Hello fellow fanfiction fans

.My first fanfic here, going to be ongoing, and may be a while between chapters, RL does intrude at the most inconvenient times.

Anyway, as per the summary, going to be largeish, following the basic storyline, with new characters, and tweaks to old ones, new scenarios, possibly new locations, romance in the future, but not for a while and o course lots a violence that we know, love and expect from fallout :D

I wanted this to be a story of the wasteland as a whole, not just focused on the LW, with more fleshing out of selected characters, and to do that, for at least a while, the chapters are going to be around the same length that they have been, and the story is going to proceed at the pace of a day or in instances a scene equating to a chapter.

Most of those who are reading this will have played the game and IMO, the LW could not come out of the vault and be a cold blooded killer for a start, not to mention that life in the wasteland is not life in the vault, and that there has to be a period of re-adjustment, both mental and physical, both in relation to his willingness to kill, as well as his ability to kill in addition to the daily life changes, i.e. radiation around every corner, water being a highly valued commodity etc.

The LW is therefore going to grow as a character as the story progresses changing from a vault dweller into a wastelander, with all that that entails.

Hope you enjoy the first chapter, please review, would love any comments, suggestions, critiques, feedback or just weather you liked it or not, as this is my first fanfic ever.

OOOOOOOOOO

Stepping through the rough wooden screen that served as the semi hidden entry way to the Vault, Alexander was forced to tightly close his eyes, although even that proved not enough to stop the pain that had exploded into his brain as the dazzling bright light assaulted his sense of sight. Slamming his hands over his eyelids helped to damped the glare that was piercing his vision enough so that after a few minutes he was able to crack his fingers open and squint through them to try and accustom his eyes to the new world that was spread out in front of him.

To the right, a wall of rock rose above, with a small dead bush a little down the path that existed between another, smaller rock wall on the left. Scanning left, he saw what could only be a tree, albeit long dead, and probably rotten, it was still the tallest plant he had ever seen, the ones in the vault being tiny in comparison to what this one must have been in its prime. Near by the dead tree, was another smaller, though just as dead bush.

Looking out from the elevation that the vault exit had deposited him on, the next thing that Alexander saw was what could only be a pre-war water tank. It was the most immediate object that drew the eye, standing on six posts, it must have risen 50 feet above the ground,. Then the sky. The sky! Alexander could feel the awesomeness of the sky threatening to overwhelm him, it seemed to be everywhere, and while it was not the bright blue that the history vids had shown it to be in the vault, but rather a duller, faded blue, it still seemed endless. The orangish / white fluffy things in the distance would be clouds, a part of his brain that wasn't dumbfounded supplied. Then in the further distance, a tall spire caught his attention. It seemed to be square, but with a pyramid on top of it,

Immediately in front, but at a lower elevation, Alexander saw a barren landscape, filled with rocks and dirt, with very few signs that a civilized people had ever been there, but then as he started moving forward down the path, his attention was drawn to the left and a panorama of decaying building filled his vista.

"Amazing" He thought to himself "This is incredible, fantastic, unreal"

Moving his feet in an almost somnambulant way, Alexander began to make his way down the path, but paused before following it all the way down to step off to the left onto a ridge that afforded a magnificently horrid panorama.

"What the hell is that?" He wondered to himself, looking over a few skeletons of houses at a large red rocket, much like the ones he had seen on computer monitors in the vault that had been described at space travelling vehicles.

Alexander couldn't think, but could only stare dumbly over the scene that was laid out in front of him. Minutes passed, hours? He wasn't sure how long he had stayed just looking at a view no-one from the vault had ever seen before his father had left less than 24 hours ago.

"Did dad stop and stare at this view?" He asked himself, a question which jolted Alexander out of his revere and refocused him. The next fact that slammed home was that the sky was getting dark, he could no longer see the tall square pyramid topped spire in the distance, and he cursed himself for his lack of self control, and the situation that he had gotten himself into.

"What now idiot?" He asked himself. "A safe place to rest, to wait until daylight, time to make plans, and scope out more of the immediate surrounds, food." he answered himself.

A large white almost full globe had risen in the pre-night sky. "The moon, a thing of beauty in what is supposed to be hell." Alexander thought.

Wrenching his eyes away from the moon, his gaze came to rest yet again on the water tower, and an idea began to form, a smile creased his face.

Active now, and moving with an objective in mind, Alexander started off down the path again, aiming for the water tower, and the possibility of safety that it presented. Stepping off the small hill that the vault had been buried in, he began walking over a solid, back surface, and almost immediately found a steel cage on wheels with an opening in the top.

"Perfect, this'll help" He told himself, and after righting the contraption onto it's three remaining wheels, began unloading the few pieces of spare vault guard armour and helmets, batons and pistols that had come with him out of the vault into the wheeled cage.

Following the black top path way to the north seemed the best option, as there was a pool of water which was giving off rads according to his pipboy to the south, and so pushing the trolley, Alexander set off, following the path north and around and down to the east, towards the rocket he had seen earlier. After a few minutes, it occurred to Alexander that the trolley was not all it seemed to be, having a mind of its own as to which direction it wanted to go in, and any little bump in the path tended to immobilise it.

"It's a battle of wills." Alexander told himself, as he pushed the damned trolley ever onwards towards his objective. Eventually making it to the bottom of the small hill that he had begun on, dismay set in as he saw the water tower was not going to be reached by way of the black topped pathway, and sighed mightily as he began to unload his few belongings and trudge towards the tower.

After a few minutes Alexander reached a wire fence that surrounded the tower, and quickly located the gate the let him in to examine the structure. Opening the gate, he walked around the base of the tower, noticing that there were a few missing pieces of metal in the supporting legs, and that the whole had a red, dusty, flaky tinge to it. Picking at a length of steel, Alexander was surprised how easy a small sliver flaked off in his fingers.

"Rust : A general term for a series of iron oxides, formed by the reaction of iron and oxygen in the presence of water or air moisture. Given sufficient time, oxygen, and water, any iron mass will eventually convert entirely to rust and disintegrate." The voice in his head told him, in perfect imitation of Ian Mitchell, his engineering instructor back in the Vault. Ian has been a guiding light to Alexander, along with his father and Jonas, guiding the young Alexander into reading about a variety of subjects, learning as much as possible about as many different subjects as interested him, from a variety of different views and sources. Alexander had spent a lot of time with the vault engineer instructor, mainly when his father and Jonas were working, as a young boy was a distraction and a potential hazard in the situations that Jonas and his father worked in on a daily basis.

Ian was also responsable for the basic working knowledge Alexander had of Mnemonic memory enhancing techniques, having given the young boy groupings, acronym's and link systems to work on and explained the principle of the memory palace to him. Alexander had been fascinated by the idea of having a room full of objects in his mind, that he could lock knowledge, trivia, and scenes to and visit whenever he wanted to, and had, with the guidance of Ian, with approval from his father, who also used mnemonics, began to construct his memory palace. His palace was an old abandoned storage room on the engineering level of the vault, in which he had started placing items from daily life in the vault, then spending hours visually memorizing the layout, until he was able to recall the exact image at will. Rust had been placed in the memory palace after he had left a screwdriver lying in a small puddle of water that had condensed on the outside of the bottle of Cola he had been drinking while working on a small radio, a project Ian had set him to try to diagnose what was wrong with it and fix if he could. Alexander had been careless and rushed out of the workshop at the 5 pm buzzer, racing to meet Amata for a promised walk through the Vault's arboretum.

Returning after the 3 day layover that had been part of his working cycle, Alexander had been confronted by Ian, and the screwdriver that had flecks of surface rust on it and told to learn about rust, and its detremintal effect on steel, and to place this knowledge in his memory palace. The screwdriver was never placed in the vault's storage room, but became the first item to be stored in his mind without the need for visual stimuli to access the knowledge.

" Looks stable enough" he thought, but gave the posts that held it up as much of a shake as his body could manage at the moment, tensing in case the whole lot came crashing down on top of him. The ladder the led to the top of the tower seemed to be sturdy as well, with only the occasional rung missing, and as the light was almost completely gone by this time, Alexander decided that this was as good a place as any. He put on the jacket that Butch had given him over the security armour that he had donned in the vault over his jumpsuit, tucked a baton into his belt next to the 10mm pistol holster, put on the security helmet, slung the small bag of personal items that he had brought with him over his shoulder and put his foot on the first rung, and began to climb, reasoning that he could leave the rest of his stuff hidden behind one of the concrete feet that the posts of the tower were embedded in.

About 20 feet up the ladder, and with the last of the daylight just about gone, the wasteland that was Washington D.C. gave him his first taste of the extremes that it could go to, whipping up a brisk breeze that had a definite chill to it. It whipped his deep red hair that ended just out of the helmet he was waring, and seemed to penetrate his clothes and go straight to his bones, making him shudder. Almost to the top, and the wind had picked up speed, and Alexander reached for the next rung, gripping it just as the rung he was stepping off gave way, and dropped him to a jarring halt at arms length, both legs dangling.

"Damn it, shit, friggin hell!" He cursed out loud, as the rung clanked it's way down to the ground. Wriggling his legs, lifting them trying to find a rung for his feet, he quickly glanced down, and remembered that his feet were at a section of the ladder that were missing about 5 rungs in succession. Gritting his teeth, and groaning with the effort after a long day, Alexander dragged his body up the next few rungs with arm strength only until he could get a foot hold, which brought him almost to the top of the tower. With a last effort, he hauled himself over the edge of the tower onto the top, and lay on his stomach, breathing heavily, panting for a few minutes, waiting until the adrenaline rush that had spurred him over faded, and he trusted his body not to fall over if he stood up.

Finally, pushing himself up, Alexander stood up and looked around the top of the water tower. It was slightly domed, and he quickly found a circular, hinged opening with a convenient handle to open it up. Putting both hands on the handle, and lifting proved not an easy option, as after years of disuse, it had almost sealed itself shut completely. Straightening up and groaning, he cracked his knuckles and bent his back to the task once again, a low expulsion of effort, along with a quiet expletive escaped his lips until finally with the squeal of metal on metal, the lid cracked an inch. After a short spell, Alexander got back up, put his fingers into the crack that he had achieved, and started to lift again, with the metal screeching even louder this time, and causing his ears to ring, and his head to pound, but he persevered until the opening was wide enough so that he would be able to wriggle his way into the interior.

Pausing again to catch his breath, it belatedly occurred to Alexander that the noise he had just made must have been heard far and wide, and that perhaps stealth and speed might not at this moment be a bad idea. Following that thought, he scrambled back to the opening he had just made, and using the light on his pipboy, poked his head and arm into the interior of the tank and finding what he had been hoping for, a dry, completely empty round room that would suit his purposes for the night. Pulling out, and entering feet first this time, Alexander lowered himself to full arms length and with the light from his pipboy still glowing, saw that the floor was less than a foots drop so he let go.

Landing on the metal floor, Alexander once again sunk to the floor, his legs no longer able to support himself. Then the shaking began, starting with his hands as he tried to open the backpack that Amata had given him before he left, and compounded by thoughts of Amata, the vault and his father, the shaking flowed through his body, followed by great wracking sobs that came from nowhere, but now that they were let loose, flowed freely. Images of his father flashed through his mind as he curled up in a ball, still shaking with the strength of the emotions pouring out.

OOOOOOOOOO

Elsewhere

The old man sat in his soft padded chair, patting his silver hair down. It was a habit, not a nervous habit, no, because the old man made people nervous, but was not subject to nerves himself. Across the small table between them, a young blond woman in her mid twenties sat, with legs crossed and arms folded beneath her breasts, staring straight at the old man. If she was suffering any nerves herself, the old man thought, she was hiding them well.

A smile creased its way across his features as he thought that, and he leaned forward to pour another whisky shot for himself and his guest.

"Hmmm, drink up my dear, here's to our agreement, and the beginning of a long... association between us."

The blond woman kept eye contact for a few seconds after that last comment, wondering when he was going to try and get into her pants, and how she was going to be able to resist throwing up all over him if he did try it.

"'Association' , God I hope he means only that and he's not really seriously thinking about anything like that."

The woman thought to herself. "I don't need some ancient old fart who probably can't even get it up slobbering all over me at this point, just the caps for this job, than I'm done with this "association"".

Realizing that she had been silent for too long, and that he still held his shot glass raised and full, the woman leaned forward and picked up her glass.

"To our association." She replied, and tossed the fiery amber liquid to the back of her throat, trying to avoid the burning of her tongue that came with drinking not only spirits, which she normally avoided, but slightly irradiated spirits at that.

"So where is the package that you want me to deliver then, I want to be getting prepared to move out tomorrow?" The woman asked.

"Ah, the haste of youth," The old man commented, "Very well, I actually have a couple of packages I wish for you to drop off my dear. One goes to... "

"Two? The deal was for one old man, if your gonna change the job I came to do without prior knowledge, it's gonna cost you more you know." She butted in, not really caring for this last minute change of plans. Her eyebrows pinched down, as she frowned at the man in the chair across from her, aware that she was showing a degree of anger, and also acutely aware of the presence of an armed man standing at the door, now a little more straighter and focused on her for her outburst.

"Hmmm, very well then, I will add fifty percent to the agreed on price then if you insist, would that be acceptable?" He responded, languidly waving a hand in the general direction of the guard, who on his signal relaxed a little, but kept his eyes on the blond woman, and his hand near his sidearm.

"Double." Was the woman's only reply, trying to maintain eye contact, though it wasn't easy with this man, because while he looked and talked like a grandfather, she knew him to be ruthless, quite able to wield a blade and very willing. Not including his willingness to pay others to preform his dirty work, which according to rumors was why the tent town that had grown up around the ruins of Girdershade had been burned to the ground fifteen years ago. Quietly she wondered if she had overplayed her hand and tried to soften her glare, while still maintaining eye contact with the old man.

"Hm hm hm hm hm hm" Chuckled the old man, smiling toothily at the woman, imagining just what it would feel like to wrap his hands around that pretty smooth throat and to choke the life out of the pompous bitch. For a few seconds he considered signaling his guard to restrain her while he did just that, but rejected the idea, she could be useful for now, and still be fodder for his desires later, after the mission had been completed.

"Seventy five percent, and not a cap more my dear," Was what he actually said, pausing a moment, waiting until she opened her mouth before continuing "I advise you not to push the limits of what I am prepared to tolerate ... My dear."

Choking on the eighty five she was about to respond with, the woman smoothly tilted her head forward and to the side, in acknowledgement.

"Agreed then, seventy five percent above the agreed price, for two deliveries instead of one. Now where are these packages and where do you want them delivered to?" She asked, wary that she may have stepped over a line, and wanting to be elsewhere at this moment.

Still smiling, the old man again waved at his guard, noticing as he did so that she visibly tensed up, looking like she was thinking fight or flight. "Relax my dear, I am not going to have you murdered, mmm, you are willing to provide a service for me, and killing you now would mean I would have to wait for another willing carrier, mmm and that is a waste of time that I am not prepared to make. I can be gracious in success you know mmm.

While the old man was talking the guard had leaned back and knocked on the door, a signal, for almost immediately it opened, and a man stepped through with a tray, which he placed on the small table between them, cocking his head towards the old man and hefting the whiskey bottle questionaly, and on receiving an affirmative nod, poured another pair of shots in to the glasses before setting the bottle down and moving away, to take up position to the left and behind the old mans chair.

The woman looked at the tray, seeing a small six by four by three inch package wrapped in old faded paper, some with words still legible under the grime, and an envelope. Looking up with a steady gaze, the woman locked eyes again with the old man and raised an eyebrow.

"So, a package and a letter," The woman said "Which to where, and to who?"

Leaning forward and picking up the envelope the old man turned it over in his hands, revealing a red wax blob covering the fold of the envelope. "Take care not to let this open my dear mmm,"

He again smiled at the woman, and she felt her skin crawl, and wished this interview or whatever it was was over and done so she be on her way, she had people in her own life that she actually wanted to see, and spending time with this ancient abomination was draining her.

"If this letter arrives at it's recipient with this seal broken, I am afraid I cannot vouch for your continued safety my dear, and as it is the first delivery, I am concerned that my second package will go undelivered, so take care with it, you understand me?" A curt nod is the only response received so he continues. "There is a woman in a small settlement of Andale, you know where that is I presume, mmm?" Another nod and the man continues, "Her name is Martha Wilson, and the letter goes to her and only her. You must confirm the identity of Martha Wilson by asking her the name of a decent eating establishment in Megaton, and getting the correct response of 'The Brass Tavern' before handing over the letter."

Placing the envelope on the table the man taps the paper wrapped package. "This goes to an associate of mine in Megaton. To make contact with my associate in Megaton go to an establishment called the brass lantern every evening when the sun is nearing the horizon, and wait for someone to engage you in conversation. My associate will mention being from Andale, and will mention a woman there by the name of Martha Wilson, calling her 'an old hag'. This is to ensure that my package goes to the right person. Do you understand all those instructions?"

Dumbly staring at the transformation the old man had undergone, from grandfatherly to focused all business like in relaying her instructions, the woman was again surprised by the different faces the old man could seemingly adopt and discard at will. Mentally shaking herself, the woman realised that he was waiting for some kind of response.

"Yes, completely. Neither seems to be a problem, straight forward delivery run." She managed.

"Excellent. Now if you are interested, on arrival in Megaton and delivery of the package, my associate may have work for you in the town, work which will be paid for by my associate, but any order's he gives, if you chose to continue to work for us, must be obeyed as if I gave them. You do not have to answer now, rather think on my proposition, and wait until you arrive in Megaton to make your decision."

Again the woman nods. "Ha, not friggen likely old man, once I drop these packages off, as far as I am concerned any 'association' between you, your 'associate' and me is at an end, and not soon enough."

"Good, good." The old man nods, seemingly satisfied with the results the meeting has had, the toothy smile re appearing on his face, he reaches down to the table and picks up his glass. "Again to our association, may it be long and prosperous for us both my dear hmmm." Again wishing for anything but whisky in her glass the woman leans forward and picks up her glass, raises it in toast to their 'association' and throws the liquid to the back of her throat.

"With the drink burning it's way to her stomach, the woman slowly rises, still aware that there is an armed guard behind her, and another man, though acting the part of servant, probably as skilled in weaponry as the guard behind the man and stretches he arms above her head. "Well, now that we have an agreement, I feel the need for some sleep before today becomes tomorrow. Do I take the packages now, or pick them up before I leave in the morning?"

"You can take them now, my dear, as well as full payment in advance, the agreed amount plus seventy five percent." Waving the servant forward the old man speaks again "My man here will supply payment before you retire for the night. Hmmm, goodnight my dear."