This is the first time I've posted to the NMA forums, but I've been a fan of the site and Fallout in general for many years. Take a look at this piece of fan fiction and let me know what you think!
Start:
War. War never changes. The reasons for war or the names of the soldiers that wage it
may change, but war always stays the same.
The Last Great War came on the heels of a crisis of resources. For jobs the Latin
American Confederation annexed many southern states of the fading United States of
America. For oil to sate the giant hunger of its titanic economy, China invaded the
expansive petroleum fields of Alaska. To suppress a worldwide outbreak of religious
fanaticism, the democratic nations of the world sent their armies to foreign lands.
No one knows for sure who dropped the first bomb. It isn’t important. For the
people that lived through the Last Great War survival mattered most.
Some people scavenged the wastes. Others held on to hope and stitched together
ramshackle communities with spit and blood. A few lucky souls found shelter in solid
Vaults buried deep within the earth. Most Vault dwellers passed the years maintaining
their secret and artificial environments, surviving themselves with children that never saw
a natural sunset.
But not all Vault dwellers skulked in their concrete and steel caves. Some studied
great artifacts from the pre-War Earth – mysterious items with the potential to heal the
ravaged planet and its peoples. Others worked to restore what had been lost in the nuclear
holocaust. Shadows of the great governments of the past emerged from some of these
Vaults to reclaim their lands and stolen destinies.
And some dwellers feared that, after so much devastation, war was on the rise
again. Life in the Vaults was about to change.
It was a new world. It was a new war. But war never changes and the children of
the Last Great War knew that it was always the same.
Wasteland Wanderings, Chapter 3: The Last American President
The Wanderer
The President’s Dead and So Are We
Two more hours to dawn and the cold wasteland winds are cutting my skin with biting
gnats of sand. I can see the lights of Phoenix. They aren’t far off, ten miles or so to the
Southwest. I’ll make it there before noon if I keep this up, if the Brotherhood of Steel
isn’t hunting me.
They sure didn’t miss my exit! From what I saw they were pretty broken up about
it. They helped me escape. I appreciate that. All things being equal, I’d owe them. But
that’s not the way it worked out.
Damn the President, wherever he is now. Falling out of the sky with the other
radioactive dust over California or toasting away deep down with the Devil. Both, I
imagine.
Well, at least I still have my neck and there’s no collar around it. But I’ve lost the
kid and the world is about to end again.
When I have the time, I’ll add to this journal. Viktor always told me to keep good
records. But then again… some people are willing to kill for the right information.
Vault 27 April 28th, 2142
“The President’s dead and so are we – unless we work together.”
I had just started my computer lab when Viktor rushed up and dragged me into his
administrative office. It took me a second to process what he’d said, the gravity of it. The
leader of the free world was dead?
“I don’t know he’s dead for certain, but most of the Enclavers online believe that
he is.” Viktor sat behind his worn mahogany desk in his large cracked-leather chair. As
he motioned for me to sit, a widening smile appeared on his creased face. “Things are
about to get very interesting for us.”
“And dangerous too.” I sat in one of the two short metal and plastic chairs
stationed before Viktor’s wide pre-War relic. I often sat in those chairs as he lectured
from his bench on the merits of certain scientific theories. My neck was used to the
unpleasant stress I placed on it as I looked up to see his face. “Is this a joke?”
“No, it isn’t. Sorry, I didn’t mean to convey that. Man is easily betrayed by his
animalistic tendencies. I anticipate a threat and my body displays excitement. With
discipline one can control the instinct.” Viktor stood up abruptly and turned his back to
me. I heard him breath deeply for a few seconds before he let out a long sigh and returned
to his seat. His new face was that of a teacher – familiar, congenial, condescending.
“There, see? Reason masters nature.
“Felix, two days ago a nuclear explosion destroyed an old oil rig off the coast of
California. No one on the Enclave net admits to knowing who used the weapon, but they
all believe that it was an intentional act. As often as their reasoning displays a lack of
rationality, they do have cause to believe there was a purpose there. Nuclear explosions
are extremely complex phenomena. Many difficult thresholds must be reached with
tremendous timing to produce a high-yield result – tripping over a power cord or spilling
a cup of coffee on a keyboard will cause a failure in the device before it causes a
detonation.”
Viktor rarely spoke to me about weapons. Sometimes he’d comment about the
deficiencies of some of the sidearms the Enclave troops wore around the Vault. But he
never let me ask more about them. I do admit to a strong curiosity of weaponry. He told
me more than once that it was only natural for me to want to know about the guns since
civies, like the two of us, weren’t allowed to carry them. I wondered and he dismissed.
“Who has a nuke and why would they use one now, Viktor?”
It didn’t occur to me then to question him about the source of his knowledge. I
was his student, after all. No one else in the Vault knew as much as him when it came to
the world both above and below ground. Maybe Trudeau or Corso, but I didn’t ask them.
“Those are both good questions,” Viktor nodded his head in the bobbing manner I
had observed him use when he worked out mathematical solutions in the classroom.
“Were you to ask that outside this office I would worry about someone else having heard
it. As things are now, we’re best off if we keep this between the two of us here. Okay?”
I fidgeted a nod and shifted my position in the tiny seat.
“Good. Felix, nuclear bombs continue to plague the Earth. They aren’t hand-me-
downs from before the War; those warheads have long since decayed into disrepair. But
the technical knowledge of their construction remains in places like this. The Enclave has
some refurbished nukes and it’s possible that the Brotherhood of Steel has acquired one.
It’s also possible that other nuclear powers from before the War survived and have rebuilt
some of their arsenals. The human penchant for destruction is built into our blood.” He
stood up and paced behind his desk. When he returned to his tall, withered seat he threw
me a cold look. “Yes, why a nuclear bomb and why now? … In order to avert a global
disaster, Felix. Whoever or whatever set it off saved the world and killed the President in
the process. And we may be next.”
A lot can change in a single day. Yesterday I was worried about upcoming midterms and
looked forward to legally buying my first bottle of Gamma Gulp beer. Today I’m burying
excess supplies of 9mm ammo and my resilient Vault 27 jumpsuit in a rusted toolbox
behind an abandoned gas station a mile outside of Phoenix. I never thought I’d be
spending my eighteenth birthday looking for a mad little twerp and begging for a job in
this wasteland hole.
History tapes I viewed in the Vault media library said that the nuclear part of the
Last Great War only lasted a couple of hours. The US fought bravely on the Northern and
Southern fronts, but when the enemy deployed tactical nuclear weapons against our
conventional forces the escalation spread into a world-wide holocaust. When I asked
Viktor about the end of the War he said that the nations involved were already dead by
the time the bombs fell. Their death spasms lit the planet on fire.
How he could think it was justified, I’ll never understand.
I haven’t forgotten the day he told me that it was a terrible but necessary moment
in human history. It was my fifteenth birthday and I had just submitted my selective
service registration to the Vault recruitment officer when Viktor pulled me in to his
office.
“I’ve arranged with the Enclave to have you assigned to Tau Laboratories as a
technician,” Viktor said as he handed me a packet of papers stuffed into a binder. “Fill
these out and get them back to me in an hour. Then the Vault security officer is going to
have a talk with you about your new job. I don’t expect you’re in the habit of lying, speak
only the truth with Corso and you’ll do well. You’ve spent most of your life here so the
background check won’t take long.”
I had thought that the Enclave would draft me when I was old enough for military
service. Pete Sizemore had disappeared the year before, a week after his fifteenth. Pete
and I used to play a game in the cafeteria to see who could stuff the most Happy Moon
pies into our mouths without gagging. He always won. He hadn’t said a thing about
joining up. He just vanished. Don’t get me wrong, I fancied the idea of getting my own
suit of powered armor and a gauss pistol. Being able to buy booze three years before the
other kids was cause enough to join up. Plus, helping Americans establish townships and
protecting them from raiders and muties seemed like fun. I didn’t sleep much the night
before my birthday.
“They’re not going to draft me?”
“Why would they do that when you are needed here? What we do here is far more
important for the human race than anything the Enclave does with their guns. We plan for
the future here – humanity’s future – and you’re going to help. Remember that everything
happens for a reason, Felix. There is always a cause for an effect. Even the Last Great
War. We needed the War, without it the human race might have ended years ago.”
After that he handed me a black ink pen and sent me off to fill out my tax forms
and obtain copies of my social security and Vault ID cards.
I thought about what Viktor had said many times over the next three years. I
thought about how he had had me transferred to Tau Labs and took away any chance I
had of joining the military.
‘The human race might have ended years ago’, I often mulled. It seemed to me
that the death of billions of people in that nuclear firestorm was the end of the world.
Every time I brought it up he would deflect my questions and hand me another task
within the lab. Had the President not died there’s no telling how long I would have
wondered about it. But he did and Viktor brought it up again and it became apparent to
me that though events do have reasons of their own those reasons aren’t always right.
Vault 27 April 28th, 2142
“How can a nuclear bomb save the world?”
My education in the Vault had taught me the peaceful applications of nuclear
technology: engineering transportation super-highways through granite mountain ranges
or the production of cheap and plentiful electrical power. That didn’t seem to be what
Viktor was talking about. Aside from ending the Second World War before the Japanese
could surrender to the Commies, I hadn’t heard of another beneficially aggressive use of
the Bomb.
My teacher fiddled with papers on his desktop and began arranging them into
separate piles.
“Precarious as it was, Felix, bombs protected the world for many years through
the use of Mutually Assured Destruction. It was only after the world’s oil wells began to
dry up that nations became belligerent enough to abandon MAD. That was ages ago.
Please don’t waste our time with generalizations, not now. This bomb saved the world by
destroying a project that could have catastrophically affected the only true hope for the
planet.”
At this point in our conversation, I felt a sudden urge to take a shower. I couldn’t
help feeling that shovels were heaving stinking piles of excrement into the large office.
My disbelief must have shone because Viktor leapt from behind his bench holding two
sheets of printer paper and commanded me to read them for myself. From copies he
loaded on to my PiPBoy, this is what they said:
Document 1
*** EMERGENCY ACTION MESSAGE ***
message to follow
crypto key: alpha-alpha-echo-charlie-tango-charlie-delta-2
sync comms… 3… 2… 1… mark
authentication key: 4T6W1HP9
Date: 0500Z April 28th, 2142
To: All Enclave Commanders and Executive Cabinet members ALLCOM
From: President Peligro Barber, Commander in Chief CINC
Body:
My fellow Americans,
Two days ago unknown wasteland forces attacked and completely destroyed
Enclave research outpost Poseidon Rig 3. I have learned that the President and Vice-
President Bird were both on the platform during the attack. Subsequent searches of the
California area of operations have been unable to locate any survivors.
By the powers given to me by the United States Constitution, and as witnessed by
Secretaries Hamilton and Lazardo, I have assumed the Presidency. The Under Congress
is aware of the developing situation in the West and will hold an official swearing-in
ceremony after we have stabilized the country.
All Enclave installations are here-by ordered to full alert preparedness and
Distributed Facilities are ordered to consolidate to their pre-designated Redoubts by pre-
arranged contingency schemes. The use of nuclear weapons is authorized. We must pool
our resources and secure our assets in light of this new and unknown threat.
I have tasked the Sub-Pentagon with investigating the attack. It is of the utmost
importance to the nation that we discover the identity of all involved in this heinous act of
war.
Justice will prevail. Long live the Presidency and the United States of America.
President Peligro Barber
CINC April 28th, 2142
Postscript: Individual command orders to follow.
*** EMERGENCY ACTION MESSAGE ***
Document 2
*** FLASH URGENT ***
message to follow
crypto key: delta-whiskey-november-charlie-tango-alpha-alpha-6
sync comms… 3… 2… 1… mark
authentication key: J5W9F927
Date: 0501Z April 28th, 2142
To: Colonel William Trudeau V27COM
From: General Terrence Hillenkoeter, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff JSC
Colonel Trudeau,
You are to secure and vacate Vault 27 and transport all essential Enclave assets to
Redoubt WPAFB by no later than 0500Z May 5th, 2142. Execute Vault-specific
contingency plan Daisy Parade as opportunity presents itself.
The Joint Chiefs are aware of the special nature of your command and have
dispatched a full Special Operations company (USSOCOM designation COBRA) to
assist you on site. Expect their arrival at 0230Z April 29th, 2142.
Get it done, Colonel.
General Terrence Hillenkoeter
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff
JCS April 28th, 2142
*** FLASH URGENT ***
The notes suggested that the President was dead and that the Vault had been
ordered cleared. I didn’t register that Viktor had just handed me decrypted Enclave traffic
and that I was violating federal law by reading it. At the time, I took comfort in the fact
that the Executive and Legislative branches of the government had overcome the attack
and continued to command. I still didn’t understand why Viktor believed we were in
mortal danger. I shrugged my shoulders and told him as much. He resumed his leather
throne and threw me a pitiful frown.
“I had no idea of how thoroughly you have been kept in the dark about your
country. I did all I could to counter the fantasies they fed you in that cursed media
library,” Viktor’s face turned to stone as he pontificated. “The United States doesn’t exist
anymore, Felix. The people are scattered and the lands are barely habitable. What’s left
of the government concerns itself primarily with maintaining its own survival – its own
power. You read the letter from Barber. ‘We must pool our resources and secure our
assets in light of this new and unknown threat’!”
“The country has to protect itself! What would you have us do?” A sudden rage
boiled over me and I jumped up from my seat. How could Viktor talk about the President
like that? These were hard times. The President knew what was best for the country.
“We’re the only hope for freedom in the wastes, doc. How should we respond when
someone threatens our liberty?”
“And while the brave Enclave soldiers follow their orders and move to their
military havens, what happens to the people that live under their protection – like you and
your friends here? Do you think that the Enclave can move all those civilians to new and
safe homes? I know you're not a fool, Felix. Stop viewing the world as one.”
I sat back in my small seat, my limbs quivering. I wanted to believe that they had
the ability to take care of us. How long had I lived in the Vault, fifteen years? All that
time the Enclave guns kept my underground sanctuary secure. I ate well and went to
school. I did my job and was paid for my work. Still, the Reclaimed States boasted
colossal post-War populations. Were there too many people for the military to protect
effectively?
Had Viktor not handed me another facsimile I probably would have continued to
argue with him about the Enclave. The note, of which I never received a copy, was titled
“Order of Operations: Daisy Parade.” It recorded in meticulous and sometimes horrible
detail the imminent liquidation of Vault 27. Of particular importance to me were the
sections that spoke of the Vault’s civilian population. A limited number of key scientists
were to accompany the Enclave troops to WPAFB, which Viktor told me was Wright-
Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio. Viktor was to join the Vault officers in transferring
‘sensitive’ materials to WPAFB via vertibird. The rest of the people, including me, were
to join Special Operations forces in a foot-bound exodus from the fallout shelter. When
we were far enough away, so as not to jeopardize the Vault’s secret location, the Enclave
commandos were ordered to eliminate us all and make it appear like we had been waylaid
by bandits.
“It’s not the country you think it is, Felix.” Viktor placed his hand on my shoulder
and I saw that he struggled to hold back his own tears. “It was great once, you can be sure
of that. But now it’s twisted and it needs a hand in making itself right.”
End
Thanks in advance for your input!
--antimike
P.S. I'm not sure how to format this in the forums to have tab breaks between paragraphs, so I had to use line break formatting.
Start:
War. War never changes. The reasons for war or the names of the soldiers that wage it
may change, but war always stays the same.
The Last Great War came on the heels of a crisis of resources. For jobs the Latin
American Confederation annexed many southern states of the fading United States of
America. For oil to sate the giant hunger of its titanic economy, China invaded the
expansive petroleum fields of Alaska. To suppress a worldwide outbreak of religious
fanaticism, the democratic nations of the world sent their armies to foreign lands.
No one knows for sure who dropped the first bomb. It isn’t important. For the
people that lived through the Last Great War survival mattered most.
Some people scavenged the wastes. Others held on to hope and stitched together
ramshackle communities with spit and blood. A few lucky souls found shelter in solid
Vaults buried deep within the earth. Most Vault dwellers passed the years maintaining
their secret and artificial environments, surviving themselves with children that never saw
a natural sunset.
But not all Vault dwellers skulked in their concrete and steel caves. Some studied
great artifacts from the pre-War Earth – mysterious items with the potential to heal the
ravaged planet and its peoples. Others worked to restore what had been lost in the nuclear
holocaust. Shadows of the great governments of the past emerged from some of these
Vaults to reclaim their lands and stolen destinies.
And some dwellers feared that, after so much devastation, war was on the rise
again. Life in the Vaults was about to change.
It was a new world. It was a new war. But war never changes and the children of
the Last Great War knew that it was always the same.
Wasteland Wanderings, Chapter 3: The Last American President
The Wanderer
The President’s Dead and So Are We
Two more hours to dawn and the cold wasteland winds are cutting my skin with biting
gnats of sand. I can see the lights of Phoenix. They aren’t far off, ten miles or so to the
Southwest. I’ll make it there before noon if I keep this up, if the Brotherhood of Steel
isn’t hunting me.
They sure didn’t miss my exit! From what I saw they were pretty broken up about
it. They helped me escape. I appreciate that. All things being equal, I’d owe them. But
that’s not the way it worked out.
Damn the President, wherever he is now. Falling out of the sky with the other
radioactive dust over California or toasting away deep down with the Devil. Both, I
imagine.
Well, at least I still have my neck and there’s no collar around it. But I’ve lost the
kid and the world is about to end again.
When I have the time, I’ll add to this journal. Viktor always told me to keep good
records. But then again… some people are willing to kill for the right information.
Vault 27 April 28th, 2142
“The President’s dead and so are we – unless we work together.”
I had just started my computer lab when Viktor rushed up and dragged me into his
administrative office. It took me a second to process what he’d said, the gravity of it. The
leader of the free world was dead?
“I don’t know he’s dead for certain, but most of the Enclavers online believe that
he is.” Viktor sat behind his worn mahogany desk in his large cracked-leather chair. As
he motioned for me to sit, a widening smile appeared on his creased face. “Things are
about to get very interesting for us.”
“And dangerous too.” I sat in one of the two short metal and plastic chairs
stationed before Viktor’s wide pre-War relic. I often sat in those chairs as he lectured
from his bench on the merits of certain scientific theories. My neck was used to the
unpleasant stress I placed on it as I looked up to see his face. “Is this a joke?”
“No, it isn’t. Sorry, I didn’t mean to convey that. Man is easily betrayed by his
animalistic tendencies. I anticipate a threat and my body displays excitement. With
discipline one can control the instinct.” Viktor stood up abruptly and turned his back to
me. I heard him breath deeply for a few seconds before he let out a long sigh and returned
to his seat. His new face was that of a teacher – familiar, congenial, condescending.
“There, see? Reason masters nature.
“Felix, two days ago a nuclear explosion destroyed an old oil rig off the coast of
California. No one on the Enclave net admits to knowing who used the weapon, but they
all believe that it was an intentional act. As often as their reasoning displays a lack of
rationality, they do have cause to believe there was a purpose there. Nuclear explosions
are extremely complex phenomena. Many difficult thresholds must be reached with
tremendous timing to produce a high-yield result – tripping over a power cord or spilling
a cup of coffee on a keyboard will cause a failure in the device before it causes a
detonation.”
Viktor rarely spoke to me about weapons. Sometimes he’d comment about the
deficiencies of some of the sidearms the Enclave troops wore around the Vault. But he
never let me ask more about them. I do admit to a strong curiosity of weaponry. He told
me more than once that it was only natural for me to want to know about the guns since
civies, like the two of us, weren’t allowed to carry them. I wondered and he dismissed.
“Who has a nuke and why would they use one now, Viktor?”
It didn’t occur to me then to question him about the source of his knowledge. I
was his student, after all. No one else in the Vault knew as much as him when it came to
the world both above and below ground. Maybe Trudeau or Corso, but I didn’t ask them.
“Those are both good questions,” Viktor nodded his head in the bobbing manner I
had observed him use when he worked out mathematical solutions in the classroom.
“Were you to ask that outside this office I would worry about someone else having heard
it. As things are now, we’re best off if we keep this between the two of us here. Okay?”
I fidgeted a nod and shifted my position in the tiny seat.
“Good. Felix, nuclear bombs continue to plague the Earth. They aren’t hand-me-
downs from before the War; those warheads have long since decayed into disrepair. But
the technical knowledge of their construction remains in places like this. The Enclave has
some refurbished nukes and it’s possible that the Brotherhood of Steel has acquired one.
It’s also possible that other nuclear powers from before the War survived and have rebuilt
some of their arsenals. The human penchant for destruction is built into our blood.” He
stood up and paced behind his desk. When he returned to his tall, withered seat he threw
me a cold look. “Yes, why a nuclear bomb and why now? … In order to avert a global
disaster, Felix. Whoever or whatever set it off saved the world and killed the President in
the process. And we may be next.”
A lot can change in a single day. Yesterday I was worried about upcoming midterms and
looked forward to legally buying my first bottle of Gamma Gulp beer. Today I’m burying
excess supplies of 9mm ammo and my resilient Vault 27 jumpsuit in a rusted toolbox
behind an abandoned gas station a mile outside of Phoenix. I never thought I’d be
spending my eighteenth birthday looking for a mad little twerp and begging for a job in
this wasteland hole.
History tapes I viewed in the Vault media library said that the nuclear part of the
Last Great War only lasted a couple of hours. The US fought bravely on the Northern and
Southern fronts, but when the enemy deployed tactical nuclear weapons against our
conventional forces the escalation spread into a world-wide holocaust. When I asked
Viktor about the end of the War he said that the nations involved were already dead by
the time the bombs fell. Their death spasms lit the planet on fire.
How he could think it was justified, I’ll never understand.
I haven’t forgotten the day he told me that it was a terrible but necessary moment
in human history. It was my fifteenth birthday and I had just submitted my selective
service registration to the Vault recruitment officer when Viktor pulled me in to his
office.
“I’ve arranged with the Enclave to have you assigned to Tau Laboratories as a
technician,” Viktor said as he handed me a packet of papers stuffed into a binder. “Fill
these out and get them back to me in an hour. Then the Vault security officer is going to
have a talk with you about your new job. I don’t expect you’re in the habit of lying, speak
only the truth with Corso and you’ll do well. You’ve spent most of your life here so the
background check won’t take long.”
I had thought that the Enclave would draft me when I was old enough for military
service. Pete Sizemore had disappeared the year before, a week after his fifteenth. Pete
and I used to play a game in the cafeteria to see who could stuff the most Happy Moon
pies into our mouths without gagging. He always won. He hadn’t said a thing about
joining up. He just vanished. Don’t get me wrong, I fancied the idea of getting my own
suit of powered armor and a gauss pistol. Being able to buy booze three years before the
other kids was cause enough to join up. Plus, helping Americans establish townships and
protecting them from raiders and muties seemed like fun. I didn’t sleep much the night
before my birthday.
“They’re not going to draft me?”
“Why would they do that when you are needed here? What we do here is far more
important for the human race than anything the Enclave does with their guns. We plan for
the future here – humanity’s future – and you’re going to help. Remember that everything
happens for a reason, Felix. There is always a cause for an effect. Even the Last Great
War. We needed the War, without it the human race might have ended years ago.”
After that he handed me a black ink pen and sent me off to fill out my tax forms
and obtain copies of my social security and Vault ID cards.
I thought about what Viktor had said many times over the next three years. I
thought about how he had had me transferred to Tau Labs and took away any chance I
had of joining the military.
‘The human race might have ended years ago’, I often mulled. It seemed to me
that the death of billions of people in that nuclear firestorm was the end of the world.
Every time I brought it up he would deflect my questions and hand me another task
within the lab. Had the President not died there’s no telling how long I would have
wondered about it. But he did and Viktor brought it up again and it became apparent to
me that though events do have reasons of their own those reasons aren’t always right.
Vault 27 April 28th, 2142
“How can a nuclear bomb save the world?”
My education in the Vault had taught me the peaceful applications of nuclear
technology: engineering transportation super-highways through granite mountain ranges
or the production of cheap and plentiful electrical power. That didn’t seem to be what
Viktor was talking about. Aside from ending the Second World War before the Japanese
could surrender to the Commies, I hadn’t heard of another beneficially aggressive use of
the Bomb.
My teacher fiddled with papers on his desktop and began arranging them into
separate piles.
“Precarious as it was, Felix, bombs protected the world for many years through
the use of Mutually Assured Destruction. It was only after the world’s oil wells began to
dry up that nations became belligerent enough to abandon MAD. That was ages ago.
Please don’t waste our time with generalizations, not now. This bomb saved the world by
destroying a project that could have catastrophically affected the only true hope for the
planet.”
At this point in our conversation, I felt a sudden urge to take a shower. I couldn’t
help feeling that shovels were heaving stinking piles of excrement into the large office.
My disbelief must have shone because Viktor leapt from behind his bench holding two
sheets of printer paper and commanded me to read them for myself. From copies he
loaded on to my PiPBoy, this is what they said:
Document 1
*** EMERGENCY ACTION MESSAGE ***
message to follow
crypto key: alpha-alpha-echo-charlie-tango-charlie-delta-2
sync comms… 3… 2… 1… mark
authentication key: 4T6W1HP9
Date: 0500Z April 28th, 2142
To: All Enclave Commanders and Executive Cabinet members ALLCOM
From: President Peligro Barber, Commander in Chief CINC
Body:
My fellow Americans,
Two days ago unknown wasteland forces attacked and completely destroyed
Enclave research outpost Poseidon Rig 3. I have learned that the President and Vice-
President Bird were both on the platform during the attack. Subsequent searches of the
California area of operations have been unable to locate any survivors.
By the powers given to me by the United States Constitution, and as witnessed by
Secretaries Hamilton and Lazardo, I have assumed the Presidency. The Under Congress
is aware of the developing situation in the West and will hold an official swearing-in
ceremony after we have stabilized the country.
All Enclave installations are here-by ordered to full alert preparedness and
Distributed Facilities are ordered to consolidate to their pre-designated Redoubts by pre-
arranged contingency schemes. The use of nuclear weapons is authorized. We must pool
our resources and secure our assets in light of this new and unknown threat.
I have tasked the Sub-Pentagon with investigating the attack. It is of the utmost
importance to the nation that we discover the identity of all involved in this heinous act of
war.
Justice will prevail. Long live the Presidency and the United States of America.
President Peligro Barber
CINC April 28th, 2142
Postscript: Individual command orders to follow.
*** EMERGENCY ACTION MESSAGE ***
Document 2
*** FLASH URGENT ***
message to follow
crypto key: delta-whiskey-november-charlie-tango-alpha-alpha-6
sync comms… 3… 2… 1… mark
authentication key: J5W9F927
Date: 0501Z April 28th, 2142
To: Colonel William Trudeau V27COM
From: General Terrence Hillenkoeter, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff JSC
Colonel Trudeau,
You are to secure and vacate Vault 27 and transport all essential Enclave assets to
Redoubt WPAFB by no later than 0500Z May 5th, 2142. Execute Vault-specific
contingency plan Daisy Parade as opportunity presents itself.
The Joint Chiefs are aware of the special nature of your command and have
dispatched a full Special Operations company (USSOCOM designation COBRA) to
assist you on site. Expect their arrival at 0230Z April 29th, 2142.
Get it done, Colonel.
General Terrence Hillenkoeter
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff
JCS April 28th, 2142
*** FLASH URGENT ***
The notes suggested that the President was dead and that the Vault had been
ordered cleared. I didn’t register that Viktor had just handed me decrypted Enclave traffic
and that I was violating federal law by reading it. At the time, I took comfort in the fact
that the Executive and Legislative branches of the government had overcome the attack
and continued to command. I still didn’t understand why Viktor believed we were in
mortal danger. I shrugged my shoulders and told him as much. He resumed his leather
throne and threw me a pitiful frown.
“I had no idea of how thoroughly you have been kept in the dark about your
country. I did all I could to counter the fantasies they fed you in that cursed media
library,” Viktor’s face turned to stone as he pontificated. “The United States doesn’t exist
anymore, Felix. The people are scattered and the lands are barely habitable. What’s left
of the government concerns itself primarily with maintaining its own survival – its own
power. You read the letter from Barber. ‘We must pool our resources and secure our
assets in light of this new and unknown threat’!”
“The country has to protect itself! What would you have us do?” A sudden rage
boiled over me and I jumped up from my seat. How could Viktor talk about the President
like that? These were hard times. The President knew what was best for the country.
“We’re the only hope for freedom in the wastes, doc. How should we respond when
someone threatens our liberty?”
“And while the brave Enclave soldiers follow their orders and move to their
military havens, what happens to the people that live under their protection – like you and
your friends here? Do you think that the Enclave can move all those civilians to new and
safe homes? I know you're not a fool, Felix. Stop viewing the world as one.”
I sat back in my small seat, my limbs quivering. I wanted to believe that they had
the ability to take care of us. How long had I lived in the Vault, fifteen years? All that
time the Enclave guns kept my underground sanctuary secure. I ate well and went to
school. I did my job and was paid for my work. Still, the Reclaimed States boasted
colossal post-War populations. Were there too many people for the military to protect
effectively?
Had Viktor not handed me another facsimile I probably would have continued to
argue with him about the Enclave. The note, of which I never received a copy, was titled
“Order of Operations: Daisy Parade.” It recorded in meticulous and sometimes horrible
detail the imminent liquidation of Vault 27. Of particular importance to me were the
sections that spoke of the Vault’s civilian population. A limited number of key scientists
were to accompany the Enclave troops to WPAFB, which Viktor told me was Wright-
Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio. Viktor was to join the Vault officers in transferring
‘sensitive’ materials to WPAFB via vertibird. The rest of the people, including me, were
to join Special Operations forces in a foot-bound exodus from the fallout shelter. When
we were far enough away, so as not to jeopardize the Vault’s secret location, the Enclave
commandos were ordered to eliminate us all and make it appear like we had been waylaid
by bandits.
“It’s not the country you think it is, Felix.” Viktor placed his hand on my shoulder
and I saw that he struggled to hold back his own tears. “It was great once, you can be sure
of that. But now it’s twisted and it needs a hand in making itself right.”
End
Thanks in advance for your input!
--antimike
P.S. I'm not sure how to format this in the forums to have tab breaks between paragraphs, so I had to use line break formatting.
I always thoght that Enclave was only that oil rig but it makes more sense being an organisation.