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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.
The following day arrived without the frantic edge of the one before it, but that did not mean it carried less weight.
If anything, it felt heavier.
The sky over Sanctuary was a pale, washed blue when the first vertibird came into view, its silhouette cutting across the morning light like a blade. The rhythmic thunder of its rotors rolled over the settlement in waves, rattling windows, sending loose papers skittering across tables, pulling eyes skyward wherever people happened to be standing.
Then a second vertibird followed.
And a third.
They descended toward the training yard with disciplined precision, engines throttling back in practiced unison. Dust and loose gravel spiraled outward as they touched down, the sound drowning out conversation, prayer, argument as everything but itself.
Sanctuary paused.
People stopped walking.
Guards shifted their stances.
Hands moved a little closer to weapons, not out of panic, but habit.
The Brotherhood of Steel had arrived.
Sico stood on the balcony of Freemasons HQ, hands resting lightly on the railing, watching the vertibirds settle. He had known this moment was coming. The radio traffic alone had made that inevitable. Power never ignored other power for long, especially when something valuable changed hands.
Magnolia stood beside him, coat buttoned, expression composed but alert.
"They didn't waste time," she said quietly.
"No," Sico replied. "They never do."
Below, Brotherhood knights disembarked first, boots hitting the ground in near-perfect rhythm. Power armor hissed softly as servos unlocked, plating shifting into rest positions. Scribes followed, lighter gear, datapads already active, eyes scanning, recording, cataloging.
At their center walked Paladin Danse.
Even out of armor, his presence was unmistakable with that broad-shouldered, disciplined, every movement economical. Beside him walked Scribe Neriah, her robes marked with the sigils of the order, her posture precise, expression thoughtful rather than severe.
They paused, waiting.
They always waited.
Sico turned away from the railing. "Let's not keep them."
The Freemasons HQ meeting room had been prepared carefully.
Not extravagantly.
Deliberately.
The table was clean, solid wood reinforced with steel brackets beneath. Chairs were evenly spaced, no one elevated, no one diminished. Water had been provided. No alcohol. No weapons on the table that though everyone in the room knew exactly how many were within reach.
Paladin Danse entered first, nodding once in greeting.
"Sico," he said. "Magnolia."
"Paladin Danse," Sico replied evenly. "Scribe Neriah."
Neriah inclined her head politely. "Thank you for receiving us on short notice."
"You contacted us through official channels," Magnolia said. "That tends to get a response."
Danse's mouth twitched faintly, almost a smile. "Efficiency is appreciated."
They took their seats.
The door closed.
For a moment, no one spoke.
It was not awkward.
It was measured.
Danse broke the silence.
"I'll be direct," he said. "The Brotherhood has become aware of your… recent development."
Sico leaned back slightly. "You mean Rad-X."
"Yes," Danse replied. "A renewable, stable formulation produced here in Sanctuary."
Magnolia's gaze sharpened just a fraction. "Word travels fast."
"It does when it matters," Danse said. "Radiation resistance is not a minor concern for us."
Sico folded his hands on the table. "I imagine it isn't."
Scribe Neriah activated her datapad, its soft glow reflecting faintly off her glasses.
"Our data confirms the claims made in the broadcast," she said. "The formulation is consistent, scalable, and according to preliminary samples acquired through civilian channels that exceptionally effective."
Magnolia raised an eyebrow. "You already bought some."
Danse didn't deny it. "Through legitimate trade."
"Then you know the price," Magnolia said.
Danse nodded. "One hundred caps per unit."
Sico watched him carefully. "And that brings you here?"
"Partially," Danse said. "The Brotherhood is interested in securing a reliable supply."
Magnolia exchanged a brief glance with Sico, then looked back at Danse. "That can be arranged through my office."
Danse held up a hand. "There is more."
Sico's expression didn't change. "I assumed there would be."
Neriah spoke this time, her tone measured, academic. "The Brotherhood also wishes to discuss the possibility of acquiring the formula itself."
The words settled into the room like a stone dropped into still water.
Magnolia's posture stiffened.
Sico did not react immediately.
He waited.
Danse met his gaze steadily. "This is not a threat. It is a proposal."
Sico nodded once. "Understood."
Neriah continued, "The Brotherhood has the facilities to mass-produce medical compounds on a scale far exceeding most settlements. If the formula were shared, distribution could be expanded dramatically."
Magnolia's voice was calm, but firm. "And controlled by you."
Danse didn't flinch. "Managed."
Sico leaned forward slightly. "Say it plainly, Paladin."
Danse did. "The Brotherhood believes technology of this magnitude should not remain solely in civilian hands."
There it was.
The familiar line.
Sico exhaled slowly, then spoke.
"No."
The word was quiet.
Absolute.
Danse blinked once. Neriah's fingers paused over her datapad.
"No?" Danse repeated.
"No," Sico said again. "The formula is not for sale. It will not be transferred. It will not be shared."
Magnolia added, without heat but without softness, "Doctor Curie did not create this to become leverage."
Danse's jaw tightened slightly. "You're refusing cooperation."
"I'm refusing control," Sico corrected. "There's a difference."
Neriah leaned forward. "With respect, Sico, centralized control reduces risk. Unauthorized replication, misuse—"
"—is already mitigated," Sico interrupted. "By design."
Danse studied him. "You're confident."
"I am certain," Sico replied.
Silence stretched.
The rotors of the vertibirds could be heard faintly outside, ticking as they cooled.
Danse leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Then let me ask you this. What happens when demand outpaces your ability to produce?"
Magnolia answered before Sico could. "Then people wait."
Danse's eyes flicked to her. "And when they don't?"
"Then we deal with that," she said. "The same way we dealt with it yesterday."
Neriah's gaze sharpened. "Yesterday?"
Magnolia smiled thinly. "Ask around."
Danse considered this, then looked back to Sico. "You're building something powerful here."
"Yes," Sico agreed. "And power doesn't have to mean ownership."
Danse's voice lowered slightly. "The Brotherhood has lost people to radiation. Entire squads. Good soldiers."
Sico didn't dismiss that. "So has the Commonwealth."
Neriah spoke softly. "This medicine could save many lives within our ranks."
"And it will," Sico said. "If you buy it."
Danse's brow furrowed. "You're serious."
"I am," Sico replied. "You are welcome to purchase Rad-X through Magnolia's office like anyone else."
Magnolia inclined her head slightly. "Bulk orders can be negotiated. Delivery schedules. Priority within reason."
Danse stared at her. "You're asking the Brotherhood of Steel to stand in line."
"I'm asking you to respect the system," Magnolia said. "The same one everyone else does."
A long pause followed.
Danse's gaze drifted to the table, then back up.
"And if we decline?" he asked.
"Then you don't get Rad-X," Sico said simply.
Neriah glanced at Danse, then back to Sico. "You realize this sets a precedent."
"Yes," Sico said. "That's the point."
Danse exhaled slowly. "You're not afraid of us."
Sico met his eyes. "I respect you. That's different."
Another silence.
This one felt heavier.
Danse finally nodded once. "Very well."
Magnolia's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"We will place an order through your office," Danse continued. "At the established price."
Magnolia nodded. "One hundred caps per unit."
Neriah made a note on her datapad. "Quantity to be determined."
Danse stood. "But understand this, Sico."
Sico stood as well.
"The Brotherhood will be watching," Danse said. "Closely."
"I expect nothing less," Sico replied.
Danse extended a hand.
After a brief moment, Sico shook it.
Firm.
Equal.
Danse did not release Sico's hand immediately.
It wasn't a show of dominance. If anything, it was hesitation with an unspoken recalibration. When he finally let go, he did not step away from the table. Instead, he remained standing, eyes lingering on Sico with a look that had less to do with authority and more to do with curiosity sharpened by concern.
"There is one more matter," Danse said.
Magnolia had already begun gathering her notes, but she paused. Sico, who had been preparing to signal the end of the meeting, inclined his head slightly.
"Go on," Sico said.
Danse glanced briefly toward Scribe Neriah, then back to Sico. "We would like to meet Doctor Curie."
The words landed softly, but they carried weight.
Magnolia's fingers tightened around the edge of her folder. Her eyes flicked to Sico that not alarmed, but alert, measuring his response even before it came.
Sico did not answer immediately.
He remained standing, one hand resting lightly on the back of his chair, gaze steady but distant for a moment, as if he were not looking at Danse at all, but at the implications unfolding behind the request.
The room felt different now.
Not hostile.
But charged.
"You want to meet her," Sico said slowly.
"Yes," Danse replied. "The woman who recreated Rad-X. Who brought it from theory into production. That level of expertise is… rare."
Neriah spoke gently, but with unmistakable intent. "It would be a professional discussion. Scientific. Informational."
Magnolia straightened fully now. "Doctor Curie does not take unscheduled meetings."
Danse nodded. "We would schedule it."
Sico finally looked directly at him again.
"No," he said.
The answer was calm.
Unadorned.
Final.
Danse blinked once, clearly not expecting the refusal to come so quickly or so completely.
"No?" he repeated, echoing the word as he had earlier, but this time with less challenge and more disbelief.
"No," Sico said again. "You won't be meeting Curie."
Magnolia did not add anything. She didn't need to.
Neriah frowned slightly, not in offense, but in confusion. "Is she… unavailable?"
"Yes," Sico replied.
Danse crossed his arms. "Busy?"
Sico nodded once. "Very."
Neriah leaned forward, curiosity outweighing caution. "Busy with what?"
Sico's gaze remained steady. "Another project."
That did it.
Neriah's eyes sharpened instantly, professional instincts flaring. "Another project?" she echoed. "Is she conducting further pharmaceutical research?"
Magnolia's expression didn't change, but the room felt like it had narrowed by a few inches.
Danse's voice was careful now. "You're developing something else."
Sico did not deny it.
Nor did he confirm it.
Instead, he said, "That information is classified."
The word hung in the air.
Classified.
Not secret.
Not private.
Classified.
Neriah sat back slowly, absorbing that. "Classified by whom?"
Sico met her gaze. "By us."
Danse studied Sico closely, something like understanding beginning to form behind his eyes.
"So," Danse said slowly, "not only are you producing medicine independently… you're continuing advanced research."
"Yes," Sico replied.
Neriah exhaled softly, fingers tightening around her datapad. "You realize how that sounds to the Brotherhood."
"I do," Sico said. "Which is why the answer is still no."
Danse's jaw tightened that not in anger, but in restraint. "You're asking us to trust you."
Sico shook his head. "No. I'm asking you to respect boundaries."
Magnolia finally spoke again, her voice even, unyielding. "Doctor Curie is not a bargaining chip. She is not an asset to be inspected. She works because she is allowed to work without interference."
Danse looked at Magnolia, then back to Sico. "You're protecting her."
"Yes," Sico said. "And the work."
Neriah's gaze drifted briefly toward the door, as if she could see through it to the labs beyond, to the sterile corridors and humming systems, to the mind that had made the impossible routine.
"When will we be allowed to know?" she asked quietly.
Sico considered that question carefully.
"In the future," he said. "When it's ready. When it's safe. When it's meant to be known."
Danse let out a slow breath through his nose. "You're changing the balance."
"Yes," Sico agreed again. "Intentionally."
Silence followed.
Not the measured silence of negotiation, but the heavier kind with the silence that came when two powers realized they were no longer standing on familiar ground.
Danse finally straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Very well."
Neriah inclined her head slightly. "The Brotherhood will respect your refusal."
Magnolia's eyes narrowed just a fraction. "Respect is demonstrated, not declared."
Danse accepted that without argument. "We will not pursue contact with Doctor Curie."
Sico nodded. "Good."
Danse turned toward the door, then paused.
"For what it's worth," he said without looking back, "you're walking a narrow path."
Sico's reply was quiet, but unwavering. "So is everyone who rebuilds instead of conquers."
Danse glanced over his shoulder once more, a complicated expression crossing his face as something between warning and reluctant admiration.
Then he left.
The sound of the vertibirds lifting off returned minutes later, the low thunder rolling across Sanctuary once more. Dust swirled again in the training yard, then settled.
This time, Sanctuary did not pause.
People looked up.
Watched.
Then went back to work.
Magnolia stood beside Sico at the balcony again, arms folded, eyes tracking the retreating shapes until they vanished into the horizon.
"Well," she said quietly. "That's going to be talked about."
"Yes," Sico replied. "By people who matter."
She glanced at him. "You okay with that?"
He nodded. "I wouldn't have done it otherwise."
Magnolia hesitated, then asked, "Is Curie really working on something else?"
"Yes," Sico said.
She studied his face. "Something big."
"Yes."
She didn't press further.
Instead, she smiled faintly. "Then I'd better prepare for another line outside my office."
Sico allowed himself a small smile in return. "I'll make sure you have guards."
"I'll make sure they have patience," Magnolia replied.
They parted as Magnolia toward the Administrative Building, Sico back into HQ.
The vertibirds were little more than specks by the time Magnolia turned away from the balcony.
Sanctuary exhaled.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just enough to keep moving.
Sico watched the settlement below for a few moments longer before heading back inside Freemasons HQ. He did not linger on the meeting that had just ended. He had learned, over years of leadership, that dwelling too long on power negotiations was a kind of poison. You acknowledged the weight, adjusted your footing, and then you kept building.
Because if you stopped building, someone else decided what you became.
High above the Commonwealth, the Prydwen cut through the sky like a steel continent adrift.
Its engines hummed with deep, constant authority, a sound that carried through every deck, every corridor, every bolted-down plate of pre-war metal repurposed into something that called itself order. Brotherhood banners hung along the interior walls, their insignia stark against the muted lighting. Knights moved with practiced discipline, scribes hurried between stations, and above it all, the command deck remained a place of measured tension.
Elder Arthur Maxson stood at the forward viewport, hands clasped behind his back.
Below him, the Commonwealth stretched out in fractured geometry from ruins, settlements, irradiated rivers catching the light. Somewhere down there was Sanctuary. Somewhere down there was Sico. Somewhere down there was a choice the Brotherhood did not fully control.
Behind Maxson, the meeting room doors opened with a hydraulic hiss.
"Elder," Lancer Captain Kells announced, his voice formal.
Maxson did not turn immediately. "You're late."
"Vertibird debrief ran long," Kells replied. "Danse is with us."
Maxson turned then, sharp blue eyes cutting across the room as Paladin Danse entered alongside Paladin Brandis and Scribe Neriah. Brandis looked as he always did that solid, scarred, carrying the quiet intensity of a man who had survived isolation and never fully left it behind. Neriah clutched her datapad close, expression thoughtful, almost unsettled.
They took their seats around the central holotable.
Maxson remained standing.
"Report," he said.
Danse spoke first. "The Freemasons received us without hostility. Negotiations were… firm."
"That's one word for it," Brandis muttered under his breath.
Danse ignored the comment. "They refused to sell the Rad-X formula."
Maxson's expression did not change. "Expected."
"They did agree to sell Rad-X itself," Danse continued. "At a fixed price. One hundred caps per unit. No priority beyond production capacity."
Kells let out a low whistle. "They're making us stand in line."
"Yes," Danse said evenly. "They are."
Maxson walked slowly around the table, gaze moving from one officer to the next. "And Curie?"
Neriah shifted slightly in her chair. "We requested a meeting. Sico refused."
Maxson stopped.
"Refused," he repeated.
"Yes," Neriah said. "Unequivocally."
Kells frowned. "On what grounds?"
"She is busy," Danse said. "Working on another project."
That finally drew a reaction.
Maxson's brow furrowed. "Another project."
"Yes," Neriah said. "When pressed, Sico stated the work was classified."
Silence settled over the room.
Maxson turned back toward the viewport, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked out over the Commonwealth again.
"Classified," he said softly.
Brandis crossed his arms. "They're getting bold."
"They're getting capable," Maxson corrected. "There's a difference."
Kells leaned forward, fingers steepled. "We need to talk numbers. If we're buying Rad-X at civilian prices, we need to adjust the operational budget."
Maxson raised a hand slightly, not turning around. "We will. But first, this other research."
He turned back to face them.
"Tell me exactly what Sico said," Maxson ordered.
Danse recounted it carefully. Not embellishing. Not omitting. The refusal. The calm certainty. The way Sico had said no not as a challenge, but as a boundary.
When he finished, the room was quiet again.
Maxson moved to his chair at the head of the table and finally sat.
"This Curie," Maxson said slowly. "She recreated a pre-war pharmaceutical compound with infrastructure, scaled it, stabilized it, and distributed it within weeks."
"Yes," Neriah replied. "Her methodology is… impressive."
"Impressive?" Brandis snorted. "That's an understatement."
Maxson's gaze sharpened. "She is exactly the kind of mind the Brotherhood exists to protect."
Neriah hesitated. "Or control."
Maxson did not deny it. "Those things are not mutually exclusive."
Kells cleared his throat. "With respect, Elder, the Freemasons aren't going to hand her over."
"No," Maxson agreed. "They won't."
Danse spoke quietly. "And they've made it clear they will keep her hidden. Protected. Beyond reach."
Maxson's fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"They're learning," he said. "Quickly."
Brandis leaned back. "So what? We let them outpace us?"
Maxson shook his head. "No. We adapt."
Kells activated the holotable, projections flaring to life. "Back to Rad-X. Based on current Brotherhood deployment levels, we estimate a minimum need of—"
"—before that," Maxson interrupted. "I want to understand Sico."
Danse looked up. "Sir?"
"Sico," Maxson repeated. "This isn't how most civilian leaders behave."
Danse considered his words. "He doesn't posture. He doesn't bargain unless it serves stability. And he doesn't fear us."
Brandis grunted. "Or anyone."
Maxson nodded slowly. "He understands power differently."
Neriah spoke carefully. "He treats medicine as infrastructure. Not leverage."
Maxson's eyes flicked to her. "And that worries you."
"It should," Neriah replied honestly. "Because it works."
Silence followed.
Then Maxson smiled faintly.
"Good," he said.
Kells frowned. "Good?"
"A Commonwealth that stabilizes itself doesn't collapse into chaos," Maxson said. "And chaos is expensive."
Brandis frowned. "You're saying we let them run ahead?"
"I'm saying we don't crush what might be useful," Maxson replied. "Not yet."
He turned his attention back to the holotable. "Proceed with Rad-X projections."
Kells nodded and adjusted the display. "Based on current Brotherhood operations from scouting, cleansing, long-term patrols, we'll require approximately two thousand units per quarter."
Danse raised an eyebrow. "At one hundred caps per unit…"
"Two hundred thousand caps," Kells finished. "Minimum."
Brandis whistled softly. "That's a hit."
"Yes," Kells agreed. "But radiation casualties cost more."
Maxson leaned forward slightly. "Approve it."
Kells blinked. "Elder?"
"Approve the purchase," Maxson repeated. "Through Magnolia. No pressure tactics. No attempts to bypass their system."
Danse nodded. "Understood."
Neriah hesitated. "And Curie?"
Maxson's gaze hardened just slightly. "We observe."
Brandis scowled. "That's it?"
"For now," Maxson said. "You don't recruit someone like Curie by force. And you don't steal her without consequences."
Kells folded his arms. "The Freemasons won't allow it."
"No," Maxson agreed. "They won't."
He stood again, walking toward the viewport.
"But," Maxson continued, "talent gravitates toward purpose. And purpose toward influence."
The Commonwealth drifted beneath them, unaware of the calculations being made above it.
"Curie is valuable," Maxson said. "And Sico knows it."
Danse joined him at the viewport. "He'll protect her."
"Yes," Maxson replied. "He already is."
Brandis crossed his arms. "So we wait."
Maxson nodded. "We wait. We buy Rad-X. We watch their next move."
Neriah glanced down at her datapad, then back up. "If she's working on another medicine…"
Maxson's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then the balance shifts again."
Silence settled over the command deck.
Finally, Maxson spoke.
"No one attempts contact with Curie," he ordered. "No recruitment overtures. No extraction fantasies. If any Knight even jokes about it, they answer to me."
Danse nodded. "Understood."
Maxson straightened. "The Freemasons believe medicine should not be weaponized."
He turned back to them, gaze sharp and thoughtful.
"Let's see if the Commonwealth proves them right."
The command deck did not empty all at once.
It never did.
There was a ritual to how Brotherhood meetings ended with chairs pushed back in near-unison, datapads powered down, officers standing only after the Elder had clearly dismissed them. Discipline shaped even the smallest movements. But this time, something lingered in the air, unspoken, unfinished.
"Dismissed," Maxson said finally.
Paladin Brandis rose first, nodding once before turning toward the door. Scribe Neriah followed, her expression thoughtful, eyes distant as if already mapping possibilities she was not permitted to voice aloud. She paused at the threshold, glanced once more toward Maxson, then left without a word.
The doors slid shut behind them with a hydraulic sigh.
Only three figures remained in the vast command deck.
Elder Arthur Maxson stood at the viewport.
Lancer Captain Kells remained by the holotable, hands resting on its edge.
Paladin Danse stayed where he was, posture rigid, eyes forward.
The silence that followed was different from before.
Private.
Deliberate.
"Kells," Maxson said without turning.
"Danse."
"Yes, Elder," they answered in unison.
Maxson did not immediately face them. He watched the Commonwealth instead as its fractured landscape drifting slowly beneath the Prydwen's shadow. Settlements clustered like stubborn scars. Trade routes etched faint lines through ruins. Somewhere, fires burned for warmth rather than war.
Sanctuary lay among them, unremarkable from this height.
And yet.
"Sit," Maxson said.
They did.
Maxson turned then, his expression unreadable, the faint hint of earlier contemplation gone. This was not the Maxson who negotiated. This was the Maxson who planned.
"There will be no record of what we discuss next," he said.
Kells' jaw tightened slightly. Danse did not move.
"You will not log it," Maxson continued. "You will not speak of it outside this room. You will not acknowledge its existence even if asked directly."
"Yes, Elder," Kells replied.
Danse nodded. "Understood."
Maxson clasped his hands behind his back again, pacing slowly now, measured steps echoing softly against the metal floor.
"The Freemasons have made their position clear," he said. "They will not share the Rad-X formula. They will not expose Doctor Curie. They will not bend under pressure."
He stopped in front of them.
"That does not mean we stop seeking answers."
Kells lifted his head slightly. "Sir?"
Maxson met his gaze. "I want a team prepared."
Danse's brow furrowed. "Prepared for what?"
"For infiltration," Maxson said calmly.
The word landed heavily.
Kells straightened at once. "You want us to breach Sanctuary?"
"No," Maxson replied sharply. "I want you to enter it."
Danse frowned. "That's a distinction without much difference to them."
Maxson shook his head. "It is all the difference."
He moved back toward the viewport, speaking as he walked.
"This is not a raid. Not an extraction. Not sabotage. No weapons drawn. No uniforms. No power armor. No Brotherhood insignia."
Kells' fingers tightened. "Civilian infiltration."
"Yes," Maxson said. "Long-term."
Danse leaned forward slightly. "To what end?"
Maxson stopped again.
"To make contact with Doctor Curie."
The room went very still.
Danse spoke first, carefully. "You ordered no attempts to contact her."
"I ordered no overt attempts," Maxson replied.
Kells' voice was low. "You're asking for something dangerous."
"Yes," Maxson said simply.
Danse's jaw clenched. "And if Sico discovers it?"
"Then we withdraw," Maxson said. "Immediately."
Kells frowned. "Just like that?"
"Yes," Maxson replied. "No confrontation. No escalation."
Danse searched Maxson's face. "You believe Curie might join willingly."
"I believe talent seeks alignment," Maxson said. "And I believe Curie deserves to hear our offer directly."
Kells shifted in his seat. "The Freemasons will never allow recruitment."
"No," Maxson agreed. "They won't."
Danse's voice was firm. "Then this borders on subterfuge."
"It is subterfuge," Maxson corrected. "But it is not coercion."
He turned fully now, eyes sharp.
"No one is to threaten her. No one is to pressure her. No one is to lie about what the Brotherhood is or what it expects."
Kells exhaled slowly. "You want consent."
"Yes," Maxson said. "Real consent."
Danse hesitated. "And if she refuses?"
Maxson did not answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was quiet.
"Then we respect it."
That surprised both men.
Kells frowned. "Even knowing what she's capable of?"
"Yes," Maxson said again. "Because if she refuses, it will be because she believes what she's building is better."
Danse leaned back slightly, absorbing that.
"And you'll allow that?" Danse asked.
Maxson's gaze hardened that not with anger, but resolve.
"I will not turn the Brotherhood into raiders who steal minds because they cannot inspire loyalty," he said. "If we do that, we become exactly what our enemies say we are."
Silence followed.
Then Kells spoke carefully. "You said this would be long-term."
"Yes," Maxson replied. "Months. Maybe longer."
Danse frowned. "That's risky. Operatives could acclimate."
Maxson nodded. "Exactly."
Kells' eyes widened slightly. "You want people who won't defect."
"I want people who could," Maxson said. "And won't."
Danse understood then.
"You want loyalty tested," he said quietly.
"Yes," Maxson replied. "I want operatives who can live among the Freemasons Republic, experience their stability, their safety, their trust and still choose the Brotherhood."
Kells folded his arms. "That narrows the pool considerably."
"Good," Maxson said.
Danse stared at the holotable, jaw tight. "Some will question this."
"They won't know," Maxson replied.
Danse looked up sharply. "Sir—"
"This stays between us," Maxson said. "You will select candidates quietly. Backgrounds that allow civilian integration. Engineers. Medics. Traders. Couriers."
Kells nodded slowly. "Cover identities."
"Yes," Maxson said. "No contact with Brotherhood channels unless absolutely necessary. No extraction plans unless Curie requests it or the team is compromised."
Danse exhaled. "And if the team decides Sanctuary is… better?"
Maxson met his gaze squarely.
"Then they were never loyal enough to begin with."
The words were not cruel.
They were factual.
Kells leaned back. "You're asking us to risk losing people."
"Yes," Maxson said. "But the ones who stay will be unshakeable."
Danse was quiet for a long moment.
Finally, he spoke. "I'll select the operatives."
Maxson nodded. "I expected you would."
Kells added, "I'll handle logistics. False papers. Supply chains."
Maxson turned toward him. "Be thorough."
"I will," Kells said.
Danse hesitated, then asked the question that had been hovering since the meeting began.
"And Sico?"
Maxson's expression shifted subtly.
"Sico is not our enemy," he said. "But he is not naïve."
Danse nodded. "He'll notice eventually."
"Yes," Maxson agreed. "Which is why this must be invisible."
He moved back toward the viewport, gazing down once more at the Commonwealth.
"The Freemasons believe medicine should not be weaponized," Maxson said. "That is… admirable."
Danse joined him, standing slightly behind and to the side. "But incomplete."
Maxson's lips curved faintly. "Everything is incomplete until it's tested."
Kells rose as well, standing at attention now.
"When do we begin?" Kells asked.
Maxson did not hesitate.
"Immediately."
Far below, Sanctuary slept under a web of lights and quiet patrols.
Guards changed shifts without complaint. Children slept without nightmares of radiation storms. Traders counted profits without wondering which road would kill them tomorrow.
And in the hospital wing, Curie worked late.
The lab lights cast a soft glow across her workspace as she adjusted a calibration, eyes tired but focused. A half-empty mug of cooling tea sat forgotten beside her terminal. Data scrolled steadily across the screen with cellular responses, regeneration curves, anomalies flagged for later review.
She paused, rubbing her eyes gently.
"Fascinating," she murmured to herself, more habit than celebration.
She did not know she had become a point of convergence.
She did not know that somewhere above the clouds, plans were being drawn around her future.
She only knew that something was almost working.
And that if she stayed a little longer, thought a little harder, she might make it better.
Back at Freemasons HQ, Sico stood at his office window, reviewing reports from Magnolia, from Curie, from patrol commanders along the northern routes.
Everything was moving.
Everything was fragile.
He set one report aside and looked out over Sanctuary again.
He did not know the Brotherhood was preparing an infiltration. But he knew, instinctively, that this peace would be tested.
______________________________________________
• 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:-