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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Because there was always more to do, with always more to build. And now, they had the means to protect it.
The evening before had settled into Sanctuary the way it always did now, with the last vertibird patrols gliding back across the darkening sky, their rotors no longer a sound that made people tense, but something that made them look up with quiet relief.
Lights came on across the settlement.
Voices softened.
Doors closed.
People rested.
Because for the first time in a long time, they could.
The next morning came with that same steady rhythm.
Not rushed.
Not frantic.
But purposeful.
The Freemasons HQ was already awake by the time the sun climbed above the rooftops.
Inside, the corridors were alive with quiet motion from messengers carrying reports, clerks updating logs, officers moving between briefing rooms.
And at the center of it all, in his office on the upper floor, Sico sat behind his desk.
The room was simple.
Clean.
Functional.
A large window behind him that overlooked Sanctuary with the farms stretching out to the side, the hangars beyond, the main road that cut through the settlement.
The desk in front of him held a small stack of reports with logistics updates from Magnolia, patrol summaries from Preston, flight rotations from Callahan, a short agricultural yield note from Jenny.
He had already read most of them.
Now he was going through them again.
Cross-checking.
Looking for patterns.
Looking for anything that didn't align.
Because stability wasn't something you built once and left alone.
It was something you maintained.
Constantly.
He had just set one of the pages aside when the door opened.
Not knocked.
Opened.
Hard.
Preston stepped in.
Fast.
Too fast.
The kind of movement that immediately told Sico something was wrong.
Preston rarely lost his composure.
He moved quickly when needed, but he didn't burst.
Now he had.
"Sico."
His voice carried urgency.
Tension.
Sico didn't rise immediately.
He didn't snap into panic.
Instead, he lifted his gaze calmly and set the paper down.
"Close the door," he said.
Preston did.
The door shut behind him with a solid click.
Sico leaned back slightly in his chair, folding his hands loosely on the desk.
"Take a breath," he said.
Preston's jaw tightened slightly.
He did.
In.
Out.
Then he stepped forward.
"We have a situation," he said.
Sico's eyes remained steady.
"What kind of situation?" he asked.
Preston's answer came directly.
"One of the settlements under our territory, Nicola."
Sico's brow shifted slightly.
Nicola.
He knew the name.
A new mid-sized settlement they had built a few weeks back. Not a major hub like Sanctuary, not as small as some of the outer farms, somewhere in between.
Stable.
Or at least it had been.
"What about it?" Sico asked.
Preston's next words landed heavy.
"They've rebelled."
Silence filled the office for a single second.
Sico didn't speak immediately.
Didn't react outwardly.
But something inside him shifted.
Because this was not external threat.
This was internal fracture.
"Explain," he said.
Preston stepped closer to the desk.
"They've organized militia forces," he said. "About one hundred and fifty fighters."
Sico's eyes narrowed slightly.
"One hundred and fifty," he repeated.
Preston nodded once.
"And they're not lightly armed," he continued. "They've got ten Growlers, six Humvees, fifteen trucks… and four Sentinel tanks."
The numbers hung in the air.
Heavy.
Because that wasn't a small uprising.
That was organized.
Planned.
Equipped.
Sico leaned back a fraction more in his chair.
For the first time since Preston had walked in, there was a clear reaction in his expression.
Shock.
Not panic.
But real surprise.
"This is sudden," he said quietly.
Preston nodded.
"It is," he replied. "No warning signs that we caught beforehand. No early reports of unrest."
Sico's mind was already moving.
Running through timelines.
Supply chains.
Command structures.
"How did they assemble that level of equipment without detection?" he asked.
Preston shook his head slightly.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," he said. "Some of the equipment may have been stockpiled from before they joined us. Some of the vehicles may have been redirected from our patrol forces."
Sico's fingers tapped lightly once on the desk.
"Leadership," he said. "Who is organizing this?"
Preston's jaw tightened again.
"A man named Kevin," he said.
Sico's gaze sharpened.
"Kevin," he repeated.
"Leader of the rebels," Preston confirmed. "He's the one rallying them."
Sico's eyes stayed on Preston.
"What does he want?" he asked.
Preston didn't hesitate.
"He wants to take over half of Freemasons territory," he said. "Split it. Build his own force. His own command."
The room fell quiet again.
Not empty quiet.
Heavy quiet.
The kind that followed a line being drawn.
Sico leaned back fully now, resting against the back of his chair, his eyes moving away from Preston for a moment as he looked past him, out through the window behind him at Sanctuary.
The farms.
The people.
The system they had built.
Everything they had been working to stabilize.
And now.
This.
An internal fracture.
He spoke again, quieter this time.
"Has he made any moves yet?" he asked.
Preston shook his head.
"Not beyond consolidating forces in Nicola," he said. "But he's broadcasting his intent. Word is spreading. Some outer settlements are nervous."
Sico nodded once.
"They should be," he said.
He leaned forward again, resting his forearms lightly on the desk.
"When did we get this information?" he asked.
"Within the last hour," Preston replied. "One of our patrol units picked up unusual movement near Nicola's perimeter. They approached carefully, made contact with one of our informants inside. That's when we got the full picture."
Sico nodded again.
"Current position of their forces?" he asked.
"Concentrated within Nicola and the surrounding fields," Preston said. "They've set up defensive positions on the main approach roads. Looks like they're expecting us to respond."
Sico's eyes hardened slightly.
"They're preparing for confrontation," he said.
"Yes," Preston replied.
Another moment of silence passed.
But this time it wasn't shock.
It was calculation.
Sico's mind was already shifting from reaction to response.
"What's the morale of their people?" he asked.
Preston hesitated slightly.
"Mixed," he said. "Some of them are fully behind Kevin. Others… it's unclear. Some may have been pressured. Some may be unsure."
Sico nodded slowly.
That mattered.
Because this wasn't just a military problem.
This was political.
Social.
Psychological.
"Any civilians still inside?" he asked.
"Yes," Preston said. "Families. Workers. Not all of them part of the militia."
Sico's jaw tightened a fraction.
So.
Not a clean battlefield.
Never was.
He sat back again, exhaling slowly.
"Alright," he said.
His voice was calm again.
Controlled.
The shock had passed.
Now there was only decision.
"We don't rush in blind," he said. "We don't escalate without understanding."
Preston nodded.
"Agreed," he said.
Sico looked at him directly.
"I want full reconnaissance," he said. "Air and ground. I want to know exact positions of their vehicles, their defensive lines, their supply points."
Preston nodded once.
"I'll get teams moving," he said.
Sico held up a hand slightly.
"Careful approach," he added. "We don't provoke engagement unless necessary."
Preston gave a firm nod.
"Understood."
Sico continued.
"Callahan needs to be briefed immediately," he said. "I want vertibirds on overwatch at a safe distance. No aggressive posture yet. Observation only."
"I'll inform him," Preston said.
"Magnolia as well," Sico added. "We need to prepare for potential extended operation from fuel, supplies, medical."
Preston nodded again.
"I'll get her in here," he said.
Sico leaned back once more.
"And I want everything we have on this Kevin," he said. "Background. History. How he came into leadership in Nicola. Who supports him."
Preston's expression hardened slightly.
"I'll pull the records," he said.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Because they both understood what this meant.
Not just a rebel group.
A challenge.
To the structure they had built.
To the idea of unified protection.
To the stability of the Commonwealth they were trying to create.
Sico's voice softened slightly.
"We built this so people wouldn't have to live in fear," he said. "Not so they could turn on each other."
Preston's expression matched that sentiment.
"Some people don't trust anything that looks like structure," he said quietly. "Even when it's built to protect them."
Sico nodded slowly.
"Then we show them what it actually is," he said.
He stood.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The chair behind him shifted back slightly.
"This doesn't become a war unless they force it to," he said. "We will try to resolve this without bloodshed."
Preston nodded.
"And if they don't stand down?" he asked.
Sico's eyes met his.
Then his answer came.
Calm.
Steady.
Firm.
"Then we protect our people," he said.
The weight of that statement settled between them.
Not as a threat.
As a responsibility.
Sico stepped around the desk.
"Bring Sarah and Callahan," he said. "We'll plan the response."
Preston gave a sharp nod.
"I'm on it," he said, already turning toward the door.
He opened it.
Paused just for a fraction of a second.
Then looked back.
"We'll handle this," he said.
Sico gave a small nod.
"Yes," he replied. "We will."
Preston left.
The door closed behind him.
Sico stood there in the quiet of his office for a moment.
Sico stood there in the quiet of his office for a moment.
The kind of quiet that wasn't peaceful.
The kind that carried weight.
Outside the window, Sanctuary still moved in its steady rhythm from people walking the main road, a pair of Growlers passing by on patrol, a vertibird lifting slowly in the distance. Life. Stability. The thing they had built.
And now something had tried to break away from it.
He let out a slow breath.
Then he turned, walked back to his desk, and reached for the radio.
"Command room," he said into the mic, voice even. "One hour."
A pause.
Then a reply came back.
"Understood. We'll have everyone assembled."
He set the mic down.
And the countdown began.
An hour later, the command room was no longer quiet.
It was alive.
Maps had been updated again with Nicola now marked in bold red, its surrounding roads, terrain, and nearby settlements highlighted in layered rings of significance. Pins marked reported militia positions. Arrows indicated possible movement paths. A separate board on the wall now displayed rapid deployment logistics.
Around the table stood the people who formed the core of what the Freemasons had become.
Preston, steady and grounded as always.
Sarah, already with multiple sheets laid out in front of her, pen ready, mind racing ahead of the room.
Callahan, calm, alert, the air wing's responsibility sitting firmly on his shoulders.
Robert, quiet but sharp, eyes scanning the map with a soldier's instinct.
MacCready, leaning slightly against the table edge, arms folded, expression focused, that familiar half-relaxed stance hiding a mind that never stopped calculating angles and risks.
Magnolia, composed, ledger in hand even now, because war still needed numbers.
And Piper, notepad tucked under her arm, eyes moving across the room, already thinking about how the truth of what was happening would be told to the people.
Sico stood at the head of the table.
He didn't speak immediately.
He looked at each of them.
One by one.
Because this was the core.
This was who he trusted when things became difficult.
Then he spoke.
"You've all been briefed on the situation in Nicola," he said.
There were nods around the table.
Some subtle.
Some firm.
Sico continued.
"This is not an external threat," he said. "This is an internal rebellion. Organized. Armed. Led by a man named Kevin."
He let that name sit in the air.
"He is attempting to fracture our territory and establish his own command structure," Sico said. "We will not allow that to happen."
Preston spoke first.
"Our scouts are already moving," he said. "We've got eyes on the outer perimeter, but we need deeper intel inside Nicola itself."
Sico nodded.
"That's where we begin," he said.
He turned his gaze toward Robert and MacCready.
"Robert. MacCready."
Both men straightened slightly.
Sico gestured toward the map.
"I want fifty commandos deployed with Preston's scout teams," he said. "Your job is to infiltrate Nicola. Quietly. No engagement unless absolutely necessary."
Robert nodded once.
"Understood," he said.
MacCready gave a small, sharp grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Ghost in and ghost out," he said. "My kind of job."
Sico met his gaze.
"This isn't a raid," he said calmly. "This is reconnaissance and intelligence. I want full layout of their positions, chain of command, supply points, weak spots, and confirmation of civilian zones."
MacCready's expression shifted to full seriousness.
"Got it," he said.
Robert added, "We'll move in teams. Blend with the settlement. No signs we're there."
Sico gave a small nod.
"Good."
He shifted his attention to Callahan.
"Callahan."
Callahan straightened slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"I want five vertibirds in the air within the next hour," Sico said. "You will not engage. You will observe."
Callahan nodded.
"High altitude passes," he said. "Wide orbit patterns. We'll map their vehicle placements, defensive lines, and any movement patterns."
Sico nodded.
"Maintain distance," he added. "We don't want to provoke them prematurely."
"Yes, sir," Callahan said. "I'll assign veteran crews."
Sico turned toward Preston and Sarah.
"Preston. Sarah."
They both looked up.
"Begin preparing ground forces," Sico said. "We move as a unified unit. Combined arms. The structure we established yesterday applies here."
Preston's jaw set with quiet determination.
"We'll be ready," he said.
Sarah was already writing.
"I'll allocate 4 units into one per patrol structure," she said. "Which mean sixteen Growlers, eight Humvees, eight trucks, four Sentinel tank, and eight vertibirds. We'll scale that up into a full operational column."
Sico nodded.
"Make sure every unit leader is briefed on combined operations," he said. "Ground-air coordination must be flawless."
"It will be," Sarah replied.
Sico then turned to Magnolia.
"Magnolia."
She lifted her gaze from her ledger.
"Already working on supply projections," she said before he could even ask.
A faint hint of a smile touched Sico's expression.
"Good," he said. "I want full operational supply prepared from fuel, ammunition, medical, rations."
Magnolia nodded.
"You'll have it," she said. "If we're moving that kind of force, we'll need forward supply trucks and reserve stock behind them."
"Arrange it," Sico said.
She tapped her pen once against the ledger.
"It'll be ready," she said.
Then Sico's gaze shifted to Piper.
"Piper."
She straightened, her expression already serious.
"Yes?"
"I need you to broadcast this," he said. "The truth. No panic. No exaggeration."
Piper nodded slowly.
"You want people informed," she said.
"Yes," Sico replied. "Tell them there has been a sudden rebellion in Nicola. Tell them we are preparing our forces to quell it. Make it clear that we are acting to protect all settlements."
Piper's jaw tightened slightly.
"And that civilians inside Nicola will be protected?" she asked.
"Yes," Sico said. "Make that clear."
She gave a firm nod.
"I'll get the message out," she said.
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Not because there was nothing left to say.
But because everything important had been said.
Sico looked around the table again.
"This will move quickly," he said. "We begin reconnaissance immediately. We begin full deployment preparations now."
He paused for just a fraction of a second.
"Tomorrow afternoon," he continued, "we march."
The words landed with weight.
Because this was it.
This was the first real test of everything they had built.
Preston exhaled slowly.
"We'll be ready," he said again.
Callahan nodded.
"The birds will be in position."
Sarah added, "Supply and troop movements will be coordinated. No delays."
Robert said simply, "Commandos will be in place by nightfall."
MacCready gave a short nod.
"They won't see us coming."
Magnolia closed her ledger with a soft but firm sound.
"You'll have everything you need."
Piper looked at each of them.
"I'll make sure people understand why this is happening," she said.
Sico listened to each of them.
Then he nodded once.
"Good."
He placed both hands lightly on the edge of the table.
"We do this clean," he said. "We do this fast. And we do this with control."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"We are not here to conquer," he said. "We are here to restore order and protect our people."
No one in the room disagreed.
Because they all understood what was at stake.
Sico straightened.
"Move."
And just like that, the room came alive.
Chairs shifted.
Papers gathered.
Boots moved.
Each person turning toward their responsibility.
Preston and Sarah were already speaking in low, rapid tones as they walked out together, discussing unit assignments and mobilization timing.
Callahan was on his radio before he even reached the door, already issuing flight preparation orders.
Robert and MacCready exchanged a quick, wordless nod before heading out to gather their commandos.
Magnolia moved with purpose toward the logistics office, already calling out instructions to clerks.
Piper paused for just a moment near the doorway, looking back at Sico once.
Then she gave a small nod.
And left to tell the Commonwealth what was coming.
Within minutes, the command room was empty again.
But this time, the silence didn't feel heavy.
It felt focused.
Directed.
Because now everything was in motion.
Sico remained standing at the head of the table for a few seconds longer.
Looking down at the map.
At Nicola.
At the red lines drawn around it.
Then he reached forward and placed one finger on the edge of that red-marked area.
And his voice, though quiet, carried certainty.
"We will fix this," he said.
Then he turned.
And walked out of the room to lead the operation that would decide whether what they had built would hold or fracture.
There was nothing left to say there.
Everything had already been set in motion.
So he stepped out into the corridor, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, and walked back into the living heart of Sanctuary where the plan they had just formed would begin to turn into reality.
And reality, unlike plans, was loud.
The rest of that day moved like a current pulling everything forward.
Word spread quickly that not in panic, not in chaos, but in that steady, controlled way that Sanctuary had learned over time. Messengers moved between buildings. Unit leaders were called in and briefed. The hangars filled with movement as ground crews checked engines, tightened bolts, refueled tanks.
Above it all, the first of Callahan's five reconnaissance vertibirds lifted into the sky one by one, their rotors beating the air in that familiar rhythm. But this time they didn't fly their usual patrol routes. They angled outward, toward Nicola.
Watching.
Mapping.
Learning.
Inside the barracks, Preston stood in front of a row of unit leaders, his voice calm and firm as he explained the situation.
"This isn't a raid," he told them. "We're not charging in blind. We move with coordination. We move with support. We move with control."
Sarah stood beside him, handing out printed route maps, radio frequencies, and engagement protocols.
"Each unit will operate in combined structure," she said. "Ground and air together. No one moves outside communication range. No one breaks formation unless ordered."
The soldiers listened.
Not because they were afraid.
But because they understood what this was.
This was different.
This wasn't raiders.
This wasn't an outside threat.
This was one of their own settlements.
And that made everything more complicated.
In the logistics wing, Magnolia had taken over an entire wall with ledgers, charts, and supply tables.
Crates were already being packed from ammunition boxes stacked neatly, medical kits checked and rechecked, fuel drums lined up and labeled. Workers moved back and forth carrying inventory lists, confirming numbers, adjusting loads.
Magnolia stood in the middle of it all like the quiet center of a storm, her pen moving quickly across a ledger as she cross-referenced outgoing supply with reserve stock.
"We're not running dry," she said to one of the clerks. "Not now. Not during this."
The clerk nodded, scribbling notes.
"We'll stage the first wave here," Magnolia continued, tapping a location on a map. "Secondary reserve will remain in Sanctuary. If this extends longer than expected, we'll rotate supply lines every two days."
Everything calculated.
Everything measured.
Because wars weren't just won on the battlefield.
They were sustained by numbers.
Out on the edge of the motor pool, Robert and MacCready were already moving with their fifty commandos.
Three trucks.
Two Humvees.
Engines idling low.
The commandos loaded in with quiet efficiency with gear checked, weapons secured, no unnecessary noise.
MacCready walked along the side of the first truck, giving a few last-minute reminders.
"Keep your heads down when we get close," he said. "We're not announcing ourselves. We're shadows until we say otherwise."
One of the commandos gave a nod.
"Understood."
Robert checked a map once more, then climbed into the lead vehicle.
MacCready hopped into the passenger seat beside him.
"You think they'll see us coming?" MacCready asked lightly.
Robert shook his head once.
"Not if we do this right."
MacCready smirked faintly.
"Good answer."
The convoy rolled out of Sanctuary shortly after, passing through the main gate under the watchful eyes of guards who understood the weight of that departure.
No cheers.
No dramatic sendoff.
Just a few quiet nods.
Because this wasn't a parade.
This was work.
Serious work.
That evening, Sanctuary felt different.
Not tense.
But aware.
People knew something was happening.
They could see the increased movement, the extra patrols, the vertibirds flying routes that stretched farther than usual.
And then, as the sun dipped lower and the sky shifted into deep orange and then blue, the radios across Sanctuary crackled to life.
Piper's voice came through.
Clear.
Steady.
Carrying that familiar tone that always managed to sound both honest and reassuring at the same time.
"This is Piper Wright, broadcasting from Freemasons Radio."
People paused when they heard her.
At the farms.
In the workshops.
At the guard posts.
Inside homes.
Because when Piper spoke like that, it meant something important was being said.
"Today," she continued, "we have an update for all settlements under Freemason protection."
She didn't rush.
She didn't dramatize.
She just spoke.
"There has been a sudden rebellion in one of our settlements, Nicola. A group led by an individual named Kevin has declared their intent to separate from Freemason command and establish their own control over parts of the territory."
A few people listening exchanged glances.
Quiet murmurs.
But Piper's voice stayed steady.
"The Freemasons are aware of the situation. Leadership has already begun coordinated response measures."
A pause.
Then, with clarity:
"Our forces are preparing to move to Nicola to quell the rebellion and restore stability. This operation is being conducted with the safety of civilians as a top priority."
That line mattered.
And Piper knew it.
"To everyone listening," she added, "there is no cause for panic. Patrol coverage remains active. Sanctuary remains secure. Trade routes remain open."
Her tone softened slightly.
"This is what the Freemasons are here for. To protect the Commonwealth. To maintain stability. To ensure that no one is left to face threats alone."
A brief silence.
Then her voice returned, firm and confident.
"We will bring this situation under control. And we will do it together."
The broadcast ended.
And Sanctuary didn't erupt into fear.
It didn't collapse into chaos.
It absorbed the information.
Because people trusted that voice.
And they trusted what had been built.
The next day came with motion.
From early morning, the settlement was alive with preparation.
Preston and Sarah moved from unit to unit, checking readiness, confirming assignments, adjusting final details.
"Radio check?" Sarah asked one of the unit leaders.
"Clear on primary and secondary," he replied.
"Good," she said. "Maintain that."
Preston walked alongside a line of Growlers, speaking quietly with the drivers, checking their readiness.
"You've got air cover the whole way," he reminded them. "Stay in formation. Don't get ahead of your support."
They nodded.
Understood.
In the sky, Callahan's recon teams returned one by one with updated reports.
"Defensive positions confirmed on north and east approach," one pilot reported.
"Vehicle concentration near central square," said another.
Callahan listened to each report, mapping the information in his mind, refining the plan.
"They're expecting us," he said quietly to himself.
Then he picked up his radio.
"Flight control," he said. "Prepare operational rotation for tomorrow afternoon. Full deployment."
"Copy that."
On the road leading toward Nicola, Robert and MacCready's convoy slowed as they approached the outskirts.
The terrain shifted with less structured, more open fields, broken structures, patches of tree cover.
They didn't drive straight in.
They stopped a few kilometers out.
Preston's scout team was already waiting.
A small group, camouflaged, blending into the terrain.
One of the scouts approached the lead Humvee as Robert stepped out.
"You're on time," the scout said quietly.
Robert nodded.
"Status?"
The scout glanced back toward Nicola.
"They've fortified the main roads," he said. "Watchtowers set up. Patrols rotating every hour. Civilians still inside, mostly in the inner sector."
MacCready stepped out as well, resting his arm on the Humvee roof.
"Any weak points?" he asked.
The scout nodded slightly.
"Southwest edge," he said. "Less coverage. Probably because of the terrain. Harder to move vehicles through."
MacCready exchanged a look with Robert.
"That's our door," MacCready said.
Robert nodded.
"We move in small teams," he said. "No large movements. We blend."
The scout gestured toward the tree line.
"We've marked safe paths," he said. "Follow us."
And just like that, the infiltration began.
Quiet.
Careful.
Fifty commandos disappearing into the edges of Nicola like shadows.
Back in Sanctuary, Magnolia oversaw the final stages of supply loading.
"Check those fuel drums again," she told one of the workers. "I want every seal tight."
The worker nodded.
"Medical crates?" she asked another.
"All stocked," came the reply.
Magnolia took a moment to look over the entire loading area.
Crates.
Vehicles.
People moving with purpose.
Then she made a final note in her ledger.
Everything ready.
By midday, Sanctuary felt like a machine fully wound and ready.
Not frantic.
Not chaotic.
But prepared.
The air itself seemed to carry a kind of quiet anticipation.
Because everyone knew what was coming next.
Tomorrow afternoon.
They would move.
And as the sun began to set once more over Sanctuary, Sico stood again at the edge of the main road, looking out over the settlement.
______________________________________________
• 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:-