaze steadily. "We'll make it."
She smiled faintly, something warm and human beneath the clinical exterior.
"Then," she said, "I would like to begin with reverse engineering."
"Of existing Stimpaks?" Sico asked.
"Yes," Curie replied. "But not merely copying. Improving."
She moved back to her desk and retrieved a small sealed case. Opening it carefully, she revealed several Stimpaks that different makes, different ages, some visibly worn.
"These are samples collected from across the Commonwealth," she said. "Different sources. Different conditions. I want to understand precisely how they fail."
Sico watched her handle them with almost reverent care.
"If we can isolate the core regenerative mechanism," Curie continued, "we can rebuild it using materials we can actually source. We can remove unstable compounds. We can reduce side effects."
"And produce them here," Sico said.
"Yes," Curie replied. "Here. Safely."
He leaned back, absorbing it.
"This will draw attention," he said.
Curie nodded. "It already has."
"The Brotherhood," he said.
"And others," she added quietly.
Sico's jaw tightened slightly. "Your safety will be increased."
Curie looked at him sharply. "I do not want this research weaponized."
"It won't be," he said immediately.
She searched his face.
"Promise me," she said.
"I promise," Sico replied without hesitation. "Medicine stays medicine."
She relaxed slightly, satisfied.
"Then I will begin immediately," Curie said.
She paused, then added with a touch of dry humor, "After I finish documenting today's Rad-X batch."
Sico smiled. "Of course."
He stood.
"Curie," he said, stopping before leaving. "What you've already done… it's changed everything."
She met his eyes, steady and sincere.
"No," she said. "It has begun to."
Outside the lab, the doors sealed again behind him.
Sico walked back into the hospital corridor, past nurses moving with renewed confidence, past patients who no longer looked like they were waiting to die.
The next day proved that hope, once awakened, did not know how to queue politely.
By the time the sun cleared the outer wall and spilled into Sanctuary proper, the Administrative Building was already alive with voices. Not raised in anger that at least not yet, but layered with urgency. Radios crackled in side offices. Couriers moved at a jog. Guards rotated in tighter intervals, not because they expected violence, but because crowds had weight, and weight required balance.
Sico stood just inside the entrance again, taking it in.
The line outside Magnolia's office had doubled.
It stretched down the corridor, turned the corner, and spilled into the main hall. Some people had clearly arrived before dawn, sitting on crates or leaning against walls, ledgers open on their knees, numbers recalculated for the fifth or sixth time. Others had come in a hurry, coats still dusted with road grit, eyes sharp with the intensity of those who had ridden good news hard and fast.
Rad-X had become real.
And reality, as always, brought friction.
Sico didn't enter Magnolia's office immediately. He watched first.
He watched how her staff moved that efficient, controlled, calm under pressure. He watched how guards positioned themselves not as barriers, but as anchors, points of stability people subconsciously oriented around. He watched the crowd itself, the subtle shift from excitement to concern as whispers began to circulate.
"…they're saying production slowed…"
"…heard they're out already…"
"…doesn't make sense, they just announced it…"
That was how it started.
Not with shouting.
With doubt.
He pushed open the office door and stepped inside.
Magnolia looked up immediately, relief flickering across her face before professionalism settled back into place.
"You picked a good time," she said dryly.
"I had a feeling," Sico replied.
The room felt tighter than the day before. Ledgers were stacked higher. Cap trays sat unused on one side of the table. A terminal displayed inventory figures that were uncomfortably close to zero.
Magnolia gestured toward the screen. "We're nearly out of current stock."
Sico studied the numbers. "Curie warned us this would happen."
"She did," Magnolia said. "And we planned for it. But planning doesn't stop people from showing up."
She leaned back slightly, rubbing at her temple with two fingers. "I've been saying no for the last hour."
Sico raised an eyebrow. "And how's that going?"
Magnolia's lips twitched. "About as well as you'd expect."
As if summoned by the words, a raised voice echoed faintly through the open doorway.
"What do you mean you're out?" someone barked. "You were selling it yesterday!"
Magnolia sighed. "That would be him."
Sico turned toward the door. "Who?"
"Trader," Magnolia said. "Independent. Loud. Not used to being told no."
"Anyone dangerous?" Sico asked.
She shook her head. "Not usually. But desperation does funny things."
Another voice rose, sharper now.
"You expect us to believe you just ran out overnight? That's convenient."
Sico stood. "I'll handle it."
Magnolia nodded once, grateful but not relinquishing control. "I'll back you."
They stepped out together.
The corridor quieted almost immediately when people saw them emerge side by side. Magnolia's presence always commanded attention. Sico's presence changed the temperature of a room without him having to raise his voice.
At the center of the disturbance stood the trader.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, his coat worn but well-maintained, the look of a man who had done well enough in the wasteland to believe the rules bent for him. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed, hands gesturing sharply as he spoke.
"You're telling me to wait," he said, voice loud enough to carry. "After advertising availability. That sounds like a lie to me."
Magnolia stepped forward first.
"It sounds like logistics," she replied evenly. "Which you'd understand if you ever ran anything larger than a caravan."
A few people nearby stifled smiles. The trader did not.
"So what, we just trust you?" he snapped. "While you sell the rest out the back door to your friends?"
That did it.
The temperature shifted.
Not because Magnolia bristled, but because the accusation cut into something deeper than commerce. Trust had been built carefully. Suggesting it was false was like striking a load-bearing beam.
Sico stepped forward.
"Enough," he said.
He didn't shout.
He didn't threaten.
He simply spoke.
The trader turned toward him, irritation flashing before recognition caught up. His posture shifted slightly, shoulders squaring, pride rising to meet authority.
"And who are you supposed to be?" he demanded.
Sico met his gaze calmly.
"The person making sure no one gets hurt today," he replied.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
The trader scoffed. "So that's it? We're just supposed to believe you ran out? Overnight?"
Magnolia opened her mouth to answer, but Sico raised a hand gently.
"I'll explain," he said. "But first, you need to lower your voice."
The trader laughed harshly. "Or what?"
That was the moment.
Not dramatic.
Not explosive.
Just a step too far.
Two soldiers moved in from either side, smooth and controlled, hands firm on the trader's arms. He reacted instinctively, pulling back, anger flaring as surprise hit.
"Hey—!"
"Easy," one of the soldiers said. "You're not in trouble. Don't make it worse."
The trader struggled once, then stopped when he realized resistance would only tighten their grip.
The corridor buzzed with tension.
Sico stepped closer, his voice still level.
"Detain him," he said to the soldiers. "Temporarily. No force unless he gives you a reason."
The trader's eyes widened. "You can't just—"
"I can," Sico replied. "And I am."
The soldiers guided the trader a few steps away from the crowd, not dragging him, not rough, just removing him from the center of attention. The noise dropped noticeably, like a held breath finally released.
Sico turned back to the assembled representatives.
"Everyone listen to me," he said.
They did.
"I understand why you're frustrated," he continued. "You heard the broadcast. You saw the shipments. You came prepared. That matters."
A few heads nodded.
"But this isn't a trick," Sico said. "We are not lying to you. We are not favoring anyone. We produced as much Rad-X as was safely possible, and it moved faster than anyone predicted."
Magnolia stepped beside him.
"Production is ongoing," she added. "But we will not rush medicine. Not ever."
Sico looked down the line, meeting eyes one by one.
"If we rush," he said, "people get hurt. If we lie, trust dies. Neither of those things will happen here."
A woman near the front spoke up, cautious but firm. "Then when?"
Sico nodded, acknowledging the question.
"Soon," he said. "Days, not weeks. Curie's team is already working. You will be notified in the order you arrived. No exceptions."
Another voice followed. "And the price?"
"Unchanged," Magnolia said immediately. "One hundred caps per unit."
The crowd murmured again, but this time it was different. Less suspicion. More acceptance.
Sico gestured toward the trader being held a short distance away.
"This," he said calmly, "is what happens when frustration turns into accusation."
He paused.
"We're all rebuilding," he continued. "Some of us faster than others. But if we start assuming bad faith the moment something doesn't go our way, then we're right back where we started."
Silence held for a moment.
Then, slowly, people began to nod.
A man near the back spoke. "We can wait."
Another added, "As long as it's coming."
"It is," Sico said.
Magnolia took over smoothly then, directing people to reschedule, handing out written confirmations, making notes beside names and settlements. Her staff moved again, the rhythm returning, tension bleeding out of the room.
The detained trader watched from the side, his anger cooling into something closer to embarrassment.
Sico approached him once the crowd had begun to thin.
"Let him go," he said to the soldiers.
They released their grip immediately.
The trader straightened, rubbing his arms, eyes flicking between Sico and Magnolia.
"This wasn't handled well," he muttered.
Sico regarded him quietly.
"No," he said. "It was handled exactly as it needed to be."
The trader bristled, then deflated slightly.
"You could've just told us," he said.
"We did," Magnolia replied, joining them. "You didn't like the answer."
The trader looked away, jaw working.
After a moment, he exhaled sharply. "Fine."
Sico studied him. "You'll be placed at the end of the list."
The trader snapped his head back. "What?"
"Not as punishment," Sico said evenly. "As consequence. Others remained patient."
The trader clenched his fists, then slowly unclenched them.
"…Understood," he said finally.
Sico nodded. "Good."
The trader turned and left without another word.
When the corridor had mostly cleared and Magnolia's staff were back to work at a manageable pace, Magnolia leaned against her desk and let out a long breath.
"Well," she said, "that could've gone worse."
Sico allowed himself a faint smile. "It usually can."
She looked at him seriously. "This is only going to get harder."
"I know," he replied.
Magnolia crossed her arms. "People don't fight over bullets like this. They fight over medicine."
"Yes," Sico said quietly. "Because medicine means tomorrow."
Outside the Administrative Building, Sanctuary continued to move.
Caravans adjusted schedules.
Radios updated waiting lists.
And in the pharmaceutical lab, Curie team worked without pause, unaware of the argument they'd sparked simply by proving that something better was possible.
______________________________________________
• 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:-