Stuff happens when you have an old fart army sergeant for a dad and a computer geek for a mom. Dad was Mr. "Physical Training before breakfast, run 3 miles before sunrise." Mom was cool, but couldn't make much beyond squirrel stew in the crock pot. Dad taught me how to sneak around the vault and make the advlts look straight at me and not see me. I think he was more than a motor pool gear head before the door closed, but he won't talk about it. Mom was a little weird too. She knew all the standard access codes to the comps, but if the Overseer was blithering on about food shortages, we somehow always had (really bad) food on the table.

I had pretty much a normal childhood up until I got that damn Pipboy. Played baseball with the other kids, went to school and did video holos when Dad wasn't making me do PT and take apart another gun with a blindfold over my eyes, wearing mittens. The thing went on my arm and everything changed. Sure, I had the "normal" b-day party with my friends and the lame friends of my 'rents. The Overseer slapped the thing on my arm and mad a stupid joke about my first work assignment tomorrow. Also had sweetrolls, cake, lame ass poetry, and a Red Rider BB gun. Dad and his bud took me to some out of the way part of the vault to practice with the gun right after the party. A radroach dropped by for a very limited engagement. I remember the radroach pie as one of the sweetest meals my mom never screwed up.

The insanity started that night. Mom and Dad woke me out of a happy slumber (I was dreaming about headshots to roaches IIRC) and took me down to the electronics shop. I remember it was about 3 and Mom whispering to Dad something about "The monitoring programs are down to do a routine upgrade. We've got about an hour."

Anyway, Mom took a USB cable out of her cargo pants, plugged it into her Pipboy and mine. Next thing I know, it drops off my arm! I thought the things were genetically welded to you once attached! Then the 250 pound physical training machine that was my father, springs into action. As if a 250 pound hunk of muscle can spring into anything. Dad pulls a micro tool set out of who knows where in his pants and like some savant mechanic opens the thing up. He pulls a chip and puts in a new one. Meanwhile Mom is pounding away on the buttons of her Pipboy, cursing like the radroach steak is gonna be overdone again. I learned some new words that night. Anyway, it turns out that all the standard Pipboys in the vault were set up with GPS and voice monitoring so that the Overseer could locate and listen to just about anybody he wanted to. Turns out good old Mom and Dad figured out a way to let me know if the Overseer was watching and alert me. The new chip was pretty much the same as the old, except I get a minor error message, "Data Integrity Questionable" if the bastard is tracking me or listening. Turns out I can also turn off both. Not supposed to do that except in an "Extreme Emergency." Whatever that is.

They explained the whole monitoring thingy to me and told me to watch what I say when I'm not alone. Confused, hell yes! They told me to keep my mouth shut and they would fill me in when I would understand. By this time, I was starting to wake up, but Dad told me the old line about "Loose lips sink ships." We hustled back to our rooms with about 30 seconds to spare on the "routine upgrade." Did I mention that Mom pretty much was the supervisor of the geek squad?

I wake up the next day, pretty sure that there was some funny filling in the sweet rolls at the party. Then I look at my Pipboy and see a message, "Data Integrity Questionable" . That kind of took the fun out ot the glorious new day in the vault. Mom saw the alert, winked at me and smiled. Me, I winked back and asked, "Did the Overseer provide another nice healthy breakfast, Mommy?"

****

My parents finally got around to telling me the truth about the vault and stuff over the years. I learned to act really good whenever that error message came up. Lost a lot of friends for refusing to do stupid kid stuff when I knew the [censored] old [censored] was watching or listening.

Took me awhile to understand the way things work. Some of it I actually picked up in school, most of it was Mom and Dad filling in what school didn't say.

After the zombie trip to the nether regions, things got a little intense. All that training by Mom and covert observation of her during "Take your little gene pool to work" Day actually paid off.

A couple of years after that day that will live in infamy, I found myself alone in the classroom. Old Nesbyotch, the teacher, had dismissed the class and Elvis had left the building. Me, I'm trying to figure out where I'd left my baseball glove when I realize, old Nessie is gone, her terminal is still on and I don't have to be home for an hour.

Nesbyotch was as pure as the white snow (not quite sure what that is, frozen liquid from the sky sounds just silly, but it was in lots of the old holos). Stuff happens. I had access an Admin level 3 comp. For our non-vault brethren, there were about 10 levels of computer access in the vault. Joe-Bob, the Overseer was obviously the only one with the official level one access. His minions, the Chief of Security, the Chief Engineer, Doctor Shrinko (the lead and one of three doctors) and the Lead Programmer had level 2 access. Their various underlings had level 3 access. And so on down the food chain. Mom was level 4 and Dad was level 7, "on the books". Nobody ever said Joe-Bob was a genius.

Anyway, I'm alone in the classroom with the teach's comp on. Find the glove and go? Nah. I close the door and open the student files. Top of the list? Butch. ADD, on a rapidly dwindling supply of meds and slated for Experiment 4133 if he doesn't shape up. Loser with the capital L. Duh? advlts take so long to figure this crap out. Next up in the student files is Wally. Parents June and Ward Cleaver. I hack a few files and find out that June is so Mrs. Perfect because she is Joe-Bob's old flame! Turns out the only way she got in here was to do some dirty deed darn cheep?. Ward was some kind of librarian or lawyer before the bombs fell fifteen years ago. Boring. I find out whose doing what to whom and resist the urge to vomit.

Just for giggles, I USB my Pipboy into Mrs. Nesbyotch's comp. Then I trigger that "Extreme Emergency" routine. Holy [censored]! Turns out the chip can do more than mask bugging and tracking, it can also hack like the king of hearts. The screen is showing, "Welcome, Joe-Bob, what's your pleasure? Level 1 Access approved." Holy [censored]! After all my p****** around on the student files, I notice I've only got a few minutes left. I download the passwords to my Pipboy and head for the recreation enclosure.

****
Nobody has any idea where my lovely vault is do they? Reading back over my ego trip reminds me that I need to fill in a few things. Some commie pinko sympathizer once said something like, "There's Philly and Pittsburgh and Alabama in between." Well, our vault was in Pennsyltucky. Harrisburg was the capital before the bombs came down. Dad was in the National Guard and Mom worked for West Tec. Dad was part of the first strike team to take down the field in Anchorage and somehow arranged to get assigned back to the homeland without doing any riot duty after the liberation. Mom was always a computer geek, got her degree from Penn State, masters at Caltech, and PhD from MIT and then still returned back to central Pennsyltucky. I don't wanna know the details on how they hooked up. My stomach could only take so much of their files.

There was only one vault in the area. Built under some small mountains to the north. Under the guise of a casino expansion, the Army Corps of Engineers, working in civies, built Vault X-ray 1. It was near Fort Indiantown Gap, a small National Guard base that housed a Stryker battalion. AFAIK, it was the only vault that didn't have some kind of experiment planned into the composition. The Strykers were set to go help the Euros when peak oil became more than just a theory. Then a lightening bolt came down from the heavens and the Prez stopped the deployment. Dad got out of the military and went to work for Vault Tec as security. Mom was in computer security and operations. Her pre-war security clearance was way above Joe-Bob's. Not that dip-s*** ever figured that out.

The area was a MMSA, so said the Census Bureau, before the war. When whoever launched, we only got a few dropped in the area. The War College at Carlisle got hit with what were probably mini-nukes. Still it killed most of the assigned personnel. Harrisburg took a real nuke. Indiantown Gap was outside the blast radius and was probably hit with a neutron weapon as the rads were really small in the years following the strike.

****
So, you the reader, are bored with all the BS background stuff? You want to know about the Enclave and the pillaging? Maybe I'll live long enough to get my story onto the Pipboy. Maybe the molerats ate my effin behind. Creative souls can't exist in a vacuum. Need some feedback. Keep going or shut up?

keep goin, i like ur twist on what could have happened in the vault

So, here I am at 14, Mom's uber-geek and Dad's Mr. Fix-it with a splash of snatch n shoot. I've used ye old super chip to hack into basically every file in this vault. I have no friggin' friends cause I know when Joe-Bob is channeling Mr. Orwell. So what's a loner to do?

I turned to the history of architecture. This dude, F. L. Wright built this amazing house into the side of a hill, over a creek a few miles west. Got me interested in blueprints and the attached. During one of my "accidental" hacks, I downloaded the complete specs for the vault. Yeah, there was that 13 ton monster that rolled up to seal the svcker, but there were like 13 other ways in or OUT! Dad always said, "A plan ain't a plan unless you got a GOTH." GOTH stands for Go to he double toothpicks for all my young readers. When the fecal matter hits the fan for the older ones.

So I studied the blueprints and made plans. Lots of plans. Then I ruled them out as the dreams of a d***-a** kid.

14 was a bad year for yours truly. Butch, monster son of what's her face the drunk, decided it was 'kewl' to pick on the geeky kid that had no friends. Bad move Bonzo. I was basically reading anything the Neanderthal wrote on his comp before he wrote it thanks to ole super chip. Butch had an overabundance of hormones and an alpha male personality. He was barely literate too. I swear he sung the ABC song every day so he wouldn't forget!

One day I'm going to baseball practice, thinking about how to get out of this place without implicating my 'rents. Okay, I loved them for all their warts. Nuff said.

Good old Butch decides he's gonna pick on the loner with three of his friends. It's after school, I'm about to enter the rec room when the loons appear. Butch starts talkin' the talk and laughin' it up with his crew. I look at the Pipboy and see Mr. 1984 isn't watching. Butch and his two brain cells, conveniently located between his legs fail to recognize that, in addition to a glove and a ball, I've got a weighted stick. Did I mention I was leading the league in RBIs, HRs and batting average? I blame the hormones. He shoved me and I snapped. Dad had given me a few unofficial lessons when he wasn't teaching me how to fix a jammed assault rifle. My body kind of twisted when he shoved me. My nose got personal with the wall. There was blood everywhere. Apparently Butch never heard of combat rush. I was p*****! Well, the bat came off the shoulder. Swung it like I was digging for a low outside pitch and hit [censored] just below the left knee. The bat bounced off and kicked back, but it set me up for a follow through on Crony 1. Somehow, the bat bounced into his crotch, which kind of absorbed all the momentum. Crony 2 started a right hook but got the butt end of the bat to the face. Can you say poetic justice? My nose is broken and so is yours. Crony 3 was even dumber than Butch and just stood there with a slack jaw. Hooked his right ankle out, he fell on his back and I gave him a smack in the 'nads. Went to the water fountain, then practice. Hit 5 over the fence during batting practice before security showed up.

Turns out that while I was beating the crap out of the gang, Joe-Bob checked in and the whole incident was captured on video. I never noticed the alert on the Pipboy. Was a good thing in the long run as Joe-Bob was getting suspicious of my lack of trouble over the years. 2 goons show up in the security armor with police batons and 10mms. I could have taken them, but didn't as rationality had returned. I get frog-marched down to security, the 'rents get called and then Joe-Bob shows up to pontificate about my "excessive response to minor adolescent provocations."

I got 5 days suspension from school. Gee, like that was punishment. Stay home, play holos, and hack. Just stay stupid Joe-Bob. BTW, Butch had arthroscopic surgery on the knee. Crony 1 had internal bleeding and was hospitalized for a month. Crony 2's nose was broken worse that mine and he eventually had rhinoplasty so he could breathe. Crony 3 was in the fetal position for about a week .

Dealing with Butch was kind of fun after that. Just mime a home run and he changed directions. Downside was that even the neutrals were scared of me. Chickens*** losers.

****

14 was also the year that I went outside for the first time. Got a 10mm and a few books. And a puppy!

So here we are 14 years after the bombs fell. I'm an outcast, pretty good with machines and reduced to beating people up when they attack me. I can sneak around pretty good too. The upside is I have a dog and a gun.

After all my hacking, I haven't found a hidden agenda for Vault X-ray 1. I can get out whenever I want to, but that wouldn't be smart too often.

Turns out Joe-Bob wasn't totally stupid. A few years after the bombs fell, he sent an expedition to Indiantown Gap and managed to grab a few irradiated Predator drones. We had really good info on what had happened to central Pennsyltucky and the Capital Wasteland. Super Mutant Freaks!

****
Any constructive criticism?

Joe-Bob scavenged three drones. The first, he sent south to the remains of Washington. What's a bureaucrat to do when he ceases receiving orders? Seek instructions of course! Where better to seek instruction than bureaucrat heaven, Washington.

Joe-Bob puts about 7 people into enviro suits, opens the big door, and sends them up to launch the drone. They gitter done and return home. The drone flyies south for about an hour and discovers that, "Yes Virginia, DC has been nuked by lots of bombs." The drone circled the city once and then got hit by a shoulder launched rocket. The last 15 or so seconds so show what appears to be a Chinese guy on top of some Italian food factory with a launcher. There's also this really big green guy with a mini-gun. The contrail approaches the camera and then static. Joe-Bob is, of course, surprised.

The second drone is sent NE to New York. Now, pretty much anyone who doesn't live there or on Long Island hated the Yankees. Well it got hit as hard if not harder than bureaucrat central. The Chinese got a little creative too. Turns out they not only used air-burst nukes, they waited a few hours after and put a delayed explosive into the water. That caused a tidal surge that pretty much wiped the surface clean. There's even less left in New York than Washington.

TV and holos were pretty effed up before the war. Most of us here in Pennsyltucky either followed the Steelers or the Eagles. The NFL, in its infinite corporate wisdom, decided that couldn't be allowed and that we should be good little Ravens fans. Joe-Bob, devastated by the loss of the Ravens, who he had supported at the direction of the powers that be, sent the final drone west. The images were pretty disturbing. Armed a-holes forcing survivors into the remains of Heinz Field for an auction. This is why I have no respect for the plural of people. There's this nuclear war. Most of the humans are killed. Do the survivors try to help each other? Nah. The strong round up the weak, put them inside the bowl of the football stadium and sell them as slaves. Got me mad. But of course, I wasn't supposed to know cause Joe-Bob kept a lid on everything.

****
Did I mention that I snuck out of the vault? That I had this urge to turn off the monitor even in non-extreme situations?

Here's what happened. All the advlts were at Joe-Bob's State of the Vault speech, He was long winded and would keep going for hours. Told the 'rents I was sleeping over at a friend's. Don't' know what they were thinking, since I didn't have any friends. Went down to the shooting range for the BB gun. No radroaches. Take the "secret key" that Jonas and Dad had given me and cleaned the hunting rifle in the locker. Then, as I put the rifle back, I notice that the rear is slightly off kilter. I give it little nudge (okay, I backed up and ran into it full speed with my right shoulder). The back flies off and I find a freakin' tunnel! Consult the plans and learn that this is "Planned Expansion Number 1."

I look at the Pipboy and see I'm off the radar as all the grown-ups are at the speech. I follow the tunnel and find some rough rooms. Looks like our vault was supposed to have been bigger. Much bigger. There's even a bathroom with shower, bidet, and flushie. Not to mention a ratty mattress and an Ultra-Safe 1000. Before the war, the Ultra was considered to the be the cr?me de la cr?me of security. A couple of cubic meters of ultra safe storage. The plumbing actually worked!

In a corner, I find one of those locked doors. Not the 13 ton main entrance types, but a normal turn the wheel and watch all the interlock fall. Since I've cleared my schedule with my parents, I set the Pipboy to wake me up in an hour and take a nap.

****
Male or female character? Need to make a decision. Will determine how I meet Dogmeat. Is Dogmeat a boy or a girl dog?

what ever you like really, its your story. I like this.

This part made me lol.
I think the whole thing is pretty good. Look forward reading more.

Wow, you're a talented writer tbh! It took some time to get used to your style but it's very pleasant and original. The storyline is also very original, I love how you incorporate the normal Fallout 3 things into this (actually completely) different setting!

Looking forward for more!

The alarm goes off. I grab the bat, realize that Butch and Co. aren't around and calm down. Consult Mr. Pipboy and see that Joe-Bob is still ranting. Something about the American dream, Corvegas and obedience to Joe-Bob.

Picked up the rifle, and opened up the 'secret' door. Most of the tunnel was pretty rough; the floor was smooth; the walls and ceiling were rough. No radioactive water dripping from the ceiling. No bat guano. Lots of dust. Did I mention I was 14 and stupid? Here I am feeling like a bad-a**, carrying a crappy .32 bolt action rifle and preparing to leave the womb. Can you say dumb-a**?

Cutting to the chase, I went outside. Ye olde Pipboy was pretty quiet. Minimal rads. Keep in mind this is not the main entrance. Good thing I had no problems with claustrophobia. Construction standards slipped before the war. No concrete walls. No supports. Lots of dust. A few almost total collapses. Tied a bandana over my face, put on some shades Dad forgot about. Put my head and shoulders on the bottom of a steel plate and heaved.

Where's my second birth? If there was poetic justice, I'd be in a cell in the middle of the brig of Fort Indiantown Gap. Wrongo. I came up in the middle of a vault (pun intended). This one wasn't designed to resist Chinese Commie nukes but rather to prevent theft. I'm in a 40' by 40' room. There's no light but Mr. Pipboy. Around 3 walls are floor to ceiling lockers with keyholes. A few are open. I take a close look. There's a whole boatload of money in them. Take a look at those old pre-war holos. Ever see "Reefer Madness?" Think of blocks of cash wrapped in plastic wrap. The fourth wall has an open steel door. Looks like the main entrance to X-ray 1, but it is open.

I lock n load the rifle. I'm a bad-a**. Got a b-ball bat and a rifle. Gonna kick some a**. God, spare the idiot. I walk out the door and up a ramp that doubles back and goes up about 5 stories. Those casino owners took their security seriously before the war. I emerge into this room with about 30 monitors. And holy effin sheet. One of them is actually powered up. Did I mention I was on the geek squad? Small problemo, there's a skeleton sitting in the chair in front of the monitor. Nasty bones in a casino security suit. Kick it out of the way. Whatever fire and brimstone Joe-Bob preached, it never took with me. Sit my fat butt down and start typing. Holy computers Batman (one of my favorite holos). Some of the surveillance camera still freakin' work. So I start surfing.

The kitchen is dead. Literally. The roof fell on it. The money pit is also dead. 5 bodies in a cell, lots of money. Lots of poker chips. Next camera is on the floor. Lots of machines. Recognize them as slots from pre-war holos. Life's not enough of a gamble? Put money into a random number generator? Crap, I was born 40 years too late. Those people were stupid. I coulda been rich!

Shift to another camera on the floor. There's a [censored] with 3 puppies under a few machines. Some moron with a double barrel 12 gauge is waving a piece of meat in front of them. The [censored] is really skinny. Like almost starved skinny. Moron waves the meat, she's so freakin' starving that she emerges from under the machine to sniff it and the EFFIN BASTARD UNLOADES A BARREL INTO HER FACE! Shook me up pretty bad after my isolated existence to date. Moron's blast killed all but one of the pups too. Then Moron, starts feeding on the dead dog. Sticks his face into her abdomen and starts slurping and chewing. Eeew!.

I pull up the floor plan. I'm one level down from Mr. Cannibal Moron. I'm pissed. I cried when Old Yeller died. The rage thingy hits me again. I literally see red. It was like going from anolog to HD. Yeah, I know what that's like. I've seen the old holos. My vision gets real effin' clear. My hearing gets real acute. I get up from the consol and start going up the tunnel. Got a real clear diagram of the floor plan in my head. Thanks Dad for all those silly lessons in sneak and shoot.

I'm wearing the dumb-a** vault dark blue jump suit. Baseball bat over the shoulder. Rifle locked, cocked and loaded in my hands. Turns out I'm really good at this sneaking sh**. I step over 5 skeletons on the ramp. Now I'm on the floor about 3 rows from Mr. Moron Puppy Killer. I silently glide around more bodies. Putrefying flesh? Yeah, the whole place smelled. Thankfully there was no humidity. All the bodies were dust or turning to it.

There's all these slot machines (30 or 40) in a row. I get to the end and he's there with his face buried in the dead dog. There's one pup still alive. Cowering under a slot machine. Mr. Moron is oblivious to anything but feeding on the mom.

The rage thingy is full on. I'm at the end of the row. The rifle is loaded. I'm on auto-pilot. I lay on my stomach and snuggle the stock into my shoulder. The barrels goes on target. I exhale a bit. The retort comes as a surprise as it should if I've done it right. HIS MOTHER EFFIN HEAD ROLLS OFF BACKWARDS ABOUT 20'.

I throw up. I haven't just knocked someone's nads into next week, I've just ended a life. The smells of the blood, urine and feces don't help. Laying on my stomach, svcking air, coming down off a major adrenaline rush when this fur ball runs up and licks my ear.

****

Wet sandpaper on my ear? I must be having one of those hormonal teenager dreams. Nah, that can't be it; my face is in a pile of my own puke. I lift the face. Dogmeat is licking my ear and whining. Can't blame he/she/it (need to consult the vet records when I get back to the vault). Look at the Pipboy and o crappola, Joe-Bob's rant is about over. Crap. Heave myself off the floor and stagger over to dead idiot on the floor. Mr. Puppy Killer appears to have been seriously deficient in the brain cell area. He's wearing leathers with nails poking out. Like an attacker is going to run up and self-impale. Idiot. Brainless is not actually worthless. He's got 2 frags and some .32 rounds that will happily fit in my handy dandy idiot killer rifle. I snatch the loot and scurry back to the womb.

****
To make a long story short, I make it back to my room with about 30 seconds to spare and jump in the shower. I left Dogmeat in my secret room with pork n beans. Big mistake. You clean it up if you think that's funny.