"No longer will you have the sun for light by day,
Nor for brightness will the moon give you light;
But you will have the Lord for an everlasting light,
And your God for your glory."
~ Isaiah 60:19



Omaha National Guard Bunker
The (former) State of Nebraska
The (former) United States
2080


Colonel Isaiah Maclaren was apprehensive as he entered the bunker's communications relay room. His apprehension stemmed from two factors: One was the communications relay room was close to the surface, and rumor around the base had it that those who worked in Communications were becoming a little...off...so close to the surface radiation. Perhaps some seepage from outside? The second factor was that he was summoned due to message traffic addressed to him.

Who in God's name was left alive up there to give him any mail?

His hand snaked up and his legs suddenly locked up and snapped together as his vision registered no less peerage then General Beuller already within the room. Beuller nodded to the Colonel, but otherwise said nothing, his hooded eyes deep in thought.

"Sir!" Isaiah said as he assumed parade rest. "You...uh...summoned me sir?"

"Yes, Colonel, I did." The general said, sounding distant, unfocused. "Tell me about yourself Colonel."

"Sir?"

The general took a vacant seat in front of one of the many communication relay terminals and waved a hand absently in front of him. "You have a wife and kid, don't you son?"

"Had, sir." Isaiah said quietly. "But yessir, my wife Lisa and my little boy, Alex. They were living up near Norfolk when the Chinese dropped the bombs on us."

"Any place you can think they might have run to?" The general asked suddenly. "A family friend with a shelter, perhaps?"

Isaiah sighed and shook his head. "Before I got recalled to duty, my family was selected for Vault-Tec's Vault 55 sir. But that was up in Sioux City across the state line, a two hour drive. What with the amount of "drills" we'd been having, I don't think it's likely Lisa opted to take the Highwayman out for that long a drive when it was probably a false alarm anyway."

"Maybe. Maybe not." The General replied quietly and Isaiah eyed him sharply. "As a matter of fact, that's the reason I had you called here. The Com Boys have been running triple shifts, trying to get in touch with damn near anyone. Other National Guard, Military, Police, Government, Encl-"

The general's mouth closed with an audible snap and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Regardless, it's been kinda pointless. Outside a few isolated personal distress beacons - miserable bastards are too far out for us to help WITHOUT the risk of contamination from the fallout out there - we haven't heard a peep out of anyone. That is, till we got a scattered transmission, almost out of our own broadcast range. We had to reprogram a few relay dishes that still had power, but this is what we picked up..."

The general punched a key on the terminal next to him and a speaker flared to life. Isaiah's eyes blazed with unshed tears as he recognized the sound of the voice.

"...yone listening, I am broadcasting over a narrow beam. I can't risk a wide range broadcast for fear of detection. My name is Lisa Maclaren, and my husband is - was - in the National Guard before the Bombs dropped. I'm transmitting from a secure location inside Vault-Tec Vault number 55. I...We need help. Oh God! We need help!"

Isaiah flinched and reached for the speaker without thinking as the disembodied voice of his wife broke into a sobbing fit.

"It's terrible! These Vaults...they were supposed to protect us! Suppose to give us shelter! What they're doing to the children, and us, it's more then cruel! This is how..." Lisa took a deep breath, ruthlessly dragging herself back under control. "To anyone with the means that to hear me, I'm begging you. Find us. Help us."

The general brought his finger down on the terminal, killing the transmission. If Isaiah made a slight whimpering noise as his wife's voice faded from the speakers, the general ignored it.

"What happened sir?" Isaiah asked in a iron hammered voice.

"We don't know, Colonel." The general sighed. "And she didn't tell us. I'm not privy to the inner workings of Vault-Tec's Vaults, but it seems to me that something screwed up by the numbers, or we wouldn't be getting a distress signal. And, well, frankly there's another reason."

"Sir?"

The general sighed and sank lower into the chair. "As you yourself said, Colonel. There were a lot of false alarms before we went to Hell in a Hand basket. Most people probably didn't even report to their Vaults, much less make adequate preparations of other potential shelters. Like this one."

Isaiah's eyes widened in horror and the general smiled without mirth.

"We're operating on a razor wire here, Colonel. We've managed to scrap by alright for ourselves, but surely you've noticed the cooks in the galley have broken into the MRE rations. At least we have Water Recyclers, so we're not gonna die of thirst. But it's bad right now Colonel. Real bad. I can do what I can using military discipline, but you and I both know that's a smokescreen now. There is no military left to discipline, and if I come down as a Brass Hardcase, there's not going to be a court martial for the private who decided to pop me. But if I don't start rationing, we'll be eating each other by the end of the year."

The general stood up with a sigh, and began pacing.

"What's worse, background radiation levels are still almost unacceptably high, and we never got our hands on any Power Armor. Oh we can survive on the surface, don't get me wrong, but without any safe haven to decontaminate ourselves, we're looking at rampant cancer and radiation sickness. Not the way I'd like to go, and we lack any decontamination facilities here in the bunker, so I haven't been able to send anyone out to scavenge supplies. Essentially Colonel, anyone I do send outside, has to stay there. But that was before I knew there was a Vault in this area. Vaults have decontamination facilities, and it's likely it has room to spare."

"And I have a vested interest to find this vault." Isaiah said, eyes narrowing. "There's no guarantee I could survive out there, sir. We don't have any idea what's up there."

"But is that going to stop you, Colonel?" The general asked.

"Hell no!" Isaiah replied, forgoing military courtesy. "My wife and kid are in trouble! I'm going after them!"

"And when you do," The general replied. "When you find Vault 55, and then save your wife and child, you're going to claim Vault 55 for our own use."

"Claim it?" Isaiah asked with narrowed eyes.

The general smiled frostily. "Their obviously in trouble Colonel, and so are we. Consider it less a take over and more...a offer of an alliance."


To Be Continued...