371. Soccer Field On Progress PT.1

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The soccer field wasn't just a patch of dirt with goalposts. It was a symbol of what the Minutemen stood for: rebuilding, uniting, and giving people hope.

The next morning, the early light of dawn spilled over Sanctuary's budding soccer field, casting long shadows of settlers already hard at work. Sico arrived as the smell of coffee and freshly turned earth filled the crisp morning air. His boots crunched against the dirt as he approached, nodding to a few familiar faces as they hauled supplies or hammered away at makeshift benches.

Sturges was already on-site, crouched beside one of the wooden goalposts, adjusting its alignment. He glanced up as Sico approached, tipping his cap.

"Morning, General! You're up early. Couldn't wait to see the progress, huh?"

"Something like that," Sico replied, smiling. "I wanted to make sure everything's on track. How's it looking?"

"Not bad," Sturges said, standing and gesturing around. "We finished marking the field lines late last night. Got the fishing nets cleaned and patched this morning, too. Should have the goals fully rigged by lunch."

Sico nodded in approval, but his gaze shifted to the edges of the field, where clusters of settlers stood idly chatting. His brow furrowed slightly. "What about seating? We'll need space for the spectators. Can't have people standing for hours during the tournament."

Sturges scratched his head. "Well, we were thinking of just letting folks sit on the ground or bring their own chairs. Building proper seating wasn't exactly part of the plan."

"It is now," Sico said firmly. "This field is more than just a place to play soccer—it's a chance for the community to come together. If we're inviting people from nearby settlements, we need to make sure they're comfortable."

"Fair point," Sturges admitted. "Alright, let me think… We've got some scrap wood left over from the old houses we dismantled. Might be enough to throw together a few bleachers."

"Good," Sico said. "Make it happen. And don't skimp on the quality—we don't want anyone getting splinters or falling through shoddy construction."

"You got it, boss," Sturges said with a grin. "Guess I'll need to rope in a few more hands for this. Hope nobody's shy about swinging a hammer."

Sico turned his attention back to the field, watching as settlers carefully painted the boundary lines with a white powder mixed from crushed chalk and ash. A pair of kids ran past, laughing as they carried a bundle of fishing net toward the goalposts. Their energy was infectious, and Sico couldn't help but smile.

"You've done good work here, Sturges," he said, clapping the man on the shoulder. "The field's starting to look like something out of pre-war times."

"Well, don't go jinxing us just yet," Sturges replied, chuckling. "Still plenty to do before it's game-ready."

Sico spent the next few hours walking the perimeter, inspecting the progress and offering words of encouragement to the workers. He stopped by the team painting the lines, bending down to examine their work.

"Looks sharp," he said. "Keep the edges clean, and make sure the penalty box is the right size. It'll be important during the tournament."

One of the settlers, a wiry man named Tom, nodded enthusiastically. "Will do, General. Never thought I'd be learning to paint a soccer field, but it's kind of fun."

"That's the spirit," Sico said. "Take pride in it. You're helping build something that'll bring people together."

As the day wore on, the field transformed further. The nets were securely attached to the goalposts, their rough but functional design a testament to the settlers' ingenuity. Meanwhile, Sturges and his newly recruited team of carpenters began constructing rows of wooden bleachers on either side of the field. The clatter of hammers and saws filled the air as they worked tirelessly, their enthusiasm rivaling that of the soccer players eager to test the field.

By mid-afternoon, Sico joined Sturges by the bleachers, watching as the first row took shape. The structure was sturdy, made from thick planks salvaged from a collapsed barn outside of Sanctuary.

"Not bad," Sico remarked, running a hand along the smooth wood. "How many rows are you planning?"

"Three on each side," Sturges replied. "Should be enough to seat about fifty people, maybe more if they squeeze in."

"Good," Sico said. "Let's make sure we leave enough space between the rows for people to move around. Don't want anyone tripping."

"Already on it," Sturges said with a nod. "We'll have these done by tomorrow, easy."

Satisfied, Sico moved on to another part of the field, where a group of children had gathered to test the goalposts. They took turns kicking a makeshift ball—little more than a bundle of cloth wrapped in string—toward the net. Their laughter and cheers echoed across the field, drawing the attention of nearby workers.

Sico approached them, his presence immediately commanding their attention. "Looks like you've got some future stars here," he said, gesturing toward the kids.

One of the boys, a scrappy twelve-year-old named Billy, puffed out his chest. "You think so, General? I'm gonna be the best striker in the Commonwealth!"

"I don't doubt it," Sico said with a grin. "But let's see how you handle a real challenge."

He stepped onto the field, gesturing for Billy to pass him the ball. The boy complied eagerly, and Sico deftly dribbled the bundle of cloth between his feet, drawing impressed murmurs from the small crowd. With a quick flick of his foot, he sent the ball sailing toward the net, where it landed with a satisfying thud.

"Whoa!" Billy exclaimed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Let's just say I've had some practice," Sico replied, winking. "Now, let's see if you can top that."

The impromptu game quickly drew a crowd, with settlers gathering to watch and cheer. Sico played alongside the kids, his laughter blending with theirs as they raced across the field. For a brief moment, the weight of leadership lifted from his shoulders, replaced by the simple joy of the game.

By the time the sun began to set, the bleachers were nearly complete, and the field had taken on the appearance of a true sports arena. Sico stood at the edge, hands on his hips, surveying the day's progress. The sight filled him with a deep sense of pride—not just in the field, but in the people who had worked so hard to bring it to life.

Sturges joined him, a satisfied grin on his face. "Well, General, what do you think? Think we'll be ready in time?"

"No doubt about it," Sico said. "This is going to be more than just a soccer field, Sturges. It's going to be a place where people can come together, forget their troubles, and remember what we're fighting for."

Sturges nodded, his expression thoughtful. "You're right about that, boss. This field ain't just dirt and wood—it's hope."

Sico smiled, clapping Sturges on the shoulder. "And hope is something the Commonwealth can always use more of."

As the workers packed up for the evening, Sico lingered for a moment longer, gazing out at the field. The day had been long and exhausting, but it was worth it. In just a few short weeks, this place would be filled with laughter, cheers, and the thrill of competition—a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

As dusk settled over Sanctuary Hills, the air buzzed with a sense of accomplishment. The newly constructed soccer field gleamed under the warm hues of the setting sun, and the settlers dispersed, their spirits lifted by the day's progress. Sico lingered near the bleachers, watching as Sturges packed away his tools and the children scattered, still chattering excitedly about the impromptu game earlier.

The peaceful moment was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps crunching against gravel. Sico turned just in time to see Piper Wright jogging up the hill, her brown trench coat fluttering behind her. A wide grin lit up her face, her usual energy practically bouncing off her.

"General Lee!" she called, waving as she approached. "Got a minute? Or are you too busy playing superstar athlete with the kids?"

Sico chuckled, crossing his arms. "Piper, always good to see you. What brings you out here? Don't tell me you've come to challenge me on the field."

Piper smirked, stopping a few feet away and planting her hands on her hips. "Tempting, but no. I've got bigger news. I just got back from the radio room, and let's just say the word is out about your little tournament idea."

"The word is out?" Sico repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean *everyone* knows about it now," Piper said, leaning closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "While you've been building goalposts and bleachers, I've been working the press. Dropped by Radio Freedom and gave them the scoop—figured it'd do some good to spread the news beyond Sanctuary."

Sico's eyes widened. "You went on Radio Freedom?"

"Sure did," she said proudly. "Told them all about the tournament, the field, the whole shebang. People were eating it up. You wouldn't believe the messages they've been getting—settlers, Minutemen outposts, even folks from Goodneighbor, all wanting to know how they can join in."

Sico let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's… unexpected. I was thinking this would be more of a local thing. Didn't realize it'd spark that much interest."

"That's the thing about hope, Sico," Piper said, her tone softening. "People are desperate for it, and you've given them a reason to feel something other than fear or anger. This tournament—it's not just a game. It's a reminder that life can be more than just surviving."

Sico glanced back at the field, his thoughts racing. He hadn't anticipated the tournament drawing attention from so far afield, but Piper was right—hope was in short supply these days. If this event could bring people together, even for just a few hours, it was worth the added pressure.

"So, what's the plan?" Piper asked, breaking his reverie. "You gonna open this up to the whole Commonwealth? Or is this still Sanctuary's big day?"

"I'll have to think about it," Sico admitted. "The logistics alone would be a nightmare. But if people are willing to make the trip, I'm not going to turn them away. The more, the merrier, right?"

"Now that's the spirit," Piper said with a grin. "And don't worry about the logistics. You've got a whole community of Minutemen at your back, not to mention the best reporter in the Commonwealth. We'll make it work."

Sico chuckled. "Alright, you've sold me. But if this turns into a circus, I'm blaming you."

"Deal," Piper said, sticking out her hand. "Now, come on. Tell me more about this tournament of yours. You've got rules? Teams? Prizes?"

Sico shook her hand, then launched into an explanation of his vision. He described how the tournament would be structured—teams of settlers and Minutemen competing in a series of matches, culminating in a championship game under the stars. There would be food stalls, music, and maybe even a bonfire to cap off the night.

Piper listened intently, her eyes lighting up with each new detail. "Sico, this sounds amazing. If you can pull this off, it'll be the talk of the Commonwealth for months."

"That's the goal," Sico said, his confidence growing. "But it's going to take a lot of work. We'll need to organize teams, finalize the schedule, and make sure we have enough supplies for everyone who shows up."

"Leave some of that to me," Piper said, tapping her Pip-Boy. "I'll start spreading the word to nearby settlements. We can set up a registration system—get people signed up ahead of time so we're not scrambling at the last minute."

"That would be a huge help," Sico said, nodding. "Thanks, Piper. I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Piper laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure there's a spot on the bleachers for me when this thing kicks off."

"Front row," Sico promised.

As the conversation wound down, Piper excused herself to check in with Preston Garvey, who was managing Sanctuary's defenses. Sico watched her go, his mind already spinning with ideas for how to accommodate the growing interest in the tournament.

---

The next morning, the preparations kicked into high gear. Sturges and his team focused on finishing the bleachers, while other settlers worked on constructing makeshift stalls for food and drink. Sico called a meeting with the Minutemen leaders to discuss security measures and ensure that the influx of visitors wouldn't compromise Sanctuary's safety.

"The tournament's shaping up to be bigger than I expected," Sico told the group, gathered around a table in the old workshop. "We'll need extra patrols on the perimeter and a clear plan for handling any troublemakers."

Preston nodded, his expression serious. "We can assign additional Minutemen to the gates and have a few roaming the crowd during the games. If anything goes wrong, we'll be ready."

"Good," Sico said. "Let's also set up a medical station near the field. Just in case."

"Already working on it," one of the settlers chimed in. "Doc Williams said he'd handle the setup."

"Perfect," Sico said. "And one more thing—we'll need a proper announcer. Someone to keep the crowd engaged and call out the plays."

The group exchanged glances before Preston spoke up. "What about Piper? She's got the voice for it."

Sico grinned. "That she does. I'll ask her if she's up for the job."

With the plans taking shape, the energy in Sanctuary was palpable. Settlers worked tirelessly, their excitement building with each passing day. Even the children pitched in, helping to decorate the field with colorful banners and flags made from scraps of cloth.

By the time the bleachers were complete and the field fully marked, Sico stood back to admire the transformation. The soccer field was no longer just a patch of dirt—it was a symbol of resilience, community, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

---

The night before the tournament, Sico found himself standing alone on the field, the stars twinkling overhead. He took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs. Tomorrow, this place would be alive with laughter, cheers, and the sound of a soccer ball being kicked across the dirt.

For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope—not just for Sanctuary, but for the entire Commonwealth. And that, he realized, was worth every ounce of effort.

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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:-