(Disclaimer: I am merely playing in the sandbox of the Fallout 3 universe. It's not mine, but this story is – so don't plagiarize, but drop a line if you'd like to rip some of my original ideas for your own story. Thanks to the Vault Wiki for supplementing my knowledge on some things.)
(Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so your reviews encourage me to continue and help me improve. This story began as a game walkthrough and turned into…this, so enjoy! The back story will come out in later chapters. Now, without further ado…)
***UPDATE*** Chapter One is done, and I know I promised no significant changes in the rewrite, but third person ended up giving me more creative freedom. And I've added about 10% to the word count, some new content and the rest just a better version of what I had before.
Chapter One: The Seed Within, Part I
"Come here, little one."
The deep, masculine voice caused Lei Quan to look up. She had been sitting on the floor beside her toy box, rolling a cherry red toy truck back and forth. On its side, the words "Nuka-Cola" were stenciled in a flowing script. The truck was slightly dented, the once-lacquered finish long since faded over the course of its 200-year lifetime in the artificially lit, climate-controlled environment of Vault 101.
"Come on, I know you can do it," her father implored, "come to Daddy."
Lei quickly fixated her attention on the brightly-colored book he held in his hand. There was no way she could understand the contents of I'm Special at this age, but she could remember the feeling of safety and contentment she felt as her father held her, his soothing voice washing over her as he flipped through the pages and she drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Jin Quan watched with an adoring smile as his daughter struggled to her feet and eagerly began to stagger over to him on her unsteady legs.
"One year old and already walking around. Oh, Lei, I'm so proud of you!"
Responding to the warmth in his tone, Lei gurgled happily.
"Dada!"
The exclamation illuminated Jin's face with joy at hearing his only child's first word. However, an observer would have noticed that the smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes, which at that moment acquired a glistening, distant look. Such an observer would have noted the absence of Lei's mother, recalling that he had entered the Vault unaccompanied except for the child he carried in his arms, and concluded that Jin still grieved for her, whoever she had been.
Jin was snapped out of his reverie as Lei tugged the book from his hands, already flipping through the well-worn pages to look at the colorful illustrations of children engaged in various activities. Lei, in turn, was snapped out of her perusal of the book by an all-too-familiar click as the latch of the door to her plastimesh enclosure fell into place, her father standing on the other side with a look of regret on his face.
"I'm sorry, kiddo. Daddy will only be a minute," he promised, walking out.
He gave her once last glance as he passed the interior window that was a common feature in many rooms of the Vault, this one allowing him to check on his daughter from the family room of their residential unit. The metal door slid closed with a pneumatic hiss behind him.
Lei irately kicked a ball across the playpen, unhappy with her indefinite confinement. She shifted uncomfortably, likely feeling the chill of the stone floor seeping through the thin material of her soft pink jumpsuit. Spotting a toy car sat off to one side, she grabbed it and began making the best of the situation, rolling the "Red Racer" car around on the floor, crawling after it as she propelled it with her hand. She reached the fence but, determined not to alter her course, stood up and started rolling the car along its side and making unintelligible, wet burbles of contentment. Suddenly, it stopped rolling, its axles caught on the door latch mechanism. Intently, Lei pushed against the car, willing it forward until, with a click, the door swung open.
It was an unexpected but welcome surprise to Lei. Abandoning the car, she picked up her book and toddled over to the chair where she was accustomed to falling asleep as her father read to her. She struggled to climb into the chair, but her upper body strength just wasn't developed enough to achieve her goal. She succeeded merely in pulling the cushion and several pillows onto the floor. Giving up, she settled onto the comfortable pile, facing the door and likely waiting for the return of her father. Minutes later she was curled up, the book clutched to her chest and her thumb in her mouth as she slept.
**********************************
Four Years Later…
"Oh, is little baby Amata going to go cry to her daddy now?" Butch taunted.
Lei had been looking for her best friend, Amata Almodovar, so that they could play Vault with their dolls. Her own doll, Guinevere, swayed side-to-side with her steps, the blonde's wide green eyes occasionally obscured by the oscillating movements of the counter-weighted eyelids that simulated blinking.
Hearing the taunts, Lei had followed the voices and now rounded the corner onto yet another of the monotonously slate grey halls of Vault Level B, the second level of the Vault. Stopping short, she took in the scene before her.
Butch DeLoria and his friends, Paul Hannon and Wally Mack, were tossing Samantha, Amata's favorite doll, between themselves as Amata tearfully pleaded for its return and futilely tried to intercept it from the taller boys as it yet again soared over her head.
The three boys, along with Freddie Gomez, Chip Taylor, and Steve Mack, made up the boys in their "generation," a term that designated the children born during each population cycle. The girls in this generation, Generation L7, included Lei, Amata, Christine Kendall, and Susie Brotch.
Lei dropped her doll to the floor and rushed forward to stop them.
"Butch, leave Amata alone, you big, dumb bully!" she shouted.
Smirking, Butch stepped to the side and stuck his foot out just as Lei was about to crash into him, sending her sprawling across the rough polycrete floor. Tears of pain sprang to her eyes, pinpricks of blood leaking from a hundred tiny lacerations on her hands and arms.
"Or you'll what, you clumsy little Wastefreak?" he taunted her.
Paul and Wally guffawed and went back to tossing Amata's doll between themselves, but lost interest as Amata gave up and went to help Lei to her feet.
"Oh, look what I found…" Butch said, causing Amata and Lei to look over at him.
Identical looks of horror blossomed on their faces. Butch held Guinevere, one arm in either of his hands as he pulled in opposite directions. Butch saw the looks on their faces and was, if possible, spurred even further.
"You wanna do something? Come on and save your precious dolly!"
He stared at them challengingly, neither daring to move against him, until the seams could take no more and ripped asunder, both arms dripping fluffy stuffing.
"That's what I thought!" Butch snarled as he turned to go.
Paul and Wally looked at the girls, looked at Butch, and then promptly copied Butch's actions on Amata's doll. They carelessly tossed the crippled doll away to join Lei's doll on the floor as they hurried to follow Butch.
"Why do you have to be so mean to us?" Amata screamed at them as they walked away.
The two girls walked over and retrieved their dolls from the ground. Their emotions, already raw from the encounter, overwhelmed them as they looked at the ruin inflicted upon their beloved playthings. Amata burst into tears and was soon joined by Lei, their wails echoing in the empty passageway and mingling with the fading sounds of callous laughter. Both seeking comfort, yet both also wanting to comfort the other, they did the only thing they could think of. Each wrapped her arms around the other and pulled her close, burying their respective faces in the other's shoulder as they were racked with sobs.
**********************************
Three Years Later…
Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!
"Hurry up! They're getting closer!"
"Shut up, I've almost got it! AHA!"
Amata held up the card triumphantly as the light turned green and the door slid open. We tumbled into the room and hastily hit the pad to seal the door. Seconds later, we heard the clump of our pursuers' boots rounding the corner. I tried to calm down, amazed that they couldn't hear my heart pounding against my ribs. The noises suddenly stopped.
"Sir, I just saw them heading this way," Officer Kendall explained.
The tread stopped as a second voice snapped, "I assign you one simple task, John, and you can't even do that? How hard is it to keep an eye on my daughter and make sure that Jin's little brat isn't influencing her?"
A soft gasp escaped my lips. My mouth worked soundlessly as indignation swelled inside of me.
"He…your…that…" I choked out.
"Shh!" Amata hissed in a whisper. "Do you want us to get caught?"
Biting back a retort, I quieted and listened as the Overseer finished scolding Kendall.
"Keep looking. I will expect to hear from you in the next hour, for your sake."
His softer tread, no longer masked by Kendall's boots, walked away.
"Bastard," we heard Kendall mutter, "Why don't you try actually raising your kid instead of making the rest of us do it?"
He huffed and stomped off. I looked over to see Amata flushing with anger. Trying to divert her thoughts, I sighed then put a grin on my face and began talking cheerfully.
"Did your dad ever figure out that you took his access card?" I asked. "That was a brilliant idea by the way!"
The blend of question and praise seemed to have the right effect, as I watched her pause to process what I'd said.
"No, he just got another one made," she stated, then smiled angelically. "No, Daddy, I haven't seen your ID. Why? Did you misplace it again?"
I collapsed in a fit of giggles, picturing the scene in my head, and she joined in. A minute later, I sobered up enough to examine our surroundings.
"Where are we?" I wondered aloud.
The room appeared to be a residential unit, but judging from the thick layer of dust blanketing the well-worn blue carpet it hadn't been used in awhile. A full-size bed lurked in the corner of the room, it's linens a faded blue from years of use. Against the wall was a synthwood wardrobe flanked by two chests of drawers made of the same faux-oak material as the wardrobe. The aluminum of the privacy panel at the back of the room concealed what I knew would be a small room with a plastex toilet and single-person hygiene stall. A storage chest at the foot of the bed and a desk with a built-in, slide-out seat completed the room's spartan furnishings.
I surmised that this room had been decommissioned since not many people were left in the Vault. My dad liked to tell me stories about how the Vault used to be crowded with people, but wouldn't tell me why there were so few people now.
Leading Amata over to the bed, I plopped down and pulled out the bag of potato crisps that we'd been sneaking out of the cafeteria when Officer Kendall spotted us. She reached into a pocket and passed me one of the bottles of water she'd managed to get her hands on. Relaxing and munching on the chips as the thrill of the chase wore off, we rehashed our favorite topic - the stupidity of Butch and his friends. They always seemed to find an excuse to make our lives more difficult, so we'd started going everywhere together so that they couldn't catch us by ourselves and chase us through the labyrinthine passages of the Vault or otherwise harass us.
**********************************
Two Years Later…
The lights flashed on, harsh and fluorescent. As I shielded my eyes, rainbow spots dancing across my vision, a deafening chorus of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" erupted around me. As my eyes adjusted, I saw everybody standing around and clapping.
"Happy birthday, princess!" Dad exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug, "Happy tenth birthday! You're growing…"
He was cut off as the Overseer cleared his throat loudly and edged in front of Dad. A wave of dislike immediately swept over me. Amata was my best friend, but her father was always ordering everyone around and never doing any real work himself. And now he was talking in that officious, superior tone of his. I was interrupted from my thoughts as he finished speaking.
"…own Pip Boy 3000," he intoned as he thrust it towards me, adding with a smirk, "You'll be getting your first work assignment tomorrow."
As he walked off - probably to go help himself to the best piece of cake I thought to myself – my Dad stepped forward again, his face returning to a smile from the frown he'd directed at the Overseer's back.
"Ignore him and enjoy your party," he said, "I've got a surprise present for you later."
He moved to go sit with his friend Stanley, but I stopped paying attention as the next person stepped forward. I felt my face stretch into a huge smile.
"Amata!" I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly. "The party is amazing!"
She grinned back as we stepped apart.
"You're so easy to surprise. I bet you can't even guess what I got you for your birthday, can you?"
I realized she was right, so I could only admit defeat.
"You're right, I can't," I conceded.
"Well, I was rummaging through some of the storage sublevels and I found a mint-condition, never-opened copy of…" she drummed her fingers on the nearby chair, "Grunhilda the Valkyrie!"
My jaw dropped...there was no way…
"Which issue?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.
"Issue #69," she grinned victoriously.
I couldn't believe it. The final issue, the only one I hadn't read. Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and awkwardly kissed her on the cheek. She stared at me with a shocked expression. I blushed and started stuttering out an apology. She shushed me, and glanced around before giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
"You're welcome," she finished in a low voice. "I've gotta go now, you know how my dad is, but I'll see you later, okay?"
I just nodded, still processing what had just happened. I saw Dad looking at me from across the room and inclining his head towards the guests. I had to be polite and thank everyone for coming to my party. An elderly lady was sitting alone nearby, taking dainty bites of some Cram. I walked up beside her and gave her a hug. She was the oldest person here in Vault 101, and all of us called her Grandma Palmer.
"Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said warmly, "but why are you sitting here by yourself?"
"Oh, don't worry about me, dear. My, my…you're ten already. You're growing up so fast. Why, it seems that just yesterday …"
Just then a shrill whirr filled the air and I could hear Stanley shouting.
"NO, ANDY, DON'T CUT THE…"
He was too late, as the Handy bot's circle saw met the cake with a wet whuck, sending cake flying everywhere.
"Well," Grandma Palmer started, "I guess it's a good thing I baked you one of my famous Streusel Sweet Rolls."
She pulled it out of her handbag, wrapped in cellophane.
"Go on now and enjoy it, you don't need to share it with anyone."
I thanked her again and walked off, beginning to unwrap it. I was roughly pulled aside.
"Give me that sweet roll," Butch demanded in a low voice. "I'm hungry, and that stupid robot destroyed the cake."
I jerked my arm away, anger washing over me. Butch and his stupid friends Wally and Paul had picked on me for as long as I could remember, and they only got worse as time went on. I decided that it was time to start fighting back. I leaned in close to Butch.
"Oh, did your drunk of a mom forget to feed you again?" I whispered nastily, taking pleasure as I watched my remark register.
He flushed with shame as his face contorted with rage.
"Don't you talk about my mom!"
With a shout, he lunged at me, swinging clumsily. I stepped aside fluidly and swept my foot out, tangling his legs and sending him crashing into the remnants of the cake.
"Too slow, monkeyface."
I walked away as the adults rushed over.
"What happened?" Dad asked, his concern evident.
I struggled to keep from laughing as Butch was pulled aside by Officer Gomez, frosting and bits of cake plastering his face.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Butch!" Officer Gomez chastised him. "Trying to hit a girl…"
"Butch wanted my present from Grandma Palmer, daddy, and when I wouldn't give it to him he tried to take it from me. But I took care of it."
"Officer Gomez and I will get this sorted out," he said sternly, "in the meantime, why don't you go down to the reactor level? Jonas has the surprise present that I told you about."
"Alright!" I agreed enthusiastically.
On my way out of the room, I made sure to thank Stanley for my Pip Boy and escape before Mrs. Armstrong could corner me. She was the most eccentric person in the Vault and liked to write unsettlingly strange poems. As I walked towards the stairs down to the reactor level, I heard voices coming from the stairs up to the atrium. Curious, I slipped off my shoes and crept closer in my socks.
"…I put up with that brat and her father is because he is our only doctor and she is Amata's friend."
I recognized the voice…it was the Overseer!
"Give the party five more minutes, then shut it down and get everyone back to work."
Oh, how I hate that man! I'll get back at him one day…
"As you command, sir," said Officer Kendall.
I crept away, seething, and stomped to the reactor room. As I entered, Jonas's voice rang out.
"Kids aren't allowed down here!"
Not in the mood to play any games, I glared at him.
"Can it, Jonas, my dad said that my surprise present was down here," I snapped, "So where is it?"
"We're waiting for your…" he began.
"Sorry for the wait, Jonas," Dad broke in, entering the room. "Butch was, well, being Butch again. I knew that I shouldn't have let him come to the party, but I thought that…well, it doesn't matter now."
He scanned his Vault ID and a nearby door hissed open. Motioning for us to follow him, we entered one of the many substorage rooms of the Vault. The dusty room was filled with crates. My father went to one and unsnapped the locks on it. I squealed in delight when he pulled out a BB gun.
"It took forever to find the parts to rebuild this," Dad said, "but I finally restored it. Do you like it?"
"I love it, Daddy, thanks!" I affirmed.
Just then, I heard a skittering coming from the corner. A roach as big as a puppy emerged from behind some crates, its carapace rasping against the floor. I recognized it from our school lessons as a radroach, one of the creatures that had been mutated by the nuclear fallout from the Great War. I took aim and shot at it, but the BB merely pinged off a crate behind it. I fired again, and heard a chik as the BB glanced off the floor in front of the roach. Another shot, and this one managed to graze the bug's chitinous skin. At this, the bug turned and began skittering towards me.
Without time to reload for another shot, I reacted on instinct. I dropped the gun to the floor, and lashed out with my foot as the radroach jumped. My foot connected and sent it flying backwards, landing on its back. As it struggled to right itself, I ran forward and jumped, pulling my legs up. I stomped them down, feet together, as I landed on the radroach. With a crack and a squelch, its exoskeleton split and its foul-smelling viscera oozed out. My father clapped loudly.
"Well, well, well. Nice job, Lei! Not quite a big game hunter, but that was impressive nevertheless. Perhaps I should have made you a punching bag instead."
He came over and hugged me.
"Hey, Stanley, get a picture of my little roach slayer and me!"
A bright flash later, Dad made a suggestion.
"Why don't we head back now? Maybe you can spend some time with your friend Amata before curfew."
*****************************************
One Year Later…
Soon enough, I'd found out that I was worthless with a gun and told my dad that I wanted to learn how to fight. Surprised, he had nevertheless scrounged up the materials to build a serviceable punching bag for my 11th birthday, filling an old duraplast sack with sand he'd excavated from the service tunnels deep down in the Vault and hanging it in my room. Even better, he had told me about how, before the war, there were people who learned to use their body as a weapon through practicing martial arts. It had been my turn to be shocked when he had gone into his room and emerged with some old photographs. They showed him holding some sort of trophy, dressed all in white with a black belt tied around his waist.
"When I was young, my parents encouraged me to learn martial arts, and so I was trained in several styles of Shaolin kung fu. While I can no longer use them practically, I will do my best to help you learn them." I threw my arms around him.
"Really? Thanks Dad, you're the best!" I had gushed.
When I saw Amata later that day, I told her to meet me at our spot, promising a surprise. Now she was looking at me upside down, sprawled across the bed.
"Well, what's this super secret surprise you've been teasing me with?" she asked with a mixture of impatience and anticipation.
Giggling, I did my best imitation of her.
"You're so easy to surprise. I bet you can't even guess what I have for you, can you?"
I looked at her expectantly. I watched her desire for the surprise war with her pride. Finally, she relented, but responded in a parody of my voice.
"Oh my gosh, you're right. I totally can't!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing merrily.
I threw a pillow at her, but she deflected it.
"I do NOT sound like that!" I protested in a scandalized voice, but ruined the effect by bursting into laughter. "But I guess if you don't want your surprise…" She looked at me pleadingly.
"Please?" she implored.
I reached under the bed, grabbing onto the cool metal of the item I'd stashed under it earlier.
"Drumroll, please," I announced.
Amata sighed, but began bouncing her hands on the mattress. I pulled out my BB gun and watched delight blossom on her face.
"I want you to have this."
"No way!" she exclaimed. "How did you…? Where did you…? Never mind, I don't want to know. Thanks, Lei!"
She rolled over and pounced on me, wrapping me in an appreciative hug. Caught unaware, the gun flew from my hands as we tumbled over the edge of the bed.
"Oof!" I grunted as Amata landed on top of me.
She looked down and smirked.
"Pinned ya!" she exulted.
I squirmed around, managing to brace a leg against the bed frame. Pushing out and up, I twisted until I was looking down at her.
"Pinned who, again?" I teased.
Amata relaxed and I loosened my grip. She exploded into motion and I was whirled back to the ground.
"Pinned YOU again," she declared, grinning in triumph.
I didn't reply, suddenly aware of how close we were. Amata seemed to realize the same thing, blushing.
"Err…"
She rolled off of me and helped me up, avoiding my eyes.
"Do you know somewhere we can practice shooting this thing?" she asked.
"Oh, I know the perfect place," I responded confidently. "Have you ever been down to the reactor level?"
********************************************
Three Years Later…
"Alright, class. Remember, this is Career Interest Week!" Mr. Brotch enthused. "You will each come up one by one and draw a name from the jar. Each name is that of a person who works in one of the many departments here in the Vault. You will shadow your person for the next week and submit a paper detailing your experiences, as well as an evaluation by your mentor."
Many people groaned in disappointment, but began filing towards the front of the room regardless. I noticed Mr. Brotch pull Amata aside and sidled closer, trying to focus on their conversation over the hum of the ancient slidecaster.
"…will, of course, be shadowing your father per his request."
"But, Mr. Brotch, I want to…"
"I'm sorry, Amata, but I'm not going to go against…"
"Well, he can't make me!"
And with that she stormed over to her desk and shoved herself into the seat. A sharp bump from behind caught my attention.
"Are you too stupid to get a piece of paper? You know, the white stuff that people write on?" Butch sneered.
"When are you going to grow up, Butch?" I retorted, "Maybe when your mom stops drinking?"
I snatched a piece of paper and stalked back to my seat before he could think of a comeback. Glancing at it, I noticed that I had gotten Stanley. This should be interesting…
I perked up as several people snickered at the front of the room.
"Shut up!" Butch growled.
"He's a barber, not a hair stylist. This is stupid, anyways. I'm out of here."
Crumpling up the paper, he was walking towards the exit when Mr. Brotch called to him.
"Your choice, Butch, but this is mandatory for graduation. But hey, if you don't mind Waste Disposal…"
With a snort of disgust, Butch turned around and went back to his seat, glaring at anyone who dared look at him.
After class, I tracked down Stanley in his workspace. The room was chaotic, with a dilapidated bookcase containing a hodge-podge of books, manuals, and papers stuffed onto its shelves against one wall. The rest of the room was taken up by a workbench, several countertops, and a desk that wrapped around the corner of the room. A plethora of colored wires crisscrossed the floor, while scraps of metal and salvage were scattered about. The countertops were hidden beneath an assortment of electrical equipment and parts, various trinkets, and apparent junk. Clearing my throat loudly, Stanley ceased his feverish tapping of the keys on the keyboard, the flow of green characters across the screen continuing despite his lack of input.
"Yes, Lei, can I help you?" he asked distractedly.
"Well, I'm supposed to…" I began.
"Crap! Is that today?"
Jonas turned to another computer and tapped a few keys.
"Crap!" he exclaimed again as he turned back to me, running a hand through his balding hair. "I'm really sorry, Lei, I totally forgot about Career Interest Week," he apologized. "I'm in the middle of this project and really can't spare the time today. Wait… Yes, that would make sense and kill two mole rats with one dart…"
I could practically see the gears turning in his head.
"Tell you what, Lei. Why don't you have a seat over there and browse some of the books I have. Find an area you're interested in, and we can start looking into it tomorrow."
He looked pleased with his solution, so I agreed. There was only one problem…
"Over…where?" I asked, indicating the clutter taking up all available space.
"Oh, I'm sorry, give me a sec," he said.
He stepped to a chair, grabbing the papers piled in it and piling them into another chair with an already precariously-tilting stack of papers. He swept aside the odds and ends on the nearby countertop, some of them clanking to the floor as he cleared a spot for me.
"Thanks, Stanley," I said gratefully. He muttered noncommittally in reply, already back at his station and absorbed in his current project. Scanning the bookshelf, some titles caught my attention and, with some effort, I extracted them from the surrounding materials. I held two books and a manual.
The first book, Password Protected: A Beginner's Introduction to Electronic Security Systems, seemed to be from pre-war times. Flipping through it, it appeared to be an educational text. The second book, The Big Bang: A Practical Approach to Explosives, also read like a textbook, but contained practical advice and lessons. The book was slightly singed, leading me to wonder about what had happened to the previous owner. Lastly, I glanced at the cover of the manual. Wasteland Weaponsmithing appeared to have been written by someone named Lucky Harith. Opening it, I was amazed at the in-depth discussion of the pros and cons of various weapons, as well as lists of components that could be used to make your own weaponry.
"What about these, Stanley?" I asked.
Stanley continued working, oblivious. I tried again, with similar results. On the third query, he finally heard me and turned to look at the books, examining them.
"Well, I'd be happy to teach you about computers, but as for the other two," he concluded, "you won't need to build weapons since the security officers protect everyone, and we definitely don't want you accidentally blowing the Vault up, so I'll have to say no. But if you think you might like computers, you might like this."
He dug around a bit before thrusting a paperback book at me – The Steel Soldier: Robotics Revealed. It looked at least mildly interesting, so I set it with the computer textbook and made to put the others back on the shelf. However, as soon as Stanley went back to his work I slipped them into my school bag, annoyed at Stanley's paternalistic attitude. I'll decide what I do and don't need to do for myself, thank you very much.
**********************************************
Two Years Later…
"Lei! Time for school! You don't want to be late today!" my father's muffled voice shouted through the door.
I didn't reply, focusing on technique as I flowed into the next stance of the Shaolin animal styles. In my mind, I visualized two opponents. Pushing off of one leg, I leapt nimbly up, dodging a leg sweep, and snapped my other foot forward quickly, catching one in the stomach. As I landed, I swept my left arm out, deflecting an imagined left hook outward and turning my body into the move, thrusting my right palm upwards at an angle and catching the second assailant under the jawbone. Using the disorientation of my blow, and now in close quarters, I rapidly shifted my weight, shot my left knee upwards into the groin, and finished the fight by bringing my closed right fist crashing sharply down onto the back of his neck as he bent over in pain.
Sensing the approach of the first, I turned and rained a series of lightning blows at the punching bag, aiming from memory at the several critical points and finishing with a viper-like fingertip jab at the throat. I imagined my foe clutching his throat as I kicked from the side, crippling his knee and collapsing him to the ground.
Picking up a towel, I wiped away the thin sheen of sweat covering my body and stepped into my jumpsuit, zipping it up the front. I walked out of the room and found Dad looking at me with a frown.
"Oh, lighten up, Dad," I said, "The G.O.A.T. is just a bunch of the Overseer's crap anyways."
"Watch your mouth, young lady," he warned, "and regardless, you'll only succeed in pissing him off if you skip it. Do you really want to be stuck cleaning the waste facilities for the rest of your life?"
"It wouldn't be the first time I've had to put up with everyone's shit," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that, Lei?" he asked.
"I said, you're right, Dad. I'll go take the test," I supplied.
"That's my girl," he smiled, "Good luck on the exam."
I exited our residential unit, walking the familiar route toward the Vault classrooms. As I turned the corner onto the education hall, I could hear the low rumblings of several male voices. I'd almost passed the empty classroom when I heard Amata's voice.
"I said no, Butch!" I stopped in my tracks, surely they couldn't be…