If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
Sico took a deep breath, steadying himself. There was still work to do. The battle might be over, but the war never truly ended. He just had to keep moving forward.
Sico took a deep breath, letting the weight of the casualty report settle in his chest. Sixty-seven dead. He knew war wasn't without losses, but the number was higher than he'd hoped, higher than even their battle with the Institute. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He shook himself. There was no time to dwell—there were still things to be done.
His gaze drifted toward the walls of Diamond City, standing tall despite the chaos that had just unfolded. He needed to check on the city's defenses, make sure they could hold if another attack came. With that thought, he turned on his heel and started toward the walls, weaving through the battlefield where bodies were still being gathered.
The scent of blood and gunpowder lingered in the air, but now, with the fighting over, a heavier smell took its place—burning debris, smoldering wreckage, the distinct metallic tang of heated metal. Fires from explosions had been extinguished, but the damage remained.
As he approached the wall, he spotted Sturges and his team already hard at work. They moved with practiced efficiency, inspecting every inch of the defenses, looking for weak spots or areas that had taken too much damage. A few of them were up on ladders, checking the metal plating and sandbag reinforcements, while others walked along the perimeter, taking notes and muttering to each other.
Sico called out as he got closer. "Sturges!"
The man turned, wiping sweat and grime from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. His overalls were dirtier than usual, coated in dust and soot, and there was a fresh tear near the knee.
"Well, if it ain't the man of the hour," Sturges said, giving Sico a nod. "Hell of a fight back there."
Sico exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah… but I need to know how bad it is. What's the situation with the walls?"
Sturges motioned for Sico to follow him, leading him along the perimeter as he spoke. "Took a beating, that's for damn sure. Those raiders weren't playing around—they brought explosives, heavy firepower. We got some dents, some plating came loose, but the real problem is over here."
He stopped and pointed to a section where a large chunk of metal siding had been blown inward. The force of the blast had bent the steel in places, and some of the wooden supports behind it had splintered under the pressure. It wasn't a full breach, but it wasn't good either.
"This is the worst of it," Sturges continued. "We're lucky it didn't cave in completely, but it's weak now. If we get hit again before we patch it up, it won't hold."
Sico frowned, stepping closer to run his fingers along the damaged plating. It was hot to the touch, probably from the fires that had raged not too long ago. "How long to fix it?"
Sturges scratched his chin. "Depends. If we just reinforce it with whatever scrap we got lying around, maybe a day. But if you want it done right—replacing the supports, welding new plates—gonna take longer. Three, four days, maybe a week, depending on how many hands I got working."
Sico nodded slowly, weighing the options. "We don't have time for a full repair right now. Prioritize reinforcement. Use whatever you can find, but make sure it'll hold if we get hit again."
Sturges grinned. "Good call, boss. I'll get my guys on it."
Sico sighed, glancing up at the walls. They had held today, but next time? Next time, they might not be so lucky.
"Anything else I should know?" he asked.
Sturges hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yeah. We lost a few turrets. The ones near the main gate took the worst of it—either shot to hell or blown apart. We'll need to replace 'em, but that means more parts, more power cells."
Sico clenched his jaw. "We'll figure something out. First, focus on getting the walls reinforced."
"You got it, General." Sturges turned, barking orders at his team as they moved to gather supplies.
Sico lingered for a moment, watching them work. The city had survived, but survival wasn't enough. They needed to be stronger, better prepared. Because if today had taught him anything, it was that Diamond City was still a target.
Sico exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the weight of the day pressed down on him. The walls had taken damage, but they'd hold—for now. Sturges and his team were already moving, gathering whatever scrap and materials they could find to reinforce the weak points. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would have to do until they could make proper repairs.
But that wasn't the only thing weighing on his mind.
The injured.
The ones who had survived the battle but weren't whole.
Sico turned away from the wall and started toward the field hospital. His boots crunched against the dirt, every step feeling heavier than the last. The battlefield was still littered with bodies, both raiders and Minutemen alike. Some were being moved onto carts, taken for proper burials, while others had already been covered with tattered blankets. The sight twisted something in his chest.
He forced himself to look ahead. He had to keep moving.
The field hospital was set up in the market square, just inside the gates of Diamond City. It wasn't a real hospital, but it was the best they had. Rows of cots lined the space, makeshift beds filled with wounded men and women, some groaning in pain, others deathly silent. The air was thick with the scent of blood, antiseptic, and sweat.
Dr. Sun was in the middle of it all, moving with practiced efficiency, barking orders to the medics as they worked. His coat was stained with blood, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he stitched a wound on a soldier's side. His face was set in a deep frown, lines of exhaustion etched into his skin, but his hands remained steady.
Sico stepped forward. "Doc."
Dr. Sun barely glanced up. "Busy, General."
"I can see that." Sico looked around, taking in the sheer number of wounded. Some had simple injuries—bullet grazes, cuts, bruises—but others weren't so lucky. A soldier a few cots down had a tourniquet tied around his leg, his face pale as he clutched his thigh where his lower leg should've been. Another was unconscious, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths as a medic applied pressure to a gunshot wound.
"How bad is it?" Sico asked, keeping his voice steady.
Dr. Sun let out a sharp breath, finishing the stitches before finally meeting Sico's gaze. "Depends on how you define 'bad.' We've got thirty soldiers with minor injuries—nothing life-threatening. They'll heal up fine with time. But twenty-seven are in serious condition. Some of them won't make it through the night."
Sico clenched his jaw. "What do you need?"
The doctor scoffed. "More medics, more stimpaks, more blood packs—hell, if you can pull a full hospital out of your ass, I wouldn't complain."
Sico sighed. Supplies were always an issue. They had stimpaks, sure, but not enough. Blood packs were in short supply. And trained medics? Even rarer.
"I'll send some runners to Goodneighbor, see if they can trade for supplies," Sico said. "Maybe even Bunker Hill."
Dr. Sun nodded. "Good. Do it fast. We're running on fumes here."
Sico turned, scanning the room again, and his eyes landed on Preston, standing near a cot where a young Minuteman lay, blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around his side. The kid was barely conscious, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Sico moved closer. "Who's this?"
Preston looked up, his expression grim. "Private Harris. Just turned eighteen last month."
Sico's stomach twisted. Harris had been one of the new recruits, fresh-faced, full of hope. Now he was fighting for his life, his skin pale, eyes glassy.
Sico knelt beside him. "Harris."
The kid's eyes flickered open, unfocused at first, but then they locked onto Sico. A weak smile tugged at his lips. "G-General…"
"Yeah, kid. I'm here."
Harris swallowed, wincing. "Did we… win?"
Sico forced himself to nod. "Yeah. We won."
The relief on Harris' face was immediate. "Good… That's good." His eyelids fluttered.
Sico reached out, gripping his hand firmly. "You hang in there, Harris. You're gonna be alright."
The kid didn't answer. His breathing slowed, and for a terrifying second, Sico thought he'd lost him. But then a shallow breath came, and another. Barely hanging on.
Preston's face was tight. "Doc says he's got a chance. But only if we get more supplies soon."
Sico nodded, standing. "I'll make sure we do."
He turned back to Dr. Sun. "I'll send word to our traders. Anything else?"
The doctor hesitated before shaking his head. "Just get me what I need, General. I'll do the rest."
Sico clapped a hand on his shoulder, then turned on his heel, walking out of the hospital. The moment he stepped outside, he inhaled deeply, trying to shake the feeling of helplessness that clung to him like a second skin.
Sico exhaled sharply, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a lead blanket. The walls were damaged, the wounded were barely clinging on, and supplies were running low. He needed to move, to do something before the situation got any worse.
His mind immediately went to Piper. If anyone could get word out quickly and make things happen, it was her.
He turned toward Publick Occurrences, his boots scuffing against the cracked pavement as he moved through Diamond City's streets. The market had quieted after the battle, the usual lively chatter replaced by hushed voices and wary glances. Even the vendors, normally eager to peddle their wares, were subdued.
As he passed, people stopped what they were doing to watch him. Some nodded in gratitude, others just stared, their faces a mix of admiration and fear. He wasn't just another Minuteman to them—he was the man who had led Diamond City through hell and back.
Sico ignored the weight of their gazes and pushed forward, rounding the corner toward Piper's home and office. The familiar sight of the rickety, makeshift newspaper stand brought a small sense of normalcy.
He knocked on the wooden doorframe. "Piper, you in?"
A muffled voice came from inside. "If you're a raider, I'm armed! If you're a reader, come back later! If you're Sico, get in here before Nat eats all the damn food."
Sico smirked and stepped inside.
Piper was seated at her desk, scribbling notes on a crumpled piece of paper, her dark hair messy and pulled back into a loose ponytail. Nat sat across from her, munching on what looked like an old box of Sugar Bombs.
Piper glanced up, her expression shifting the moment she saw him. The usual cocky smirk faltered for a second, replaced by something softer. Concerned. "You look like hell."
Sico scoffed. "Feel like it too."
She set her pencil down, leaning forward. "What's going on?"
Sico pulled out a chair and sat across from her, rubbing a hand over his face before meeting her eyes. "I need runners sent to Goodneighbor and Bunker Hill. We need medical supplies—stimpaks, blood packs, antibiotics. Everything we can get our hands on."
Piper nodded, already reaching for another piece of paper. "I can make that happen. How fast do you need them out?"
"Yesterday."
She let out a low whistle. "Alright, no pressure." She turned to Nat. "Go find Danny, tell him we need every available runner on deck. He knows who to call."
Nat shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth, then saluted dramatically. "Aye-aye, Captain News." She bolted out the door before Piper could scold her for the nickname.
Piper turned back to Sico. "You thinking of sending them on foot?"
He shook his head. "No. Too slow. We've got that old truck sitting near the gate."
Piper frowned. "The one that barely runs?"
"It runs," Sico said. "And right now, that's all that matters. If we can get it started, it'll cut the travel time in half."
Piper sighed, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You really know how to push your luck, huh?"
Sico gave her a tired smirk. "It's a skill."
She shook her head and stood. "Alright. I'll get the message out, and I'll have the runners ready in an hour. But you owe me for this."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's the price?"
Piper crossed her arms, a smirk creeping onto her face. "Exclusive interview. No dodging, no vague answers. Just you, me, and the truth about today."
Sico let out a low chuckle. "You never miss a chance, do you?"
"Never."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. After this is all handled, I'll sit down with you."
Piper grinned. "I'll hold you to that."
With that settled, she grabbed her coat and slung it over her shoulders. "I'll make sure the runners know what they're doing. You should probably check on that truck. If it breaks down halfway, we're screwed."
Sico stood, stretching out his stiff muscles. "Yeah. I'll get on that."
As he turned to leave, Piper called out after him. "Hey, Sico."
He paused in the doorway, glancing back.
She hesitated for a second before saying, "Be careful, alright?"
He gave her a small nod. "Always."
Then he stepped back into the streets, the weight of responsibility still heavy on his shoulders. The battle was over, but the real fight—the fight to rebuild, to keep everyone alive—was just beginning.
________________________________________________
• 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:-