If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Below them, Far Harbor shone against the night.
The next morning began with fog.
Not the murderous kind.
Just the ordinary, damp, inconvenient sort that rolled off the sea and wrapped itself around Far Harbor like an old coat.
Streetlamps still glowed pale yellow through the mist, their light softened into hazy halos. The docks creaked. Gulls argued over something none of them had actually earned. Somewhere, someone dropped a hammer and immediately blamed the weather.
A promising start.
Sico stood on the balcony outside the command office, mug warming his hands, watching the harbor wake.
Below, Far Harbor moved with purpose.
Construction crews were already hauling timber toward the eastern storage yards. Fishermen loaded nets onto freshly repaired boats. Guards rotated off the night watch, their faces carrying the exhausted satisfaction of another peaceful evening.
Peace.
That still felt remarkable.
Avery stepped beside him, carrying a clipboard thick enough to stop small-caliber ammunition.
"I've got today's supply reports, labor assignments, and three separate complaints about Allen."
"Only three?"
"It's early."
She handed him the clipboard.
"One complaint is from Allen."
"About?"
"He claims Briggs is suppressing artistic innovation."
"What did Briggs do?"
"Confiscated commemorative settlement patches."
"Reasonable."
Avery nodded solemnly.
"Extremely."
Below, Allen was indeed arguing with Briggs near the warehouse.
It resembled a squirrel attempting to negotiate with a glacier.
Results remained limited.
Sico looked east, toward the newly mapped valley beyond the trees.
Their first expansion site.
The first new settlement.
The first real step beyond mere survival.
Which meant they needed one thing above all else.
People.
Builders.
Farmers.
Families.
A town could be planned on paper.
A civilization needed hands.
He turned back toward the office.
"It's time."
Avery already knew what he meant.
"Sanctuary?"
"Sanctuary."
She grinned.
"Sarah's going to love this."
"Sarah loves logistics."
"Sarah loves winning. Logistics are just her preferred weapon."
Entirely accurate.
Inside, the command office was warm, busy, and smelled faintly of coffee, ink, and Allen's regrettable attempt at cinnamon pastries.
Teddy had described them as medically concerning.
Hayes had used one to test structural integrity.
It had passed.
Barely.
Sico crossed to the communications desk.
The long-range radio sat polished and humming, its vacuum tubes glowing softly behind reinforced casing. Hayes had spent two days upgrading the transmitter after discovering the original design offended him on a spiritual level.
Now it could reach Sanctuary clearly, even across the Commonwealth.
Most days.
Weather, atmospheric interference, and the occasional inexplicable pre-war satellite tantrum notwithstanding.
Sico adjusted the dial.
Static crackled.
He keyed the microphone.
"Sanctuary Command, this is Far Harbor Actual. Come in."
A burst of static answered.
Then a familiar voice.
Calm.
Confident.
Carrying that unmistakable undertone of someone already managing six problems at once.
"Far Harbor, this is Sanctuary Command. Reading you five by five. Good morning, Sico."
Sarah.
Even over radio, she somehow sounded like she was standing perfectly straight.
"Morning, Sarah."
Avery leaned casually against the desk.
Casually for Avery still meant ready to command an army.
"How are things on your end?" Sico asked.
Sarah exhaled softly.
"Busy. Which usually means successful."
That tracked.
"In the last forty-eight hours, we've completed another hydroponics expansion, finalized caravan schedules for the southern route, and MacCready somehow convinced three recruits that brahmin racing should be an official training exercise."
Avery snorted.
"It absolutely should."
"I knew you'd say that."
Sico smiled.
"Any actual fires?"
"Only one. Contained quickly. Sturges is still muttering about wiring."
"If Sturges stops muttering, check his pulse."
"Noted."
The line crackled briefly.
Then Sarah's tone shifted.
More focused.
"You didn't call for small talk."
"No."
He looked out the window at the bustling streets below.
"Far Harbor's ready for its next phase."
That got her full attention.
"Go on."
"The island's mapped. Expansion sites identified. Construction's ahead of schedule."
He glanced at Avery, who gave an approving nod.
"We're preparing to establish our first satellite settlement east of town."
There was a brief silence.
Not surprised.
Calculating.
Then Sarah said exactly what Sico expected.
"How many people do you need?"
No wasted words.
No hesitation.
Straight to the heart of the matter.
Sico appreciated that.
"One hundred settlers."
Even Avery raised an eyebrow.
Sarah, however, did not miss a beat.
"For Far Harbor proper, or the new settlement?"
"Both."
He rested a hand on the map spread across the desk.
"The harbor continues to grow faster than our current population can support. The new valley will require farmers, builders, laborers, security personnel, and families willing to start fresh."
He paused.
"And Far Harbor itself needs to keep pace."
Sarah was quiet for several seconds.
Not because she doubted him.
Because she was already solving the problem.
A pencil scratched faintly over paper on the other end.
"One hundred is substantial."
"It is."
"But manageable."
Avery grinned.
There it was.
The answer they'd expected.
Sarah continued.
"I can pull volunteers from Sanctuary, Abernathy, Starlight, the Castle district, and several of the northern farming communities."
She paused again.
"Some will be settlers seeking opportunity. Others will be specialists."
"Exactly what we need."
"I assumed."
A rustle of papers.
The sound of someone somewhere in Sanctuary asking Sarah a question and immediately deciding it could wait.
"How soon?"
"The sooner the better."
"Naturally."
Sico could practically hear her smile.
"Transportation will be the bottleneck."
Avery stepped forward.
"We can send the Liberty and two escort boats to meet them at the northern ferry point."
"That helps."
Sarah thought for another moment.
"I can have the them ready in three days."
Sico considered.
Efficient.
Very efficient.
"How many in the first wave?"
"Fifty."
"Second wave?"
"Fifty more, two days later."
Avery nodded.
Smart.
Avoid overloading infrastructure.
Maintain security.
Allow housing assignments to keep pace.
Sarah really was terrifyingly competent.
Sico leaned against the desk.
"Who are you sending?"
Sarah's voice warmed slightly.
"Families first. We want roots, not just labor."
That was exactly right.
"Then farmers, carpenters, masons, mechanics, and a few former Minutemen for security leadership."
She added, almost as an afterthought, "And one teacher."
Avery blinked.
"A teacher?"
"The town will need one eventually."
Sico smiled.
"You're thinking ahead."
"That's why you keep me around."
"Among other reasons."
"Flattery noted and ignored."
Professional to the last.
The radio hissed softly between them.
Then Sarah asked the question that mattered most.
"How ready is Far Harbor?"
Sico looked through the office window again.
At the hospital rising from its foundation.
At new homes lining freshly cut streets.
At patrols moving with practiced confidence.
At children chasing each other beneath electric streetlamps.
At workers unloading steel, timber, and hope.
"Ready."
He meant it.
More than ready.
Hungry.
Sarah seemed to hear that.
"Good."
A chair scraped faintly on her end.
"Then we'll make it happen."
Avery crossed her arms.
"Any special requests from the mainland?"
Sarah laughed quietly.
"Yes. Tell Allen to stop sending recruitment posters featuring himself."
Sico looked toward the square.
Allen was, at that very moment, explaining something elaborate to a deeply confused fisherman.
"I'll see what can be done."
"Do more than see."
"No promises."
"That's what worries me."
They shared a brief silence.
Comfortable.
Earned.
Then Sarah's voice softened.
"You've built something remarkable up there."
Sico glanced around the room.
At the maps.
The reports.
The future.
"We all did."
"Fair."
Another pause.
"People are talking, you know."
"Good things, I hope."
"Mostly. Though one caravan master claims Longfellow once wrestled a fog crawler."
Avery raised an eyebrow.
"Did he?"
"No idea."
"Probably."
That sounded like Longfellow.
Sarah continued.
"The point is, Far Harbor isn't just surviving anymore. It's become a destination."
That mattered.
A great deal.
Because people didn't flock to safety alone.
They flocked to possibility.
"Then let's give them more of it."
"Agreed."
Papers shuffled again.
"I'll start notifying settlement leaders immediately."
"Thank you, Sarah."
"No need."
A brief crackle.
Then, with the casual efficiency of someone scheduling dinner rather than relocating a hundred people across a post-apocalyptic wasteland, she said:
"You'll have your settlers."
The line clicked.
But Sarah wasn't finished.
"One more thing."
"Go ahead."
"If Allen sends me another proposal for a Far Harbor marching band, I'm authorizing preemptive force."
Avery laughed hard enough to nearly spill her coffee.
"I fully support this policy."
"Motion carried," Sico said.
"Excellent."
And then the transmission ended.
Static returned.
The office suddenly felt quieter.
Not empty.
Just full of momentum.
Avery set down her clipboard.
"Well."
"Well."
"One hundred new settlers."
He nodded.
"Six days."
"That's not much time."
"No."
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Which means we'd better get moving."
The news spread through Far Harbor faster than a spilled drink.
Within an hour, the command office had become a revolving door of excited, concerned, and occasionally bewildered citizens.
Teddy arrived first.
"A hundred?"
"Yes."
"Good. I'll need more beds."
"You always need more beds."
"Because people insist on injuring themselves."
An unreasonable public.
Hayes came next, already carrying a list.
"I require six additional workshops, two machine sheds, and authority to confiscate any pre-war appliances settlers bring with them."
"No confiscation."
"Inspection, then."
"Approved."
Allen burst through the door with the energy of a small explosive.
"A hundred new residents!"
"Correct."
"I'll prepare welcome baskets."
"No explosives."
"That was one time."
"Three times."
"Statistics can be misleading."
Briggs appeared behind him.
Allen immediately became quieter.
Remarkable phenomenon.
Longfellow wandered in last, bottle in hand.
He listened to the plan without interruption.
Then he nodded toward the eastern valley on the map.
"You're really doing it."
"We are."
He studied the marked location.
"Good land deserves people."
Simple.
True.
Coming from him, significant.
"You'll help choose the first settlers for the valley."
Longfellow snorted.
"So I can blame them personally when they complain about mosquitoes?"
"Exactly."
"Fair enough."
Preparation consumed the rest of the day.
Housing assignments were reviewed.
Supply inventories doubled.
Food reserves recalculated.
Construction priorities adjusted.
Teddy expanded hospital plans.
Hayes demanded additional generators.
Ward reorganized patrol rotations.
Alice began drafting training schedules for incoming militia volunteers.
Briggs quietly assembled a security assessment that somehow included three scenarios involving hostile geese.
No one questioned it.
The geese probably deserved it.
Sico spent the afternoon on the docks, overseeing preparations for the transport fleet.
The Liberty would lead.
The Harbor Queen and North Star would escort.
Additional cargo barges would carry supplies, livestock, and construction materials.
Crews inspected hulls.
Engineers checked boilers.
Sailcloth was patched.
Fuel was loaded.
Every detail mattered.
A hundred lives would soon depend on those ships.
As sunset approached, Sico stood beside the eastern gate with Avery, watching workers clear more land for temporary housing.
Hammer blows echoed through the cool evening air.
Lanterns flickered to life.
Children laughed somewhere nearby.
The town was already making room.
"Do you ever stop?" Avery asked.
He considered.
"Sleeping counts."
"Debatable."
She watched the workers.
"A hundred people."
"That's the plan."
"Far Harbor won't feel the same."
"No."
She smiled faintly.
"It'll feel bigger."
That was the point.
Not merely larger.
Stronger.
More capable.
More alive.
The harbor had been a refuge.
Now it was becoming a city.
Three days passed the way important days always seemed to.
Too quickly when there was work to do.
Too slowly when people were waiting.
Far Harbor had spent every hour preparing.
Temporary housing had become permanent housing faster than anyone thought possible. Fresh timber framed new streets beyond the original town line. Foundations had been dug, reinforced, and blessed by Hayes with enough profanity to ensure structural stability for at least a century.
The hospital's second wing already had a roof.
The machine shops hummed late into the night.
Even Allen had somehow contributed productively, though nobody could quite explain how.
On the morning the first settlers were due, the harbor woke before dawn.
Fog hung low over the water, thin enough to see through but thick enough to make everything look slightly unreal. Lanterns glowed along the docks. Guards checked weapons. Dockworkers rolled supply carts into position.
Avery had been awake for two hours.
Possibly three.
No one was brave enough to ask.
She stood at the end of the main pier with a clipboard in one hand and a steaming mug in the other, issuing instructions with the calm precision of someone who had already anticipated every possible mistake.
"Families unload first. Medical screening immediately after. Supply manifests go to Teddy, construction materials to Hayes, ammunition directly to Ward. If Allen tries to organize a welcoming parade, someone tackle him."
Allen, who had absolutely been considering a parade, looked deeply offended.
"I was thinking of a tasteful banner."
"You may hold the banner."
"I can work with that."
Sico stood beside her, hands tucked into his coat, watching the gray water.
The sea was calm.
A good omen.
Longfellow leaned against a piling nearby, bottle already present despite the early hour.
"Still got that look."
Sico glanced over.
"What look?"
"The one says you're about to double your headaches."
"Only double?"
"Optimist."
That was generous.
A horn echoed across the bay.
Every head on the dock turned.
Out of the mist emerged the Bridgekeeper.
Big.
Solid.
Her steel hull cut through the water with practiced confidence, engines rumbling deep beneath her deck. She wasn't graceful, but grace had never been the point.
Reliability was.
And today, reliability looked beautiful.
Behind her trailed two smaller cargo barges, heavy with crates and bundled supplies.
The first wave had arrived.
Fifty people.
Fifty new lives.
Fifty new stories stepping onto the island.
The Bridgekeeper eased toward the pier under careful guidance, ropes thrown, lines secured. Dockworkers moved quickly, practiced hands making fast work of mooring.
The gangplank lowered with a metallic thud.
For a brief moment, nobody moved.
Then the first settler stepped forward.
A woman in her thirties carrying a toddler on one hip, a duffel bag over one shoulder, and the expression of someone prepared for anything.
Behind her came a man guiding two brahmin.
Then a family of five.
Then an elderly couple.
Then carpenters, farmers, mechanics, laborers, and security volunteers.
Men and women carrying everything they owned.
Children clutching toys, blankets, or their parents' hands.
Faces tired from travel.
Eyes sharp with uncertainty.
Hope, cautious but unmistakable.
Avery stepped forward first.
Because of course she did.
"Welcome to Far Harbor."
Her voice carried across the dock.
Clear.
Confident.
Warm without ever becoming soft.
"We've been expecting you. Medical screening is to your left. Housing assignments straight ahead. Food and hot coffee are available immediately. If you have questions, ask. If Allen offers commemorative pins, politely decline."
Allen raised a hand.
"They're limited edition."
"No one asked."
Several settlers laughed.
Tension eased instantly.
That was Avery's gift.
She could make military efficiency feel like hospitality.
Sico watched her take command.
She didn't simply organize people.
She gave them confidence.
A frightened little boy hesitated at the bottom of the gangplank, staring at the unfamiliar town.
Avery crouched, spoke quietly, pointed toward a group of children already playing near the square.
Thirty seconds later, the boy was running toward them.
Crisis averted.
Probably.
Meanwhile, the real work began.
Crates came down in steady rotation.
Food first.
Then water purification components.
Medical supplies.
Ammunition sealed in reinforced containers.
Construction lumber.
Steel beams.
Concrete mix.
Machine parts.
Seeds.
Tools.
Enough material to change the island.
Hayes appeared the moment the first engineering crates touched the dock.
He circled them like a hawk inspecting prey.
"Excellent."
He checked labels.
"Generator coils, copper wiring, relay components…"
His eyes lit up.
"Vacuum tubes."
That expression worried everyone.
Teddy supervised the medical unloading with professional intensity.
"No, those go to the infirmary. Carefully. Carefully means not throwing them, Allen."
"I was gesturing enthusiastically."
"You were dropping antibiotics."
"A subtle distinction."
Ward directed ammunition transfer with his usual quiet competence.
Security volunteers from the mainland fell naturally into line under his supervision.
He had that effect on people.
They saw him once and immediately decided following orders was wise.
Probably because it was.
By midmorning, the harbor was alive with controlled chaos.
Children explored under watchful eyes.
Families checked housing assignments.
Workers hauled supplies inland.
The town felt larger already.
Busier.
Louder.
Better.
Sico stood with Avery near the registration tables as the last settlers disembarked.
"Fifty exactly," she said, checking her list.
"Any problems?"
"One brahmin bit Allen."
"Severe?"
"For Allen or the brahmin?"
"Fair point."
She allowed herself a small smile.
"Otherwise smooth."
He looked over the crowd.
A carpenter helping unload lumber without being asked.
A former Minuteman already speaking with Ward.
A young woman kneeling beside a patch of soil, testing it between her fingers.
A teacher introducing herself to three curious children within five minutes of arrival.
Exactly the kind of people they needed.
Exactly the kind of people Sarah would send.
Avery followed his gaze.
"She chose well."
"She always does."
"No argument there."
Then her expression shifted back to business.
"I can handle settlement processing from here."
"I know."
"You have other plans."
He did.
Far Harbor wasn't just receiving people today.
It was preparing for tomorrow.
He nodded toward the eastern construction zone.
"The housing expansion needs supervision. And I want the communications center started immediately."
Avery's eyes sharpened.
"The radio building?"
"And the tower."
"About time."
The island was growing.
Growing settlements needed stronger communication.
Reliable communication meant coordination, security, and connection.
Especially with Sanctuary.
Especially with whatever came next.
Avery handed him an updated manifest.
"I'll oversee intake, housing assignments, labor placement, and supply distribution."
"Any issues?"
"I'll either solve them or assign Allen to them."
A devastatingly effective threat.
"Good."
She glanced toward the crowd.
One woman was already trying to locate her assigned house while balancing two crates and a very determined cat.
Avery sighed the sigh of a commander accepting her fate.
"Go build your radio tower."
"With pleasure."
"Try not to construct a monument to yourself."
"No promises."
"That's the problem."
Sico left the docks behind and headed east.
The new district spread before him in organized lines of timber, scaffolding, and ambition.
Workers hammered roof frames into place.
Masons laid foundations.
Electricians threaded salvaged wiring through unfinished walls.
The smell of sawdust and fresh-cut lumber filled the air.
Good smell.
Honest smell.
The first row of houses was nearly complete.
Six family homes, each sturdy, insulated, and elevated against the island's weather.
Not luxurious.
But safe.
Warm.
Permanent.
A far cry from the shacks most settlers had left behind.
Briggs met him near the central worksite.
Hard hat on.
Rifle slung across his back.
Apparently safety and firepower were equally important.
"How's progress?"
"On schedule."
"Any delays?"
"Allen attempted to help."
"That explains the burn mark."
"Among other things."
They walked between half-finished homes.
Workers paused briefly to nod before returning to their tasks.
Respect here wasn't demanded.
It was earned.
Sico stopped at the highest point overlooking the eastern district.
A gentle rise of land, clear sightlines in every direction, stable bedrock beneath.
Perfect.
"This is where I want the radio building."
Briggs studied the terrain.
"Makes sense."
"Best elevation. Central access. Clear transmission arc."
"And easier to defend."
Always thinking ahead.
"Exactly."
He unfolded the site plans.
A compact reinforced building.
Concrete foundation.
Steel support frame.
Protected equipment room.
Operations center.
Living quarters for radio operators.
Adjacent power station.
Far Harbor would need more than a simple transmitter.
It needed a communications hub.
A lifeline.
"Get Hayes."
Briggs didn't even ask why.
He simply turned and barked for a runner.
Hayes arrived twelve minutes later, carrying tools, three notebooks, and the expression of a man who suspected someone was about to offer him an interesting problem.
"What's broken?"
"Nothing."
"How disappointing."
Sico handed him the plans.
Hayes scanned them.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Then widened.
Then gleamed.
"I like this."
"Can you build it?"
"Can I build it?" Hayes looked personally insulted. "I can improve it."
"I assumed."
He crouched immediately, already sketching modifications.
"We'll reinforce the foundation against coastal erosion. Triple-layered grounding rods for lightning protection. Secondary backup generator. Shielded transmission room."
He paused.
"Also, a kettle."
"A kettle?"
"Long-range communications are impossible without proper tea."
Sound engineering principles.
"Approved."
Hayes pointed toward the ridgeline above the construction site.
"Tower goes there."
Sico followed his finger.
Higher elevation.
Excellent visibility.
Maximum range.
Exactly right.
"How tall?"
Hayes considered.
"Tall enough to annoy the weather."
Promising.
"Specific measurement?"
"Eighty feet, minimum. Hundred if you want to really offend nature."
"Let's offend nature."
"Excellent."
Word spread quickly.
Within an hour, crews had shifted materials toward the designated site.
Concrete forms were assembled.
Steel beams unloaded.
Excavation teams began cutting the foundation.
The radio building would rise.
The tower would follow.
Far Harbor would speak farther than ever before.
Sico spent the afternoon moving from site to site.
Inspecting walls.
Adjusting layouts.
Approving material allocations.
Redirecting labor where needed.
One roofline required additional support.
Another foundation needed deeper anchoring.
A drainage trench had been dug exactly six inches too shallow.
Hayes called that "a catastrophic betrayal of geometry."
It was corrected.
At one point, Sico climbed the skeletal frame of the future communications center.
From the second-story platform, he could see almost the entire harbor.
The original town clustered around the docks.
New streets stretching eastward.
Fishing boats rocking in the bay.
The Bridgekeeper still unloading supplies below.
Fifty settlers becoming part of something larger.
And beyond it all, the island itself.
Wild.
Dangerous.
Waiting.
Longfellow found him there near sunset.
Because Longfellow had a supernatural ability to appear wherever the view was best.
He handed Sico a bottle.
Sico took a sip.
"Thoughts?"
Longfellow studied the construction below.
"When I first came here, figured Far Harbor'd be lucky to survive another winter."
He gestured toward the bustling district.
"Now look at it."
Workers raising homes under electric lights.
Children chasing each other between lumber stacks.
Guards patrolling streets that hadn't existed a week ago.
The future, being hammered together one nail at a time.
"Not bad," Sico said.
Longfellow snorted.
"Understatement."
They stood in companionable silence for a while.
Below, Avery could be seen orchestrating the new arrivals with frightening efficiency.
Allen was apparently attempting to distribute welcome pamphlets.
Briggs was preventing this.
Civilization in action.
"Sarah send good people," Longfellow said.
"She did."
"She'll send more."
"In two days."
Longfellow nodded.
"Then you'd best build faster."
Sico looked at the steel beams stacked nearby.
At the foundation being poured.
At the tower markers planted along the ridge.
"We will."
Night settled over Far Harbor in stages.
Lanterns lit the streets.
Generators hummed.
The docks glowed with activity long after sunset.
Even after the first settlers had eaten, settled into temporary housing, and begun learning the names of their new neighbors, construction continued.
Not frantic.
Determined.
The radio building's foundation was poured before midnight.
Tower sections were laid out in precise order.
Hayes personally inspected every weld, muttering to himself like an irritated genius which, in fairness, was exactly what he was.
Avery joined Sico near the tower site after completing intake operations.
She looked tired.
Not exhausted.
Avery apparently considered exhaustion a scheduling conflict.
"All fifty are housed," she reported.
"Any problems?"
"Two cases of minor dehydration. One argument over brahmin ownership. Allen attempted to name a baby."
Sico blinked.
"Was it his baby?"
"No."
"Concerning."
"The parents declined his suggestion."
"What was it?"
"Harborton."
Sico stared at her.
She stared back.
"Yeah."
"Wise decision."
She looked toward the half-built radio station.
"Good progress."
"Hayes is motivated."
"Vacuum tubes?"
"Vacuum tubes."
"That'll do it."
Together they watched workers bolt the first steel support into place.
Metal rang against metal.
A clean, satisfying sound.
"Second wave arrives in two days," Avery said.
"I know."
"Think we'll be ready?"
Sico looked around.
At the finished houses.
At the unfinished ones.
At the radio building rising from fresh concrete.
At the town stretching beyond its old boundaries.
At the settlers already becoming residents.
He smiled.
"We'd better be."
Avery bumped his shoulder lightly.
"Good answer."
Down below, laughter drifted from the temporary mess hall.
Children shouted.
Someone was playing a guitar badly but enthusiastically.
Allen was almost certainly involved.
Far Harbor had changed again.
Not overnight.
Not all at once.
But undeniably.
Fifty more people.
Fifty more reasons to succeed.
And tomorrow, the work would continue.
More houses.
More roads.
A radio building.
A tower that would carry their voice across the Commonwealth.
A signal.
A promise.
A declaration.
Far Harbor was no longer the edge of the world, it was becoming the center of a new one.
______________________________________________
• 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:-