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He knew this was just the beginning. A device wouldn't solve everything. There would still be fear, still be lies, still be mistakes. But he knew the device will help them on long term.
The next day, the results came in.
Sico had barely slept. He'd spent the night pacing Sanctuary's overlook, listening to the wind rustle through skeletal branches and the occasional thump of a brahmin shifting in the pen down below. The Commonwealth never really slept—just quieted, like an old dog dozing with one eye half open. And Sico, for all his planning, couldn't settle the tension in his chest.
He was in the place before dawn, leaning against the cold wall across from Sarah, who was seated at the terminal, tapping through secured files with the precision of someone who'd done this a hundred times. She didn't speak right away. Just scanned through the data with a calm that was somehow more reassuring than words.
Then she looked up and nodded once.
"Human. No trace of synth markers. Clean DNA profile. It's Jeffers."
Sico let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His shoulders slumped slightly, tension bleeding off like steam from a ruptured pipe.
"Thank god."
Sarah stood and stretched, her joints popping. "I'm locking the report in our records. Redundancy copy to Mel's lab and another to Preston's terminal."
Sico gave a half-smile. "We ever gonna hire a secretary, or is this just how we do things now?"
Sarah arched a brow at him. "You want someone else managing access to these reports?"
"…Fair point."
They shared a brief silence, the kind that only people who trust each other completely can hold without discomfort.
"I'll go talk to Jeffers," Sico said, pushing off the wall.
He found the old man sitting in one of the recovery rooms, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a mug of weak tea cradled in his hands. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and the wear on his face seemed deeper today—like the weight of the world had sunk into his bones overnight.
When Sico entered, Jeffers looked up immediately. Fear still lingered in his eyes, but there was something else too. Hope. Or maybe just the desperate need for clarity.
Sico sat across from him, resting his arms on his knees. "You're not a synth, Jeffers. The DNA test came back clean."
For a moment, the words didn't seem to register. Jeffers blinked, then slowly exhaled, like a balloon finally allowed to deflate.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Sico nodded. "I'm sorry we scared you. We're still working the kinks out of this thing. You flagged because of some overlapping biosignatures—Mel's refining the calibration again. The scan's learning, but it's not perfect."
Jeffers let out a shaky laugh. "Never thought I'd be relieved to hear I'm just an old man with a bad heart and a shaky hand."
They sat in silence for a while. Then Jeffers spoke again, more quietly.
"Do you think people will believe it? That I'm not… one of them?"
Sico's jaw tightened. That was the question, wasn't it? The scanner might say one thing, the DNA test another—but people believed what they felt, and fear was louder than facts.
"I'll make sure they know," he said firmly. "You're part of this town. You've helped rebuild these walls, fixed roofs after every storm. Anyone who wants to question that can talk to me."
Jeffers gave a small nod and looked down into his tea. "Appreciate it."
Sico stood, gave his shoulder a light squeeze, then left the room.
—
Later that morning, Sico, Piper, Preston, Sarah, and Mel gathered in the meeting room at Minutemen HQ to debrief.
Mel looked like he'd only had about an hour of sleep, his eyes ringed with dark circles, but his mind was sharp as ever.
"I ran diagnostics on the scanner all night," he began. "The anomaly in Jeffers' scan came from a series of overlapping biosignature spikes—could've been from residual chemical exposure during the war, could be some quirk of his biochemistry. I've added it to the blacklist of false-positive markers."
Sarah nodded. "That's the second false flag. First was Marcus' implant. Both teach the algorithm more about what not to detect. It's learning, fast."
Preston leaned forward. "Still. People were rattled yesterday. I had to personally talk down two settlers who were convinced Jeffers was going to 'snap' and reveal metal under his skin."
Sico rubbed his temples. "It's the fear. This machine makes the danger feel more real, not less. Even when it proves someone isn't a synth."
"That's the irony," Piper said, glancing up from her notes. "You give people a test, and they trust the result only when it confirms what they already believed. The moment it doesn't, they blame the test."
Mel huffed. "That's not science."
Piper smiled faintly. "That's people."
They sat in silence for a beat, each person stewing in their own thoughts.
"Okay," Sico finally said. "We keep scanning. Quietly. We treat the scanner like what it is—a tool, not a verdict. And no one gets pulled aside without full transparency and a DNA follow-up. The Detention Center stays reserved for high-alert cases only. No one goes in without cause."
"And what about the public?" Preston asked. "We can't keep this under wraps forever."
"We don't," Sico said. "We control the story. We explain what happened, how we responded, and that Jeffers was cleared. Total transparency."
Piper tapped her pencil on her notepad. "You want me to write the statement?"
Sico nodded. "Keep it factual, keep it clear. Focus on the process, not the panic."
Piper smirked. "You're learning."
—
The message went out that evening—Piper's write-up, read aloud over the settlement's intercom and posted at the central board. It told the truth: the scanner had flagged a man. Protocols were followed. A DNA test was done. The man was human. The machine was corrected. And they were all better for it.
Sico watched from a distance as Jeffers walked through the market square the next morning, nodding to familiar faces. A few people still looked unsure, but more than a few offered him a smile or a wave.
Later that morning, after Jeffers had passed through the square with a bit more confidence in his step and Piper's message had done its work soothing at least some of the public nerves, Sico made his way back toward Minutemen HQ. The wind had picked up a little, stirring the dust along the main road. Sanctuary's walls stood strong and steady, but tension still lingered beneath the surface. He could feel it in the way people talked in hushed tones, in the way some still looked over their shoulders, as if expecting a neighbor to peel back their skin and reveal circuitry beneath.
He stepped through the familiar doorway of the command building, boots echoing on the concrete floor, and found Sarah and Preston already seated at the central table. A few old maps were laid out beside a short list of names, hand-written in Sarah's neat but assertive script. Preston glanced up as Sico entered and gave a short nod. He looked tired—more so than usual—but focused.
"Took a walk?" Preston asked.
"Yeah. Needed to clear my head," Sico replied, settling into the chair across from them. "Market's quieter today."
Sarah leaned forward, gesturing to the list. "We've been narrowing it down. People we trust. Soldiers who've served beside us, helped build this place from scrap and fire. We need to start bringing others into this scanner protocol. Carefully."
Sico nodded, glancing down at the names. Some he recognized immediately—veterans from early campaigns, people who'd taken up arms during the Retake of Quincy, or helped rebuild Castle walls. A few were newer, but had already proven their mettle in battle or in day-to-day operations. Most importantly, they were loyal—not just to the Minutemen, but to the truth.
"I don't want zealots," he said quietly. "I don't want someone who gets this tech in their hands and starts pointing fingers on gut feeling alone. This scanner—it's sensitive. It needs steady hands, level heads."
Preston tapped a name with his finger. "That's why we've got Carter on the list. He doesn't scare easy, and he doesn't jump to conclusions. Plus, he's been itching to do more than just run perimeter checks."
Sarah added, "And Mike. He's quiet, but good under pressure. Think he'd be better at handling civilians, especially if things get tense during scans."
Sico nodded. "We'll need a team with balance. Thinkers, not just fighters."
Preston leaned back, arms crossed. "You remember how it was during the early days. Everyone terrified of synths, and no one had a way to be sure. I watched friends turn on each other over a twitch, a bad reaction, a rumor. We're trying to keep that from happening again."
"And we will," Sarah said with conviction. "But only if we do this the right way. No secret blacklists. No witch hunts. Everyone scanned gets the truth, and everyone who scans gets oversight."
Sico exhaled slowly. "All right. Let's go over the list."
They worked through it one name at a time, discussing strengths and weaknesses, past actions and personal loyalties. They debated—sometimes heatedly—over a few. Sarah was methodical, drawing lines between personalities like she was mapping the circuitry of a delicate machine. Preston was more instinctual, guided by gut and memory. Sico tried to bridge the gap between them, looking not just at the soldier, but at what kind of presence they brought to the field. Calmness mattered. So did discretion. And above all, empathy.
"We should test them first," Sarah said, not looking up from her notes. "Not just with the scanner. With how they handle false positives. Give them scenarios. Watch how they respond."
Preston nodded. "Drills, then. Controlled scans. Maybe a few of our people with known implants or medical oddities. See who keeps cool when the lights flash red."
Sico's mouth curled into a half-smile. "Marcus would love that. He's still making jokes about the time he almost got thrown in the Detention Center."
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "He better still be making jokes. I gave him hell after that."
The conversation continued for a couple of hours, until the list had narrowed down to a small group of seven names—people they felt they could trust to become the first tier of scanner operators. These wouldn't be replacements for the core team—they were an extension. A field arm. They'd work under Sarah's protocols, with Mel overseeing technical calibration. The scanner would be mobile, rotating between checkpoints and public events, always with two of the team present, and always with DNA test backups available.
When they were done, Sarah leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, her expression unreadable.
"This is going to change things."
Preston looked toward the window, where the late morning sun was breaking through the cloud cover. "Yeah. It already has."
Sico stood, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. "Let's bring them in. One at a time. Interviews, drills, full transparency. We tell them what they're stepping into. And if they flinch, even for a second, they're out."
Sarah nodded. "Agreed."
Then they brought them in.
One at a time.
The first to step through the HQ doors was Carter—broad-shouldered, steady-eyed, with that ever-present weariness of someone who'd seen more than he cared to remember, but never let it shake him. He nodded at Preston, gave Sarah a quick "Ma'am," and sat down across from Sico with the kind of posture that said he wasn't here to waste time.
Sarah opened with a firm but even tone. "This isn't a patrol assignment, Carter. It's not perimeter duty. What we're asking of you is different. It requires a cool head, strict adherence to protocol, and a deep understanding of how people work under fear. Not just others—yourself included."
Carter nodded. "Understood."
Sico leaned forward. "Let's say you're running a scan at the clinic. Crowded. People are edgy. The scanner flags someone—you've known them for years. They freeze. The crowd starts whispering. What do you do?"
Carter didn't hesitate. "Keep my voice calm. No sudden movements. Escort the person to a quiet spot. Radio for backup if the crowd starts to get restless. Make sure the DNA test is done in front of someone neutral. If they're clear, I explain the flag, reassure them, and make sure they leave safe."
Sarah glanced at Preston. Preston gave a tiny nod.
"Good," Sico said. "Now flip it. Same situation, but the person flagged pulls a knife. Doesn't want to be scanned again. They say the machine's lying. What happens next?"
Carter's jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his voice level. "De-escalate if I can. Talk them down. But if they're threatening people, I do what I have to. Non-lethal if possible. We're not executioners."
They moved through more scenarios—complex, uncomfortable, and murky. Carter answered each one with care, not just thinking like a soldier, but like a man who understood the fragility of trust in a place like Sanctuary.
After he left, Mike came in. Quieter, thinner, wiry nerves packed into a frame that looked like it could disappear into the shadows if needed. He didn't smile much, but when he spoke, it was with quiet authority.
"What would you do," Preston asked, "if a settler starts accusing someone mid-scan? No flag. No reason. Just fear."
Mike's voice didn't rise. "I'd shut it down. Remind them this isn't a mob. That the scanner is a tool, not a verdict. Get them separated. Keep them safe. And I'd make sure both parties get scanned—publicly. Let the machine talk. Not their panic."
"Would you ever use your own judgment to override the scanner?" Sarah asked.
Mike shook his head. "Scanner doesn't lie. But it doesn't know the whole picture either. I'd never act on the scanner alone. But I'd also never ignore my gut. If something feels off, I log it, report it, and request a re-test under a controlled setting."
One by one, they all came.
Jenna, the medic who'd seen more blood than most raiders. Her strength was in compassion—always defusing tension before it could spark. Her answer to every hypothetical was grounded in empathy.
"You can't scan fear out of people," she said. "But you can make them feel seen. Heard. That's what keeps things from unraveling."
Marcus rolled in next, cracking a joke before he even sat down. "You sure this isn't just a new way to haze me again?"
Preston gave him a look. "Only if you screw up."
But beneath the humor, Marcus was razor-sharp. He talked through protocol like he'd been memorizing it in his sleep. When asked how he'd deal with being falsely flagged again, he shrugged.
"I'd smile, hold my arms out, and say 'again?' Then I'd take the DNA test. Because if I don't, the machine becomes meaningless."
Each person brought something different. Jake was calm, methodical, and thoughtful. He admitted when he didn't know something. That honesty, Sarah said later, was worth more than bravado. Jameson, one of the newer recruits, had a technical mind and a methodical approach. He wasn't the most charismatic, but his understanding of the scanner's limitations impressed even Mel during the later calibration briefings.
When the interviews were over, and the drills were scheduled, the three leaders sat in silence for a long while.
Sico broke it first. "They're not perfect."
"No one is," Preston said. "But they're good. Good enough to start."
Sarah gave a slow nod. "It's going to be hard for them. Harder than they know. But I trust them."
The wind outside had settled. The afternoon light angled low through the windows. But there was still a long road ahead—more training, more oversight, and eventually, deployment.
________________________________________________
• 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:-