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...
The repaired settlement disappeared completely behind the hills, as columns kept moving deeper into Brotherhood territory.
A week had passed since Sarah Lyons and Preston Garvey had taken their forces north from the repaired forward settlement.
Seven days of movement.
Seven days of reconnaissance, short engagements, disrupted patrols, intercepted supplies, and long stretches of road where the Republic columns had advanced without firing a shot.
The settlement they had left behind remained secure.
The Republic garrison continued to hold it, its rebuilt defenses now serving as a proper forward position rather than a temporary line in the sand.
But the war had moved on.
And so had the Republic.
At Sanctuary Hills, the war room had become the center of that movement.
President Sico sat at the head of the central table, surrounded by maps covering nearly every available surface.
The Commonwealth had been divided into layers of information.
Blue markings represented Republic-controlled territory.
Red represented Brotherhood positions.
Yellow lines showed known patrol routes.
Small numbered markers identified supply depots, observation posts, radio towers, bridges, road junctions, and suspected defensive concentrations.
Several routes had been drawn and redrawn during the week as new information arrived.
A radio operator sat against the far wall with headphones pressed over one ear.
Another monitored a separate secure frequency.
A communications officer moved between stations carrying handwritten updates.
Quartermasters came and went with logistics reports.
Officers quietly compared fuel consumption figures with projected distances.
Nobody in the room was shouting.
They didn't need to.
The atmosphere was tense, but it was the controlled tension of people who understood that something much larger was beginning to take shape.
Sico leaned over the map.
A marker representing Sarah's force had moved several times since the previous evening.
Another marker, belonging to Preston, was now traveling along a different route.
And far beyond both of them, behind Brotherhood lines, Robert's unit had disappeared from the map almost entirely.
That was deliberate.
A radio operator suddenly raised a hand.
"President."
Sico looked up.
"Robert's on the secure channel."
"Put him through."
The room became quieter.
Static filled the speaker.
Then Robert's voice came through.
"Sanctuary, this is Robert."
Sico pressed the transmitter.
"Go ahead."
"We've had a productive week."
Sico glanced toward the intelligence officer.
"Define productive."
A faint chuckle came through the radio.
"Brotherhood logistics are having a bad week."
Several officers exchanged looks.
Sico remained focused.
"Details."
"We've hit supply movements, isolated positions, communications equipment, and a few transport points. Nothing large enough to tie us down, but enough to make them nervous."
"How nervous?"
"They're changing patrol schedules."
Sico looked at the map.
"That's useful."
"They're also moving escorts around. Some convoys are now traveling with twice the protection they had a few days ago."
MacCready's voice could be heard faintly in the background.
"Three times in some areas."
Robert continued.
"MacCready says three."
Sico smiled slightly.
"Tell MacCready I trust his arithmetic."
The room relaxed for half a second.
Then Sico became serious again.
"Casualties?"
"Light."
"Vehicle condition?"
"One Humvee took damage to the suspension. Mechanics patched it well enough to keep moving. The rest are operational."
"Communications?"
"Good. We've been keeping transmissions short. We haven't stayed on any frequency long enough for them to pin us down."
"And ammunition?"
"Enough for continued operations. We're avoiding fights we don't need."
Sico nodded.
That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
Robert continued.
"They're looking for us."
"Good."
"That's the idea."
Sico leaned back slightly.
"Are they diverting troops?"
"Yes. We've seen Brotherhood patrols pulled from the main routes and sent searching for us. Some outposts have reinforced their perimeter guards."
Sico looked toward the intelligence officer.
The officer immediately added several marks to the map.
Robert's voice returned.
"They don't know where we'll hit next. That's keeping them awake."
Sico's eyes moved across the growing collection of Brotherhood positions.
"Keep it that way."
"Understood."
"Don't become predictable. Don't let a successful strike turn into a prolonged engagement."
"We won't."
"And Robert?"
"Yeah?"
"Keep your people alive."
There was a short pause.
"We will."
The transmission ended.
Static returned to the room.
Sico remained still for a moment.
Robert, MacCready, and the commandos had spent an entire week moving through territory where the enemy had every reason to hunt them.
Yet they had remained mobile.
Every strike had been calculated.
Every withdrawal deliberate.
They weren't trying to destroy the Brotherhood's rear in one dramatic blow.
They were making the rear unreliable.
Every delayed convoy forced commanders to reconsider their routes.
Every damaged communications station created uncertainty.
Every missing patrol forced another patrol into the field.
And every additional soldier sent searching for the commandos was one fewer soldier available for the front.
Sico looked at the map again.
The effect was beginning to show.
"Next report?" he asked.
The communications officer checked the schedule.
"Sanctuary Regiment."
Sico straightened.
"Put them through."
The radio crackled.
Sarah's voice followed.
"Sanctuary, this is Lyons."
Sico answered.
"Go ahead, Sarah."
"We've changed formation."
Sico looked down at the map.
"Explain."
"We separated from Preston yesterday afternoon."
The room immediately became attentive.
Sico's finger moved toward the marker representing Sarah's regiment.
"You split the columns?"
"Deliberately."
Preston's voice came through another channel almost simultaneously.
"Cambridge Regiment is moving east of her position."
Sico looked toward the communications officer.
"Patch both channels into the room."
A switch was turned.
Now both commanders could hear each other.
Sico studied the map.
"Give me the picture."
Sarah answered first.
"Sanctuary Regiment is using the northern route. We're moving through a mixture of farmland, wooded terrain, and abandoned properties. We've identified two Brotherhood patrol corridors and one fortified observation position."
Preston continued.
"Cambridge Regiment is taking the eastern route. We're following an old transport road that connects several Brotherhood-controlled areas. Recon found regular vehicle movement."
"Resistance?"
"Scattered," Preston said. "Mostly patrols."
Sarah added, "Nothing strong enough to stop us, but they're becoming more organized."
Sico moved two markers farther apart.
"So you're creating distance between the regiments."
"Yes," Sarah replied.
"Why?"
"To make them choose," she said.
Sico looked up.
Sarah continued.
"If we remain together, they know exactly where our weight is. If we separate, they have to decide which formation matters more."
Preston's voice followed.
"And if they reinforce against one of us, the other gets room to move."
Sico nodded slowly.
The intelligence officer understood at the same moment.
The two regiments weren't simply advancing.
They were stretching the Brotherhood's defensive network.
Sico traced the routes with his finger.
"You're maintaining communications?"
"Constantly," Sarah said.
"Every hour on secure channels. Recon teams report directly to our command elements."
Preston added, "We don't move blindly. Scouts are staying ahead of both formations."
Sico looked at the casualty report.
"Casualties?"
"Light," Sarah said. "Mostly injuries from minor contact and one vehicle accident on rough terrain."
Preston answered, "Two wounded from a patrol clash. Both stable."
"Vehicles?"
Sarah replied immediately.
"Most operational. One Humvee has a damaged front suspension. We're keeping it with the maintenance element."
Preston added, "Three trucks needed minor repairs. Nothing that stopped the advance."
"Fuel?"
"Manageable," Sarah said. "We're consuming more than during the defensive phase, obviously."
"Resupply?"
"We're receiving scheduled drops from the rear."
Preston's voice became slightly more serious.
"My regiment is fine for now, but if we continue another hundred kilometers without access to a secure depot, we'll need a larger fuel shipment."
Sico turned to the logistics officer.
"Mark that."
The officer wrote it down.
"Food?"
"Good," Sarah said.
"Water?"
"Good."
"Medical supplies?"
"Enough," Preston replied. "But we're carrying more because we're farther from the settlement."
Sico nodded.
"Communications?"
Sarah answered.
"Strong between our units. Some interference near the Brotherhood's old relay network."
Sico frowned.
"Intentional?"
"Possibly."
Preston cut in.
"We're investigating it."
Sico studied the map again.
The separation was becoming clearer.
Sarah's formation was moving along one axis.
Preston's was moving along another.
Neither was close enough to support the other immediately if caught in a major fight.
That was the risk.
But the benefit was greater.
They were forcing the Brotherhood to defend two directions simultaneously.
Sico looked at Sarah's marker.
"How far are you from the nearest Brotherhood strongpoint?"
"Approximately thirty kilometers."
"And Preston?"
"Twenty-seven."
Sico's eyes narrowed.
"Almost symmetrical."
"That wasn't accidental," Sarah said.
A quiet smile appeared on Sico's face.
"I assumed it wasn't."
Sarah continued.
"Our reconnaissance indicates they're beginning to move personnel toward the center between us."
Sico immediately understood.
"They're trying to stop the gap from becoming a weakness."
"Exactly."
Preston added, "Which means they're watching the space between us."
Sico looked at the intelligence officer.
"Then don't give them what they're expecting."
Sarah replied, "Already thought of that."
"What's your plan?"
"Keep moving."
Preston laughed quietly over the radio.
Sico shook his head.
"Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one."
Sarah's voice became more measured.
"We're not trying to close the distance immediately. We're trying to make them believe they have to cover both routes equally."
Sico looked toward the map.
"And once they do?"
"They spread themselves thinner."
Preston finished the thought.
"And then we decide where to put the pressure."
The war room fell silent again.
Sico looked across the table.
Robert was disrupting the Brotherhood from behind.
Sarah and Preston were approaching from two separate directions.
The Republic's advance was no longer a single line pushing north.
It had become a network of pressure.
Sico returned to the radio.
"How's the terrain affecting movement?"
Sarah answered first.
"Slow in the wooded sections. Roads are usable but unpredictable. Some bridges are damaged."
Preston added, "The eastern route is faster, but more exposed."
"Ambush risk?"
"Moderate," Preston said.
Sarah replied, "Higher near the old settlements. We've found signs of recent Brotherhood occupation."
Sico nodded.
"Recon before every choke point."
"Already standard," Sarah said.
"And don't allow the formations to become so separated that you can't support each other."
"Understood."
Sico looked at both markers.
"You've got room to maneuver. Use it."
Sarah's voice softened slightly.
"We will."
Preston added, "We'll keep the pressure on."
The transmission ended.
For several seconds, nobody in the war room spoke.
Sico remained standing over the map.
A week ago, Sarah and Preston had been leaving a settlement that had only just survived another Brotherhood assault.
Now they were deep inside territory the Brotherhood still claimed as its own.
The significance wasn't lost on him.
The Republic wasn't simply recovering anymore.
It was advancing.
And the Brotherhood was beginning to react to the Republic's decisions rather than dictate them.
That distinction mattered.
Sico reached for a marker and moved it behind the Brotherhood's rear positions.
Robert's commandos.
Then he moved Sarah's marker farther west.
Preston's farther east.
Three pressures.
One enemy.
He looked toward the communications officers.
"Keep the channels open."
"Yes, sir."
"Every report comes here. Patrol movement, supply movement, armor, aircraft, communications, anything unusual."
The intelligence officer nodded.
"And if the Brotherhood begins concentrating?"
Sico looked at the map.
"Tell me before they finish."
The officer understood.
Sico sat down again.
Outside the war room, Sanctuary continued its ordinary rhythm.
People moved through the headquarters.
Vehicles came and went.
Soldiers crossed the grounds carrying equipment.
Somewhere beyond the walls, mechanics worked on engines that would eventually carry more troops north.
But inside the war room, the Commonwealth had become a collection of moving pieces.
A radio crackled again.
The operator looked over.
"Sir."
Sico lifted his eyes.
"Another transmission."
"From Sarah?"
"No. Preston."
Sico pressed the receiver.
"Cambridge, go."
Preston's voice came through, calm but alert.
"We've found something."
Sico's attention sharpened.
"What?"
"Fresh vehicle tracks. Heavy ones."
"Direction?"
"Northwest."
Sico glanced at Sarah's position.
"Toward her?"
"Possibly."
Sarah's voice came through another channel.
"Sanctuary, we're seeing the same thing from our side."
Sico's expression hardened.
"Then you've got their attention."
Sarah replied.
"Looks that way."
Preston added, "We're still moving."
"Keep moving," Sico said. "Don't give them time to dictate the engagement."
"Understood."
The radio went quiet.
Sico stared at the map.
The Brotherhood was beginning to shift.
Robert's operations had forced troops into the rear.
Sarah and Preston had stretched the front.
Now enemy units were moving between the two Republic formations, trying to understand which threat was real and which was a feint.
Perhaps the Brotherhood still believed it could contain the advance.
Perhaps it was only beginning to understand what was happening.
Either way, the Republic had achieved something that had seemed distant only weeks earlier.
It was controlling the tempo.
Sico leaned forward, resting both hands on the table.
"Keep them moving," he said quietly.
The communications officers returned to their stations.
Across the Commonwealth, Sarah Lyons and the Sanctuary Regiment continued north along their chosen axis.
Preston Garvey and the Cambridge Regiment continued along theirs.
Between them, Brotherhood positions were being forced to watch two roads, two formations, two possible directions of attack.
Behind those positions, Robert, MacCready, and the commandos remained unseen.
Still moving.
Still striking.
Still making the Brotherhood look over its shoulder.
And in the Sanctuary war room, Sico watched the three separate movements converge on the same strategic purpose.
The Republic was closing around the Brotherhood.
The change in the war was being felt aboard the Prydwen long before anyone put it into words.
The great airship remained suspended above Boston, its engines producing their steady mechanical vibration through the decks. Normally, that sound carried a sense of security. The Brotherhood had built the Prydwen to project strength.
Tonight, it sounded different.
The command area was crowded.
Officers stood along the walls while scribes and communications personnel moved between terminals. Tactical maps covered the central planning table, showing the Commonwealth in progressively smaller sections of Brotherhood control.
Several red markers had been moved.
Some had disappeared entirely.
Elder Arthur Maxson stood at the head of the table with both hands planted against its edge.
His expression was furious.
Paladin Danse stood several places away, rigid and attentive.
Paladin Brandis had arrived from the front and still carried the exhaustion of a commander who had spent too many days operating in the field.
Lancer-Captain Kells stood near the communications station.
Proctor Ingram and Proctor Quinlan were positioned opposite one another, while Madison Li reviewed a technical report beside the machinery displays.
Nobody spoke until Maxson finally broke the silence.
"Explain it."
No one answered immediately.
Maxson looked down at the map.
"The Republic continues to advance."
His finger struck one of the markers.
"Another position lost."
Then another.
"And another."
He looked around the room.
"We have committed soldiers, power armor, aircraft, artillery, and armored vehicles to holding these areas. Yet the Freemasons Republic continues moving toward Boston Airport."
His voice hardened.
"Slowly."
He tapped the table.
"But steadily."
Brandis straightened.
Maxson looked directly at him.
"Paladin Brandis."
"Yes, Elder."
"You were ordered to recover the settlement."
Brandis paused.
"Yes."
"And you failed."
The words landed heavily.
Brandis did not look away.
"My forces were unable to retake it."
Maxson's jaw tightened.
"Why?"
"Because the Republic had prepared for another attack. Their defensive coordination was stronger than our initial assessment suggested. They had armored support positioned behind their infantry, mobile weapons covering the approaches, and sufficient reserves to reinforce threatened sectors."
Maxson stared at him.
"And?"
Brandis continued.
"When the assault stalled, the Republic counterattacked."
"Yet you withdrew."
"I did."
"You abandoned the position."
"I withdrew the surviving force before it was destroyed."
Maxson's eyes narrowed.
"You were supposed to hold the territory."
Brandis remained calm.
"I was supposed to accomplish the objective. Once it became clear that another assault would cost the remainder of my force without a reasonable prospect of success, I chose to preserve the troops."
Maxson stepped around the table.
"You're explaining failure to me."
"No, Elder."
Brandis's voice remained professional.
"I'm accepting responsibility for it."
The room went quiet again.
Brandis continued.
"I should have recognized the Republic's defensive preparation earlier. That is my responsibility. But once the counterattack began, sacrificing the remaining soldiers would not have recovered the settlement."
Maxson's expression remained hard.
"You will remember that position was ours."
"Yes, Elder."
"And now it isn't."
"No."
Brandis lowered his gaze briefly toward the map.
"It isn't."
Maxson held his stare for another moment before turning away.
"Then make certain the next position doesn't suffer the same fate."
Brandis nodded.
"Yes, Elder."
Maxson's attention shifted.
"Captain Kells."
Kells stepped forward.
"Elder."
"What else are we losing?"
Kells exchanged a glance with Quinlan before answering.
"Freedom of movement."
Maxson looked at him.
"Explain."
"Our supply network is being disrupted."
"By the Republic?"
"We don't know."
Maxson's expression darkened.
Kells continued.
"Unidentified enemy units have been striking shipments, isolated positions, transport points, and communications installations. They don't stay long enough for us to engage them decisively."
"Numbers?"
"Unknown."
"Composition?"
"Unknown."
"Location?"
"Unknown."
Maxson's patience visibly thinned.
"Then what exactly do we know?"
Kells remained composed.
"We know they're effective."
He pointed toward a logistics map.
"Three convoys altered their routes this week after receiving warnings about suspected attacks. Two shipments were delayed after escort units encountered damaged roads and abandoned vehicles. Several communications installations were attacked or sabotaged."
Quinlan added quietly.
"And patrol schedules have been changed repeatedly."
Kells nodded.
"Outposts are requesting additional protection. Convoy escorts have been increased. Some units have been pulled from defensive sectors to search for the attackers."
Maxson stared at the map.
The pattern was obvious now.
The enemy behind the lines was forcing the Brotherhood to look in every direction.
"How many personnel?"
Kells hesitated.
"Enough to matter."
"That wasn't my question."
"Several platoons have been reassigned across different sectors. More will be required if the attacks continue."
Maxson's fist struck the table.
"Then reinforce the routes."
Kells nodded.
"Yes, Elder."
"Convoys receive stronger escorts. Critical supply corridors get permanent protection. Isolated outposts increase their defensive posture."
"Yes."
"And communications installations?"
"Additional guards and redundant equipment."
"Do it."
Kells nodded again.
"Understood."
Then he added the uncomfortable truth.
"Those personnel have to come from somewhere."
Maxson looked at him.
Kells continued.
"If we reinforce the rear, we reduce manpower available to the front."
Nobody needed him to explain what that meant.
Maxson turned toward Quinlan.
"And our intelligence picture?"
Quinlan stepped forward with a folder under one arm.
"Deteriorating in some areas."
Maxson's eyes narrowed.
"Be specific."
"The Republic's movements are difficult to predict because they're no longer advancing as a single formation."
Quinlan spread another map across the table.
"Sarah Lyons is moving one formation along the western axis. Preston Garvey is operating farther east. They're maintaining communications but deliberately separating their forces."
Danse studied the map silently.
Quinlan continued.
"Reconnaissance indicates they're probing roads, patrol corridors, defensive positions and supply routes independently."
"And the rear attacks?"
"We believe they're connected."
Maxson looked at him.
"To the Republic?"
"Most likely."
Quinlan tapped several locations.
"The timing corresponds too closely. Every time the Republic applies pressure in one sector, our rear becomes less reliable. We are forced to respond in multiple places simultaneously."
Maxson's expression hardened.
"And the Institute."
Quinlan hesitated.
"Still active."
That single answer seemed heavier than the others.
The Brotherhood had two wars.
The Republic was advancing from one direction.
The Institute remained an enemy elsewhere.
Neither threat could simply be ignored.
Quinlan spoke carefully.
"We cannot concentrate overwhelming force against either opponent without exposing ourselves to the other."
Maxson stared at the map.
"We are being pinned."
"Yes."
The word remained in the air.
Not defeated.
Not yet.
But pinned.
Maxson slowly straightened.
"Then we change the equation."
His gaze moved toward Ingram.
"Proctor."
Ingram looked up.
"Elder."
"Prepare Liberty Prime."
The room became completely silent.
Even Brandis turned slightly.
Ingram's expression changed.
"For deployment?"
"For full operational readiness."
She understood immediately.
"How much time?"
"I want your estimate."
Ingram took a breath.
"If we're bringing Prime to full combat readiness, I need complete systems diagnostics. Power systems, weapons integration, targeting, mobility, communications, armor systems, control architecture. We also need to verify the supporting infrastructure."
"How long?"
"If nothing goes wrong?"
Maxson stared at her.
Ingram sighed.
"Then we'll move as quickly as humanly possible."
Maxson's tone remained cold.
"Make sure nothing goes wrong."
Ingram gave him a thin look.
"I'll tell the engineers."
Madison Li stepped closer.
"I can assist with the technical verification."
Maxson looked toward her.
"Will your team be ready?"
"Yes."
"Power requirements?"
"Manageable if the support systems remain dedicated to the project."
"Do it."
Madison nodded.
"We'll begin immediately."
For the briefest moment, her eyes moved across the room.
They stopped on Danse.
Only for a second.
A glance so quick that anyone watching could have mistaken it for coincidence.
Danse met her eyes.
Nothing passed between them openly.
No gesture.
No smile.
No acknowledgment.
Just recognition.
They both understood what Liberty Prime's preparation meant.
The machine represented the Brotherhood's most powerful military asset.
It also represented access.
Access to systems.
Access to command infrastructure.
Access to the heart of the Brotherhood's coming defensive effort.
Madison looked away first.
Danse returned his attention to Maxson.
Outwardly, he remained exactly what everyone expected him to be.
A Paladin.
A loyal officer.
A soldier prepared to follow orders.
But beneath that discipline was another calculation.
The war was moving faster than either he or Madison had expected.
And their secret decision had not changed.
Maxson turned toward Danse.
"Paladin."
Danse immediately responded.
"Yes, Elder."
"You'll coordinate ground forces around the airport."
"Yes."
"I want every defensive position reviewed."
"Understood."
"Power armor reserves?"
"Ready for reinforcement."
"Aircraft?"
"Available, though their operational tempo is increasing."
Maxson nodded.
"Keep them available for rapid response."
Danse saluted.
"Yes, Elder."
Madison returned to her technical documents.
Her hands remained steady.
Inside, however, she understood exactly where she was being placed.
If Liberty Prime became the centerpiece of the Brotherhood's final defensive effort, she would be close to the machinery that mattered most.
Close enough to influence it.
Close enough to make choices.
Close enough for the plan she and Danse had been quietly preparing to become possible.
But not yet.
The moment had to be right.
Maxson addressed the room again.
"The Republic believes it can continue advancing because we have been forced to respond to them."
He pointed toward the map.
"That ends now."
His anger had cooled.
What replaced it was more dangerous.
Determination.
"Every commander holds their sector. Vulnerable positions are reinforced. Supply routes receive priority protection. Identify the forces attacking our rear and destroy them when you have the opportunity."
He looked toward Kells.
"No more chasing shadows across the Commonwealth."
"Yes, Elder."
"To Quinlan: I want updated intelligence every six hours."
"Yes."
"To Brandis: consolidate your remaining forces."
Brandis nodded.
"Understood."
"Ingram and Li will begin Liberty Prime preparations immediately."
Both nodded.
"And Danse will strengthen Boston Airport."
Danse saluted.
"Yes, Elder."
Maxson looked once more at the map.
The Republic was coming.
He could feel it.
Perhaps not tomorrow.
Perhaps not even in the next few days.
But the direction was unmistakable.
Boston Airport was no longer safely behind the front.
It was becoming the front.
The meeting began to dissolve.
Kells immediately moved toward the communications officers, already issuing instructions for convoy escorts and patrol redeployments.
Quinlan gathered intelligence reports and began marking new defensive concerns.
Brandis approached his officers to discuss the reorganization of the troops still under his command.
Ingram was already speaking rapidly with engineers about power systems, diagnostics, maintenance crews and the enormous logistical burden of preparing Liberty Prime.
Madison followed, carrying her technical files.
Danse remained near the table for another moment.
He watched the others leave.
Then Madison passed him.
She didn't stop.
Neither did he.
But as they crossed paths, her eyes briefly met his again.
This time there was no uncertainty.
They both knew.
The Brotherhood was being pushed from the outside.
The Republic was advancing toward Boston Airport.
The Institute remained active elsewhere.
Supply routes were becoming vulnerable.
Patrols were being stretched.
And now Liberty Prime was being prepared for what Maxson believed might be the Brotherhood's final defensive effort.
The war had reached the point they had been waiting for.
Soon, they would have to choose their moment.
Danse continued toward the command deck without looking back.
Madison disappeared toward the engineering sections.
Neither said a word.
They didn't need to.
Above them, the Prydwen's engines continued to turn.
Below, Boston waited.
And somewhere beyond the Brotherhood's defensive lines, Republic forces were still moving.
Sarah Lyons and the Sanctuary Regiment continued along their western axis.
Preston Garvey and the Cambridge Regiment continued along theirs.
Behind Brotherhood positions, Robert, MacCready, and the commandos remained active and unseen.
The pressure was no longer coming from one direction.
It was everywhere.
Maxson remained alone for a moment beside the tactical table, staring at the territory slipping gradually from Brotherhood control.
His hand tightened around the edge.
"Hold," he murmured.
Not as a request.
As an order to an entire army.
Outside the command area, officers hurried to carry it out.
Patrols were reorganized.
Convoys were reinforced.
Outposts prepared additional defenses.
Power armor units received new deployment orders.
And deep within the Prydwen, engineers began waking Liberty Prime's systems one by one.
The Brotherhood was preparing for the battle it believed would decide whether Boston remained theirs.
And as the Republic continued closing from the front while its commandos struck from behind, the Brotherhood found itself caught between two enemies with fewer and fewer places left to turn.
______________________________________________
• 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:-