A WIP fanfiction. This is my first one, so its use is more introductory than serious. I have attempted to make it lore-friendly, though it may not be.

2041:

The Vault Tec van slowly left the backside carport, hampered by the many other cars leaving for the day.

"Why'd ya have to make us leave right at closing time?" Expressed the man on the right, who had realised the folly of holding onto the wheel and was now pointing both arms in an unspecific direction. The man on the left said nothing. Mainly for the fact that he had been saying something for the past few minutes, and that had the amazing effect of prolonging the conversation. A third occupant sat in the back, wishing that there was window he could look out of.

"There. We're outside. Now can you just drive us to where we need to be?"

"Next time, get the damn paperwork before you attempt to leave the office, and we can get on the road in less than the 20 bloody minutes it took us!"

This conversation consisted of most of the ride, the occupants already knowing exactly what they had to do at the place, and thus not needing to mention it. The place they were driving to was in the left centre of Washington D.C. It was a small grey factory, with a few clean windows showing off frontal hallways, disguising the factory inside without really disguising it. The interesting thing about this factory, and the company itself, was that it had no discernible advertising. Nothing on the front of the building gave any suggestion to its purpose.

That was because its owner, James Lavin, preferred to advertise it himself. He periodically visited major businesses around with a card and a request for more work. This practice earnt his company, which only really had a working title, into Lavin's Co. The company was modestly sized, having only a few factories, each of them holding the same base layout. It did a few odd jobs for Chryslus Motors Corporation, General Atomics International, and Pulvulski preservation shelter.

This last one gained the attention of Vault Tec. This was due to it being relatively unknown outside of a group of people who liked it unknown. So, it sent a group of people to put in a few orders. Originally it was going to be a few senior managers, but it ended up being delegated down to a group of sales representatives.

The van parked in a parking lot a block from the factory, and the representatives made the journey on foot. Lavin expected this, and thus had a small desk outside the back entrance, with a makeshift corrugated iron roof to protect the paperwork. Next to it were a few benches, where employees were taking their lunch break. One of them stepped up to the desk as the sales reps. approached.

"Vault Tec Ai? Sign the form and go to the office in the middle."

Lavin had thoroughly invested the money achieved by his contracts to extending and suppling his factory. It was made up of a factory floor, where monotone machinery resided, and a large pathway of multi-floored catwalks connecting to islands of lighter contraptions and open-air offices. A concrete shack rose up in the middle of this area, with a few wire glass windows and four support pillars sticking out of the corners. The office's interiors reflected the rest of the factory. The same desk, the same furniture. Back-ends of machinery and administrative control panels gave life to the concrete walls, yet it was the sort of life that was overlapping the opposite. Controlled, polluted, stiffening life.

"Paperwork?"

"Right here"

He recounted bad memories of the past hour as he passed the paperwork. Lavin stuck it on a nearby clipboard and observed it.

"There's a few good furn'ture stores around the area if you want that many tables."

The other sales rep. removed a "special project" which a friend in the research departments had palmed off to him.

"We need'is frame, yet out oth'a contractor's full. We don't like wastin' our contractors, sso ya get the tabl's as well.'

"If you need more factories, just fill out this form."

The first sales rep stacked another pile of paper on the desk.

"We might need more tables in the future."

Lavin removed the clipboard from the pile, and filled out some approval notes as the representatives picked up the pages.

"Take this to the office on the far left, and put it in the in-box in the middle. Someone will pick it up later."

Lavin immediately hired a few guards. He also ordered some more materials, and bought a new factory near Abernathy.

I'm expecting about four more chapters after this one. If you have any suggestions or feedback, please express them. Thanks.