Death Virginia

by KyliaQuilor

In one world, nobody left Vault 76 until 2102, after the people of Appalachia had been killed by the Scorched Plague or their own hands. In another, Vault 76 opened to let one dweller out in the year 2086, and changed Appalachia forever. One person can't save the world alone, but they can set events in motion. Maybe, just maybe, Appalachia could be saved.

1. Death of An Overseer

Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout. Clearly.

Back in 2022, I ran a quest on Sufficient Velocity with this same premise. It did okay, but I ran into writer's block with the personality of the MC and the interests of the quest voters were clashing with mine. This isn't really a knock on the voters, more just my own inexperience with running quests and the choices I gave and so forth. But the result was that my interest in the quest faded.

BUT the idea of this premise – of someone leaving Vault 76 early and creating the circumstances that leads to the factions of Appalachia not collapsing to infighting and falling to the Scorched – has remained in my brain. I debated rebooting the Quest, but I decided it would be better to just write a fic.

The games make a number of abstractions and other choices that make sense for gameplay – the C.A.M.P., mowing down large numbers of enemies, being bullet sponges, near instant stimpack healing, etc. Also populations, town sizes, relative distances, etc. This is a fic of a game, so some things will be more or less like the games, unrealistic or not. But some things will be adapted or altered to make more sense for a written , Science doesn't actually Work Like That, but if we get too into the weeds there, there's no story.

If nothing else, we're not gonna have some super human MC that can do everything themselves alone – though the MC will be accomplishing a lot, even with help, that would definitely make them exceptional and remarkable but… I mean, that's fiction, no? We're also probably not going to have as many enemies that are as much bullet sponges and dealing out massive damage as the game does. Certainly, deathclaws, etc are durable and dangerous, but again – in real life, a bullet or a laser blast or whatever tends to hurt.

As much as is humanly possible, I intend for characters (apart from the MC) to be derived from characters that really did exist in Appalachia before it all went to hell. Granted, in many cases all we'll have to go on is a dead named body or name on a note or something like that, but they will be at least taken from those names.

One final note: The in-game details on the capacity of Vault 76 vary, and the known people in the Vault raise questions. Big questions. Like – how were people who were already at least middle age in 2077 expected to be the ones to go out on their own in 2097 (when Reclamation day was intended to happen) without the Vault as a base? So I'm changing things around with the population and asserting that the average age of Vault 76's residents was 22-25. Picking people based on potential and what had already been accomplished to be the best and brightest of their generation, rather than the most accomplished/best and brightest overall. Mostly, anyway.

Death Virginia

By Kylia

Chapter 1: Death of An Overseer

As the Sino-American War dragged on, in China, with fighting in Alaska, China itself, and across the islands of the Pacific, more and more Americans found themselves worrying for the future. The fears of atomic annihilation grew, and even as the American Government, long divorced from whatever noble ideas it had once been rooted in, lied to the public about the state of the war, they and major companies sought to profit from the fear of the Bomb.

Vault-Tec was of course the most profitable and most successful company in this sphere, building over a hundred structures across the Continental United States, supposedly to shelter the best and the brightest of America when the end game. Many vaults had pre-selected groups, while others were open to anyone who could afford to pay for the waiting list.

Time and again, people were told that if the Vaults were needed, then the future of America, the rebuilding of this great nation, would lie with them.

This was, put simply, a lie.

For reasons ranging from mad science to sociopathic cruelty to simple corporate greed, as well as in cooperation with elements of the US Government that were already writing off America as it presently stood, Vault-Tec planned for the vast majority of the vaults to not be shelters to save anyone: they were to be experiments.

These experiments were almost universally deadly in their ultimate outcome, conducted with no grasp of scientific ethics, generally lacked scientific merit and had dubious rigor in their methods, at best. They usually asked questions no more sophisticated than 'what happens if we pour gasoline on a fire'.

But still, the research was planned, expense, logic and morality be damned. Though that could have been the motto of the entire country's elite by that point.

But some Vaults actually sought to do what was advertised: protect the residents and leave them able to face the wasteland. In some cases, what they would do after survival was the experiment. And some were control vaults, to serve as a baseline for testing. Or even to actually serve as a basis for rebuilding, so Vault-Tec and its partners could dominate in the aftermath.

In Appalachia, one such vault was Vault 76. The 'Tricentennial Vault' was formally announced to the country at large on July 4, 2076, and it really was to collect the best, brightest and most promising of a new American generation, and then release them into the aftermath in 25 years, once the world had recovered from the worst of the Atomic Bombs.

Placed under the leadership of an accomplished graduate of Vault-Tec University, deemed ironclad in her loyalty to Vault-Tec and their mission, Vault 76 served its purpose when, on October 23rd, 2077, the end of the world came.

In another universe, things would have proceeded as planned, the Vault Doors opened in 2102, and the inhabitants let out to rebuild Appalachia. In that year, they'd have found a region scoured of human life, haunted by the ghosts and echoes of those who failed, often despite heroic efforts. They'd have found an Appalachia overrun by monstrous winged beasts and the humans infected by their spores, turned into something... else.

But that isn't what happened. For in January 2086, the Overseer of Vault 76 was fatally injured in an accident too bizarre and unlikely to relate here, the result of Murphy's Law run amok. The inhabitants of the Vault, after much argument and some fighting, elected a new Overseer from among their own as January moved into February.

But it was as a result of this change in leadership that history changed. For someone left the Vault, despite the official plan.

And that someone would change Appalachia forever. One way or another.

February 6th, 2086

Common Area, Vault 76

Vault 76 was officially rated for a capacity of 1000 people. 926 people had been on the official list of those who were to be brought into the Vault at the first sign of the bombs going off anywhere else. Appalachia was expected to be a late target of the Chinese, if they targeted it at all, so it was assumed they'd have time, warning – probably when bombs hit D.C., if nothing else.

Of that 926, 834 had actually made it to the Vault before they'd sealed it. Surprisingly good, given the panic that had consumed the roads as soon as the news of the bombs went live – though many of the residents had been alerted sooner… or outright grabbed by government officials or Vault-Tec goons, before the bombs had actually hit their targets, or had hit the news (she wasn't sure which).

And of course, some people were already near the Vaults anyway – why put distance between yourself and the only safe place you had, in case the end of the world really came?

834 people. And, remarkably, until three weeks ago, no deaths. 11 Births, and about a half-dozen more pregnancies that she knew of.

None of the kids were older than seven, so none of them could vote. That had left 833 people in the Vault capable of voting after the death of the Overseer.

Jessica Hayes stared at the vote totals on the screen in front of her.

Richard Villanueva – 397

Jessica Hayes – 341

Nicholas Volkmer – 71

Jake Walker – 12

Ineligible Votes – 4

How?!

She'd run one of the best political campaigns that was possible in this place. Granted, running for Overseer of a closed-off vault was hardly the same thing as becoming manager of Abigale Poole's election campaign to the West Virginia House and giving her the sort of overwhelming victory and political mandate politicians dream of, but -

She'd always figured there was a chance this day would come, and had gone out of her way to court the Overseer, knowing that the 329 Vault-Tec University graduates among Vault 76's population all held the Overseer in high regard. She had friends in every major department of the Vault, knew at least something about almost every single job that got done in the Vault, had earned a lot of good favor over the years helping people out, and she – she-

I ran the better campaign! I know I had more than 341 people committed to voting for me?! I have the damn lists!

Okay, fine, Villanueva was always going to win the majority – by a wide margin – of the former US Military or Federal Government employees in the Vault. He was one of the few residents of the Vault that hadn't been in his early to mid-twenties coming in. And he'd served as Chief of Staff of the White House, worked in a major corporation with close ties to the Federal Government…

So yeah, the majority of that bloc of 197 people had definitely been his, but -

I can't believe a plurality of this Vault would vote for him. He was in his late 50s now, stodgy, conservative, stand-offish, and represented everything she'd come to hate about the American Government in the last ten years before the bombs had dropped. And while she'd never expected most of her fellow 76ers to agree on that last part, it wasn't as though his ideas – such as they were – were any good, or all that relevant.

Communist infiltration was hardly a threat! They needed to be worried about ways to keep the Vault running, ideas on how to prepare to rebuild when they got back to the surface, not getting ready to fight Chinese occupiers of fucking Appalachia when Reclamation Day came.

Even if those Red bastards actually invaded the US after the bombs dropped – assuming they survived the counter-strike we'd almost certainly give them – there's… there's no chance they're invading Appalachia for Christ's sake!

Jessica stared at the screen, as if willing the numbers to change, but even if the few people who hadn't voted did, and they all voted for her… it wouldn't change anything.

Volkmer. Not all of the Chief Maintenance Technician's voters would have voted for her if he'd left the race like she'd tried to get him to, but… enough would have! That asshole Walker's little clique wouldn't have done anything but vote for him.

As she stared at the vote returns, unchanging, she tried to tamp down on the suspicion that Villanueva had done something. That he'd… rigged the vote somehow. Or screwed up the counting. She had no proof. And she couldn't -

The Vault was too small for something like that to be gotten away with, right? She was still convinced more than one election in the last six years before the bombs had dropped had been rigged – the same corporatist ultra-war hawks winning over and over again, despite the riots and the stalemate in Anchorage (until it had finally been liberated) and their increasing unpopularity across the country. Governor Evans – she'd eat a bullet before she actually believe there'd been no shenanigans in his election three years before the end of the world.

He gets caught stealing money from the treasury with the sloppiest embezzlement ever, and gets away, the Commonwealth-wide manhunt only ending because the Chinese Communist Party decided to kick the table over and end the game in the worst possible way.

No one won global thermonuclear war. The fact that Vault-Tec hadn't communicated with them at all, the fact that there'd been no messages from any sort of surviving elements of the US government or the Commonwealth government or the State government, the military -

Anything that has survived was in no condition for America to have 'won' the nuclear exchange, and she could hardly believe the Chinese were any better off.

With any luck, the survivors will spend the next hundred years doing a rerun of one of their warring states periods, and a new Dynasty will rise up. And isn't that the kicker – I'm rooting for a goddamn monarchy to win something.

Jessica had always considered herself a proud American, a lover of democracy, capitalism, apple pie, baseball, everything. And she was.

But she'd also seen where the Country had been going, after the war started.

Oh, the problems went back further, she knew – she'd studied her history, read the banned books, talked to idealistic adults and elderly people – but it was the war, and everything that had come with it, that had ruined everything. She'd hoped, like a lot of people, that things would get better, once the war started winding down, once it really ended. The liberation of Anchorage had seemed like a great sign.

She'd gone into political activism, and then helping to manage campaigns, leading to her running Poole's 2076 campaign at the tender age of 24, because she'd known it would take work to bring back all the things they'd lost, but she'd never been afraid of hard work.

Jessica shook her head. None of that was relevant.

She'd lost the election.

"Well, Overseer Villanueva, congratulations on your victory," she said, turning to the older man, extending a hand. "It seems you won fair and square."

"And you gave me a tough fight," Villanueva said, in that 'you can trust me' pseudo-charming politician voice he always put on. "I guess Vault-Tec knew what they were saying when they called you one of the finest rising political minds of your day," he accepted her hand, giving it a vigorous, firm shake. "I'll be honest," he said in a stage-whisper, leaning forward, playing to the crowd here in the common area as much as trying to win her personally over.

More to the crowd, really, she had to guess.

"I'll be honest," he said again, a surefire sign a man wasn't being honest for her money, "when I put my name forward to become the new Overseer, I expected I'd have this whole thing in a walk, but you ran an impressive campaign, and you've proven that you have the sort of mind and dedication to help this Vault continue to thrive in the future."

"I certainly like to think I do," Jessica agreed. "And you ran a clearly successful and very capable campaign yourself." She added, choosing her words carefully. It had been… unimaginative, to say the least, but it had been effective. He must have understood her fellow 76ers better than she had thought. Just enough to eke out his win, anyway.

"Well, take it from me, you do," Villanueva confirmed, grinning widely, doing a very good job of sounding genuine. "That's why I'd like to offer you the position of Vice-Overseer. If there's one thing the death of my predecessor proved, it's that even in here, anything can happen, and I'd like to make sure we have someone in place to stand in, if god forbid, something happens to me."

He chuckled, "I think you'll agree the way a lot of things have stalled while we did the election isn't ideal."

Jessica hated to admit it, but he was right about that. "True."

She looked into Villanueva's eyes, but it was impossible to get a clear read on the offer. How genuine was it, how much of a trap was it? She was going to remain his biggest rival for popular support going forward, bringing her into his 'administration', naming her his number two person would definitely win a lot of her voters over.

The Vault wasn't exactly a checks and balances sort of Democracy though, so how much did it really matter to him?

Enough. The Vice Presidency wasn't worth a warm bucket of spit, according to the old saying, and the same was probably true about being Vice Overseer, but there was a chance she could use the position. Was it worth giving him her public support?

If she said no, would that erode her support?

All these questions ran through Jessica's head quickly, and she debated saying no, even debated saying no as bluntly and rudely as possible, expressing exactly how she felt about her opponent and his plans for the Vault.

All those resources he's going to waste on making more weapons from the industrial feed-stock, and the time wasted 'training' everyone to 'fight the Chinese', once we leave. Sweet mother of fucking mercy do I really want to have to put up with that crap? With his crap?

But it really wasn't a choice, was it? She had to say yes.

"I'm honored you'd trust me with such a position. I accept, and I look forward to working with you, Overseer." She pasted a smile on her face as she said it – Villanueva wasn't the only one who could pull that stupid trick.

February 12th, 2086

Overseer's Office, Vault 76

Hell, even a warm bucket of spit is overpriced, it seems.

Jessica hadn't really expected she'd have much chance to really convince Villanueva to focus resources on preparing for going out into Appalachia – rad survival drills, and how to purify water without the equipment here, how to organize the survivors that might still be out there… Those were all things the last Overseer had started them on. There'd been plans for round table discussion groups about things such as theories about how best to do power generation out there, how to salvage things, theorizing about the state of the world – how badly would things have collapsed?

There were a lot of theories about how things would have gone? Complete anarchy, everyone dying off in an orgy of violence? Small scattered groups of survivors out for their own? Communities rebuilding? Maybe even a survival of some sort of centralized government in Appalachia, centered around surviving government or military officials?

A lot of theories and possibilities.

The fact that neither Vault-Tec nor the Federal Government had contacted them at all in the last eight and a half years proved that the most optimistic scenarios, that the bombardment wouldn't cause a complete collapse in central communications and organized government were wrong.

There'd been some hope, Jessica knew, that enough of the government would have made it out, gotten to safety, that enough of the military could have retained cohesiveness that maybe, just maybe, the USA would still exist after the bombs dropped.

Clearly not.

But Villanueva wasn't interested in actually finding out what had happened. No. He was so sure they needed to be prepared to resume the war against the Communists.

Acting quickly, from the moment he'd formally been sworn in as Overseer, he'd shut down most of the workshops already in place, and shut down every plan in the works for more. Nope. Time to prepare for communists. Oh, and of course, just in case a Chinese Spy had gotten into the Vault, there were new, more stringent searches to be implemented of people's quarters.

Thankfully, that one seemed to be getting real push back from the population, and security was hard pressed to force the issue. It had distracted and divided them.

Which was how she'd managed to break into the Overseer's office. There wasn't anyone posted in front of the door, and the one guy on patrol had been easy enough for her and her compatriot to sneak by.

Jessica wasn't really sure what her plan was. Villanueva was caught up in a meeting that she wasn't supposed to know about (not that he'd invited her to any of the 14 secret meetings he'd had in the six days since he'd taken over. She knew about them, but unfortunately, none of her friends or allies – mysteriously – had been in any of the meetings.

She wasn't sure what she was after, honestly. Something she could use against Villanueva. Anything that could convince him that maybe, just maybe, he needed to rein it in.

Or else, of course.

"How did you learn to spoof the door like that?" Casey asked quietly, as they slipped into the office, the door quickly going back down behind them.

"Enough people lock themselves out of utility closets or into utility closets or stuff like that," Jessica replied. And if you volunteered for all the little jobs no one wanted, you picked up a few things. Granted, she hadn't expected it to be useful for this, but…

"All the locks here work on the same principles." She added.

"The things you miss when you're stuck in the kitchen department all day," Casey grumbled. Her closest friend in the Vault had a degree on culinary science, and was the second highest ranking person in the Kitchen department, helping to plan and cook meals for the whole Vault, liaising with the hydroponics and medical departments on availability and the dietary needs of everyone.

But she didn't get many chances to do much outside of her field of focus, whereas Jessica had always been a bit of a floater, filling in wherever she was needed.

"You're doing God's work, making some of the stuff you have to work with edible," Jessica assured Casey. She bit her lip, looking around. Villanueva hadn't wasted his time making the office feel more 'his'. The framed degrees and awards on the wall were all his. He'd brought in some of the personal items from his old room, it looked like, items she didn't recognize from anytime she'd been here before arranged on the desk.

She was a little surprised spoofing the electronic lock here had been as easy as doing it on utility closets, but now she was in here and…

She didn't know where to start.

"Check the file cabinets… see if there's anything that… I don't know. Anything that seems out of place, or new, or I dunno, a folder labeled 'My Evil Plan to Steal the Election'."

"You don't really think he stole the election somehow?" Casey protested, even though she moved over to the cabinet, experimentally testing one drawer to see if it was locked. It wasn't. Casey looked back at her, eyes wide. "Villanueva is an ass, but he wouldn't do anything like that. Besides if you had any reason to suspect… you'd have said something, right?"

"I have no good reason, just… a gut feeling." Jessica shook her head. "There's nothing I could have said that wouldn't have made me sound like a sore loser."

"You're breaking into his office to find something you can threaten or blackmail him with." Casey countered, rolling her eyes just a little. "I think the 'sore loser' ship has sailed."

"I'm doing this for the Vault, the man's – he's going to waste so many resources and so much manpower on this fixation of his!" Jessica insisted, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head.

She went to the terminal, hooking her Pipboy up to it, breaking past its security after filtering her way through the junk data to pick out Villanueva's password.

There were several headings, including 'Journal Entries' and 'Project Drafts'. A quick look into both suggested that he'd just imported his journal and other files from his old terminal in his old quarters. Too many entries to look through now. One thing that did catch her eye was a whole section labeled 'Previous Owner Archive'. All the files from the old Overseer. She looked through the other file headings, and realized there were none of the files she'd have expected to see, stuff from Vault-Tec. But the Overseer had said Vault-Tec left all sorts of contingency instructions? She remembered that conversation.

Did Villanueva just toss it all into that file archive? Did that idiot not even check to see if there was anything important there?

Maybe I can find something I can use to convince everyone else this is a bad idea.

She accessed the archive, waiting for it to load up, quickly scanning through the subject headings, the filenames…

And then one caught her eye. Namely because of the words 'CONFIDENTIAL – OVERSEER'S EYES ONLY' on it, and a notation on the file data that suggested that if Villanueva hadn't just chucked it all into a file archive, it would have been protected by another password.

For a moment she debated – this wasn't what she was here for.

But curiosity killed the cat.

CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL

OVERSEER EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01076

Twenty-five (25) years after the Vault Doors close, you are to prepare your citizens to leave Vault 76 entirely and begin a process called "Reclamation." Specifics will be disseminated automatically as that time approaches.

After Reclamation Day, you are personally ordered to find and secure the three nuclear silos in West Virginia code-named ALPHA, BRAVO, and CHARLIE. If these sites are still nuclear capable ensure no one except Vault-Tec can access or launch nuclear ordnance.

To be clear, even if there are other authorities (whether government, militia, or otherwise) their claims are to be ignored. Vault-Tec alone maintains jurisdiction.

What the FUCK?

Nuclear silos in Appalachia?

Why would- why would anyone put a silo here?

Because no one would suspect it? The answer supplied itself.

But the rest of it – questions ran through her mind, and she tried to think of good answers.

"Casey, get over here, look at this," she gestured to the screen, and Casey turned away from the drawer she was looking through and moved quickly over towards the desk, coming around quietly. Jessica shifted to give Casey a good view of the screen, and her friend stared, mouth slowly opening into an 'O' as she read.

"Since when are there nuclear silos in West Virginia?"

"Well, they wouldn't advertise their locations, would they?" Jessica pointed out. "They'd want to keep them secret. But they have to be really well hidden, because I've heard nothing about them. Not even Treasure of Appalachia-style rumors." Everyone had heard those. The stories that the Government was hiding something really important somewhere in or around West Virginia, in the event of a nuclear war. Something valuable. Something secret.

But the rumors tended to be insane – alien technology, clones of government officials, mind control machines. The sort of stuff those Free States lunatics talked about.

Hell, no, even the Free States don't talk about aliens and stuff.

"But that's not the point. What business does a corporation like Vault-Tec have with saying 'we should own nuclear silos?'" Jessica added. "That – that's – I mean, to the point of ignoring the government? Any government?"

"Is there even a government left out there to take control of them?" Casey inhaled slowly after she said that, the action sounding strained.

"Is there even a Vault-Tec corporation left to do anything with them?"

"If the CEOs and other execs aren't in a Vault somewhere, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't wear hats," Jessica held back a smile, Casey's smirk always one of her most annoyingly attractive features. She shook her head, gesturing back at the screen. "And fine, maybe the company's leadership is alive somewhere, but they're clearly cut off from communication with the other vaults. And there may not be a government out there, maybe, but I – do you trust Villanueva with those silos, if they still work?"

Casey stared at Jessica, eyes wide, mouth open, making a few horrified sounds and then, "No. I – no. Not even close."

He'd launch them at China or something, and for fuck's sake if anyone even survives over there, there's no point in nuking them 25 years after the war ends! Especially if someone over there had nuclear missiles to fire back with. And knowing how obsessed Villanueva was, he'd be willing to…

Jessica shook her head. She didn't even want to imagine what he'd do.

Then a horrifying thought hit her.

"This is exactly the sort of thing I was looking for, proof this idiot isn't doing his job right, but we can't – I can't – we can't let him know about this." Jessica gaped wordlessly, trying to finish her thought.

"It's on his computer. He'll see it eventually, right?"

"Not if we delete the file." Jessica copied it to her Pipboy, interrupting her copying of Villanueva's other files, and then deleting the original file. The whole process took longer than she'd have liked – the computer rejected several of her attempts and she had to break out every trick she'd ever heard of for computers to try to get it to work.

Jessica was no programming expert, just an enthusiastic amateur. She could think of several people who could have done this faster, but…

If he hadn't removed the password on this file, it would have been a lot harder to get rid of.

By the time she was done, her eyes darted to the clock on the wall.

"Shit!" She scrambled to disconnect her pipboy from the terminal, gesturing to Casey to close up all the drawers. There was no more time.

Because Villanueva was going to be back in this office inside of seven minutes, and they needed to be well away from here.

What she'd gotten from his journal entries had to be enough to find something to rein him in.

February 20th, 2086

Entrance, Vault 76

"I want it on the record that you are absolutely insane!" Sandy said as Jessica got off the elevator. "And I'm even more insane for agreeing to help you!"

"I'm running on sleep deprivation, too much Nuka-Cola and I'm about three levels of conspiracies theories down the rabbit hole," Jessica snapped. She'd only slept a few hours each the last few nights, between worry that she and Casey would be caught for their B&E, reading through Villanueva's insufferably smug journal entries, worrying about those silos and why Vault-Tec wanted them, and every stupid, insane, short-sighted design Villanueva was making…

Just yesterday he started burning books.

Well, feeding them to the garbage incinerator. Books that weren't even banned before the war.

She took a deep breath. "Sorry." She took another breath. "I – I know this is stupid. There's so many ways this could go wrong. But I can't just stay here for the next 16 years waiting for Villanueva and his goons to get control of nuclear silos. Or put up with him running this place in the meantime. And the other choice is to start a civil war in the Vault, and that's… that's an even worse idea."

"I'm not so sure it is." Sandy admitted quietly. "But he's got the Security Chief and too many of the ex-military types on his side, most of the weapons… if we planned it right though..." she bit her lower lip for a moment.

"I'm not going to get dozens or even hundreds of people killed over this." She really had let herself run away with conspiracy theories, that Villanueva knew all along, and that he'd rigged or otherwise messed with the election with other Vault-Tec appointees in the vault, like the Security Chief, to make sure no one who wasn't establishment ended up in control of the silos.

She thought about all the weird absences by government officials in the days leading up the bombing – the President being in an undisclosed place with the fear of nukes being so high was understandable, if cowardly

What if the Treasure of Appalachia was real? What if it was the Silos? Or something else?

The Free Staters had never trusted Vault-Tec, and it wasn't like Jessica had ever thought of them as anything other than a corporation out to make a buck – even Vault 76 was that, a showpiece, paid for by the government rather than the residents booking slots, an advertising gimmick.

She'd accepted the slot when offered because she'd…

Because she'd decided surviving a nuclear apocalypse was worth the risk.

And she'd always figured the Free Staters were nuts when it came to Vault-Tec, and they took their distrust of the government way too far, but -

That was before she found out the corporation was trying to get it's hands on nukes. Which made her second-guess everything.

And so here she was, a backpack on her back stuffed with as many supplies, radiation meds and other things she might need – including a 10mm pistol Sandy had helped her get out of the security armory, and some ammunition – along with a Portable Shelter – a highly compressed, collapsible little structure that could be expanded into a durable, if small, structure, and then collapsed back down. One of Vault-Tec's most impressive inventions, a recent innovation, the first run of them sent to Vault 76 just weeks before the bombs dropped, from what she understood.

If that's even true. Maybe they told that to all the Vaults?

And so, probably out of paranoia and sleep deprivation, shed hit on this wonderful plan.

Go out there, and find those nuclear silos herself and… something? Find out what things were like on the surface – all they had was working Geiger counters monitoring the outside, which said that background radiation in the air was within acceptable limits, even if not ideal.

I'll probably knock ten years off my life expectancy, if mutant tribes of cannibal raiders don't rip my rib cage out and wear it as a hat. Assuming those were a thing.

She'd find out, restore the external radio connection to the Vault, message back… her friends and allies could break out if need be, or…

"And then what? You're one woman. You can't take control of military installations all on your own? What if there is a government out there, and we just can't receive their messages? Or, you know, all the worst projections happened and the places is overgrown by giant mutant bugs and psychotic drug-addled cannibals?" Sandy demanded.

She crossed her arms, "Not to mention the fact that even if we go with you having gotten the drop on me and knocked me out, I'm losing my cushy gig as guard at the entrance. I love this. I get to be alone for eight hours at a time." She sighed, lowering her arms to her sides. "In this place, that's precious."

"I – I don't know." Jessica admitted. "I – this plan is missing steps, I know, but I – I have to do this. I just… I can't ask anyone else to do this, and if I stay here any longer, I'm going to either go mad or strangle that fucking bastard. Maybe both. And… at the last meeting we had, one of Villanueva's cronies suggested sending someone outside the Vault to 'scout'. He shot it down, but he gave me a really thoughtful look while he said it."

She wouldn't put it past him to find a way to make her the scout, and then conveniently her Pipboy would somehow be locked out from returning or… something.

"Pretty sure that's just a combination of sleep deprivation and your messiah and savior complexes talking." Sandy suggested. "I like you, I voted for you, and you'd make an infinitely better Overseer than Villanueva, but Jessica, you are an egotistical megalomaniac on your best day. You just happen to manifest it by thinking it's your sole duty to save the world at the cost of your own health, mental or otherwise. And of course, that no one else is capable of doing what only you can do."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jessica thought insistently, ignoring both Sandy and the nagging feeling her friend was right.

"Remind me why a girl working on Psychology Doctorate ended up in Vault Security?"

"Because I can shoot better than almost everyone in this Vault apart from most of the former military types, and the position of Therapist is already taken by Professor Dayton." Sandy drawled.

Sandy pinched the bridge of her nose. "I am going to regret this on so many levels, and you're going to regret this on more, but if you're going to do it, now's the time. Jam the elevator, knock me out, and open the door. Last chance to back out."

Jessica inhaled, closing her eyes.

An age and a half later, she opened then again, shaking her head. "No. I'm not backing out. It's time to see how badly West Virginia got nuked."