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Chapter 820 - 760. Job Done And Return To Sanctuary

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Sico didn't respond to that. He turned instead, looking back at the gate one last time as the sun dipped lower in the sky. It stood closed now, solid and unyielding. And for the first time since the attack, Starlight Drive-In felt like it was to be.

The night passed without incident.

No alarms.

No distant roars.

No sudden gunfire ripping sleep from people's chests.

Just wind brushing against reinforced walls, the soft creak of new metal settling into place, and the low murmur of guards exchanging shifts beneath lantern light. For the first time since the Behemoth's shadow had fallen over Starlight Drive-In, the settlement slept like something that belonged in the world again.

Morning came slow and pale.

Sunlight crept over the eastern ridgeline, spilling across the cracked asphalt and catching on the gate's steel plating, turning it faintly gold. Fires were rekindled. Coffee was passed hand to hand. People stretched sore muscles and rolled stiff shoulders, complaining quietly but with a strange undercurrent of satisfaction beneath the exhaustion.

They had earned this morning.

Sico stood near the center of the settlement, watching it wake. He hadn't slept much, but he didn't feel the weight of it the way he usually did. The quiet had been real. Not the tense stillness that came before violence, but the kind that came after hard work done properly.

Rick approached from the gate, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes scanning the walls almost reflexively.

"Preston and Sarah are ready when you are," he said. "Thought we'd do a full inspection while the light's good."

Sico nodded. "That's why we're still standing."

They met Preston and Sarah near the northern wall, where the repairs had been most extensive. Preston carried a clipboard thick with notes and measurements, while Sarah had her notepad slung against her side, already cross checking supply usage and structural tolerances.

The four of them moved together, not like commanders overseeing troops, but like builders walking through something they'd helped bring back from the brink.

Up close, the wall looked even stronger in daylight.

The cement had fully set in the cracks, binding old and new materials into something cohesive rather than patched. Steel braces overlapped at calculated intervals, distributing load instead of concentrating it. The firing ports were cleanly cut, edges reinforced, angles tested and retested.

Sarah ran her hand along one section, eyes narrowed in professional focus. "No stress fractures," she said. "We reinforced the internal beams with cross-supports here and here." She tapped the wall lightly. "If something hits this again, the force will travel sideways instead of straight through."

Rick exhaled softly. "So it won't just cave in."

"No," Sarah replied. "It'll fight back."

Preston leaned closer to one of the lower supports. "We doubled the anchors at ground level. Drove them deeper than before. Whatever tried to rip this out last time won't have the leverage."

Sico crouched, inspecting the base himself. Dirt had been packed tight, reinforced with stone and scrap metal to prevent erosion. It wasn't pretty. It didn't need to be.

"This is what it should've been from the start," Rick said quietly.

Sico stood, brushing dust from his gloves. "No," he said. "This is what it became after you learned."

They continued along the perimeter, stopping at each section where the wall transitioned from old structure to new. Preston pointed out reinforcement patterns. Sarah explained material substitutions where original supplies had run short. Rick added notes about adjustments made mid-build when something didn't feel right in practice.

None of them talked over each other.

That alone spoke volumes.

At the eastern corner which the funnel point Sico had flagged days earlier as they stopped longer. The angle had been widened slightly, giving defenders better sightlines while eliminating blind spots that could be exploited by attackers.

Rick frowned slightly. "This was the weak point before. Everything pushed toward it."

"And now?" Sico asked.

Rick knocked on the steel plating with his knuckles. "Now it's a trap for anyone stupid enough to try."

Preston nodded. "We tested firing arcs from three positions. Full coverage. No overlap gaps."

Sico straightened, gaze drifting outward beyond the wall, toward the wasteland stretching quiet and deceptively empty. "Good," he said. "Because next time, whatever comes won't be testing randomly. It'll remember."

They moved on toward the southern entrance.

The gate dominated the approach in full daylight.

It looked almost familiar.

Not identical to the old one as there was no hiding that, but close enough that longtime settlers slowed as they passed it, eyes lingering with something like recognition. The shape was right. The presence was right. Where the old gate had been battered and uneven, this one stood square and confident, its reinforced hinges seated cleanly, its plating aligned with deliberate care.

Rick stopped in front of it, arms folding slowly across his chest. "I wanted it to look like Starlight again," he said. "Not some fortress someone else dropped on us."

Sico studied the gate. "You succeeded."

Sarah stepped closer, kneeling to inspect the lower track. "Movement's smooth," she said. "No drag. No warp. If it ever does take damage, you'll be able to fix it without dismantling the whole structure."

"That was intentional," Rick said. "Modular pieces. Learned that the hard way."

Preston glanced up at the top brace. "We also added internal access points. If someone needs to get to the hinge mounts under fire, they can do it from inside."

Sico reached out and rested his hand against the gate again, just as he had the day before. It still felt cool beneath his palm, solid, unyielding.

"Open it," he said.

Rick nodded to a nearby guard. "Cycle it."

The mechanisms engaged with a low, steady grind. Locks disengaged in sequence. The internal bar slid free. Slowly, the gate began to open.

It moved smoothly.

No sticking.

No shuddering.

No protest.

Sunlight spilled through the widening gap, illuminating the settlement interior behind them and the open road beyond. For a moment, it felt symbolic in a way none of them commented on which the choice between safety and exposure, control and freedom.

"Close it," Sico said.

The gate swung shut just as easily, seals meeting with a deep, reassuring finality. The locks slid back into place. The sound echoed briefly, then faded.

Rick let out a breath. "Former appearance," he said quietly. "But stronger."

"That's how it's supposed to be," Sico replied.

They stood there for a moment longer, all four of them, looking at the gate not as a barrier, but as a line they had chosen to hold.

A settler passed nearby with a crate of tools, nodding respectfully as he went. Another stopped briefly, glancing at the group before speaking.

"Feels different," the woman said. "Like it's ours again."

Sico met her eyes. "It is."

She smiled, just a little, then continued on.

Sarah checked her tablet, then looked up. "Structurally, everything checks out. We'll keep monitoring stress points over the next few weeks, but unless something hits us harder than that Behemoth…" She shrugged slightly. "This'll stand."

Preston folded his clipboard under one arm. "Guards are reporting higher confidence, too. Fewer jumpy mistakes. Fewer false alarms."

Rick glanced at Sico. "People trust the walls."

"They trust you," Sico corrected.

Rick shook his head. "We did it together."

"Yes," Sico said. "That's the difference."

They began walking back toward the center of the settlement, past reinforced structures and newly organized supply areas. Children moved more freely now, no longer clustered nervously near shelters. Someone had hung cloth banners between two posts that nothing official, just scrap fabric stitched together, but it fluttered proudly in the breeze.

Starlight Drive-In no longer looked like a place waiting to be overrun.

It looked like a place that had chosen to endure.

Sico stopped near the command platform, turning slowly to take it all in one last time. Walls restored. Gate rebuilt. People moving with purpose instead of fear.

"This won't be the last time we're tested," he said quietly.

Rick nodded. "I know."

Preston adjusted his hat. "But next time, we'll be ready."

Sarah met Sico's gaze. "Because we learned."

Sico allowed himself a small, rare smile.

"That's all the wasteland ever gives you time for," he said. "Learning. And deciding what you're willing to protect."

The four of them stood there a moment longer after Sico's words faded into the morning air.

Learning. Protecting.

Those ideas lingered heavier than gunfire ever did.

For a while, no one spoke. The sounds of the settlement filled the space instead: boots on concrete, the scrape of a crate being dragged into place, distant voices rising and falling in casual conversation. Life, resuming itself in small, stubborn ways.

Sico broke the silence.

"Rick," he said, his voice low but carrying. "Gather everyone."

Rick turned to him, already understanding. "All of them?"

"Yes," Sico replied. "Settlers. Guards. Anyone who calls this place home."

Rick nodded without hesitation. "I'll make it happen."

He stepped away immediately, moving with that purposeful stride he'd earned over the last few days. He stopped to speak with a guard near the platform, gesturing toward the central open area. The guard nodded and moved off, passing the word down the line. A bell was rung, not loudly, not urgently and just enough to be heard. Voices began to quiet. People looked up, curious.

Preston watched it unfold, then glanced at Sico. "You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

Sico met his gaze. "They held the walls. They deserve to hear where they stand."

Sarah nodded faintly. "Words matter after something like this. People need anchors."

"That's why I'm doing it," Sico said.

It didn't take long.

Settlers drifted in from every corner of Starlight Drive-In. Some came wiping grease from their hands. Others carried children on their hips or stood with arms folded, faces still marked by fatigue. Guards gathered along the edges, rifles slung but relaxed. No one looked afraid. Curious, yes. Cautious. But not afraid.

Rick stepped up onto the low command platform, raising a hand.

"Alright," he called. "Everyone, if you can hear me, come closer."

The crowd tightened, forming a loose semicircle around the platform. Sunlight filtered down between patched awnings and scrap-built structures, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. Somewhere nearby, a brahmin snorted softly, unimpressed by the gravity of the moment.

Rick looked at Sico, then stepped aside.

Sico climbed onto the platform without ceremony.

He didn't raise his voice right away. He let the quiet settle, let eyes find him. He saw everything in those faces from weariness, hope, skepticism, pride. People who had buried friends. People who had lifted beams with shaking hands. People who had stayed when running would've been easier.

When he spoke, his voice was steady and unforced.

"You all did something rare," he said. "You didn't just survive an attack. You rebuilt yourselves afterward."

He let that sit.

"I've seen a lot of settlements in the wasteland," Sico continued. "Most of them fall into two categories. The ones that get lucky and the ones that get strong. Luck fades. Strength doesn't."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, not applause, just recognition.

"You were tested," he said. "Hard. Something big came here. Something that could've wiped this place off the map. And it didn't."

He gestured toward the walls behind them. "Not because of me. Not because of the Freemasons Republic. But because you stood. You lifted. You hammered. You stayed."

A man near the front shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his boots. A woman beside him reached out and squeezed his arm.

Sico's gaze moved slowly across the crowd. "I want you to understand something clearly. The Freemasons Republic didn't come here to claim you. We didn't come here to replace what you built. We came because you chose to stand, and that matters."

He paused, then spoke the words Rick had been waiting to hear.

"The Freemasons Republic will always stand behind Starlight Drive-In."

The reaction wasn't explosive. It wasn't cheers or shouting. It was quieter than that with breaths released, shoulders easing, eyes closing for just a second as the weight shifted.

"We will double our patrols around this settlement," Sico went on. "Day and night. Outer perimeter, inner approaches, trade routes leading in and out. Anyone watching this place will know it's protected. Anyone thinking about testing these walls will think twice."

Preston straightened slightly beside the platform, pride flickering across his face.

"And if something does come again," Sico said, his voice hardening just a fraction, "it won't find you alone."

A woman near the back raised her hand hesitantly. Sico noticed immediately.

"Yes," he said. "Speak."

"What do we have to give in return?" she asked. Her voice wasn't challenging, just wary. "Nothing in the wasteland is free."

Sico nodded once. "That's a fair question."

He looked her directly in the eyes. "You give nothing you haven't already chosen to give. You keep building. You keep defending your home. You keep being the kind of settlement worth protecting."

Silence followed, thoughtful rather than tense.

Rick stepped forward slightly, unable to help himself. "They didn't ask us to kneel," he said, voice carrying. "They didn't ask us to hand anything over. They showed up when it mattered."

A few heads nodded. Someone murmured agreement.

Sico inclined his head toward Rick, then returned his attention to the crowd. "Protection isn't ownership," he said. "It's responsibility. And we take ours seriously."

He took a breath, slower now.

"You've earned time," he said. "Time to rest. Time to heal. Time to make this place more than just another dot on the map that people pass through."

His gaze softened slightly. "Use it."

For a moment, no one moved.

Then someone clapped.

Just one pair of hands at first. Then another. Then another. It spread slowly, unevenly, until the sound filled the open space as the applause wasn't that loud, but it was real. Grateful. Earned.

Sico waited until it died down on its own.

"That's all," he said. "Go back to your lives. We'll handle the rest."

He stepped back from the platform.

Rick climbed up beside him as the crowd began to disperse, voices rising again, lighter now. "That mattered," Rick said quietly.

"Yes," Sico replied. "It did."

They watched as people returned to their tasks. A guard laughed at something someone said. A child ran past, chasing another with a scrap of cloth fluttering behind them like a flag. The settlement breathed, easier than it had days ago.

Preston approached, adjusting his hat. "Patrol schedules are already being redrafted," he said. "We'll integrate their routes with ours."

"Good," Sico said. "Make sure there's overlap. No blind spots."

Sarah joined them, her expression thoughtful. "They needed that reassurance," she said. "You could feel it."

"They earned it," Sico replied.

Rick leaned against the railing of the platform, looking out over Starlight Drive-In. "You know," he said, "for the first time since the attack, I'm not waiting for the next one."

Sico glanced at him. "That doesn't mean it won't come."

Rick nodded. "I know. But now, when it does, we won't freeze."

"That's the difference between fear and readiness," Sico said.

The words settled among them like something solid, something earned.

For a moment longer, the four of them remained where they were, leaning against the low railing of the command platform, watching Starlight Drive-In breathe. The settlement had a rhythm again. Not the frantic pulse of survival, but a steadier cadence from work, laughter, quiet conversations that didn't stop when footsteps approached.

Then Sico straightened.

The shift was subtle, but unmistakable. Not urgency. Not alarm. Just transition.

"Sarah," he said, turning slightly toward her. "Start prepping the vehicles."

Sarah looked up at him, already anticipating the details. "All of them?"

"Humvees, supply trucks, and all three Sentinel tanks," Sico replied. "Full inspection. Fuel, ammo, hydraulics, comms. I don't want surprises on the road back to Sanctuary."

Sarah nodded immediately, already pulling her tablet free. "I'll need about two hours to run full diagnostics on the Sentinels. Humvees and trucks less if the crews help."

"You'll have help," Sico said. "Take who you need."

She hesitated just a fraction, then met his eyes. "You're pulling out today."

"Yes."

Sarah didn't argue. She never did when the decision had already been made. "Alright," she said. "I'll get started."

She stepped off the platform with purpose, already calling out instructions to a nearby technician, her voice clear and efficient. Within seconds, people were moving from the guards redirecting traffic away from the motor pool, mechanics grabbing toolkits, someone sprinting to fetch spare parts from storage.

Rick watched her go, then glanced back at Sico. "You're really heading back already."

"We can't linger," Sico said. "Not with Sanctuary waiting. Not with patrol routes expanding."

Rick nodded slowly. "Still you'll leave some people behind?"

Sico turned to him fully. "Yes. A rotating detachment. Enough to reinforce patrols, support people, and make good on what I promised."

Rick let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Good."

Sico shifted his attention to Preston.

"Preston," he said.

Preston straightened immediately, already halfway into command mode. "Yes?"

"Gather the soldiers who came with us," Sico continued. "We're prepping for return. Anyone injured gets priority seating in the trucks."

Preston nodded firmly. "Understood. Serious injuries first, then minor. No one rides on armor unless they're cleared."

"Correct," Sico said. "And make sure med kits are distributed evenly between vehicles."

Preston was already moving. "I'll handle it."

He tipped his hat briefly to Rick, then strode off toward the barracks area, voice carrying as he began calling names and assignments. Soldiers responded immediately, some jogging, others helping injured comrades to their feet with practiced care.

Rick watched the sudden flurry of organized movement unfold around them.

"That's it, then," he said quietly. "You roll out, and we hold."

Sico rested his forearms on the railing, gaze sweeping across the settlement one last time. "You don't just hold," he said. "You build. And we come back."

Rick smiled faintly. "I'll hold you to that."

"You should," Sico replied.

The motor pool came alive with controlled chaos.

Humvees were rolled into position, hoods popped, engines cycling through test runs. Trucks were backed into loading lanes, their beds already being cleared and padded with salvaged mattresses, blankets, and spare tarps to accommodate injured passengers. The Sentinel tanks loomed at the far end of the lot, massive and patient, their armor scarred but intact, Republic insignia still visible beneath layers of dust.

Sarah moved through it all like a conductor, her voice cutting cleanly through the noise.

"Hydraulics team on Sentinel One, check the left tread alignment."

"Fuel levels on the Humvees need to be topped off now, not later."

"Someone get me the diagnostic cable for Sentinel Three, I want its targeting array checked twice."

Technicians scrambled to comply, none questioning the pace or the thoroughness. They'd learned, the hard way, that shortcuts only ever came back to collect interest.

Sico walked the line himself.

He checked inside each truck, ensuring space was properly arranged for stretchers and seated injured alike. He spoke quietly with medics, confirming who needed what during transport. He paused beside a soldier with a bandaged arm, asking how it felt, listening to the answer instead of just nodding.

"You ride in the truck," Sico said firmly when the soldier started to protest.

"Yes, sir," the soldier replied, relief slipping through despite his attempt to hide it.

Nearby, Preston was organizing squads into departure groups, his clipboard already smudged with dirt and sweat.

"Alpha and Bravo squads in the first Humvees," he called. "Charlie rides escort with Sentinel One. Delta, you're rear security with Sentinel Three."

A young soldier glanced toward the trucks, then back at Preston. "What about Evan? He took a hit to the leg."

"Truck," Preston replied without hesitation. "Front section. Medic with him."

Evan looked like he wanted to argue. Sico caught his eye and shook his head once.

"That's not a demotion," Sico said calmly. "That's priority."

Evan swallowed, then nodded. "Understood."

As preparations continued, settlers drifted closer, curiosity mixing with something heavier. They watched Republic soldiers work with practiced efficiency, watched the tanks come alive as systems hummed and lights flickered across control panels.

Rick joined Sico near the edge of the motor pool.

"They're really leaving," Rick said quietly.

"Yes."

Rick folded his arms. "Feels strange. Just when things started to feel stable."

Sico glanced at him. "Stability isn't about who's present," he said. "It's about what remains when they're gone."

Rick considered that. "You're leaving us stronger than you found us."

"That was the intent."

Rick looked out at the tanks, then back at the settlement. "We'll keep improving. Walls, patrols, trade."

"I know," Sico said. "That's why this works."

The injured were loaded first.

Medics moved carefully, lifting stretchers in practiced synchrony, securing straps, adjusting pillows. Some of the wounded tried to joke, deflecting discomfort with humor that fell somewhere between forced and genuine.

"Guess I finally get a cushy ride," one muttered as he was eased into a truck.

"Don't get used to it," the medic replied dryly.

Others were quieter. One young woman clutched a small metal charm in her hand, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the truck bed as if counting breaths. Sico paused beside her.

"You'll be back on your feet," he said softly.

She nodded without looking at him. "I know."

Once the injured were secured, remaining soldiers began boarding Humvees, weapons stowed but within reach. The Sentinel crews climbed into their stations, hatch covers closing with heavy, resonant clangs.

Sarah finished her last check on Sentinel Two and jogged over to Sico.

"All vehicles green," she reported. "No faults. Tanks are running smooth. We're good to move when you are."

Sico nodded. "Good work."

She hesitated, then glanced toward the settlement. "They'll be alright."

"They will," Sico said. "Because they chose to be."

Sarah allowed herself a small smile, then turned back to oversee final loading.

As the convoy prepared to roll, Rick gathered a handful of settlers near the gate. No speech this time. No ceremony. Just presence.

When Sico approached, Rick extended his hand.

"Thank you," Rick said. "For everything."

Sico took it, gripping firmly. "You did the hardest part."

Rick shook his head. "We learned how to stand. You showed us how to keep standing."

Sico released his hand. "That knowledge doesn't belong to us. It belongs to you now."

Sico released Rick's hand, but he didn't step away immediately.

For a brief moment, the noise of engines idling, voices calling out final checks, and the low mechanical hum of the Sentinels seemed to fade into the background. The gate stood open behind Rick, sunlight spilling through it in a long, angled line that cut across the motor pool like a quiet reminder that every departure left something behind.

Sico turned slightly, scanning the perimeter.

Robert stood a short distance away near the lead Humvee, helmet under his arm, posture straight and alert even now. His eyes never stopped moving from checking sightlines, counting personnel, reading the settlement the same way he read a battlefield. Nearby, MacCready leaned against the hood of a Humvee, arms crossed, expression casual on the surface, but his gaze kept drifting toward the walls and the ridgelines beyond them.

They were watching.

Not just the convoy.

The settlement.

Sico stepped toward them.

Robert noticed immediately and straightened, shifting his weight as Sico approached. MacCready pushed off the hood, rolling his shoulders once, already sensing this wasn't just a casual check-in.

"Robert," Sico said. "MacCready."

"Yes, sir," Robert replied.

MacCready tilted his head. "You've got that look. Either you're about to volunteer us for something, or I'm about to regret not pretending I couldn't hear you."

Sico didn't smile, but there was a flicker of something close to it in his eyes. "I need both of you to stay behind."

MacCready blinked. "Stay behind here?"

"For a few days," Sico clarified. "You and the Commandos assigned to overwatch. I want you integrated with the patrols. Day and night rotations. Outer perimeter, interior sweeps, and extended scouting beyond the walls."

Robert didn't hesitate. "Understood."

MacCready let out a slow breath, then glanced toward the convoy, then back to Sico. "And after?"

"After that," Sico said, "you return to Sanctuary."

MacCready studied his face for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. That tracks."

Robert's expression remained composed, but his eyes sharpened slightly. "You're leaving us here as reassurance."

"Yes," Sico said plainly. "And as teeth, if reassurance isn't enough."

Robert inclined his head. "That's wise."

MacCready snorted softly. "Careful, boss. Compliments like that'll go to your head."

Sico's gaze shifted past them, back toward Rick and the settlers near the gate. "This place needs continuity," he said. "Not just promises. You're known quantities. People trust you. They've seen you fight. They've seen you bleed."

MacCready shrugged. "Hard to fake that last part."

Robert spoke again, voice steady. "How many Commandos?"

"One squad stays with you," Sico replied. "Rotate shifts with Preston's people. Teach them what you know. Learn what they know."

Robert nodded. "We'll adapt."

MacCready scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward the walls again. "Guess I'll miss the scenic drive back."

"You'll get it in a few days," Sico said. "And when you do, I want a full report."

MacCready smirked. "Oh, I'll give you a report. Probably longer than you want."

Sico turned slightly, his voice lowering. "This isn't a punishment. It's trust."

That wiped the humor from MacCready's expression. He nodded once, more seriously this time. "Got it."

Robert squared his shoulders. "We'll keep them safe."

"I know," Sico said. "That's why I'm asking."

He paused, then added, "Coordinate with Rick as well. He's earned your respect."

Robert glanced toward Rick, then back. "Already has."

MacCready nodded. "Yeah. Guy's got backbone."

Sico stepped back, giving them both a final look. "Few days," he repeated. "Then you come home."

"Copy that, boss," MacCready said.

Robert gave a crisp nod. "We'll hold the line."

Sico turned away, leaving them already shifting into motion.

MacCready watched Sico walk back toward the convoy, then glanced at Robert.

"Well," he said, "guess we're locals now."

Robert didn't respond immediately. He was already scanning the settlement again, recalculating patrol routes in his head. "Temporary," he said finally. "But important."

MacCready followed his gaze. "You think something's coming."

Robert's jaw tightened slightly. "I think something noticed."

MacCready exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. Same."

He looked toward the walls, the gate, the settlers lingering nearby. "At least they're not helpless."

"No," Robert agreed. "They're learning."

MacCready smiled faintly. "Funny how that keeps coming up."

Then the convoy was nearly ready.

Engines revved slightly as final checks were completed. Drivers exchanged hand signals. The Sentinels' turrets rotated through brief calibration arcs, then locked forward.

Sico climbed into the lead Humvee, but before closing the door, he looked back one last time.

Rick stood near the gate with Preston now, both men watching the preparations unfold. When Rick noticed Sico's gaze, he lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

Sico returned the gesture.

Then the convoy moved.

The Humvees rolled forward first, tires crunching over gravel and cracked asphalt. The trucks followed, moving carefully, suspension groaning under the weight of wounded passengers and supplies. The Sentinel tanks came last, engines rumbling low and powerful, each one passing through the gate like a final punctuation mark.

As the last tank cleared the entrance, the gate began to close.

Metal slid into place with a deep, confident sound.

And then the convoy was gone, dust rising behind it, slowly settling back into the land like a memory.

Starlight Drive-In felt different once the engines faded.

Quieter.

Not emptier, but altered.

The Republic presence was reduced now, but not gone. Robert stood near the central intersection with a small cluster of Commandos, already speaking with Preston. MacCready leaned against a railing nearby, helmet tucked under his arm, listening more than he spoke.

Rick approached them after a moment.

"So," he said, folding his arms. "Looks like you're stuck with us."

MacCready grinned. "I've been stuck in worse places."

Robert extended a hand. "We'll coordinate patrol schedules immediately."

Rick took it. "Good. I want overlap on the eastern ridge and the creek approach."

Robert nodded. "Already planned."

MacCready raised an eyebrow. "See? We're already finishing each other's sentences."

Rick snorted. "Let's hope that doesn't become a habit."

They moved together toward the map table near the command platform. Preston spread out updated patrol charts, marking routes, timing intervals, fallback positions.

"We'll integrate your Commandos here," Preston said, tapping the map. "This stretch has good sightlines but poor cover."

Robert leaned in. "We can supplement with rotating overwatch from elevated points."

MacCready pointed at another area. "And this spot? Too quiet. Quiet spots always make me nervous."

Rick nodded. "Mine too."

They talked like professionals, like people who understood the cost of mistakes. There was no posturing, no territorial friction. Just shared responsibility.

As they planned, settlers moved around them, watching with interest, with trust.

A woman carrying a crate paused nearby. "You're staying?" she asked MacCready.

"For a bit," he replied.

She smiled. "Good."

That was it. No speech. No thanks. Just relief.

MacCready watched her walk away, then glanced at Robert. "See? We're popular."

Robert allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile.

That night, Starlight settled into a new routine.

Patrols moved along the walls with measured confidence. Robert walked the perimeter with Preston, pointing out subtle vulnerabilities, places where shadows gathered too thickly or sound carried too poorly. MacCready took a squad out beyond the walls, teaching them how to read terrain not just for what it was, but for what it might hide.

"Tracks don't lie," he said, crouching near a patch of disturbed earth. "But they don't tell the whole truth either. You gotta read what's missing."

The soldiers listened, asked questions, tried to mimic his casual competence. He corrected them gently, firmly when needed.

Later, as fires burned low and the settlement prepared for rest, MacCready sat on a crate near the gate, cleaning his rifle. A young guard approached hesitantly.

"Sir?"

MacCready glanced up. "If you call me sir, I'm leaving."

The guard flushed. "Sorry. Uh… MacCready."

"That's better."

"Just wanted to say thanks. For staying."

MacCready paused, then nodded. "You're welcome."

The guard hesitated. "You really think something else might come?"

MacCready considered the question, then shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But if it does, it'll find us ready."

The guard nodded, visibly reassured, and walked away.

MacCready watched him go, then looked up at the wall, the gate, the stars just beginning to appear above the wasteland.

"Few days," he muttered to himself. "Yeah. We can do that."

On the far road to Sanctuary, Sico watched the land roll by through the Humvee's windshield.

He felt the absence behind him.

But he also felt the strength left there.

Robert and MacCready would hold Starlight steady for those few days. They would teach, reinforce, listen. And then they would return, bringing with them more than just reports as they'd bring proof that what they were building worked.

________________________________________________

• 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:-

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