Fallout 4: Rebirth At Vault 81

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For a moment, there was only silence. Then, one of the recruits—one of the youngest, barely old enough to grow stubble—stepped forward and saluted. Others followed, until the entire group was standing at attention. Sico returned the salute, pride swelling in his chest.

Sico let the silence linger for a moment, letting the recruits stand together in solidarity. The weight of their losses was heavy, but it was in moments like these that they had to find strength. If they let the grief consume them, they wouldn't last in the wasteland.

He turned to Preston and Sarah. "We're not done yet. We need to secure the area and give our fallen a proper resting place. Preston, take half the recruits and set up patrols around the perimeter. I don't want any surprises while we're tending to our dead."

Preston nodded immediately, already scanning the faces of the recruits to pick out the ones best suited for the job. "Understood, General. We'll keep the area locked down."

Sico shifted his gaze to Sarah. "The rest of you will handle the burials. We're going to honor them, not leave them to rot in the open. Find a good spot nearby—somewhere we can come back to if we need to."

Sarah gave a solemn nod. "I'll make sure it's done right."

She turned to her group, her voice sharp and steady. "You heard him. Grab shovels, clear a proper space. We're not dumping them in a hole—we're making a place where they can rest."

The recruits under her command, though still shaken, didn't hesitate. They moved quickly, retrieving shovels and looking for a suitable site. The ground was rough, but they'd make it work. It was the least they could do.

Meanwhile, Preston gathered his patrol group and began setting up rotations. The night might have been quiet now, but there was no telling if more raiders or wildlife would come sniffing around the battlefield. They needed to be ready.

Sico took a deep breath and moved among the recruits, stopping to check on those who looked the most shaken. He knew what they were feeling—that gnawing pit in the stomach, the lingering tremble in their hands. He'd felt it himself, once. He knelt beside one young woman, her fingers clenched so tightly around her rifle that her knuckles were white.

"First fight?" he asked gently.

She flinched at first, then nodded stiffly. "Yeah."

"You did good," he told her. "You survived. Your squad survived. That's not luck—that's you doing your job."

She swallowed, looking away for a moment. "Does it ever get easier?"

Sico hesitated. He could have lied, told her that with time, the weight of it all would lessen. But that wasn't the truth.

"No," he admitted. "You just learn how to carry it."

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of false comfort. When she found none, she gave a small nod, as if accepting it.

Sico squeezed her shoulder briefly before standing. "Get some rest when you can. We'll be moving in the morning."

She nodded again, and he moved on.

Sarah's group had found a suitable clearing not far from the factory. The ground was firm but not impossible to dig. They worked in near silence, the only sounds the scraping of shovels against dirt and the occasional muttered instructions. It was slow, backbreaking work, but none of them complained.

The bodies of the fallen were carefully carried to the site, each one wrapped in whatever fabric they could find—Minutemen coats, spare tarps, even clean sections of raider clothing if that was all they had. They deserved dignity in death, no matter the circumstances.

As the graves were dug and the fallen laid to rest, Sico joined them, standing over the rows of freshly turned earth. He didn't know all of them personally, but that didn't matter. They were Minutemen, and that meant they were his responsibility.

Sarah wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced at him. "We're ready."

Sico nodded and turned to the remaining recruits, those who had fought alongside the ones now in the ground. "We'll say a few words, then we'll let them rest."

The group gathered, some bowing their heads, others standing stiffly at attention. Sico took a step forward and let the words come naturally.

"They stood with us when it mattered. They fought, not because they were forced to, but because they chose to protect the people who couldn't protect themselves. That's what being a Minuteman is about. It's not just about fighting—it's about making sure others have a chance to live. They gave their lives for that cause."

He let the words sink in before finishing, "We honor them by carrying on. By making sure their sacrifice wasn't in vain. By making sure the Commonwealth is a little safer tomorrow than it was today."

A few of the recruits murmured agreements. Others simply nodded.

Sarah took a small step forward, her voice quiet. "We should mark the graves. If we ever come back this way, we should know who's here."

Sico agreed. They had no proper headstones, but they found ways—wooden planks, pieces of old metal, even simple carvings in the dirt. Each grave was marked with a name, and where there was no name, they left a symbol of the Minutemen.

When the last grave was filled and marked, Sico turned away, exhaustion settling into his bones.

He found Preston returning from patrol, his rifle slung over his shoulder. "Perimeter's secure," he reported. "No sign of stragglers. I think the raiders got the message."

Sico exhaled slowly. "Good. Then we set up camp here for the night. No point in marching recruits in the dark when they're dead on their feet."

Preston nodded in agreement. "I'll get the rotations set for night watch."

Sico clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Get some rest too, Preston. We'll need you fresh in the morning."

Preston gave a tired smirk. "You too, General."

Sico exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the weight of the battle settled into his bones. The night was still thick with smoke, but the worst was over. They had secured the area, buried their fallen, and ensured no immediate threats loomed in the shadows. Now came the next task—making sure his people got the rest they needed to keep going.

He turned to Sarah, who was watching the fresh graves with a somber expression. "Sarah," he called softly.

She turned to him, wiping her hands on her pants. "Yeah?"

"I need you to grab some of the female recruits and start preparing dinner. We've all been running on fumes, and we need to eat."

She blinked, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to her, then let out a tired chuckle. "Right. Food. Can't fight on an empty stomach."

"Exactly." He glanced at the recruits who had been helping with the burials, their faces still pale, their hands trembling from exhaustion. "Get whoever's still steady on their feet to help. Doesn't have to be fancy, just something warm."

Sarah nodded and turned to a small group of women nearby. "Alright, you heard the General. Let's get a fire going and see what we've got to cook."

A few of the recruits hesitated, as if unsure whether they should be doing something more…military, but when Sarah shot them a look, they quickly scrambled to follow her orders. Some of them set out to gather whatever ingredients they had in their packs, while others began stacking firewood near a relatively clear patch of ground.

Sico then turned to Preston. "I need you to take some of the guys and start setting up a place for everyone to rest. We're not marching through the night. We'll sleep here and move out in the morning."

Preston nodded. "Makes sense. We'll need a windbreak, at least. Temperature's dropping fast."

Sico rubbed his arms, feeling the chill settle in now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Use whatever we can find—old crates, tarps, anything that'll keep us from freezing our asses off."

"Got it." Preston gestured to a group of men who looked like they still had energy to spare. "Alright, you lot, with me. Let's get to work."

As they moved off to start salvaging materials, Sico took a slow breath and looked around. The recruits were moving like a real unit now. There was exhaustion, sure, but there was also determination. They had survived their first real battle together, and that counted for something.

Sarah's group was already getting a small fire going, the flames flickering against the darkness. Someone had found a battered metal pot, and a few recruits were dumping in what little rations they had—cans of old beans, some dried meat, even a handful of wild vegetables one of them had picked up on the road. It wasn't going to be a feast, but it would be warm, and that was what mattered.

Sico walked over and crouched next to the fire, rubbing his hands together as the heat soaked into his skin. Sarah glanced at him, her face illuminated by the orange glow.

"You should eat first," she said, stirring the pot with a makeshift wooden spoon. "You're running on empty."

He smirked. "I'll eat when everyone else has."

She rolled her eyes. "Stubborn."

"Leader."

"Same thing," she muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

Meanwhile, Preston and his team were making quick work of assembling a resting area. They had found some old wooden panels and repurposed them as windbreaks, using salvaged tarps to cover the ground. It wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping in the open.

Sico pushed himself up and walked over to check on their progress. "How's it looking?"

Preston wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Good enough. Could be worse."

Sico nodded. "Everything in the wasteland could be worse."

"No kidding." Preston stretched his arms, then gestured toward the fire. "Dinner ready yet?"

"Almost."

"Well, that's the best news I've heard all night." He let out a long breath. "Damn, I could use a drink."

Sico chuckled. "I think we all could."

When the food was finally ready, Sarah and her team passed out bowls, making sure everyone got something. The recruits ate in relative silence, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the occasional murmur of conversation. Some sat together in small groups, whispering about the battle, about home, about what tomorrow might bring. Others ate alone, lost in their own thoughts.

Sico took his own bowl and sat near the fire, letting the warmth seep into his bones. The stew was simple, but after the day they'd had, it tasted like the best meal he'd ever had.

Preston sat down next to him, letting out a satisfied sigh as he took his first bite. "Not bad."

Sarah smirked. "You sound surprised."

"I expected worse."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, next time, you can cook."

"I'll pass."

Sico let their banter wash over him, feeling, for the first time in hours, something close to peace. It was a small moment, but out here, moments like these mattered.

As the recruits finished eating, some of them started laying down on whatever makeshift bedding they had. Others stayed up, keeping watch or simply staring into the flames. The night was still dangerous, but for now, they had a place to rest.

Sico leaned back slightly, feeling the warmth of the fire against his face as the night deepened around them. The recruits were settling in, some still whispering among themselves, while others had already drifted off into uneasy sleep. The weight of the battle still lingered in the air, but for now, they had food in their stomachs and a place to rest.

He glanced at Preston, who was finishing the last few bites of his meal, looking more exhausted than he probably wanted to admit. "Did you already set the patrol shifts?" Sico asked, keeping his voice low but firm.

Preston exhaled through his nose, setting his empty bowl aside. "Yeah. Got two-man teams rotating every three hours. First shift's already out there, second shift's getting some rest so they're ready when it's their turn."

Sico gave a small nod of approval. "Good. Last thing we need is a bunch of raiders thinking they can hit us while we're down."

"They'd be idiots to try," Preston muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "But we both know idiots are in no short supply out here."

Sico huffed a quiet laugh. "That's the truth."

They sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the low murmur of the wind and the distant sounds of the Commonwealth—muted, eerie, always hinting at unseen dangers. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the tired faces of their people.

Sarah, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. "We should be out of here at first light. The longer we stay in one place, the more likely we are to draw attention."

Sico nodded. He had been thinking the same thing. "Agreed. We move at dawn."

Preston shifted, rolling his shoulders with a tired groan. "Gonna be a rough morning."

Sarah gave him a wry smirk. "Welcome to the Minutemen."

Preston scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Remind me why I signed up for this again?"

Sico smirked. "Because you're too stubborn to walk away."

Preston chuckled, shaking his head. "Damn right."

The conversation died down again, and Sico let himself relax—just a little. He watched as a few of the recruits finally let exhaustion take over, curling up in their makeshift bedding. Others still sat near the fire, staring into the flames as if looking for answers they knew wouldn't come.

He understood that feeling all too well.

After a moment, he pushed himself up, stretching his sore muscles. "I'm gonna check on the patrol. You two should get some rest."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "And you?"

"I'll sleep when I know we're safe," he replied simply.

Preston sighed but didn't argue. "Just don't push yourself too hard, General. Even you need sleep."

Sico gave him a small smirk. "Noted."

With that, he stepped away from the fire, heading toward the perimeter where his patrols were making their rounds. The night was cold, the kind of chill that settled deep in the bones, but he barely noticed. His mind was too focused on what lay ahead.

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• 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:-