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The lab, once still with loss and quiet despair, seemed to pulse again with purpose. Vials clinked, notes rustled, machinery hummed steadily, and the presence of possibility stretched through every corner of the room. Failure had come and gone, leaving behind lessons, recalibrations, and the unbroken thread of determination.
The week passed in that strange mixture of speed and slowness that only life in Sanctuary could create as days layered with work, noise, and movement, but framed by the quiet knowledge that something enormous was taking shape behind the scenes.
For Sico, the days blurred together in a rhythm he had learned to live with: responsibility in the morning, duty in the afternoon, silence in the evening when he finally sat alone, letting the weight of leadership settle in his bones.
Seven days.
Seven days since the failed trial.
Seven days since he had left Virgil alone in his lab, surrounded by charts, vials, and the echo of a dead mutant's final breath.
Seven days since he had reminded him that reminded himself, as failure was not the end, but the beginning of refinement.
Yet despite the scientific chaos happening under the surface of the Republic, life outside continued to expand, grow, breathe with its own energy.
And Sico, as always, stood at the center of it all.
The week began with paperwork.
Endless paperwork.
Sico had never hated anything more than he hated the stack of forms Magnolia dropped on his desk every morning — requisition forms, patrol reports, ration distribution logs, construction budgets, supply manifests, trade agreements, shift rotations, and updates from the agricultural district.
He always signed them in the same order: top to bottom, black ink, precise letters that betrayed none of the exhaustion in his hand.
The Freemasons HQ office felt smaller than usual that week. Too many maps pinned on the walls, too many folders waiting for signatures. The smell of dust and old ink clung to everything, an odor he associated with responsibility, weight, duty.
Every time he leaned back in his chair and glanced out the office window, Sanctuary seemed to stretch wider than before.
Which it was.
When the paperwork became too suffocating, Sico retreated to the training yard.
From the catwalk above the sparring rings, he would lean forward against the metal railing, arms crossed, silent but present, watching his soldiers push themselves harder each day.
Sarah had doubled the drills.
Preston had increased the patrol simulations.
The sergeants had added new melee routines, new firearm techniques, new defensive formations for when the Brotherhood eventually made their move.
The rhythmic thud of boots hitting the packed dirt, the sharp crack of rifles firing at the target range, the guttural grunts during hand to hand sparring as all of it created a kind of music. A harsh, disciplined symphony.
Some soldiers practiced in pairs, others in groups. Sweat clung to their brows, dust stuck to their uniforms, and every one of them carried the same quiet intensity.
They didn't just train to train.
They trained because they knew something was coming.
Something big.
Something inevitable.
Sico watched with the silent pride of a commander who knew these people weren't simply following orders as they were preparing, willingly, fiercely, for the future of the Republic they believed in.
And when he walked away, boots echoing on the catwalk, the soldiers stood taller.
Always.
By midweek, construction at Sanctuary's southern ridge had become the heart of the settlement's noise.
Every day, Sico walked the ridge path, boots crunching against soil that had been churned up by work crews, settlers, traders, and caravan brahmin.
Hammers cracked against metal and wood in a steady rhythm.
Voices rose in shouts, instructions, laughter.
Generators hummed in the background, powering cranes and welding tools.
What had once been a barren line of land overlooking the distant hills was now a crowded block of half-built homes, busy market stalls, and essential buildings still in progress with a chem dispensary, a new trade office, a two-story food hall, additional housing for incoming families.
New settlers were arriving every day.
Farmers from Abernathy.
Merchants from Bunker Hill.
Wanderers from the far east, where raiders made survival nearly impossible.
Even a few lone refugees from Brotherhood-dominated zones looking for safety and neutrality.
Children ran between unfinished walls, weaving around wooden beams and piles of bricks as if the half-built structures were a playground.
Dogs barked.
Caravans unloaded supplies.
Traders haggled loudly over items no one really needed but wanted anyway.
It wasn't perfect.
It wasn't polished.
It was alive.
Sanctuary was becoming a city with piece by piece, day by day.
Sico felt it with every step he took.
And with every passing sunrise, the weight on his shoulders grew heavier, because all of this depended on what happened next.
Now, a week after the failed mutant trial, Sico made his way toward the hospital with the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, the hum of the settlement alive behind him.
He carried no documents, no escort, no formal mandate.
Just purpose.
Unease flickered in the back of his mind that not fear, but anticipation. Curie had been working nonstop since he last spoke to her, sealed away in her lab with her notes, her neatly labeled vials, and the quiet fire of determination that only she possessed.
Rad-X was not just a medicine.
If perfected, it would be Sanctuary's shield.
Its defense against whatever the Brotherhood might unleash.
Its protection for soldiers marching through irradiated fields.
Its safety net for settlers exposed to poison, sabotage, or contaminated zones.
Curie had insisted she could replicate it, but more than that, she wanted to improve it.
And Sico needed to know exactly where she stood.
His boots carried him past the hospital courtyard, where a pair of guards stood at attention. One nodded sharply, the other held the door open without a word.
Inside, the air grew cooler, cleaner, with that faint antiseptic scent unique to hospitals. The floors gleamed and the hallways were quiet except for the soft steps of nurses moving between rooms.
Sico moved through it with familiarity.
The injured soldiers recovering from training incidents saluted him softly.
Settlers with minor wounds nodded in greeting.
Even the doctors straightened when he passed.
But he wasn't here for them.
He made his way toward the far corridor that the one they had sealed off for Curie the moment her project began. Two guards stood outside the lab door, posture rigid, weapons ready, disciplined in the way only Sarah's chosen elite could manage.
Sico stepped past the guards with a simple nod, and they swung the reinforced lab door open for him. The heavy steel creaked softly, the sound muffled by the rubber seal framing the edges. As the door slid shut behind him with a deep thud, the atmosphere changed immediately.
Curie's lab had its own pulse.
A soft, rhythmic hum came from the filtration vents lining the ceiling. The air felt warmer here, more alive, thick with the smell of reagents, heated metal, and sterilized glass. Light reflected off rows of gleaming vials arranged with perfect precision along the counters, each labeled with meticulous handwriting only Curie could produce that small, neat, almost artistic.
He took three steps forward before Curie even noticed him.
She was fully absorbed in her work.
Her shoulders were hunched slightly, her hair tied back hastily but still falling in soft curls around her face. A magnifying lamp glowed over her desk, illuminating her notebook filled with line after line of tight calculations, chemical breakdowns, and hand-drawn molecule diagrams.
Her eyes were pressed close to the microscope, one hand adjusting the fine focus knob while the other scribbled something on the open page beside her without ever looking down. The motion was instinctive, practiced, almost automatic.
Then, as if remembering something mid thought, she spun lightly in her chair toward her terminal, fingers flying across the keys with rapid clacks that echoed through the lab. Equations filled the screen, each line updating as she typed in new variables, correcting earlier assumptions, feeding results into her own custom models.
Only when a soft tone chimed from the machine across the room did Curie finally push away from the desk, almost gliding as she moved.
The machine in the corner was the size of a refrigerator, all brushed steel and thick insulated plating with a clear observation window at the front. Yellow indicator lights blinked rhythmically across its surface. Pipes fed into it from the wall, and a polished metal chute extended from the lower portion into a sterile tray.
Mel had built it for her.
Or rather, he built it under her instruction.
The blueprint she had found weeks earlier had been incomplete, damaged by time, mold, and half-burned edges. But Curie had pieced together the missing lines by hand, reconstructing the internal mechanism based on her medical understanding and Mel's engineering expertise.
The machine was extraordinary.
It could mix, stabilize, press, and compact chemical compound blends with high precision, producing Rad-X tablets identical to pre-war quality or at least that was the goal.
Curie stood before it now, tapping one of the gauges, making sure the temperature and pressure readings held steady before flipping a toggle switch and initiating another test cycle.
The machine began to whir, deep and mechanical, like a beast waking up.
Only then did Curie lift her head as finally sensing she was not alone.
Her bright eyes widened instantly.
"Ah! Monsieur Sico!" she exclaimed, startled but delighted, her voice carrying its usual musical warmth. She brushed her hands on her lab coat that unnecessarily, since they were already meticulously clean then hurried over with the same gentle urgency she always carried when someone entered her workspace. "I did not hear you come in. My apologies, I am very focused today, oui?"
Sico gave a small smile, tilting his head. "I can see that. You look like you've been working nonstop."
Curie let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Oh, but of course. There is so much to do, and I feel the momentum of progress, like a wind that pushes me forward. It is… exhilarating."
Her cheeks flushed slightly with excitement, the kind that came from intellectual exhilaration rather than physical exertion.
Sico glanced around the lab again, noticing subtle changes since the last time he had stepped foot inside as more charts pinned to the walls, new sample trays filled with multi-colored compounds, a cluster of labeled petri dishes forming a small mosaic over one counter.
"Looks like you've renovated half the lab," he said.
Curie clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels with a shy smile. "Just a little. Mel helped reorganize the power conduits for my equipment, and Hancock's team brought me more components from that laboratory I asked them to investigate. I now have everything I need to complete phase two."
Sico stepped closer, his gaze flicking from the machine, to her notes, to the microscope station. "That blueprint you found… you really rebuilt the whole thing?"
"Oui," she said proudly, her voice soft but glowing. "It was difficult, but Mel is a marvel. And with his hands and my brain, we reconstructed it piece by piece."
She tapped the side of the machine with affection. "This device, when fully synchronized it will allow us to produce Rad-X tablets in large quantities, with better consistency than the pre-war versions. More potent too, if I can stabilize the micronized compound."
Sico raised a brow. "More potent?"
Curie nodded quickly, excitement sparking again. "Yes! You see, the pre-war Rad-X relied on a balanced compound that needed to act quickly and maintain stability when ingested, but it degraded slightly in the bloodstream. I believe that based on my tests, I can increase the half-life of its active properties by twenty to thirty percent."
She moved toward her desk again, grabbing a vial filled with a faintly glowing orange powder. She held it up to the light, eyes shining.
"This is the latest formula, still experimental, but very promising. It disperses more evenly and binds to the receptors longer, giving extended resistance without the risk of overdose."
Sico exhaled softly. "That would change everything. Especially if the Brotherhood tries anything with radiation."
Curie's expression softened. She lowered the vial, cradling it almost tenderly.
"That is why I am working so hard, mon ami," she said quietly. "I do not want our soldiers, our settlers, our children to walk blindly into danger. Radiation can be… cruel. Invisible. I want Rad-X to be their shield."
Sico stepped closer, drawn to her sincerity. "Curie… that's exactly why I came. I wanted to hear how far you've gotten. And what you might need."
"Oh!" Her eyes lit up again. "Then come, come. Let me show you everything. I have made so much progress this week."
She motioned eagerly toward the workstation, the one with her open notebook, microscope, and scattered pages.
Sico followed her, settling beside her desk as she flipped through the pages with delicate, quick fingers.
"This," she said, pointing at a diagram, "is the breakdown of the pre-war Rad-X compound. And this next page is my improvement, see the stabilization here, the enzyme adjustment? It prevents rapid decay in the bloodstream."
She flipped the page again.
"And here, this is the strain analysis after exposure to mild radiation. My latest formula sustained efficiency twenty-seven percent longer in controlled tests. I think I can get it to thirty-five percent with a slight modification."
Sico nodded, though he knew she wasn't expecting him to fully understand the science behind it. She simply needed someone to listen. Someone who recognized the weight of what she was doing.
"And Mel's machine is producing test batches?" he asked.
Curie beamed. "Yes! Not perfectly yet, but it is close. I have run nine test cycles in the last week. Four failed, but five succeeded. And the last two were… magnifique! Consistent texture, correct dosage, stable binding. If I run three more successful tests in a row, I can begin mass production."
Her excitement was contagious.
"Curie, this is incredible work," Sico said sincerely.
She looked down suddenly, flustered but pleased. "Merci… It has been exhausting, but deeply fulfilling. I feel like I am contributing something essential. Something that protects. Something that heals."
Her voice softened further.
"I have always wanted to help people. That is why I was programmed. Why I chose to continue learning as a human. And now… this feels right. Important."
Sico let the moment rest gently before he spoke again.
"So tell me, what do you need from me? More supplies? More staff? More protection? Anything."
Curie tilted her head, thinking, then shook it lightly. "Supplies, perhaps soon. I am going through reagents faster than I expected. The formula needs very precise components. But for now… I only require time and quiet. And maybe a little more coffee."
She laughed softly.
Sico smirked. "I can get Sarah to requisition that."
Curie's laughter softened into something warm, almost grateful.
"Thank you, Sico… truly. Your support makes a great difference. I do not feel… alone in this work. And that matters."
Sico's chest tightened faintly that not with emotion exactly, but with an awareness of just how much she carried. How much everyone carried.
He glanced around once more, letting the room speak to him as its warmth, its hum, its quiet pulse of dedication.
He looked at Curie again. "Is there anything else? Any early results, concerns, anomalies? I want to stay personally updated on everything."
Curie nodded. "Yes. I can brief you on the full week of data. If you have time."
"I came here for exactly that," Sico said.
Curie's smile widened.
She pulled over her stool, motioning for Sico to sit beside her as she opened her notebook fully, ready to walk him through every breakthrough, every test cycle, every improvement.
Curie flipped another page in her notebook, the thin paper whispering softly as it settled. A few lines of her handwriting trailed down the margins that neat, tight, almost elegant, but Sico couldn't make sense of the chemical formulas that filled the rest of the sheet like a dense forest of symbols.
He listened, though.
He followed her explanations with real effort, nodding at the right moments, asking a question now and then. And even though he understood most of it, there were still chunks of the science that slipped through him like water through a sieve from enzyme stability curves, receptor binding longevity, controlled radiological micro-dosing response rates. He understood the implications, the goals, the practical outcome. But the deeper cellular level theory? The mathematical reasoning? That belonged to Curie.
She caught his expression once as one of those tiny flickers in his face that he didn't think anyone with normal intuition could notice and her smile softened knowingly, like a teacher realizing a student is trying but struggling silently.
"It is quite a lot, yes?" she said gently, tapping the side of the notebook. "I know sometimes I sound like… ehm… how do you humans say it? When the mouth goes faster than the brain?"
Sico huffed a quiet laugh. "You're doing fine, Curie. And I'm following. Mostly."
"Mostly," she echoed with playful emphasis. "That is good enough for me. You always listen very carefully. More carefully than many doctors I knew back in the Commonwealth."
"There aren't many doctors in the Commonwealth."
"Oui, but even among the few, some listen with their ego, not their ears."
He chuckled again, but the warmth between them faded subtly as she turned to a new page. The tone of her voice shifted with it that not darker exactly, but heavier. More clinical. More serious.
"This next part," she said softly, "is the… mmm… difficult part."
Sico straightened slightly, sensing the weight even before she explained it.
Curie pulled a fresh vial from a tray as this one sealed tightly, marked with a red stripe instead of orange and held it in both hands. She wasn't admiring it or showing it proudly like the earlier ones. This time she held it almost reluctantly.
"The prototype," she murmured. "A more advanced formulation. It is promising. Very promising. But the tests so far… they are only laboratory results. Chemical stability. Bio-simulation. Artificial tissue exposure."
Sico waited for the rest, patient, silent, steady.
Curie inhaled slowly.
"But to move forward, I must begin clinical testing. Real biological testing." Her fingers turned the vial slightly, the red line catching the lamp light. "I need a human subject."
The words hung in the air.
Not cold. Not cruel. Not ruthless.
Just… necessary.
Scientific.
But necessary things in the wasteland always carried sharp edges.
Curie didn't look at him immediately as she focused on the vial, her brows pinched softly in conflict.
"I do not like this part," she confessed. "I do not enjoy using people as… ah… 'lab rats.' Even before I had a human body, when I was still a Miss Nanny, I did not enjoy harming. I was made to heal. To protect. To care."
Her voice quieted, as fragile as glass. "But progress sometimes requires… choices. And trials. Without them, I cannot be certain the Rad-X is safe. I must test it on a living body."
Only then did she look at Sico.
Her eyes weren't cold or detached like some scientists became under pressure. They were sad… sad but firm, like someone choosing the least painful but still necessary path.
Sico didn't flinch.
He didn't recoil or hesitate or look away from her.
He breathed in, slow and thoughtful, and then nodded once.
"I understand," he said.
Curie studied him a moment longer, as if searching for judgment or discomfort, but when she found none, she relaxed, shoulders easing slightly.
"I wish there was another way," she whispered. "But the simulations have reached their limit. The machine can only replicate so much. The metabolism, the adrenaline response, the neural stress impact as all of it must be tested for real. And if I am to perfect this formula before the Brotherhood makes any moves involving radiological attacks…" She shook her head. "Time is not on our side."
Sico remained silent for a few heartbeats. He tapped one finger on the edge of the counter thoughtfully. The rhythmic click echoed softly through the lab, blending with the hum of the filtration vents.
Finally, he spoke.
"I can get you a subject."
Curie blinked, startled. "You can?"
"Yeah." He folded his arms loosely. "We've had raiders captured over the past few weeks. Sarah's been sending them to the temporary holding cells near the western wall for questioning. Some of them are still there, the ones too violent to release, too unpredictable to recruit, too dangerous to let roam free."
Curie hesitated, her lips pressing into a troubled line.
"You mean to use them as… test subjects?"
"They've been attacking settlers," Sico said plainly. "They've murdered. Stolen. Kidnapped. Some of them tortured a caravan merchant's kid last month. These aren't innocent people, Curie. And they're waiting for sentencing anyway. Most will end up in long-term imprisonment or… worse."
She looked down again, conflicted. "I know they are dangerous. And I know the wasteland justice system is already very harsh. But if I am to experiment on them… it feels…" She paused, searching for the right English word. "…heavy. It feels heavy."
"I'm not asking you to enjoy it," Sico said softly. "And I'm not pretending this is easy. But we're not doing this to torture anyone. We're doing this to protect everyone. Your Rad-X could save hundreds of lives. Maybe thousands. Raiders or not, someone has to be the first."
Curie took in a slow, steadying breath.
She wasn't trying to argue. She wasn't rejecting the idea. She was simply processing the moral gravity of what she was about to undertake.
"I will not harm them," she said quietly. "Not intentionally. My formula is not designed to injure. I only need to observe how the body reacts. If there are side effects." She wrung her hands lightly, her eyes soft, conflicted. "But I cannot promise there will be no discomfort…"
"That's better than what the Brotherhood would do to them," Sico muttered. "Or what the raiders would've done to us."
Curie gave a sad little nod of agreement.
Still, her expression remained gentle or overwhelmingly gentle, for someone preparing to run clinical tests in a wasteland laboratory. That was the thing about Curie. She didn't lose her humanity by becoming human; she amplified it.
She set the vial down carefully, deliberately, as if it were made of something fragile and living.
"When do you think you can bring one?" she asked quietly.
Sico considered the logistics. "If I talk to Sarah now, within the hour. Prison transport won't take long. They're chained, starved, and angry but still alive."
Curie swallowed softly.
Her fingers drummed nervously on the table with a small, restless habit she'd picked up since becoming human.
"Then… I should prepare," she said. "I need to clean the secondary exam room, set up the monitoring equipment, recalibrate the biometric scanner, and sterilize the injection tools. I want everything to be safe. Perfectly safe."
Her urgency wasn't frantic but focused, driven. She moved toward her shelves, already gathering supplies from sterilized gloves, antiseptic wipes, a pack of monitoring electrodes, a clipboard with a fresh page.
Sico watched her for a moment, admiring the fluid efficiency of her movements even while her mind was clearly running a thousand thoughts a minute.
"Curie," he said gently.
She paused mid-reach, glancing over her shoulder.
He stepped toward her and laid a hand lightly on her upper arm.
"You're not doing anything wrong."
Her smile was small. Uncertain. But grateful.
"I hope so," she whispered. "I truly hope so."
"You are," he assured her. "You're doing something necessary. And that matters."
Curie nodded slowly, taking in his reassurance like warmth, letting it steady her nerves.
Sico stepped back from Curie's desk, the quiet weight of the decision still lingering in the air. He could feel the hum of the lab vibrating through the soles of his boots with the warmth of machinery, the faint tang of antiseptic and heated metal, the subtle pulse of purpose that filled the room. Outside, the world might still be messy, dangerous, chaotic, but inside this lab, something meticulous, precise, almost sacred was happening. And that required choices most people weren't ready to make.
He reached for his communicator, the walkie talkie clipped to his belt. The walkie talkie let out a sound as he tapped in a sequence of commands, quickly connecting to the Sarah who now ran the settlement's guard detail for a moment.
"Sarah," he said when her voice responded, calm but clipped. She always answered with efficiency, even in moments of quiet tension. "I need a favor. And this isn't going to be… ordinary."
A brief pause, the faint hiss of static over the line. "Depends on what kind of favor, Sico. Nothing that will make me regret taking the day shift."
He allowed a small, humorless smile. "We have prisoners. Raiders. The ones captured over the last few weeks that dangerous, violent. Some of them will never be released. I need a transport. To the hospital, directly to Curie's lab."
Sarah's sharp intake of breath was audible even through the comm. "You mean… to be… subjects?"
"Yes," he said evenly, voice firm but not cold. "Curie has developed a Rad-X prototype. She needs to run live testing. They're all adults, all dangerous, all already under our custody. None of them are innocent. This isn't punishment. It's science. Controlled. Observed."
Another pause, longer this time. Sico could almost feel the mental gears turning on the other side. He knew her, knew the way Sarah processed information. Practical. Moral. Tactical. Efficient. And she wasn't easily swayed by excuses. But neither was she blind to necessity.
"Fine," she said finally, the edge in her voice softening slightly. "I'll arrange the transport. But I want a full list of who's going, I don't want surprises. Chains, restraints, sedation if needed. We're not running a circus here. This is controlled. And Sico… you're sure Curie is ready for this?"
"I am," he said. "She's been preparing for a week straight. The lab is fully equipped. She knows what she's doing, and I'll be there to oversee."
Sarah's sigh was heavy but resigned. "Copy that. I'll coordinate the transport. Ten minutes to mobilize the team. We'll move in pairs, all security prepped, minimal exposure to the rest of the settlement."
"Good," Sico said, pocketing the communicator. "And Sarah… no harm comes to them beyond the experiment. This is Rad-X testing. Not interrogation."
"I understand," she said, sharp, professional. "I'll make sure of it. Sico… be careful. This is the kind of thing that eats at a man's conscience if he lets it."
"I'll manage," he replied softly, though the weight of her words lingered longer than he expected.
He ended the call and looked back at Curie. She had been busy the entire time, moving almost imperceptibly, checking and rechecking instruments, scrubbing down surfaces, aligning electrodes and bio-monitors, scanning chemical vials and recording their temperatures in neat columns. She paused when she saw him step back into the room.
"The preparations," she said, voice almost a whisper, "are nearly complete. I have sterilized the secondary room. Biometric scanners are operational. Injection tools are calibrated. The ventilated hood is running. Everything will be contained, clean, and observed at all times."
Sico nodded, taking in the meticulous setup. "Good. And you've tested the monitoring systems?"
Curie moved toward the desk where a small stack of screens displayed simulated data. "Oui. I ran a dry test earlier that simulated body metrics, simulated ingestion of a safe sample. All readings were within expected parameters. No anomalies."
He walked closer to her, observing the small flickers of worry and concentration that passed across her face. Even in moments of excitement, there was caution. Even in moments of pride, there was responsibility. Curie was meticulous to a fault, but he trusted her instinct as he had learned over the months since she had joined the settlement.
"And the vials?" he asked, glancing at the metal trays. "Ready for transport?"
She nodded, sliding a small stainless steel box toward the center of the lab. Each compartment held a single vial, carefully wrapped in protective gel and insulated against shocks and temperature variations. "Ready. But, Sico… I must reiterate, this is still a prototype. Even with precautions, I cannot guarantee there will be no reaction."
"I understand," he said simply. His voice carried no judgment, only acknowledgment. "And I trust you've prepared for contingencies. Emergency antidotes, monitoring, immediate intervention protocols?"
"Yes," she said, her voice steadying as she glanced toward the machine in the corner. The hum of the device was a low, confident presence in the room now, like it understood the stakes. "I have Mel's automated mixer and press aligned with the latest batch. Dosage is calibrated for safety. All emergency countermeasures are in place."
Sico allowed a slow exhale, the tension in his chest easing fractionally, though the weight of the moment remained. He looked around the lab, at the faint orange glow of controlled chemical reactions, at the blinking indicator lights on the machine, at the stacks of detailed notes and meticulously organized vials.
"You've really thought of everything," he said, almost admiringly. "I can see why you're the one doing this."
Curie gave a small, self conscious laugh, brushing a curl of hair behind her ear. "I have no choice, mon ami. If it is to protect the settlement, the settlers, the soldiers… I must be precise. I must prepare."
"And you will," Sico assured her. "You always do."
She glanced toward the lab door. "Will you… oversee the transport as well?" she asked softly. "I want to ensure it is controlled, orderly, and… humane, as much as possible."
"I will," he said. "I'll be there when Sarah's team arrives. I'll ensure the prisoners are secured, transported safely, and settled in the observation room. No surprises. No unnecessary stress on the subject."
Curie's shoulders seemed to ease a fraction, her posture less tense as she nodded. "Merci… Sico. Your presence is… reassuring."
He only smiled lightly, though his mind was already calculating logistics: timing, security, sedation, route from the western holding cells to the lab, possible complications, and contingencies if any prisoner resisted.
"Good," he said finally. "Let's synchronize then. You continue preparing the lab. I'll coordinate the transport. We move as soon as Sarah gives the word."
Curie's gaze drifted back to the vials and the machine. "I will begin batch verification," she murmured, "and prepare the secondary room for biometric calibration. By the time they arrive, everything will be ready."
Sico nodded. He could see the focus returning to her eyes, the same sharp, intelligent gleam he had learned to recognize over countless conversations. She had a purpose, and it grounded her. It focused her in a way few things could.
He stepped back toward the door, pausing briefly. "Curie…" he said softly, "remember, even with careful planning, mistakes can happen. I trust your judgment, but stay alert. And call me immediately if anything is off, no matter how small."
Her head tilted slightly, the light in her eyes soft but resolute. "Yes, Sico. I will. No step will be taken without my full attention. And no error… will go unnoticed."
He gave a small nod and moved toward the door. Outside, he could hear the distant shuffle of boots as Sarah's team mobilizing, the prisoners waiting, the settlement humming quietly with life, oblivious to the quiet, meticulous preparations happening in the hospital's sealed wing.
The steel door opened with a soft hiss, letting in the cooler, less sanitized air of the corridor. Sico stepped out, and his communicator buzzed softly in his pocket. Sarah's voice came immediately, clipped but controlled.
"Sico. We're ready. Prisoners secured, restraints in place. Transport will depart in five minutes. Route cleared. No civilians in the way."
"Good," he said. "Bring them through the western entrance, and proceed directly to the hospital. No stops. Curie's lab is prepped. Observation room is ready. Ensure biometric scanners are active upon arrival. Minimal stress. Sedation if needed, but only if the subject resists. Understood?"
"Understood," Sarah replied, and her tone carried the weight of both duty and moral awareness. "We're ready. Transporting live specimens is… delicate, but necessary. We'll do it cleanly and controlled."
"Exactly," Sico said. "And Sarah… thank you. Your professionalism matters. Don't forget that."
"I know," she replied briefly, almost gruffly. "We'll see you soon, Sico."
The line went dead.
Sico exhaled, pocketing the communicator, and returned to the lab to find Curie moving carefully between stations, checking vials, scanning readouts, adjusting the machine, and setting up the observation room with deliberate, precise motions. She didn't rush. She didn't panic. She simply worked, each movement reflecting a mind running in parallel with responsibility, morality, and hope.
The hum of the machinery deepened, a soft, constant undertone to the quiet tension filling the lab. Instruments blinked softly in dim light. Vials gleamed under bright task lamps. Every surface, every wire, every screen told him the story of meticulous preparation.
Curie paused, looking toward the door as if feeling the vibrations of the approaching transport. She took a slow breath, running a gloved hand along the edge of the desk, then straightened, scanning each instrument one more time.
Sico watched her, the quiet weight of anticipation pressing against his chest. This was more than science. It was responsibility. Ethics. Necessity. And yet, despite the gravity, despite the moral stakes, despite the tension, they were ready.
________________________________________________
• 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:-