Opening notes:
This story takes place 73 years after the events of Fallout: A Post Nuclear Role Playing Game, which means it takes place 7 years before Fallout 2. With that being said, any lore regarding the Fallout universe as a whole will be based solely on the first two entries. There might be some references to other games in the series should I find it interesting and worthy of adding to the narrative - but other than those few instances, please read this story as if Fallout 2 was the last entry in the series. Lastly, the cover art used for this story comes from Fallout 2's concept art. I was unable to find the original artist unfortunately. If you know who the artist is please let me know, as I would like to credit them.
Little Metal Children
By Sir Chillness
Prologue
The Old World is not strongly reflected in the Wasteland. It is more commonly seen in brief streaks, glimmering an age long gone – buried within the ruins of current day civilization.
On one particular July afternoon in the year 2208, there existed what may as well been the resurrection of the dead itself. Rising from it's grave not to haunt the world around it, but to gleefully ruminate in its very own existence. In a mobile base situated several miles southwest of the Los Angeles Boneyard were members of the Enclave – descendants of Old World government officials united under one goal: to revive America to its former glory, no matter how many "miscreants tainted by the radiation of the wastes" they had to crush under their heel to get it back in order. The personnel stationed at the small base danced the night away, singing songs and fondly celebrating the most important day in American history – Independence Day. The day the American people were freed from the shackles of British rule.
Barely far away enough from the festivities sat an Enclave scientist named Pamela Gerry. In her arms laid her uneasy two-month-old son, Austin. She had overheard her child crying amidst the sounds of celebration and promptly came to comfort him. Even though it wasn't an ideal place to raise a child, Pamela found herself enjoying her newfound motherhood. When she was deployed to the area they established their base at she was already six months pregnant. The father of her child was Jason Lew, a mechanic working aboard the Poseidon Oil rig. They became acquainted after Jason contacted Pamela regarding a technical fault that caused the maintenance wing's computer terminal to "shit the goddamn bed", as Jason so eloquently put it. After that the two began messaging one another in their spare time. It started out as a way to pass the time – asking how the other's lunch was or how much they hated their supervisors. After a month it went from a half dozen messages a day to hundreds per week. Eventually the two made plans to spend some time together after hours, and that was the day Jason impregnated Pamela. She didn't even take the possibility into account, rather she was more relieved that she finally lost her virginity at the age of 33 – if albeit to a man almost twice her age. The two kept in touch and had similar encounters in the weeks leading up to Pamela discovering she was pregnant, but once she broke the news to Jason he grew distant. He stopped messaging her, and after 4 months she was finally ready to move on.
Pamela didn't protest when her superior debriefed the small band she was grouped in about their deployment. It wasn't like she'd be on the front lines or anything – her only job was to spend time monitoring and contacting several of the Vault-Tec vaults that were in and around the area. Her fellow Enclave members treated her with reverence and patience while she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, when she finally gave birth however she knew that she was going to be on her own once again. But unlike Jason, they would never leave her. They would keep her and Austin safe no matter what - that's the American way, after all.
As she sat and watched Austin struggle to stay awake in his mother's arms, she realized that the people celebrating had suddenly grown quiet. All she could hear was the faint sound of the wind whistling it's way gracefully across the wasteland. A couple more minutes later she could hear shuffling, then some unfamiliar voices.
"Auhn… Auhn… Clavay? Auhnclavay?", one voice muttered.
Another followed. "No, you idiot! It clearly says… uh… Wow, okay. Maybe it does say auhnclavay."
Pamela scurried to put Austin back into the footlocker she had been using as a crib.
"Exactly. Which means you're the moron here. Not only are you bad at readin' but you also got bad info! Whatever cheap New Reno slut you fucked last week told you this was an NCR camp, not… Whatever the fuck an auhn—"
Having just stepped outside of the tent, Pamela saw the lifeless bodies of her fellow Enclave members strewn out on the ground. Just a few feet away from her stood two men, a shaggy looking one rooting through their clothes and a tall bald one staring right at her, a sniper rifle in his hands. Without any hesitation, the bald man took aim and shot Pamela right through the chest. She collapsed on the ground, giving one final breath as blood bubbled and escaped her lips in a liquid fury.
"Lemme guess, that was the New Reno slut?" the shaggy one asked.
"Zip it. Let's look for some more stuff." his accomplice replied.
The two raiders spent several minutes digging through crates and desks, only to find high tech energy weapons and miscellaneous technology – something neither of them had any interest in. Upon realizing there was nothing they could loot from the camp; the two men began to worry.
"What the fuck are we goin' to do?" the shaggy one cried. "If Darion finds out we got a false lead from some stupid… fuckin'… New Reno trash… junkie whore – he'll kill us!"
"Calm down dude. There must be so—"
His words were cut off by a sound familiar yet so alien to the both of them - a crying baby. The bald raider whipped his head immediately towards the tent Pamela had come out of.
"And that" he said, "is what we give Darion."
His fellow raider looked at him in disbelief. "No! No, that's fuckin' stupid! Come on, can we at least lug one of these godda—"
"If you want to die empty handed when we return to Darion you can be my guest. But at least it's something."
