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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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And in a few short hours, every Congressman and Congresswoman would take their seats. The Congress would begin, and what they decided there would shape everything that came after.
A few hours later, the light had shifted.
It was no longer the cool, steady brightness of morning as it had warmed into something fuller, heavier, casting long gold edges along the rooftops of Sanctuary and catching on the metal frames of the defenses around the Congress building.
The place felt different now.
Not tense.
Not fearful.
But charged with the quiet significance of what was about to happen.
In front of the Congress building, soldiers stood at their posts in clearly defined layers of security. Freemason infantry in clean, reinforced gear held the immediate perimeter, positioned at the steps and along the edges of the main approach. Behind them, further out, additional patrols moved in steady patterns, scanning rooftops, watching for movement beyond the outer barricades.
Humvees sat angled at key choke points, their engines idling low and ready. Trucks blocked secondary access routes, forming barriers that were both practical and visible. And beyond that, at the wider ring of defense, the Sentinel Tanks remained unmoving but unmistakable, their heavy silhouettes reminding anyone watching that this place was protected by more than just intent.
Above, the vertibirds continued their steady rotations, the rhythmic thump of their rotors drifting down over the gathering like a constant reminder of the sky watching over them.
But for all of that security, for all of that visible strength, the space in front of the Congress building was not cold or hostile.
It was alive.
Settlers had gathered along the designated observation areas, kept at a respectful distance by light barriers and guided by Freemason marshals. Families stood together, some of them holding children up so they could see over the heads of the crowd. Traders paused from their stalls to watch. Farmers who had come in from the fields leaned against posts or stood with arms folded, curious and quietly proud.
Because this wasn't just about defense.
It was about representation.
About seeing the leaders of every settlement come together in one place.
The first convoy arrived just after midday.
The low rumble of engines echoed along the main avenue as a pair of Humvees escorted a transport truck into the central square. The vehicles slowed as they approached the security line, where Preston's outer teams conducted the final identification checks with practiced efficiency.
Names were confirmed.
Escort units were verified.
Security clearances matched.
Once cleared, the convoy rolled forward, guided toward the drop-off point directly in front of the Congress building.
The truck door opened.
A Congresswoman stepped down, adjusting the strap of a worn satchel over her shoulder. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Sanctuary's center, the scale of the gathering, the layers of protection.
Then she straightened.
Ready.
A Freemason officer approached her, offering a respectful nod and guiding her toward the building entrance.
More convoys followed.
Some larger, carrying multiple delegates from nearby settlements that shared routes.
Some smaller, single vehicles that had traveled from more distant regions.
Each arrival followed the same pattern from clearance, entry, escort, welcome.
And with each one, the sense of importance grew.
Sico arrived not long after the first few delegations had been received.
He approached from the central avenue, walking alongside Preston, Sarah, and Magnolia.
Preston's posture was alert as always, his eyes moving across the perimeter, checking positions, reading the movement of his soldiers without needing to speak to them.
Sarah walked on Sico's other side, her tablet in hand even now, checking arrival lists, confirming names, adjusting schedules in real time as convoys arrived earlier or later than expected.
Magnolia walked just slightly behind them at first, her presence calm and steady, her gaze soft but observant as she took in the people gathered, the mood in the air, the quiet anticipation.
As Sico stepped into the open space before the Congress building, a few of the soldiers nearest the path gave him respectful nods.
Some of the settlers in the observation areas noticed him too.
There was a small ripple of recognition.
A few hands lifted in greeting.
Not loud.
Not disruptive.
But present.
Sico acknowledged them with a small nod of his own as he continued forward.
Another convoy was just arriving as they reached the front steps.
This time it was a pair of trucks and a Humvee escort.
The vehicles came to a controlled stop.
Doors opened.
Three Congress representatives stepped down together, speaking quietly among themselves before looking up and noticing Sico approaching.
They paused.
Then one of them, which a man with weathered features and a long coat marked with the insignia of a mid-sized river settlement stepped forward slightly.
"President Sico," he said, offering a respectful nod.
Sico returned it.
"Congressman," he replied warmly. "Welcome to Sanctuary."
The man's expression softened just a little.
"It's good to be here," he said. "The road was clear the whole way. Your patrols are doing their job."
Sico glanced briefly toward Preston, then back.
"They are," he said. "And your settlement? How are things holding there?"
The Congressman exhaled slowly.
"Stable," he said. "We had a few supply concerns last month, but the last shipment from your logistics teams helped. Morale's better now."
Sico nodded once.
"Good," he said. "If anything changes, you speak to us directly during the Congress. That's why we're here."
The Congressman gave a firm nod.
"I intend to."
The two other delegates with him stepped forward as well, offering greetings of their own. Sico acknowledged each of them, asking brief, direct questions about crop yields, about trade routes, about any signs of unrest or tension in their regions.
Each answer added another piece to the picture he was building in his mind.
As they were escorted inside, another convoy rolled in.
And another.
And another.
The flow didn't stop.
Sico, Preston, Sarah, and Magnolia remained near the entrance, receiving the arrivals personally whenever possible.
It wasn't just formality.
It mattered.
Each handshake.
Each question.
Each moment of recognition.
Because for many of these representatives, this was the first time they had spoken directly with Sico since their settlements had been brought under Freemason protection.
The next arrival brought a Congresswoman from a farming region not far from Nicola.
She stepped down from the vehicle with a firm, steady motion, her eyes immediately scanning the area before settling on Sico.
There was a flicker of something there.
Concern.
Maybe curiosity.
She approached.
"President," she said.
"Congresswoman," Sico replied.
She folded her arms lightly.
"I heard your broadcast," she said. "A national secret, you called it."
Sico met her gaze calmly.
"We'll discuss everything inside," he said. "For now, tell me, how is your settlement? Any difficulties we need to address?"
She studied him for a second, then answered.
"We're steady," she said. "But people are asking questions. There have been… rumors from Nicola."
Sico's expression didn't change, but there was a quiet weight in his voice when he spoke.
"And those questions will be answered," he said. "In the Congress. Together."
The Congresswoman gave a small nod.
"Alright," she said. "Then I'll hear it there."
Magnolia stepped slightly forward then, offering the woman a gentle smile.
"We've prepared lodging for you and your team," she said softly. "And food if you need it before the meeting."
The Congresswoman's expression eased just a little at that.
"Thank you," she said.
She was guided inside.
The arrivals continued.
Some of the Congressmen came in groups, clearly familiar with one another from trade agreements or shared defense lines. They spoke in low voices, occasionally gesturing toward the building, toward the defenses, toward the vertibirds circling overhead.
Some came alone.
Quiet.
Thoughtful.
Carrying the weight of their settlements on their shoulders.
Sico greeted them all.
He asked about water supplies.
About security along their borders.
About disputes with neighboring communities.
About food production, trade, and morale.
Some conversations were brief.
Others lasted a few minutes longer when something important needed to be noted.
Sarah recorded key points when needed.
Preston quietly relayed security adjustments through his radio when new delegations arrived with larger escorts than expected.
Magnolia offered warmth where tension crept in, a calm word here, a reassuring presence there.
The sun climbed higher still.
The crowd of settlers watching from the edges shifted as more people came to observe the arrivals. Children whispered to each other, pointing at the vehicles, at the delegates, at the tanks standing guard.
For them, it was something to remember.
For the older ones, it was something to measure.
To see whether this Republic they had placed their trust in was truly becoming what it promised.
As the last of the scheduled convoys approached, the pace slowed slightly.
The final arrivals came from the furthest settlements that need longer journeys, more dust on their vehicles, more wear in the posture of the delegates as they stepped down.
But they came.
Every seat would be filled.
Sico stood at the base of the Congress building steps as the final Congressman of the day approached him.
The man was older, his hair grey, his face lined with years of responsibility. He leaned slightly on a walking stick as he came forward, but his eyes were sharp.
"President Sico," he said.
Sico inclined his head respectfully.
"Congressman. I'm glad you made the journey."
The older man gave a faint smile.
"I've seen what happens when leaders don't show up when they're needed," he said. "I wasn't about to be one of them."
Sico's expression warmed slightly.
"Then we're in agreement," he said. "Because what we decide here will affect every settlement we represent."
The man nodded.
"I know," he said quietly. "That's why I came."
Sico asked him the same question he had asked all the others.
"How is your settlement holding?"
The older man took a slow breath.
"We're stable," he said. "But the people are watching. They want to know that the system we've joined will protect them. Not just with soldiers. With fairness."
Sico held his gaze.
"That's exactly what we're here to ensure," he said.
The older man studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod.
"Then let's get to it."
He was escorted inside.
And just like that, the arrivals were complete.
The space in front of the Congress building grew quieter.
The settlers watching began to drift back toward their daily routines, their conversations low but animated as they spoke about what they had seen.
The soldiers held their posts.
The vertibirds continued their slow circles overhead.
Sico stood for a moment at the base of the steps, looking out across Sanctuary.
Preston stepped slightly closer.
"All delegations accounted for," he said quietly. "Security is in place. Perimeter is clear."
Sarah checked her tablet one last time.
"Attendance confirmed," she added. "We're ready when you are."
Magnolia looked at Sico gently.
"They're waiting," she said.
Sico took a slow breath.
Then he nodded.
"Alright," he said.
He turned toward the doors of the Congress building.
Together, with Preston, Sarah, and Magnolia beside him, he walked up the steps.
Past the guards.
Through the reinforced entrance.
Into the hall where the future of the Freemasons Republic was about to be decided.
And as the doors closed behind them, the Congress began.
The doors closed with a deep, solid sound that seemed to settle into the walls of the Congress hall itself.
For a brief moment after that, there was only quiet.
Not an empty silence.
A full one.
The kind that carries weight, purpose, and the awareness that something important is about to begin.
Inside, the Congress hall was exactly as it had been prepared with strong, warm, and deliberate. The lighting cast a steady glow across the long central space, catching on the edges of polished wood and the metal reinforcements Sturges had carefully installed. Along the walls, the banners of the Freemasons Republic hung evenly spaced, their presence subtle but unmistakable.
Rows of seats curved in a wide arc around the central speaking area, each one marked and assigned ahead of time by Sarah's meticulous planning. Delegates were already beginning to move into their places, guided quietly by attendants who directed them with gentle efficiency.
Some of the Congressmen and Congresswomen moved with confident familiarity, greeting each other with nods and low words as they found their seats.
Others were quieter, taking in the room, the scale of the gathering, the fact that for the first time they were sitting among every other representative in the Republic.
The air carried a low hum of voices from conversations about travel, about conditions back home, about guesses and speculations regarding the "national secret" they had all been summoned to discuss.
At the front of the hall, a raised platform held the central table where Sico and his core leadership would sit. Behind it, a simple but strong lectern stood ready.
Sico entered with Preston, Sarah, and Magnolia, and as they stepped into the open space, the hum in the room shifted.
It didn't stop completely.
But it softened.
Gradually.
Respectfully.
Heads turned.
Eyes followed.
Because this was the moment the meeting would begin.
Sico walked at a steady pace toward the front of the hall, his expression calm, composed, but carrying the quiet gravity of everything that had led them to this day.
Preston peeled slightly to the side, taking a position near the edge of the platform where he could still see the room clearly as his soldier's instinct never fully turning off, even here.
Sarah moved toward her place at the central table, setting her tablet down, checking one last time through the agenda she had prepared.
Magnolia took a seat nearby, her posture relaxed but attentive, ready to read the room as she always did.
Sico stepped behind the lectern.
And then he waited.
Not long.
Just long enough for the last of the delegates to find their seats.
Just long enough for the final murmurs to fade.
Just long enough for the entire room to settle into a shared focus.
One by one, conversations ended.
Chairs stopped shifting.
Pens were set down or lifted into ready position.
Every Congressman and Congresswoman took their seat.
And then.
Sico spoke.
"I declare this session of the Freemasons Congress open."
His voice carried clearly through the hall, steady and grounded, reaching every corner of the room without strain.
A quiet stillness followed.
He rested his hands lightly against the edge of the lectern.
"Thank you all for coming," he continued. "I know that for many of you, the journey here was not easy. You left your settlements, your people, your responsibilities to be here."
His gaze moved slowly across the room, meeting eyes where he could.
"That alone shows your commitment to the Republic we are building together."
There were small nods among the delegates.
A sense of shared responsibility settling deeper into the space.
Sico straightened slightly.
"We are here today because something happened within our territory that we cannot ignore," he said. "And we cannot treat it as something that belongs only to one settlement."
He paused briefly.
"Before we begin the discussion, I will ask our Vice General to present the first item on the agenda."
He turned slightly toward Sarah.
"Sarah, please."
Sarah rose from her seat with her tablet in hand, moving to stand beside the lectern. Her posture was composed, her voice calm and professional when she began to speak.
"Thank you, President," she said.
She looked out across the hall, making brief eye contact with several delegates as she began.
"Two days ago, a rebellion occurred in the settlement of Nicola, which is under the protection and administration of the Freemasons Republic."
The words moved through the room like a quiet ripple.
Some delegates stiffened slightly.
Others leaned forward.
A few exchanged brief glances.
Sarah continued.
"The rebellion was organized and led by an individual named Kevin, a local figure within Nicola who had been previously involved in trade and logistics."
She tapped her tablet once, bringing up the relevant notes.
"The core motivation behind the uprising, based on our investigation and Kevin's own statements during interrogation, was driven by a desire for personal power and control over caps distribution within the settlement."
There was a murmur at that.
Low.
Contained.
But present.
Sarah didn't rush.
She let the reaction move through the room, then continued steadily.
"Kevin and his supporters believed that by taking control of Nicola's leadership structure, they could redirect resource flow for their own benefit."
She looked up again, her tone firm but measured.
"They attempted to seize key infrastructure within the settlement, disrupt existing governance, and establish themselves as the new authority."
A few of the Congressmen frowned.
Others wrote notes quickly.
Sarah went on.
"The rebellion was contained and neutralized by Freemason forces under the direct command of President Sico, with support from General Preston's army and Freemason commandos."
She allowed herself a brief pause.
"The settlement of Nicola has since been stabilized. A permanent garrison has been established, supply lines have been restored, and civilian order has been re-secured."
She took a breath.
"That is the situation as it stands now."
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Thoughtful.
Measured.
Sarah looked across the room once more before moving to the next part.
"The purpose of bringing this matter before the Congress today is not simply to report on what has already happened," she said. "It is to ensure that what happened in Nicola does not happen again in any other settlement under Freemason protection."
That line held the room.
You could feel it.
Because every single person sitting there represented a place that could, in theory, face the same risk.
Sarah continued.
"To that end, we need information."
She rested one hand lightly against the edge of the lectern.
"We need to know if there are any signs of similar dissatisfaction, unrest, or dissident behavior within your settlements."
She spoke the next words carefully.
"Any individuals or groups seeking to challenge local governance for reasons of personal gain, control of resources, or political power."
The room shifted again.
Not loudly.
But you could see it.
Delegates thinking.
Remembering conversations.
Considering their own communities.
"We are not asking this to assign blame," Sarah added gently. "We are asking this so that we can act early, before a situation grows into something that endangers lives and stability."
She let that settle.
"Kevin, the leader of the Nicola rebellion, did not act because of hunger or immediate need," she continued. "He acted because he believed he could gain power and caps by undermining the system we have built."
The word caps hung there for a moment.
Everyone understood what it meant.
Currency.
Trade.
Influence.
Control.
Sarah's voice remained steady.
"This tells us that our system is working well enough to produce value, value that individuals may attempt to exploit if they believe they can take control of it."
She glanced briefly toward Sico, then back to the delegates.
"That is why your insight is essential."
She finished the segment with clarity.
"We ask each of you to speak honestly about the conditions in your settlements from any tensions, any disputes, any individuals who may be attempting to gain influence in ways that could threaten stability."
She lowered her tablet slightly.
"So that we can address those issues together, as one Republic, before they become something worse."
When she finished, she stepped back slightly from the lectern.
The room was quiet again.
But now it was a different kind of quiet.
A thinking quiet.
A weighing quiet.
Delegates looked at one another.
Some leaned back in their chairs.
Some leaned forward.
Some wrote notes.
Some simply sat with their thoughts.
At the front, Sico watched them carefully.
Not pressing.
Not rushing.
He knew this part mattered.
People needed a moment to process.
To decide how much to share.
To recognize that this was a place where honesty wasn't just allowed, it was necessary.
Preston stood at the side, arms loosely folded, his expression serious but not closed off. He was watching the room as a soldier watches a field as he reading not just words, but body language, tone, posture.
Magnolia's gaze moved softly across the delegates, sensing the emotional undercurrents which where there was hesitation, where there was worry, where there might be relief at finally speaking openly.
Sarah remained near the lectern, ready to record, ready to respond, but allowing the space to breathe.
Sico finally stepped forward again, returning to the lectern.
His voice, when he spoke, was calm.
Measured.
"We're going to open the floor," he said. "One at a time."
He looked across the room.
"If there is anything you have seen in your settlements from any concern, any pattern, any individual you believe we should be aware of as this is the place to speak it."
He rested his hands lightly against the lectern once more.
"There is no punishment for honesty here," he added. "Only the chance to prevent something worse."
He paused.
Then he gave a small nod.
"Who will begin?"
For a few seconds after Sico's question, no one moved.
The quiet in the hall was no longer simply thoughtful now as it carried the faint edge of hesitation. Not fear, not quite. But the weight of choosing to speak. Because to stand and raise concerns about one's own settlement, one's own people, meant exposing weakness. It meant trust. It meant believing that the Republic would respond with fairness, not punishment.
Magnolia saw it in their faces first from the slight tightening in shoulders, the way some fingers drummed lightly against armrests, the glances between neighboring delegates.
Sico didn't push.
He simply waited, steady at the lectern, his presence grounding the room.
Then, slowly, a chair shifted.
A Congresswoman from a small agricultural settlement near the eastern ridge stood first. Her voice was quiet but clear as she spoke about minor disputes over water access between two farming families that nothing violent, but enough tension that she wanted mediation support before it escalated.
Sarah noted it.
Sico nodded.
"Good," he said. "That's exactly what this is for. We'll send a civil mediation team."
The Congresswoman sat back down, a small but visible sense of relief in her shoulders.
That broke the first barrier.
Another Congressman stood. Then another.
One by one, the room began to speak.
A trade route disagreement.
A rumor about a merchant hoarding medical supplies.
A group of young men in one settlement testing curfews at night that not violent, but pushing limits.
Each concern was heard. Recorded. Addressed calmly.
The rhythm of the Congress began to settle into something steady.
Until.
A chair on the mid-left arc of the hall scraped back with a sharper sound than the others.
Heads turned.
Congressman Jacob from Outpost Zimonja rose slowly to his feet.
He was a broad-shouldered man, his coat bearing the faded markings of long years spent on the front lines before he ever took a seat in Congress. His face was serious now, more than serious. Concerned.
The room quieted immediately.
Because everyone knew Outpost Zimonja.
A forward defensive settlement.
A place that held the line.
If there was trouble there, it mattered.
Jacob didn't rush his words.
He looked first to Sico, then briefly around the room.
"President," he said.
Sico inclined his head. "Congressman Jacob."
Jacob took a breath.
"There's something happening at Outpost Zimonja that doesn't sit right with me," he said.
You could feel the attention sharpen.
Jacob continued.
"Over the last few days, a few of the militia lieutenants under my command have been meeting in private. Not in the usual way. Not as part of scheduled briefings. Not in open planning."
He paused, jaw tightening slightly.
"They've been meeting discreetly."
There was a faint stir across the hall.
Jacob lifted a hand slightly.
"I wouldn't be standing here if that was all," he added.
He looked directly at Sico now.
"The Freemason soldiers garrisoned at Zimonja… one of their lieutenants has been seen joining those same meetings."
That landed.
You could feel it land.
Not loudly.
But heavily.
Because that meant something more than local disagreement.
It meant potential coordination.
Potential conspiracy.
Sarah's fingers moved quickly over her tablet, recording every word.
Preston's posture at the side of the platform changed almost imperceptibly as his stance tightening, his attention locking in fully now.
Jacob continued, his voice steady but firm.
"I don't have proof of intent yet," he said. "But I know my people. I know the difference between planning and hiding."
He held the room with his gaze.
"And this… feels like hiding."
Silence followed.
The kind that hums with decision.
Sico didn't hesitate.
He turned his head slightly toward Preston.
"Preston."
Preston stepped forward immediately, already halfway to readiness before the words even came.
"Yes, sir."
Sico's voice was calm.
Direct.
"Take two hundred soldiers," he said. "Three Humvees. Six trucks. Two Sentinel Tanks."
The clarity of the numbers cut cleanly through the room.
"You deploy to Outpost Zimonja immediately."
Preston didn't blink.
"Yes, sir."
Sico's eyes held his.
"You will secure the outpost," he continued. "You will detain anyone involved in those meetings. You will determine whether this is a misunderstanding or something more."
A brief pause.
Then the final line.
"And you will squash it, no matter which it is. We do not allow secret meetings inside our command structure."
The words were firm.
Unyielding.
Because this was exactly how Nicola had started.
Preston gave a sharp nod.
"Understood."
He turned slightly, already reaching for his radio as he stepped away from the platform, issuing quiet, rapid orders to mobilize the force that would move within minutes.
The hall watched him go.
And for a moment, the reality of what this Congress meant, what it could do that settled deeper into everyone present.
This wasn't just talk.
This was action.
Immediate.
Decisive.
Sico turned back to the room.
"This," he said calmly, "is why we're here."
He rested his hands lightly against the lectern again.
"To see early. To act early. To prevent something worse."
Jacob gave a slow nod as he took his seat again, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly knowing the matter was being handled.
But the conversation didn't end there.
Because now the room understood the stakes even more clearly.
Sico looked out across them.
"Now," he said, "we address the larger question."
His gaze moved from one delegate to another.
"How do we make sure Nicola doesn't happen again? Anywhere."
And that opened the floor to something deeper than reports.
Now it became strategy.
A Congresswoman from a trading hub stood first.
"We need clearer oversight on caps distribution," she said. "If Kevin rebelled for control of caps, then we need systems that make that kind of control impossible."
A Congressman from a coastal settlement nodded.
"Transparent ledgers," he added. "Shared between local leaders and Republic auditors."
Sarah spoke from the side.
"We can implement standardized reporting intervals. Weekly summaries, monthly audits."
Another voice joined in.
"Rotate garrison officers more frequently," a delegate suggested. "If soldiers stay too long in one place, loyalties can shift."
Preston's voice came faintly through his radio at the edge of the hall as he coordinated deployment, but one of his senior captains near the wall stepped forward to speak on his behalf.
"Rotations are possible," the captain said. "But we need to balance that with stability. We don't want units unfamiliar with terrain during threats."
Magnolia spoke gently then, her voice softer but carrying across the room.
"Trust matters too," she said. "If settlers feel heard, if they feel included in decisions about resources and leadership, they are less likely to follow someone like Kevin."
A murmur of agreement followed.
Another Congressman raised his hand.
"Local councils," he said. "Not just one leader per settlement. A small group. That way no single person can control everything."
Sarah nodded, typing quickly.
"Distributed authority structures," she said. "That reduces single-point corruption risk."
One of the older delegates, the grey-haired man who had arrived last spoke next, his voice calm but firm.
"And education," he added. "People need to understand how the Republic's system works. If they don't understand it, they're more easily convinced by someone promising them 'more' under a different structure."
That resonated.
Because Nicola hadn't just been about Kevin.
It had been about the people who followed him.
Sico listened to every voice.
Every idea.
He didn't interrupt.
He let the Congress build its own solution.
Point by point.
Layer by layer.
They discussed:
• Financial transparency systems
• Rotational military oversight
• Civilian councils in each settlement
• Early reporting channels for suspicious behavior
• Mediation teams to address disputes before they escalated
• Education programs about Republic governance
• Clear legal consequences for attempts to seize power illegally
At one point, Sarah projected a summarized list onto the front wall using the hall's display system Sturges had installed.
Delegates leaned forward, reading, adding suggestions, refining language.
Preston's captain relayed an update quietly to Sico: the convoy was mobilizing, departure in minutes.
Sico gave a small nod without breaking the flow of the Congress.
Hours seemed to compress into something purposeful and focused.
By the time the discussion began to slow, what they had wasn't just a conversation anymore.
It was a framework.
A system designed not just to respond to rebellion, but to prevent it.
Sico finally stepped forward again, returning fully to the lectern.
The room quieted once more.
"We've heard your input," he said.
His voice carried the same calm strength as before, but now there was something else in it too a shared ownership.
"This Republic does not stand because of one person," he continued. "It stands because of all of you."
His eyes moved across them again.
"And today, you have helped shape how we protect it."
He gestured slightly toward Sarah.
"Vice General, summarize the proposed measures."
Sarah rose and read through the final structured list they had built together that clear, organized, implementable.
When she finished, Sico looked out over the hall.
"All those in favor of adopting these measures as Republic policy," he said, "raise your hand."
For a moment, nothing.
Then one hand lifted.
Then another.
Then another.
Until, one by one, the entire hall was raising their hands.
Every delegate.
Every settlement.
United.
Sico watched it, the quiet pride in his expression not hidden now.
"Motion carried," he said.
A small, steady wave of approval moved through the room that not loud applause, not celebration.
But something deeper.
Commitment.
Because this was how a Republic survived.
Not by avoiding problems.
But by facing them with together, honestly, and early.
Sico gave one final nod.
"Then we move forward," he said.
Outside, beyond the walls of the Congress hall, the vertibirds still circled. The Sentinel Tanks still stood guard. And now, a convoy was already on its way to Outpost Zimonja that carrying with it the will of an entire Republic determined that Nicola would never happen again.
______________________________________________
• 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:-