Authors Ramblings

Hello and welcome to well…this…whatever the heck it is. As of typing the first authors note, I have written about three and a half chapters of this fanfic. This is the very first fan fiction I have actually put on paper (I've had a few half-baked ideas in my head but didn't write them down). I'll be honest; I'm writing this more for my entertainment than yours so don't try and message me moaning about how you think it sucks, even though it probably does suck (ain't I just humble?).

Anyway, I don't have any plans for Fallout: Wayward. I don't know how long it will go on, I don't even know much about what's going to happen next in the story. I'm still in high school so If this fic does get popular; don't expect me to become Über-commited to it because I won't have the time. Oh, and one more thing: Don't expect it to be too canon, I do what I want.

For those not acquainted with Fallout

In case this little story becomes a school project or something of the sort where some readers may not understand the lingo, I'm going to give you the basics of the Fallout universe. So if you already know it skip on to chapter one. You may want to keep this author's note open in another tab if you are unfamiliar with Fallout.

Basic History

The year is 2077; our technology is super-advanced like we'd expect it to be in the future. We have laser guns, robots, and radioactive soda, and somehow we went from awesome personal computers and internet to using terminals. The world has taken on a 50's style culture and, just like in the 50's, another cold war with China. Only this time, we let the cold war elevate to a real war, complete with nuclear weapons. We launch these nukes at each other and the world ends . BUT, in order to save humanity, a corporation named Vault-Tec (the makers of everything that uses electricity) built dozens of underground fallout shelters called Vaults.Vaults are self-sufficient and can support life for eons. Sadly, Vault-Tec was evil and corrupt so the Vaults' inhabitants were subject to strange and sometimes cruel social experiments. Year 2277-ish; the world is a wasteland filled with bandits, thieves, murders, and hope for the salvation of humanity is all but lost.

Vocabulary

PIP-boy: (Personal Information Processor) A handy device given to the inhabitants of the Vaults, it is a computer worn on the left wrist. It can make a map of everything you see, detect radiation, pick up radio, display your current medical information, and can administer stimpacks and combat drugs. It also give you a head-up display (H.U.D.) that can detect other creatures and mark their intent toward you (red for hostile, yellow for neutral or friendly.)

V.A.T.S.: It stands for Vault-Tec Auto Targeting System, it can increase your reflexes momentarily to the point where it seems time is stopped. You can queue up shots from your (energy gun, melee weapon, firearm, etc.) into your enemies specific body parts. It only works a few times before it needs to recharge, so the operator needs to use V.A.T.S. wisely.

Overseer: The absolute ruler of a Vault. The Overseer's job is to insure domestic tranquility; his/her word is law to the Vault-dwellers. Some Overseers take the name of their job literally and just oversee; some take the name figuratively and become dictators of their vault. Funny isn't it? Dictators are like roaches; not even nuclear war will kill them.

Stimpacks: Almost magical syringes of god-knows-what that can instantly disinfect and close up wounds. These are a commodity

Rad: anything that begins with "Rad" usually has to do with radiation. i.e. Rad-X helps you resist radiation while Rad-Away removes it. "Rads" are the measure of how much radiation someone has absorbed.

Guns and Ammo: I will be using lots of gun-based words. For example; numbers like 5.56 and .357 refer to ammo, For example: 9mm *blank* refers to something that fires 9mm rounds ("mm" stands for millimeter or ".cal" stands for caliber).

So… yeah that's it...Go read.

I do not own Fallout

It is owned by Bethesda

But if I did, wouldn't that be awesome?!

Chapter 1: Vault 75

Here I go again on my own

Goin' down the only road I ever known

Like a drifter I was born to walk alone…

- Whitesnake

Boredom

That's all I've ever had in this Vault. Most of my days were spent bouncing a faded red ball across the grey walls of the maintenance hall, waiting for some machine somewhere in the Vault to have a breakdown so I can fill my time by fixing it. I'm one of the only two repairmen living in this wonderfully dull bunker. It was just me and my mentor, Frank.

I've always wondered if the people who did my job before me did it better, maybe Vault 75 would've lasted longer.

My name is Vincent and I've had a miserable existence in this hole. To start, I was short compared to…well… everyone I knew who wasn't five years younger than me. Most of the teens and adults in here were six-foot-something while I stood about five-foot-three, weighing in at 130 pounds. I was a white guy with dirty blonde hair cut short, people have always told me I look like Vault-Tec's mascot; Vault Boy

When I took my G.O.A.T. (that's Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test) I was doomed to this life of boredom after I got the results. The damn thing assigned me to "Vault Handyman". For those of you who don't know; Vault-Tec built these things to last hundreds of years, so a machinery failure was a relatively rare thing. So my days were filled with me sitting on my skinny ass and bouncing my red ball across the room.

Thud...…Thud…...Thud…

My less-than-joyful bouncing was interrupted by the sound of an alarm; coming from the maintenance hall's terminal. I practically skipped over to that little grey box, happier to hear that alarm than I should be. That siren meant something was broken, something for me to fix. The normal green glow of the computer was gone, replaced by red. This was not normal. The screen flashed:

-ERROR-

Malfunction: Radiation Generator

Hazardous Material Leak

REQUIRES IMEADIATE REPAIR

"Awww hell!" I moaned as I read the words on the screen. You see, Vault 75 was part of a Vault-Tec experiment. We were given something no other Vault had: a radiation-powered – generator. It was in a room close to the surface world. That way when we run out of power one day we'll know the rads are gone, signaling that it's time to come out of hiding. Sadly, Vault-Tec's scientists predicted that the radiation won't last as long as it did; it managed to outlast our generator (Good going guys). It had only managed to malfunction once thirty-three years ago, back when Frank was an apprentice like me.

"Uh Fraaaank, we've got a problem!" I said with obvious fear in my voice. "Ah hear the 'larm!" Frank grumbled from the adjacent room. Seconds later, he stood in the doorway. Frank was around six feet tall, like everyone else in the Vault besides me, although he was one of the few overweight people living here. He had dark red, scraggly hair and a large moustache that went from ear to ear. He seemed cheerful to have something to fix "What's the problem Vin?" he asked "What needs fixin'?" I pointed to the glowing green terminal, his normal good mood faded, replaced with panic. "We gotta go tell the Overseer!" he shouted as he rushed out the door. I followed him out, stopping only to hit the bright orange button labeled Panic Button: use only for emergencies. This was an emergency.

We ran through or home's atrium, the inhabitants of vault 75, all clad in the blue and yellow uniforms, were following standard emergency procedure by rushing to their respective rooms and locking the doors. Most of them were panicking (hence why it's called the panic button), some pulling their children behind them. We burst into our overseer's quarters (Which is kind of hard since the doors in Vault 75 open when they detect motion).

The overseer greeted us with her usual loud, gravelly voice. "Just what in the hell is going on here?!" she boomed angrily "I didn't authorize any emergency drills!" She was in her mid-thirties, wearing a more ornate version of the Vault's uniform, the kind reserved for the overseer; it had a big yellow 75 on the back. Her brown, curly hair hung down to her broad shoulders, she was (like most people in our Vault) six feet tall and mad as hell.

"Lauren, calm down," said Frank "this is serious, the RadGen…" The Overseer's eyes widened "You shall address me as Miss or Overseer! And what the hell do you mean leak?!" Frank was a normally hard to anger person, but he was too serious to hold his temper. "I'm your god damned elder so I'll call you whatever I want, and by "leak" I mean all of our lives are in danger! Moron! This is not the time to sit around with our thumbs in our asses! The fucking Radiation Generator is critical!"

She drew breath for a rebuttal but our Overseer knew Frank was right. She let out that breath in a sigh "…I assume you'll need the keys to the armory and storage?" She said as she dug through her large, C-shaped desk. "This better not a false alarm, or I will turn you both inside-out" She was glaring daggers at us. I grinned a nervous grin "Got it."

We used the card keys the Overseer gave us to access the supplies need to fix the Rad-Generator. Both of us dawned bright yellow suits. These getups supposedly help us resist radiation. God knows we need them because it was extremely radioactive in the generator room.

"Here, swallow this." Frank said as he picked a small pill from a tin on the shelf next to the radiation suits. "What is…ah Rad-X." I said as I accepted and downed the red and yellow pill. Rad-X temporarily altered the body to bounce back radiation; coupled with the suits we were relatively safe from the rads.

Frank put a large glass dome over his head and attached to the suit, he then attached that to a silver oxygen tank. I did the same, we would've look comical if the situation weren't so damn grim.

What is so friggin' bad about a Rad-Generator leak? You may ask. I'll tell you; if the generator leaks enough of its fluids it could get into the Vault and poison everything in it. Not to mention the fact that the power could soon go out leaving us to rely on the backup generator, which only lasted five years. Five years? That's a long time! You might think that as well, but five years is nothing in Vault Years. Vault 75 has lasted 200 years without opening up. That's a short nap for the Vault. Oh, and that's still five years with radioactive poison seeping into the water supply.

From the armory, we pulled a pair of nine-millimeter pistols and a box of 9mm rounds (F.Y.I. rounds means bullets in gun geek-talk). We needed these pistols because last time the generator needed fixing, there were roaches. Not the run-of-the-mill cockroaches you'd find in your pantry, mind you. These things were the size of footballs, and big enough to take a big bite out of an average-sized person.

My eyes lit up at the sight of the two shiny guns. In high school, I had signed up for the Wasteland Survival course. It included the basics in first-aid, theoretical wasteland economy, what to eat in the wastes (and what not), theories in mutations, and my favorite: guns and ammo. I admittedly slept through economy and first-aid, but I had a strange fascination with guns so I was wide awake learning about them.

Frank handed one to me I handled the gun carefully, following all the safety precautions. Checking the chamber, clip, safety, and holstering it. "Let's go."

Soon, we stood in front of the door unofficially dubbed The Rad-Lock. It was like an airlock, but with rads. The door was seven feet high, 4 feet across, and made completely out of lead, the sinister black contrasting with the Vault's grey walls

. "Ok kid," Frank's voice crackled through the intercom in my suit "We've got thirty minutes of air in these things. Better work quick." I nodded, my forehead pressing against the glass helmet.

I slid my access card into the receiver next to the door; it's unlocking confirmed with a muffled hissssss. I stood back, waiting for the door to swing open….but it didn't.

Frank chucked through the intercom "it's a manual, so ya gotta to use your stringy arms!" I clicked on my intercom and gave him a sarcastic laugh "Haw haw haw, very funny. Now help me open this thing."

We both grabbed the black handles protruding from the lead door and pulled with all our might (ok using the word might is kind of an exaggeration, one of us being scrawny and the other overweight), the door eventually gave way and granted us access to the dark chamber beyond it.

The room we entered was a circular all black chamber with another door identical to the one we just handled. "Another one?!" I moaned, forgetting to push the talk button. "Whad'ja say?" said my mentor. I remembered to push the button this time "I said; another door?" "Yeah." came his response "Close the one behind ya."

I did as he asked; thankfully it was easier to close than open. We repeated the process with the next door; as soon as we cracked it our PIP-Boys started clicking. It read: +1R/Sec (meaning I gained one point of radiation every second I stood there).

"Shit," said Frank "the rads aren't confined to the main generator room… there was a long pause "This is one hellofa leak." We started walking down the hall toward the generator. I noticed the walls were black instead of Vault-grey, making the hall appear darker than it actually was (half of the lights were burnt out, so it was still so dark that we needed to activate the lamps on our PIP-Boys).

"Hey, look at this." I said shining my glowing green lamp to the ceiling. It had a rusted hole in it about four feet wide. All I could see inside it was darkness. "What do ya think?" I asked over the radio. "Probably the RadRoaches," He crackled over the intercom "those buggars could chew through solid steel." He paused "No pun intended." I was sure he was grinning in that dome of his, Frank loved puns and I think it really was intended.

As if on cue, three roaches skittered from the hole in the ceiling all at once. My H.U.D. marked them as hostile, shown by the red marks in the corner of my vision. These roaches were as Frank described them; big.

I immediately took a shooter's stance; legs spread, eyes forward, and both hands on my 9mm pistol. Frank did the same, although more slowly. I activated V.A.T.S. for the first time (I had done it previously in my years, but I didn't intend to kill anything.) and it slid into a state of time being nearly frozen. I targeted one of the Radroaches and marked three bullets into its body and one round into the antenna of the other insect next to it. I released V.A.T.S. The first three shots downed one roach and the fourth round wounded the other. Frank had killed the third Radroach with two shots into its body.

The last one alive skittered toward me, it may have been bulky for a bug but it was quick. My targeting system needed to recharge so I just fired my gun wildly at it. Most of the rounds missed but one glanced off of its exoskeleton. The bug reached me (two pieces hot lead flying hundreds of miles an hour and it's still coming?!) and tried to bite a hole in my yellow Rad-Suit. It didn't break thru though, the suit being made of heavy lead and all. I kicked that damned insect at least eight feet before Frank put a bullet in its soft underside. The Radroach stopped moving.

"Ya all right?" Frank asked. "Yeah," I replied "it tried to bite me but I'm fine." We continued down the dark hall into the main generator room. My PIP-Boy started clicking marginally faster as it read +2R/Sec, and continued even more rapidly as we reached the door to our destination.

Frank grabbed the circular handle to the door and it made an audible groaning sound as he pushed inside. Our PIPs now read +7R/Sec. (From what my classes taught me rads like that could peel flesh from the bone in under an hour).

We entered the room and it quickly became clear to both of us that hell was about to be raised. The Radiation Generator before us could either be described as "modern art" or more appropriately "Swiss cheese" because it had holes in its outer casing that I could fit my fist through. In the corner of the room lay what appeared to be a nest with smaller Radroaches crawling around it. (by smaller I meant baseball-sized instead of football-sized) The floor was covered in a lightly glowing-green half-liquid half-goo; it flowed freely from the deepest hole in the generator.

"Fuck!" I could faintly hear Frank shout through both of our helmets (no intercom needed). He proceeded to draw his gun and empty the entire clip into the roach nest, which leaked the irradiated goo. I considered doing the same, those bottom-feeders had potentially killed us all. Frank turned the radio on this time "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Those fuckers chewed through the titanium lining of the rad reservoir, I can't fix this!" He kicked the edge of the generator, his PIP-Boy spiking to +12R/Sec for a split-second. "Wait, WHAT?" I yelled "You mean it's impossible?!"

I couldn't believe it. I spent my entire life in Vault 75, for the entire time it was falling apart around me. My job was to reverse that process, to keep it running, I never failed. It had never even crossed my mind; What if…I couldn't fix it? What if one of the machines was broken for good? What would happen? I couldn't process that, but I had to. No generator means no power. No power means no life support. No life support means…well, I'll bet you can guess what that means. My entire world (which consisted of 100+ rooms of concrete and steel) was ending and it was a family of six-legged hellions that did it. I couldn't accept that.

"Wait, we- we've gotta fix it! Or, or else life couldn't go on, not for long anyway!" I pleaded to Frank over the radio. It was futile and I knew it, but I wouldn't give up. "Unless the Overseer is hiding about twenty pounds of titanium sheets and the tools to weld them this…" he gestured to the husk of a generator "…is unfixable!"

We stared in silence at the room, contemplating our dire situation; the only noises were the clicking of our PIPs. I realized that my radiation level was in the 150's; being close to having radiation poisoning I decided it was time to go. "Then I guess there's no point in being here. Let's go before we start hurling from the rads." Frank visibly sighed "The Overseers gonna be pissed."

And indeed she was pissed (with good reason!).

My mentor and I, along with the Overseer, stood in her square office again. The Overseer was throwing the mother of all fits, destroying office supplies, overturning file cabinets, throwing around the most colorful curses I've ever heard (funny thing was, she never repeated herself). She would've flipped he desk if it wasn't five times heavier than her. After a few minutes, the Overseer finally calmed down.

"Sonofabitch…alright you're the experts on radiation what do you propose we do about this?" She asked, giving us a glare that could stop someone's heart. "Evacuation." Frank replied instantly with a neutral tone. "s'what I figured." Said the Overseer

Our Overseer let out a shaky sigh. She sat at her desk and swept the remaining papers off of it, revealing a bright red button labeled Intercom. She drew a deep breath "Attention…people of Vault 75. It is my regret to inform you that our radiation generator is failing." She paused for around ten seconds. "Within the hour, the power to this Vault will be supported by our backup generator. The backup can last up to five years, but the radiation leaking from the generator room could seep into our living space in a week, two at best. So…I give you all a choice; stay here in the safety and certain death of the Vault, or evacuate the Vault and go out into the unknown. I will understand if you were to choose either way." Another long pause "I will be opting to leave myself, anyone who wishes to join me; gather up all the necessary supplies and meet me in the atrium in an hour. This has been Lauren, your Overseer, signing off for the last time. Godspeed everyone." With that, she ended the broadcast.

"So…" I slowly said to Frank "what are you going pick stay or go?" Frank scratched his moustache thoughtfully. "I think… I'm gonna go with the Overseer. She might be hotheaded, but she's a damn good leader. Just like her mother."

"I'll go with you; they could probably use another good grease monkey." I said, smiling slightly. "Just let me gather some supplies from my ro- What the hell?!" We had stepped into the residential wing; the entire area was in chaos. People were fist-fighting each other over stimpacks and cans of food, some were attacking with pool cues or baseball bats.

"Crap, my stash!" I shouted running down the hall toward my room. "Vin? Wait, where are you going?" I heard my mentor shout behind me.

What is my stash? One may ask. You see; I had anticipated that the radiation generator would give out soon. (Was I psychic or just lucky?) So I began hiding medical supplies in a locked drawer just in case I had to leave the Vault. Or, if I never had to use it I'd just tell my son or daughter (if I had any) where it is and he/she would pass it down to their kid and they would pass it down to THEIR kids and so on and so forth. I didn't anticipate that it would be me using the stash, though.

I reached my room; it was ransacked by one of the rioters, most of my valuable items gone. (Love thy neighbor my ass!) I checked the drawer, still locked. Good but…"Dammit!" I hissed. The key was missing, probably stolen by the rioter I suspected. "Who steals a key?" I thought out loud.

I still had an ace up my sleeve. The person who ransacked my room left the case of bobby pins on the shelf. I grabbed the box and peered inside, I still have ten left. This is probably the part where one of you readers asks: Hey, you said you had short hair! What is with the bobby pins? Well my friends I will answer that; lock picking.

I grabbed a screwdriver from my tool belt. I fit it into the bottom half of the drawer's lock and a bobby pin into the top half. After about a minute of twisting and guessing the locked clicked and I pulled open the drawer. Inside was three stimpacks, a dose of Rad-Away, and a syringe of painkiller labeled Med-X.

"HAH!" I shouted in triumph, blissfully unaware of the person standing behind me with a frying pan raised.

Pang!

First there was pain. And then… there was only blackness.

"Oowww." I groaned rolling on the cold concrete floor. My head was pounding harder than a hangover and the room's lights were flickering. I tried to get up off the floor, an act yielding no success. So I just lay there for a spell. The pounding eventually receded and I could stand again. I checked the drawer: empty. "Whoever had stolen my meds sure had a helluva swing." I muttered to myself.

"Wait…" I thought, staring at the ceiling "The lights aren't supposed to go out for another hour." I checked my PIP-Boy. The clock said 13:45 (That's 1:45 for those unfamiliar with military time); the medical page on my PIP said I had been unconscious for three and a half hours. "Damn." I groaned as I began to scan my room for anything of use. All I had found was my tough leather backpack and box of Fancy lad snacks.

I made my way out of the housing wing and into the atrium. As I suspected; the Overseer and her group were gone. In fact, everyone was gone. "I guess no one chose to stay in the Vault."I said to the empty room. (Great, now I'm talking to myself) I passed through the atrium, the cafeteria, and security. All of the rooms were ransacked, especially security. I had managed to gather a worn out 9mm pistol with only ten rounds in it. I also found a police baton, a bottle of purified water, and various other scraps of junk.

I stood in front of the Vault's main (and only) entrance, it was cracked open far enough for two men to walk through side-by-side. On the outside I saw half of a faded 75 on the door. It led to a cave, at the end of the cave I saw bright light filtering through a wooden door covering its mouth. I made my way to that door, throwing it open and running out into the vast expanse of the outdoors…..

I was out in the wasteland.

Footnote: Level up—Lv2

New Perk Added: Swift learner

You are indeed a Swift Learner with this Perk, as each level will give you an additional +10% bonus whenever you earn experience points. Best purchased at an early level.

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