Beep bop, Chapter 2. The wait is because of work, Mass Effect 3, laziness and general forgetting that I had to do it.

Once again, Beta'd by the lovely Rabbit, Irisu. Other than that, nothing else to say for now.

Chapter Two; Meetings, Rescues and…Mole Rats?

The steady tone of the electrocardiograph is the only noise in the deathly silent operating room; however, that silence swiftly becomes broken by the screams of a women and the high-pitched wailing. After a brief examination the man sign, a serene smile indiscernible from under his surgical mask, turning to the worn out women on the hospital bed;

"It's a girl? A girl! We've got a daughter, Catherine! A beautiful, healthy baby girl!"

Though clearly exhausted from the long birthing she smiles happily, as she welcomes her daughter into the world, "Oh... Oh James... We did it... A daughter... Our beautiful daughter..."

Dr. James Roux welcomed his infant daughter with a wave as he strokes her face lovingly, nothing else in the world matter to him now.

"You've got a bright future ahead of you, sweetie. I'm sure of it... Look at you, look at you... Hi, there. I'm your daddy, sweetheart. Daddy. You're going to need a name, aren't you?"

Looking over at his wife the share a look before she nods, tears streaming from her eyes, the joy she felt at that moment is too much to bear and she can barely wait to hold her child in her arms.

"Your mother and I have been talking. What do you think about...Faye? That's a good name. Don't you think? Fits your perfectly."

"You're going to look a lot like your mother." James says as he pulls his newborn daughter from the table and raises her up higher so that his wife can see their beautiful child.

"See that Catherine."

"Ohhh... Beautiful... just like her daddy... ha ha ha..." Catherine manages to hoarse out, clearly having trouble remaining awake from the strenuous labor.

Setting his child back onto the table and wrapping her in a warm comfortable cloth, he continues to stare lovingly at his daughter, still in shock at how wonderful everything turned out to be.

"It's a big world out there honey, full of all sorts of people. What about you? What kind of person are you going to be?"

However, his bliss is soon interrupted by the escalating tone of the monitor and Catherine's distressed voice; "James? James... Something's... Something's..."

"Catherine? Catherine! She's in cardiac arrest! Start compressions! Get the baby out of here! Move, Move!" Urging his assistant to look after his child he tries urgently save his wife.

"One, one thousand. Two, one thousand... Come on!"

"Hang on, Catherine! Hang on…."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

One year later.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

See that? It was your mother's favorite passage. It came from the Bible. Revelation 21:6

"I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of water of life freely."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nine Years Later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Happy birthday, honey! I can't believe you're already ten. I'm so proud of you." A broad smile adorns his face as he happily hugs his daughter. Who, although thoroughly embarrassed, returns it joyfully.

"If only your mother…."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nine Years Later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nothing prepared Faye for the desolate brown environment that greeted her as she exited the vault cave; while they had taught her about the war and its impact in class, not even Mr. Brotch's duteous teachings could ever prep her for the reality of it all. Everything had happened so fast, she couldn't even remember half of her escape from the vault it was all nothing but a blur. Flashes of gunfire and blood, then in a rush it hit her. She had killed Officer Mack.

She had killed Officer Steve Mack, her classmate Wally's brother.

Faye couldn't halt the vomit that spewed forth, the violent upheaval of her stomach driving her to the brown soil below. The horrid retching accompanied the painful emptying of her stomach as tears streamed down her cheeks onto the dry dirt, her sobbing echoing pitifully in the mouth of the cave. After what seemed like forever, she wiped the tears and vomit on the sleeve of the leather jacket, given to her by the same boy who always bullied both her and her best friend Amata.

'No, no more crying. I have to find father.'

Forcing the nausea and dizziness from her, she stands and makes her way away from the vault that had always been her home, in search of her missing parent. A single 10mm pistol and her vault suit all the boon she could gather in her frenzied escape, memories still filtering through her mind and upon reflection of one, the pistol in her hand felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

"I told you I don't know anything!"

Upon hearing the shouting of her long time friend Amata, Faye rushes forward towards the source however, the stern apathetic voice of her father, Alphonse, brings her to a quick stop just short of the barred window of the Vault's security room. Careful not to make any noise, Faye inches towards the window and peeks inside. There sitting frightfully rigid on a desk chair is Amata, her father and the cruel Officer Mack staring down at her, Mack, holding a Police baton threateningly sneers in contempt at the girls refusal to cooperate.

Arms laced across his chest, Alphonse sighs briefly before catching himself and resuming his questions, "Be reasonable, Amata. Officer Mack may enjoy this, but I don't. Just tell us where to find your friend, so we can talk to her."

Amata however does not buy his attempts, "She's my friend, I was worried about her. What does she have to do with any of this anyway?"

"Probably nothing, which is why you need to tell us where she is, so we can talk to her and get this mess straightened out."

Silence is the Overseer's response. As his daughter doesn't meet his eyes, another sigh escapes his lips as he gives Officer Mack a level gaze, a frown marring his face as he now has to resort to more…persuasive methods. Mack's grin grows at the Overseer's approval, taking a deliberate step towards the girl he slaps the baton into his hand loudly, another deliberate action, all to frighten the girl enough to divulge the information they needed.

"Now now Amata, we won't hurt our little friend. All we want is some answers as to where the Doc disappeared off to."

"Go to hell!"

A snarl crosses Mack's lips as he raises the baton in the air to strike the Overseer's daughter, her father making no move to halt the angry Security Officer's actions. However, there is no need as the sudden whoosh of the door opening and booted feet thumping behind them halts the officer's strike. Standing there, 10mm pistol held outstretched is the object of their interrogation.

"Leave her alone you bastards!" screams the redheaded Vault citizen as she shakily aims the pistol at both the officer and the Overseer.

Noticing the girl's obvious fright and insecurity, the sadistic Officer steps towards her, a cruel sneer on his lips; "Or what little bitch? You going to run away like your pussy of a father?" A barking laugh erupts from his mouth as he increases his pace towards the girl; at the same time, Faye backpedaling away from the encroaching man.

"Stay back! I said stay back! O-or I'll shoot!"

A scoff is his response as he raises the baton over his head, surging forward intent on ending the standoff with a single blow; He, however, did not expect her to make good on her threat. Whether from fright or desperation, a loud crack deafens the room's occupants, Mack's shoulder jerks backward as the round strikes dead-on, sending his weapon out of his hand and clattering to the floor behind him. A stunned silence follows before the injured officer's enraged bellow shatters it, his uninjured arm lashing out towards her but a second shot rings out, striking the advancing man in the opposite shoulder, staggering the charge.

A third and final shot strikes the bewildered security officer in the exposed temple, the small caliber bullet exploding out the opposite side in an erupting geyser of gore. His body collapsed lifelessly to the cold metal floor, a puddle of fluid forming beneath the corpse, the remaining occupants stare in an astonished silence at the corpse. Faye's shaking pistol never leaving the corpse as her mouth moves wordlessly, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. She had just killed a man; It was in self-defense but that hardly mattered. She took a life.

The first to recover, Amata doesn't spare her father or Officer Mack's body a second glance before she dashes out of the room, catching her friends arm then dragging her away from the scene and towards the Overseer's office. Alphonse did not even bother to stop them, his entire world was coming apart; everything he endeavored to perfection was for nothing.

That would change….

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes once more as the last portion of the horrific memory returns to her. With a fierce shake of her head the thought disappears. Hugging the gifted leather jacket closer to her body, she steps from the mouth of the vault cavern and into the blistering heat from the unforgiving sun. Despite the radiant heat, Faye felt cold. Numb. Slowly she made her way down the dusty incline and onto the shattered streets, strewn with burned out cars and various junk. She couldn't believe it, was the rest of the world like this? Why would her father want to leave the safety of the vault for this barren wasteland?

Carefully moving around the vehicles, she tried desperately to ignore the scorched skeletons within them. She wanted to scream; this was a nightmare, simply a nightmare. She would wake up soon, and her father would be waiting for her in the living room; his bright paternal smile greeting her. She could continue her classes, have a job assigned to her, and maybe find a nice boy to settle down with. More tears again make themselves known in her eyes and despite her attempt to stay them as a sob of despair and anger hitches her breath.

The sound of laughter breaks her despair. Raising her head, she notices the three people in the distance, settled in the center of the "town" around a burning barrel. Swiftly rubbing her eyes on the jacket sleeve, Faye runs forward crying out for them, frantically waving her arm in the air. She had found someone in this disaster and maybe they knew where her father went!

'They sure are dressed strangely though…does everyone out here not wear vault suits? Is that…a tire?'

Startled by the sudden shout, the three men grab their weapons, ready to meet whatever fool tried to ambush them. Upon noticing the youthful face and blue vault suit, they lower their weapons. Each of them adopting a sinister smirk, as the young girl stopped in front of them their grins grew she was a fine specimen.

Faye was more exhausted then she thought; that brisk jog left her winded. A hand on her heart, she waited a moment, trying to soothe the burning in her chest. It didn't help that the outside air seemed to be so dusty; it made her gag when she tried to take a deep breath.

"P-please wait. Can you help me?"

"He-he, sure thing girly, we sure as shit can help'cha"

The three men circle the young women, as she beamed at them unaware of their depraved thoughts, 'Hopefully.' Faye thought, 'Hopefully they can bring me to Father and we can go home!'

"Thank you! I am so lost, do you know where my fa-"

Faye didn't even finish her sentence before the butt of the man's rifle strikes the back of her head, knocking her unconscious and into another's grimy hands.

"Sure girly, we'll help ya out good!"

Their depraved laughter is the last thing she heard before it all went black.

A sudden hum and crackle echo throughout the empty space that was once the home of the Think Tank as power returns to the command room. Though once bustling with sounds and lights of various consoles and machines, only a scant few are active now, both to conserve what little power they could get from the backup generators and because there was no one else around to operate them leaving the powerful computers to stagnate.

Lifting his head from beneath an access panel in the floor, Kane breathes a sigh of relief he was worried that the power within the base had been lost forever after being violently separated from the research facility's main power plant. Finishing up with the panel, he seals it up and leaps to his feet, his joints groaning in protest at his sudden movement. With a groan of his own, he rolls his neck vainly in attempt to fight off the oncoming ache. A brisk pace towards a console settled simply in the center, and with a prayer to whatever deity existed, he started the derelict console up. His prayer was answered as the screen flashes to life and is filled with green text as the computer boots back up allowing him access to the facility's systems.

Several hours and hundreds of checks later, Kane finally switches the console off and steps away from it, rubbing his eyes, trying to remove the green spots that danced annoyingly in his vision. Thankfully, the violent…event hadn't damaged any of the base's delicate internal components and most of the caved in portions of the base, such as to his armory and the stairs to his room, had been minor and could easily be cleared with a little time and effort. His initial excursion to the surface had revealed an interesting fact; whatever had happened had moved the massive structure and deposited it underground. Strangely, the only direct access to the base was conveniently hidden within a cave, much like the massive vaults that dotted the country. Though confused at this turn of events, he wasn't one to cast aside fortune. Whatever force had brought him to this land had seen fit to hide him away so that curious eyes wouldn't peek.

Clearing the hallways of the caved-in dirt took longer than he had anticipated. Perhaps it was due to the fact there was more debris than he had anticipated, or more than likely it was the lack of proper tools. Either way, he had finally finished the basic repairs to the structure and had finally restored the power to his home, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. While he still had a lot more work to finish, much of the more mundane and tedious tasks could be put off and finished at a later date without a hassle.

Wiping residual dust from his brow with a rag, he set down his shovel and made his way up the stairs that lead to his current home; while he could have use the elevator, he decided that it wasn't worth the strain on the fragile systems he had just spent hours bringing back online for such a trivial action. Despite the protest from his tired muscles, he finally made it up the many flights of steps to his command center and made a beeline to his refrigerator to grab a chilled bottle of fresh water. Various knickknacks and books littered the floor but again he filed that task away for later. He had far more pressing issues to deal with.

"CIN, status."

The large station in the middle of the Sink beeped in acknowledgement and stayed silent for a moment before the faintly British accent echoed from the surrounding speakers.

"All systems are running at normal capacities, Sir. Minor subsystems in the external security net are offline and I am unable to reactivate them. Sink automated personality subroutines are offline as well. Would you like me to reactivate them, sir?"

"No need, CIN, and I believe I know why the sensors are offline. Interface with any available satellites in orbit and give me a triangulation."

"At once, Sir." The virtual intelligence replied before falling silent onto its task while its master waited patiently for it.

Minutes seem to drag on as Kane paced back and forth, his bottle of water long since finished and set upon the workbench in the corner. His patience at the breaking point Kane was about to demand an update when CIN beat him to the punch.

"Sir, I have finished my analysis."

"And?"

"A moment, sir, pulling up the map now."

A topographical map replaced the gridded holographic map; slowly the cursor filters over the map before settling directly over the former capital of the pre-war nation.

Kane's eyes narrow and his brow furrows as he stares at the map in disbelief, "CIN, how is this possible? We….how?" his thoughts trail off at the mere implications of what had transpired. He was now two thousand miles away from the land he called home, from the people he called his family, CIN's sudden voice breaks him out his confusion as the monitor flickers back to the standard holographic map.

"I am unable to ascertain as to how, sir. However, the explosion detected earlier had deposited an excessive amount of temporal and tachyon particles throughout every section of the Sink."

Pushing himself from the station, Kane raked a hand through his hair, the sudden realization weighing down on him. Whatever had happened that night had thrown him and his base across the country and into the capital.

"That is not all, sir. I am a detecting the same pattern of temporal and tachyon particles flowing steadily from your pip-boy, sir."

Confused emerald eyes flicker down to the personal computer clasped to his wrist. In all the commotion, he had completely forgotten about it and only now did he notice that it had changed. A normal pip-boy 3000 had a dial for changing screens on the left side (an obvious design mistake, as unless done properly you would obscure the screen with your own arm), a scrolling tool for the map, and two buttons; one for the status menu and one for the data menu.

However, through Kane's own modifications, with the assistance of Doctor Henry and Arcade, he had integrated the complex nature of the prototype Mark II stealth boy into his pip-boy 3000. Though far from perfect or streamlined, it suited his purpose and the only noticeable difference in the device was the battery slot and the additional button on the dashboard. Now, a fourth button had appeared next to the mark. II's, a faint blue glow behind the semi clear button. With frightful shuddering intake of breath, he chanced a look and carefully removed the cover of the device. Inside the numerous wires and electronics had fused together, all centered on a glowing blue tube. A sudden and intense sense of danger quickly brought the wrist computer's casing back down with an audible click. He was unsure as to what the hell that thing inside the device was and he had no intention of finding out.

His inquiries usually ended in violence and explosions and having one strapped to his wrist did not inspire him of the chance. The idea of removing the device from his wrist is shot down almost as fast as it came, as he doubted he could survive well in the foreign landscape without it.

The electronic voice of his central computer shakes him from his thoughts; "Sir? Is everything alright?"

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he waves the concern off, "Fine, what's our exact location within the capital?"

"Processing…we are approximately 1.4 miles south-east of the pre-war Springvale. Grid section Nine by Eleven on the current overlain map Sir."

Kane stared at the map for several moments, a multitude of thoughts coursing through his mind; why was he here? How did he get here? Was there any way back? With a final defeated sigh, he banishes those thoughts from his mind and focuses on his current expedition.

"CIN, upload the latest map my pip-boy and continue to work on any internal problems. I think it's time I explore this area and maybe see if I can find some non-hostiles and gather some information. "

The Sink Central Intelligence Unit beeps in confirmation before returning to its assigned tasks as its master descends from the main room and into his armory. The Sink's intelligence network briefly worried about its master's safety but quickly returned to its task. The master was a seasoned warrior and could handle any threat that this new wasteland threw at him. Not many in this time could claim to deeds that the former courier had in his brief seven years as the Mojave's defender; however, this line of processing was unproductive and oddly conflicted with its programming. Once again deciding it was best to return to its work it filed that tidbit of strange thinking away for later.

Sequestered from the rest of the advanced technological wonders that littered the Big Mountain Research facility was a simple room, formerly a storage space, now lined with freestanding shelves. On each of the aligned shelves to the left rest weapons of varying types, at least ten copies of weapons known within the Mojave wasteland and several that were foreign. From the simplest kitchen knife to the bulky Gatling gun he had gathered during his travels and stockpiled for reasons that only he knew, they now lay silent, unused. Waiting for the day they would be called back into action. To the left, more shelved various pieces of armor lay folded and in pristine condition; several suits of basic leather armor lay next to pieces of complex power armor.

Although the storeroom had several overhead lights, the only source of light in the dark room rest over a simple worktable. A mixture of parts litter the table and countless tools lay scattered beside them. Sitting at that table was a figure strapping a piece of armor to his right forearm. Sealing the final clasp in its place, he flexes and extends his arm, finding the arm piece comfortably set. He rises to his feet, letting the assembled coat and armor settle properly. He futilely smoothed the wrinkles on his sleeve, the battered and worn armor he acquired in the tumultuous Divide served him well. Although far from the most inconspicuous clothing he owned, it served its purpose in defense and intimidation needed for the riot officers who wore it. The armor resting upon his shoulder clanked slightly as Kane rolled an offending ache from his shoulder. It had been some time since he donned the armor pilfered from the NCR officer in the crumbled building but it had protected him faithfully for years since that event so he dared not chance the foreign landscape without it.

Stepping away from the table, he reached into the open locker, pulling the familiar sight of his unique marksman carbine, the distinctive woodland camouflage ill-suited to the bleak brown landscape of the wasteland. Pulling the bolt back, he briefly inspects the chamber before letting it snap back into place. Despite his daily ritual of disassembling, cleaning and reassembling his equipment, Kane was still paranoid about their performance. In a world where a defective weapon meant death daily engrained the former courier with a need to keep them in top form, setting the carbine gently on the worktable he slid a pistol from its designated peg in the locker and followed his compulsive disorder. The sidearm's unique appearance set itself apart from the others; stylized snake-skin grip and strange etchings on the slide, the weapon's previous owner had once explained to him their meaning but he had long since forgotten. Slipping the customized pistol into his thigh holster, he continued his arming; a well-worn bowie knife slid carefully into his armored boot, a machete slid into its familiar place at his hip, a number of clips hidden in the pouches of his bandolier, and several grenades of various types hidden throughout his person.

To a normal person, the amount of ordnance he carried seemed excessive but his ventures through the Mojave taught him that a person never be under-prepared. Clasping his medical pouch to his waist he allowed the flap of his jacket conceal it from view. It seemed strange that he needed to carry them; his implants healed his wounds almost instantaneously, replacing any need for the pre-war medicines. His reasoning was it never hurt to bring along a few stimpacks and med-x in case of emergency. Maybe it was Arcade's nagging subconsciously forcing him to take medicine. If he didn't know any better he swore that the scientist nagged deliberately to program him. A scoff and shake of his head cleared that silly thought. His pack also included a healthy number of lock picks and the same trusted screwdriver given to him by the man who saved his life, Doc Mitchell. A few other random pieces of equipment made its way onto his person, sequestered in various hidden pockets lining the armored coat or on his belt.

A final piece of equipment remained; a heavy rifle that he purchased years ago from the Gun Runners. Though it had little practical use in most situations, it never hurt to have a bit of shock and awe. The heavy caliber rifle had been modified over time; a custom bolt mechanism for faster firing, replacement of the original parts and stock with lighter weight carbon fiber ones. Loaded with fifty caliber hand crafted rounds, one shot from this weapon had more than enough punch to pierce even the heaviest power armor.

Collapsing the bulky weapon into pieces, he secures it to his back. It would cost him a precious few seconds to resemble the rifle back into firing order but the alternative of having the long weapon clanging against his back overrode the delay. Adjusting the straps attached to his Carbine and after making sure it is properly fitted, Kane allows the unique gun to dangle off his shoulder. Finally, he was ready to venture out into the new environment and more than ready to meet any threat; he had taken everything the Mojave had thrown at him and more. From simple raiders, to mutated animals, to super mutants, hell, he had taken down an entire slaver nation almost single-handedly. What could the Capital throw at him that the Mojave hadn't?

After several checks and even more rechecks, he finally arrived at the only current exit from his home and as before, the blistering rays of the unforgiving sun greeted him. Thankfully, the tinted ruby-red lens blocked most of them and spared him from being blinded; shouldering his carbine, he scans the horizon, eyes scrutinizing every detail in the brown landscape. When no battle cry of a band of Legion soldiers, or mocking raiders came, his posture relaxed slightly, hoping that this wasteland wasn't as violent as his last one. The pre-war township of Springvale would be his first destination. Hopefully, someone friendly inhabited it, and they could give him some sort of information.

He swiftly covered the distance between his cavern and the town without incident. He almost hoped for a random Deathclaw nest to appear just to break up the monotonous gait but to no avail. Although it looked as if someone heard his silent prayers as a familiar, whooping laughter fills his ears. Raiders. It seemed that no matter where the demented ruffians inhabited, they all had similar goals and strangely enough, almost sounded alike. Increasing his pace, he comes upon a small hill overlooking the town. Dropping close to the dirt, Kane carefully crawls forward. A pair of binoculars made their way to his hands as he reaches the top, scanning the town he finds the owners of the voices. Three dirty men, all clad in ramshackle armor and equipped with poorly maintained firearms. However, what truly interested the former courier was the blue, black, and yellow clad figure slung over the lead raider's shoulder.

He swore that the figure's outfit was something he had seen before, 'Wait, blue and yellow clothes? A vault dweller? What the hell are they doing out here?' Ceasing his ponders he watches as they disappear into the nearby school and out of sight. Pushing himself from the dirt, he quickly gives pursuit; it seemed that it didn't take him long to become embroiled in conflict but he supposed it was inevitable. Cass always called him Mr. Hero and damned if he failed to live up to the Caravaneer's nickname.

Pressing his back against the schools brick wall, he slowly crept towards the gaping hole that overlooked a river, the nearby overpass collapsed into the murky water. With practiced footsteps, he padded through the rubble; barely a sound emanated from his heavy boots. Though he had passed a set of locked double doors that most likely lead straight into the heart of the school Kane decided he wasn't in the mood to engage whatever force the Raiders had gathered within the pre-war school. Another round of laughter halted his advance. Giving his weapon a once over, he made his way around the corner; peering over the rubble, he spies several raiders lounging, most smoking or drinking away the day. None of the assembled group was armed and seemed to completely unaware of any danger.

'Perfect, for once these bastards will be jumped on.'

And Kane waited, he could just jump from cover and swiftly execute the gathered Raiders with several well-placed shots, but he risked alerting the Raiders inside and possible have the vault dweller summarily executed as well. Though he didn't have the luxury of time either, the longer he waited the less time he had to rescue the kid before the Raiders killed him, or worse. He had witnessed many of the atrocities the chem-raddled outlaws had committed to innocent wasters.

'Hurry up and disperse you bastards…there we go.'

A single raider walked away from the group, his fellows sneering and jeering at him as he walked away, his response was simply to raise his finger, which seemed to accomplish nothing more than to increase their amusement.

Only once he was far enough away from the group did Kane finally break from his cover and, with expert ease, melted into the shadows.

"Fucking pricks, I oughta gut the bastards." A sigh of relief escapes the raider's lips as he relieves himself out the ruined window. All that booze finally ran through him and nothing felt quite as good as a good piss. Finishing, he zips his pants up, wiping his dirty hands on his soiled pants; currently content, he thinks nothing of the voice calling from behind him.

"All done?"

"Yeah, all fucking done…"

"…Good."

His contentedness disappears in a flash as a gloved hand clamps over his mouth with enough force to chip his stained teeth. His struggles are non-existent as the cold bite of a knife on the back of his throat and then a sharp pain. Suddenly he couldn't breathe. Not because of the hand that was on his mouth, but something the knife had done. His vision was fading; he didn't want to die life was so perfect it…

Kane dragged the now limp raider into a dark corner and deposited the body none too gently. A quick swipe of his blade against the soiled raider's pants and the knife was clean, so to speak, but better it smeared with whatever stained to outlaws pants then leaving a trail of blood.

'One down, two to go.'

Melting back into the shadows, Kane moved swiftly towards the two remaining raiders. It would be child's-play to kill them in their drunk and chem- induced haze, he mused. More than likely, he could simply walk up to them, wave and shoot them one of them head and his fellow would giggle then pass out; An amusing plan but not what he wanted. Spying a ledge overlooking their meeting place, he slipped through the shadows to finish the two unsuspecting raiders.

Another hit off his Jet inhaler, and still none of pleasing drug came out. With a growl of rage, the offending canister flies through the air and lands with a hollow thud on top of a pile of empty bottles. "Useless fucking shit."

"Quit chur bitching."

"Fuck off shit-stain."

A retort forms on his lips but is lost when a brown and green object lands heavily between them. What the hell had just happened? What the fuck had just landed in their base? It kinda looked like a-

Was as far as the raider's thoughts got before a shoulder planted itself into his chest and, with what seemed like the force of a super mutant, threw the hapless raider back against the crumbling wall. A sudden and sharp pain erupting from his chest as a corrugated piece of rebar juts menacingly from his bare flesh. The pain was so paralyzing that it took all his strength not to pass out right then. Looking up through lidded eyes, he watches as his fellow raider is executed with a swift machete slash to the neck. His outlaw brother pawing futilely at the gaping spurting wound in his flesh, the man's attacker stares impassively at his latest kill before booting the corpse off the landing, it struck the ground below with a wet thud.

Vision fading from the pain and blood loss, the echoing footsteps starting him every so often, until a rough force bends the rusted spear against his chest. Forcing his eyes open, he comes face to face with a masked visage, crimson red eyes shining deviously into his own. Fear unlike anything he has ever experienced urged him to run, but the rusted piece of steel piercing his flesh holds him firmly in place. The figure's deep echoing voice draws his attention as a rough hand grips his shoulder; "I will ask you once, where is the prisoner that your fellows brought in recently."

Although it pained him to breath let alone speak, he managed to spit out a few barbed words, followed by a glob of blood-tinted spit. "F-fuck off you cocksucker."

A moment passes in silence, as the figure seems to ponder the raider's words before an echoing sigh emanates from behind the mask, "Very well."

The hand on his shoulder tightens as the other latches onto his throat, the pressure of the grip as tight as that an anaconda's coils chokes off his air. Already weak from pain, the raider tries to pry the offending appendage from his body. A sudden quick jerk of the stranger's wrist ends the struggle with a muted crack, the raider falling limp shortly after.

Not sparing the fiend another glance, Kane proceeds to the door leading inside. Pressing his helmet against the door, he awaits the sounds of rushing feet or shouting. When nothing comes, he concludes his infiltration remained discrete.

Carbine once again planted firmly against his shoulder, he slowly opens one of the double doors leading to the interior of the former school, hinges grinding nosily against the rusted metal hinge pins. The door, open just enough for his large frame to squeeze through is just as slowly closed shut. A prayer of hope that none of the group had heard the damned doors groans; again, at the deafening silence he continues his advance. Unfamiliar dark hallways greet him; discarded books, cans, and skeletons litter the dank halls. A careful but quickened pace attempts to evade the amassed junk. Reaching up he flicks a small switch on the amassed optics on his helmet and a brief whine pierces the silence as his vision lights up in a red tint. The Riot Gear's optics flooding the darkness with red, allowing him a slightly better view of the hallway, his vision now improved allowed his advancement.

Kane however did not get far. As he passed several doors, one directly behind him burst open and out stepped a female raider scratching her tangled, greasy hair. Their gazes lock with one another briefly before her scream echoes and she reaches for the pistol on her hip.

"Who the fuck are you!"

The butt of Kane's carbine bites into her cheek as he lashes out to silence her before she attracted more attention; the tangled melee continues for a brief moment before the cold barrel of his carbine touched her chin. A slight depression of the trigger later and the wall behind her became a mural of gore; the stained and dilapidated wall painted with blood, bone, and brain matter. No sooner had her body collapsed to the ground did Kane hear the curses and yells of the remaining raiders. A curse of his own forms on his lips as he slips into a nearby classroom. A volley of bullets tears apart the wall he occupied not a second later as a group of raiders unloaded a seemingly endless stream of lead.

'Fuck, so much for stealth.'

The raiders jeer and call out for him as they reload and resume their volley. Not a second later does the camouflaged rifle peek out from behind the door and a single round screeches out. The ballistic obliterates the eye of furthest raider, dropping him in a shower of gore. The sudden death of one of their members stuns the group only for their assault to resume with earnest. Their aim was atrocious but accuracy was unimportant when you had overwhelming firepower, and that was generally the tactic these raider bands relied heavily upon, surprise and overwhelming force.

A frontal assault could kill him in this situation so a more, amusing plan came to mind. Spying an exit opposite his own, he bolts out through the other side of the room and makes his way around the group. The sound of his heavy footfalls and clinking equipment is stifled by the loud belching gunfire. A simple button press later and his body is enveloped in a field of refracted light, obscuring his form.

Slipping a small pineapple shaped object from his belt he tears the pin from it and holding the small lever against the device, he creeps from hiding towards the howling group.

The remaining raiders still unleashing a torrent of bullets never noticed a slight shimmer behind them as Kane slipped the live grenade into the grouped raider's belt. Slipping away as swiftly as he arrived he watched as the small weapon exploded with massive force, reducing group to ground meat. An unlucky raider survived, howling in pain and clutching the charred stump that was once his leg. His agony is ended by a shot between the eyes. Another curse forms on his lips, he had wasted too much time on these fools. Hopefully, they were more focused on him and not the innocent vault dweller.

"The fuck is going on out there!"

Jojo, the leader of the Springvale raider band was currently fuming. The day had started nicely; his men had brought a fine piece of fresh ass. If the suit was any indication, she was from that vault. Virgin pussy was always the best and after he had fucked her to his heart's content, he might let the shit stains that followed him have a piece. Now some asshole was shooting his base up and if the explosion was any indication, was killing his minions. Whoever was responsible was fucking dead and his guts would be strewn from here to Megaton!

Gripping his sawed-off shotgun tightly, he waited for the asshole to burst through the door so he could blast a hole into them. Probably some heroic asshole or maybe that prick, Simms; oh how he'd love to get revenge on that prick. The groaning screech of his door ripped him from his daydream and before it had even opened more than a crack twin shells erupted from the shortened barrel and tore the wooden structure to kindle. Jojo guffaws as he plucks the spent, smoking cartridges, letting them carelessly drop to the floor. So certain that whatever threat there was had been summarily dealt with, he tossed the spent weapon to the mattress behind him. Now he could finally ravage that red headed vault bitch.

That plan meets a premature end as twin shots ring out and strike the raider leader in the knees, sending him crumpling to the ground. Clutching his wounded appendages, he scrambles for something to fight with but when a heavy boot stomps on his back, he can only wriggle in desperation.

Kane examines the prone form resting on the soiled mattress not too far from the door, ignoring the writhing piece of trash beneath him. The figure seemed unharmed but he could scarcely tell from this distance. Finally glancing down, he tried his luck initiating a dialogue with the outlaws; "Is the vault dweller harmed?"

"FUCK YOU SHIT STAIN!"

Kane responded simply by spilling the raider leader's grey matter with a shot. Strolling towards the mattress that the vault dweller resided and kneeling next to the mattress, he rolled the prone body over. He was surprised to find it was a girl, a vault girl. Reminded him of Sarah, the owner of the Vault Hotel back in Vegas, a nice girl who eagerly accepted any vault tech he scavenged for a handful of caps, though he received a much better reward after bringing her a wardrobe full of vault suits. Forcing the old memories out of his mind he put his fingers to her throat, a steady beat reverberates through his glove, a sigh of relief escapes his lips the young girl seemed for the most part uninjured. Securing his carbine to his shoulder, he slipped his arms beneath her back and legs, hefting her to his chest. She was surprisingly light compared to some of the other females he knew; death awaited him surely, if he dared to voice that particular knowledge aloud.

Her head throbbed worse than the time she snuck a bottle of Mrs. DeLoria's vodka. Faye couldn't remember what happened; it was nothing more than a big blur. Something brown, something white, oh her head throbbed more when she tried. Despite her eyelids feeling as if they were made of lead, she finally forced them to flutter open; a fiery orange sky greeted her and there was a soft lapping wind on her cheek. A groan fumbles from her lips, 'outside? I am…outside?" it all suddenly came back to her. Her father, the vault, and those men. They had attacked her and, No, she had to find her father!

Bolting upright from her makeshift cot, she tries to move but a sudden wave of fresh pain paralyzes her attempts. In spite of the pain, the sound of a sudden deep voice at her side caused her to start fearfully, "Oh, have you finally awoken?"

Memories of previous incident flood her mind; Faye scrambles back away from the approaching armored man, crawling over broken beams and concrete.

"S-stay away from me!"

A bewildered Kane halts his advance and raises his arms in a placating manner. He removed his helmet and set it upon the ground nearby, allowing the frightened girl full view of his features. "Hey now, I am not going to hurt you kiddo."

Slowly, he extended his hand towards the terrified child. "My name is Kane; I saved you from those Raiders. Are you alright?"

Faye stares at the hand as if it were a monster, still weary since her violent first greeting by those strangely dressed men. Glancing up she gazed into the armored man's eyes, though his face held scars she could somehow tell he meant her no harm; his bright emerald eyes were so pretty!

"F-faye, Faye Roux." Grasping his extended hand, he pulled her onto unsteady legs.

"Kaapro Teuvo, but you can just call me Kane. Everyone else does."

Assisting her to the safe he had been using as a stool, he unscrewed the lid off his canteen and handed it to Faye. He watched in amusement as she greedily imbibed the liquid. After downing half the canteen's contents, she sighs loudly in relief, handing the container back to her savior. Allowing the pleasing sensation to settle in her stomach, she stretches her arms with a grunt. All the while Kane continues to watch her, still amused at her behavior.

Deciding to break the pleasant silence that overtook them, "So why are you out here Faye? Did something happen to your vault?"

Realization floods her face as she remembers her goal, "Yes! How could I become so distracted? My father! Kane, please, have you seen my father?"

"No, I'm sorry Faye. I've only just arrived here myself. You are the only person I've met who hasn't tried to kill me."

The young vault citizen face visibly falls at that revelation, a tear forming in her eyes but a sudden thought seems to perk the girl up. "Then, will you help me find him! You will wont you?"

Faye grips his hands tightly in her own, a look that men throughout history were powerless to contend with. "I-But…"

"Please!"

Her large teary blue eyes pleading, her lower lip trembling, begging with every fiber of her being for him to accept. God he hated how women seemed to be able to sway his favor; he could never deny a pleading woman's request. A final defeated sigh escapes his lips before nodding in agreement.

Her squeal of happiness startled him slightly less than her sudden bone-jarring hug, the force of which he could swear dented his chest piece. Managing to pry the ecstatic vault girl from his armor, he pats her head affectionately. She was beginning to remind him too much like Veronica, which, he decided, wasn't always a good thing; Veronica's girlish tendencies conflicted with her fierce fighting style. How he hoped that the little Faye wouldn't turn out to be like Veronica, or at least…he hoped she didn't want a dress. It was tedious enough to locate one undamaged piece of clothing in the wasteland…

"Alright alright, I'll help you find your father. I had nothing better to do anyway kiddo."

A broad smile was his response as she hopped on top of the safe and jerked her index finger north, "Then we shall be off! Like in the holovids! Off we go on a glorious adventure!" Marching north, she doesn't notice the exasperated look on the former-courier's face.

"Faye. I think south is our best bet."

Halting her exaggerated march, she giggles sheepishly, but upon noticing her companion moving on without her, shaking his head in exasperation, she bolts to catch up. "Hey! Wait for me!"

Kane's grumbling can be heard as she latches on to his arm, "What the hell did I get myself into…"

Two souls now intertwined in a boundless destiny, the wasteland will forever be changed by their actions, and a thirsty wasteland will forever be in their debt.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hours later.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Ooooh! How adorable! It's like a shaved doggy!"

"Faye! Do not touch that! It's not a doggy!"

"Owww! It tried to bite me! Bad Doggy! Bad!"

"Damnit Faye! Do not try to pet the damned Molerat!"

And that is chapter 2.

Originally I had plans to completely write out each scene of the Intro but upon writing the birthing I found most of it would just be dialogue and really not worth regurgitating. If it came off to vauge, Kane's current loadout is Elite Riot Armor with the All-American, A Light Shining in Darkness, Anti-Materiel Rifle (GRA with the Custom Bolt and Carbon Fiber parts.) I was going to add the Suppressor but it seemed pointless. If he needs further stealth he can jury-rig a silencer from another weapon, it's not perfect but it'll work for a while.

I am concerned that I depicted Faye as too naïve, what do you think?

As always, Criticism are welcome. Until next time (which I hope will be sooner) with Chapter 3.