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Then Sico and Nick left the Central Bureau and let Magnolia handle the team first, as they head to find Piper that running around somewhere in Sanctuary.
Sico and Nick made their way out of the Central Bureau, leaving Magnolia to oversee the final preparations. The night air was crisp, and the lanterns hanging around Sanctuary flickered softly against the encroaching darkness.
"Any idea where Piper actually is?" Nick asked as they weaved through the bustling streets of Sanctuary.
Sico glanced around, watching as people hurried to wrap up their work for the night. "If I had to guess? She's probably poking her nose into something she shouldn't be."
Nick smirked. "Sounds about right. Let's start by checking the factories."
The two moved toward the industrial district, where several repurposed pre-war buildings had been turned into manufacturing hubs for weapons, ammunition, and general supplies.
As they neared one of the larger factories, they spotted Piper, her brown trench coat standing out against the dimly lit surroundings. She was darting between workers, her worn-out notepad in hand, rapidly scribbling as she tried to keep up with their movements.
"Come on, just a quick word!" she called out to a man hauling a crate of gun parts. "How's the workflow been for you guys? Are the pays enough? Are yours conditions better? Worse? The people need to know!"
The worker grunted, barely sparing her a glance. "Lady, I got a job to do."
Undeterred, Piper turned to another worker, a woman who was welding parts together. "What about you? Got a minute to talk about—"
The woman cut her off with a shake of her head. "Look, I appreciate what you do, but I ain't got time for interviews. We're on a tight schedule here."
Piper let out an exaggerated sigh and muttered under her breath, "Ugh, tough crowd." She tucked her pencil behind her ear, clearly debating her next move, when Sico and Nick finally approached.
"Hard time getting people to talk?" Sico asked, amusement in his voice.
Piper spun around, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, thank God. Someone who actually will talk to me. You guys have no idea how hard it is to get workers to slow down for even a second. And you, Detective Valentine, you owe me an interview, by the way. I haven't forgotten."
Nick chuckled. "You're relentless, you know that?"
"That's literally my job," Piper shot back, crossing her arms. "But something tells me you didn't come all the way down here just to rescue me from my failed journalism attempts."
Sico nodded. "We need your help with something big, Piper. We're rolling out a tax system for all the settlements under Minutemen protection, and we need you to be the one to break the news."
Piper's playful smirk faded slightly. "Taxes, huh? Well, I can already hear the pitchforks being sharpened. Lay it on me."
Sico took a breath. "Every person living in Sanctuary will have to pay ten caps. For those living outside Sanctuary but still within Minutemen territory, it'll be five caps. It's not just about money—we need these caps to keep things running. We're talking about rebuilding infrastructure, making sure supply lines stay open, paying for ammunition, fortifications, and medicine. People want protection, but protection isn't free."
Piper frowned, tapping her fingers against her notebook. "You're not wrong. But convincing people to willingly part with their caps? That's a whole different beast. People hate taxes, Sico."
Nick sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it."
"That's why we're coming to you," Sico said. "You've got a way of explaining things that makes people listen. If this message comes from you, through Radio Freedom, it'll go down a lot smoother."
Piper pursed her lips, clearly mulling it over. "Alright," she said after a moment. "I can work with this, but we need to make sure the message is crystal clear. We need to emphasize that this isn't some raider-style shakedown. This is about keeping people safe. The moment people think this is just another power-hungry group demanding tribute, we're screwed."
Sico nodded. "That's exactly it. We need them to understand that this isn't extortion—it's an investment in their own security. The stronger the Minutemen are, the safer their homes are."
Piper scribbled a few notes before looking back up. "Alright. I'll draft up a script and broadcast it first thing in the morning. But I'll need details. What exactly is this tax covering? What's the breakdown?"
"Maintenance and repair costs for settlements, wages for our engineers, blacksmiths, and medical personnel," Sico listed. "We also need to keep ammo stockpiled, weapons in good condition, and patrols funded."
Piper chewed on the end of her pencil. "Okay, I can spin this, but we also need a human angle. People don't care about logistics. They care about people. Give me something real. A story."
Sico thought for a moment before saying, "Talk about what happen to Quincy and the fall of Minutemen there, before we start to rebuild and retake Quincy."
Piper blinked. "Quincy?"
"Yeah," Sico said. "Tell them what happens there and how the Minutemen fell that cost the town massacre. Tell them about how the people there were massacred because no one was there to protect them. We're making damn sure that never happens again."
Piper's expression softened. "That'll hit home," she admitted. "People still talk about Quincy like it was yesterday even though you guys has take it back and rebuild it again. Alright, Sico. You got yourself a deal. I'll get this message out, and I'll make sure people understand why this tax matters."
Sico let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Piper. This means a lot."
She gave him a playful smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make a habit of making me do your dirty work, alright?"
Nick chuckled. "Too late for that."
Piper laughed, then flipped her notepad closed. "Alright, I've got work to do. I'll check in with Radio Freedom and make sure we get this out before the census teams roll in. That way, people will have time to process it before they get someone knocking on their door asking for caps."
Sico nodded. "That's the plan."
Piper tilted her head. "Alright, General. You'd better buy me a drink for this."
Sico smirked. "After this all settles down? You've got it."
The next morning, Sico stood just outside the Central Bureau, arms crossed, watching as Nick barked out orders to the assembled census teams. The detective's voice carried easily over the morning bustle, his synthetic features set in an expression of cool authority.
"All right, listen up!" Nick called, pacing in front of the gathered men and women. "You're not just walking into settlements and demanding caps. This ain't some raider toll. You're civil servants now—representatives of the Minutemen, and that means you act like it. Respect, patience, and clarity, got it?"
A murmur of assent rolled through the crowd, though a few uneasy faces still lingered.
Nick continued, "When you approach a settlement, you don't barge in like you own the place. Announce yourselves at the entrance, explain who you are and why you're there. Keep your weapons holstered unless you run into trouble. The last thing we need is people thinking we're here to strong-arm 'em."
Sico noted the way some of the less-experienced census workers shifted on their feet. The Minutemen had plenty of good people, but not all of them were used to handling delicate matters like this. That's why Nick was the right person to lead this—he understood people, even if half of him was made of metal.
Nick's golden eyes flicked toward the Commandos standing behind the teams. These were the real muscle—the ones who'd step in if things went south. They were clad in modified combat armor, their rifles slung across their backs, and their gazes sharp.
"The Commandos are here for support," Nick continued, gesturing to them. "They're not enforcers, so don't treat 'em like personal bodyguards. But if things get hairy, they'll step in. Otherwise, it's up to you to keep this civil."
Sico glanced over at Magnolia, who was directing a group of mechanics and logistics personnel as they prepped the Humvees and trucks for transport. The vehicles were lined up in a row, their reinforced bodies gleaming in the early morning light.
He made his way over to her. "How's it looking?"
Magnolia glanced up from her clipboard. "We've got six trucks loaded with supplies, two for each major route. The Humvees will carry the census teams and their escorts. Everything's fueled and ready."
Sico nodded. "Good. We need this to go as smoothly as possible."
Magnolia smirked. "Smooth? In the Commonwealth? You're optimistic."
Sico chuckled. "Hey, a guy can dream."
With the logistics squared away, there was one last thing left to do. He needed to check on Piper.
He left the staging area and made his way to the Radio Freedom station, where Piper was holed up in the small broadcasting room. The building wasn't much—just an old house converted into a communications hub—but the signal from here reached nearly every settlement under Minutemen protection.
Inside, Piper was hunched over a desk, scribbling notes while one of the radio techs adjusted the equipment. She looked up as Sico entered, giving him a wry smile.
"Ah, the man of the hour," she said. "Here to make sure I don't start a rebellion by accident?"
Sico smirked, leaning against the doorway. "Something like that. You ready?"
Piper stretched, cracking her neck. "As I'll ever be. Just finished polishing the script. Figured I'd keep it simple—tell 'em why we're doing this, what the caps are for, and why they don't want to end up like Quincy."
Sico nodded. "That's the angle we need. You're sure you can sell it?"
Piper grinned. "Sico, please. I've convinced people to charge into a super mutant stronghold with nothing but a pipe pistol and a dream. This? This is easy."
Sico chuckled. "Alright, let's hear it."
Piper turned toward the microphone, flipping a few switches before signaling to the tech that she was ready to go live.
The speakers crackled to life, and Piper's voice—steady, confident—echoed across the Commonwealth.
"Good morning, Commonwealth. This is Piper Wright, bringing you the news you need to hear."
"Now, I know what you're thinking—'Piper, what do the Minutemen want now?' And I'll be honest with you—they need your help. Not with fighting, not with supplies, but with something even more important: building a future."
"If you're living in a Minutemen-protected settlement, you're about to see some folks coming around asking for caps. Not raiders, not mercs—actual Minutemen, keeping track of who's living where and making sure every settlement has what it needs to survive."
"I know, I know—'Taxes? In the Commonwealth? You've gotta be kidding me.' But hear me out. Ten caps if you're living in Sanctuary, five caps if you're anywhere else under Minutemen protection. That's it. Less than what most of you spend on a night's worth of drinks at the Dugout Inn."
"And what do you get for it? You get protection. You get safe roads. You get patrols keeping raiders and super mutants off your backs. You get doctors who can actually treat your wounds, engineers who can fix your water pumps, and blacksmiths who keep your weapons in working order."
"This isn't a shakedown. It's not a power grab. This is how we stop the Commonwealth from turning into another Quincy. You all remember what happened there. The Minutemen failed because they weren't strong enough to stop it and fall apart. Then after a strong effort of the remaining Minutemen, they rebuild and grow stronger each time to make sure the Quincy incident never happen again. So now with this taxes that we could use to pay our troops and other stuff, we're making sure that never ever happens again."
"So when the census takers come knocking, don't turn them away. Don't see this as just another hand reaching into your pockets. See it for what it is—a step toward something better. A Commonwealth that actually works."
"This is Piper Wright, signing off."
The radio clicked off, and the silence that followed felt heavy. Sico let out a slow breath. That was exactly what they needed.
Piper turned in her chair, raising an eyebrow. "Well? What do you think?"
Sico grinned. "I think you just made our jobs a hell of a lot easier."
Nick's voice crackled over the walkie talkie in Sico's hand. "I gotta admit, kid—she's good. Teams are rolling out now. Let's just hope folks are listening."
Sico looked at Piper. "You coming with us, or are you staying here?"
Piper smirked. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Let's go see how the Commonwealth reacts to its first tax day."
Then Sico and Piper left to watch the census teams rolled out, as their Humvees kicking up trails of dust along the cracked Commonwealth roads, Sico stood alongside Piper and Magnolia, watching them disappear into the horizon. Nick had taken the lead, riding shotgun in the first vehicle, his synthetic hand resting idly on the window frame as he spoke into his radio, coordinating the different teams. The Minutemen Commandos followed closely behind, their presence a silent promise that, should anything go south, they were ready.
Piper adjusted her worn-out newsboy cap, arms crossed as she surveyed the scene with an amused glint in her eyes. "Gotta say, it's a bit surreal seeing this kind of organization out here. A couple of years ago, the only people traveling in groups this big were either raiders or Brotherhood patrols. Now it's the Minutemen, and they're actually doing something good."
Magnolia let out a small chuckle, tucking her clipboard under one arm. "Yeah, well, let's see how long the goodwill lasts once people start realizing we're actually collecting those caps. Folks in the Commonwealth don't take too kindly to change, even when it's for their own damn good."
Sico nodded, watching as the dust finally settled. "We'll know soon enough."
—
Across the Commonwealth, the reaction to Piper's broadcast varied wildly.
In Sanctuary Hills, the heart of the Minutemen's operations, the response was more measured. People had seen firsthand what the Minutemen could do. Preston Garvey had spent months rebuilding trust, and Sico himself had led efforts to reinforce the settlement against the constant threats of the Wasteland. While there was a bit of grumbling—no one liked giving up caps, even a small amount—most people seemed willing to comply.
An older man, leaning against a rebuilt fence near the entrance, shook his head with a tired sigh. "Never thought I'd see the day we had taxes again. But hell, if it means we don't end up like Quincy incident, I'll pay it."
"Yeah," a woman standing nearby agreed, adjusting the strap on her rifle. "I mean, twn caps ain't much, right? And if it keeps those damn super mutants from smashing my Brahmin pen again, it's worth it."
At the marketplace, traders were already factoring the tax into their prices. Carla, the wandering merchant, scoffed when she overheard a few settlers griping about it. "You lot are lucky, y'know that? Back before the war, people paid taxes every damn day , and the government wasn't half as useful as the Minutemen are now that I know from a ghoul friend. At least you're actually getting something for it."
—
Further south, in smaller, more isolated settlements like Tenpines Bluff and Oberland Station, things were more tense. People who had spent their whole lives barely scraping by weren't thrilled at the idea of handing over caps—even if the Minutemen had been the ones keeping them safe.
At Tenpines Bluff, an old scavenger crossed his arms, scowling at the small radio propped up against a wooden crate. "Sounds an awful lot like extortion to me. Pay up or bad things happen? That's what raiders say."
A younger settler, rifle slung across his back, shook his head. "No, raiders take everything. They don't come back and fix your damn water pumps after a pipe bursts. Look, I don't like it either, but think about how many times the Minutemen have helped us. We ain't alone out here anymore. That's gotta be worth something."
Even still, uncertainty lingered. Some would pay without complaint, others would need convincing.
—
Back at the Central Bureau, Sico, Piper, and Magnolia had returned to their main command post, where a large map of the Commonwealth was spread out on the table. Colored pins marked the settlements under Minutemen protection, and several radio operators were already fielding incoming messages. Reports trickled in from different regions—some positive, some concerning.
Nick's voice came through the radio. "We got some pushback at Sunshine Tidings. Some folks ain't happy, but no one's pulling guns yet. We'll handle it."
Piper, feet propped up on the edge of the table, smirked. "Told you I could sell it."
Sico leaned over the map, rubbing his jaw in thought. "Yeah, but selling it was just the first step. Now we see who's actually willing to buy in."
The Commonwealth had heard them. Now it was time to see who was ready to be part of something bigger, and hope there no fighting because of this.
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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:-