Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story of any significant size. I already have some of it written, but I was kind of on the fence about publishing it. With that being said, I do not own any rights to Fallout or any of the characters, etc. If I did, I would be taking a bath in a tub full of money. I have included my character's bio before the story begins. Honestly, I couldn't find a good way to incorporate them into the actual story. With that being said, please enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.
Character Bio:
Name: Mark Franklin
Physical Description: Caucasian, 6' 2", 225 lbs. Shaggy brown hair, goatee, Blue eyes
Armor & Weapons: Green Ranger Combat Armor, 10 mm pistol, Assault Rifle
"Mark, you're a hero…and you have to leave." Mark stood there in silence, dumbfounded. Of all the things he expected Amata to say to him, this was probably at the bottom of the list. Here he was, standing in his dad's old clinic in Vault 101, surrounded by all of his old classmates. The clinic was a lot dirtier than he remembered. There were mattresses and food wrappers all over the floor. The "rebels," as they had been dubbed, had been holed up here for at least a month, if not more, in a standoff with the Overseer over wanting to at minimum to explore the possibility of opening the vault to outside trade. Mark had just had a nice chat with Alphonse Almodovar, the Overseer, and Amata's father, about how the vault would not survive if they did not open up. Eventually, there would not be enough viable DNA to continue repopulating. As a result, Alphonse had just appointed Amata as Overseer.
Now, the girl that was his only friend his own age in the vault, who had been his friend since before they could talk, was throwing him out. He heard her say these words, but it took a moment for his brain to register them. "What do you mean, I have to leave?" asked Mark, still somewhat in shock. "Look," said Amata, with a hint of pain in her voice, "I appreciate what you've done for me, and for all of us. Now that I'm Overseer, we can finally open the vault for trade. Unfortunately, there are still some people down here that blame you and your father for what happened when the both of you escaped. Believe me, I am not one of them. The vault is fractured right now, and I need to heal it. You being here isn't going to help." There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Wally Mack, a kid Mark despised for as long as he could remember, said, "You and your dad caused us nothing but trouble. You need to get the hell out and never come back!" Before anyone knew what happened, Mark had walked over to Wally, grabbed him by the throat with his right hand, lifted him up, and shoved him against the wall. Jaws dropped around the room. Mark wouldn't have been able to do that before he left the Vault. Amata caught herself staring at Mark's muscular arms and blushed. Luckily, attention was diverted away from her. 'Dammit,' she thought, 'now is not the time to be acting like a horny schoolgirl.'
Mark had Wally pinned up against the wall, and Wally's face was bulging slightly as he tried unsuccessfully to break Mark's grip. Mark got mere inches from Wally's face, and Mark's face was red with anger. "Listen, you little piece of crap, you do not insult my father. My father was a great and honorable man, and has done things you couldn't possibly be able to comprehend. You and your father have no goddamn honor. Kissing up to the overseer every chance he got. I could snap your neck right now without breaking a sweat. Hell, I could-." "Mark!" He turned around and looked at Amata. She had her arms crossed and she looked angry. "Let him go." Mark looked at Wally for a few seconds, and then let him go. Wally dropped to the floor, breathing heavily, and looking at Mark with fear in his eyes. Mark turned away and walked over to Amata, grabbing his green duffel bag as he went. "Can I talk to you in private?" Mark said in a whisper to her. She nodded and followed Mark out of the room.
They came into a room that at one point was a classroom, but was now being used for storage. Mark turned the light on and closed the door. "You want to tell me what the point of that was Mark?" "There was no point. He's just an asshole. Trust me, I could've done much worse." "Whatever," said Amata. "You wanted to talk in private. What do you have to say?" Mark took a deep breath. "You called me here to help. I came, and I helped. Now you're kicking me out? Was this your plan the entire time? Hope that I would come back, talk some sense into your dad, you'd become the new Overseer, and then throw me out like some piece of trash? Tell me, was that it?" The entire time Mark was speaking, Amata looked at him with a straight face, but internally she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. "Do you think this is easy for me? Throwing someone out who's been a good friend to me for nearly twenty years? No, it isn't. I'm the Overseer now, and I need to do what's best for the vault."
"You know," said Mark, "if anyone else had called me, I would have just ignored it and left you guys to rot. Nearly everyone here treated me like crap for my entire life. But no, you called, and I came, because you were really my only friend down here." "Please, just listen-. " "No. I'm going to say what I need to say. Do you know what I've done out in the wastes? I nearly died so that the rest of the wasteland could have fresh water. I was in a coma for two weeks. My dad was killed by an egotistical prick from the Enclave, sacrificing himself to save me. I've hunted raiders and slavers into near extinction. I wiped the Enclave off the face of the earth. Super mutants, horrible abominations, don't exist anymore. The wastes are safer than they've ever been, and do you know why I did it? I did it all for you. It seems that none of that matters to you. You got what wanted. I thought one day, the vault could open to the rest of the world, and you could venture out without having to be afraid. I cared for you, and I thought maybe you felt the same way about me. It's clear to me now that I was wrong."
She closed her eyes, attempting to suppress the tears that were threatening to come out. "Please," she said, her voice wavering, "please leave. Don't make this any harder than it already is." Mark looked at her for a minute. "Fine, I'm leaving. I'm done with this place." Mark turned and started to walk out, when Amata said, "Mark, wait." He looked over his shoulder at her. "What?" "At least…at least let me walk you to the door." Mark looked at her for a couple of moments. "As you wish. I wouldn't expect you to leave a foreigner to find his own way out, after all," Mark said, the sarcasm dripping off of his voice. They walked towards the entrance. As the passed by the clinic, Mark could feel the stares of everyone looking at them, but he didn't turn his head. They walked in silence for a few minutes, going through the maintenance section and finally reaching the door. "You know," said Amata, trying to add some levity to the situation, "this was a lot easier than the last time we had to do this, remember?" Mark's expression did not change as he looked at her. "Just open the damn door." She shook her head. "Fine," she said, walking over to the control panel, entering a code and pulling the lever. The alarm went off, and the door screeched open.
Once the door was open, Mark started to walk through. "Wait," said Amata, "you're not even gonna say goodbye? This could be the last time we could see each other for who knows how long." Mark stopped and turned around. Amata looked into his eyes, those electric blue eyes that she remembered being so full of life, and sometimes she got lost in, more often than she cared to admit. They were cold and dead, and his stare sent a chill up her spine. "No. I actually do have something else to say, though. Don't call me again. I'm not coming back if things don't turn out the way that you'd hoped. As far as I'm concerned, you and I, we're done." He waved his hands in front of his face. He then opened his bag, pulled out a book and tossed it on the ground near her feet. "That's all the help with the wasteland you'll be getting from me. Congratulations, Overseer. You deserve everything that's coming to you."
Mark turned and walked back down the tunnel that led outside, listening to the vault door close behind him. He stepped out into the night air, and looked over the desolate wasteland. He took the assault rifle off of his back and started firing into the sky until the clip was empty. He then threw down the gun and roared as loud as he could, the roar of someone in pain. Meanwhile, Amata just stared at the now-closed door for a couple of minutes. She realized that the book Mark had tossed was still at her feet. She picked it up and examined it. It had a dirty white cover and binding, and on the cover it read "Wasteland Survival Guide," and below that it read "Authored by Moira Brown and Researched by Mark Franklin." She held the book to her chest, and then as calmly as she could, she started walking and didn't stop until she reached her room. Once inside, she locked the door, put the book on her nightstand, and turned off the light. She then fell on her bed, and cried herself to sleep.
I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I always felt they could have done so much more with the "Trouble on the Homefront" quest, so I put a lot of thought into how I thought it could have gone down. Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Mark's 10 mm pistol is the same one that Amata give you during the "Escape" quest. Until next time.