Overseer: Vault 18 (Fallout)

You couldn’t bring yourself to sit in the chair right away.

It was just overwhelming you to finally be here. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that your entire life has led up to this. Ever since the last overseer was chosen, back when you were nine years old, it became your overriding goal to replace him.

Life in vault 18 came at a fast pace. There were two categories of kids growing up in the vault: the ambitious, and everyone else. You were in the former category. You stayed on top of your schoolwork, did all the extra assignments and volunteer work that everyone knew was mandatory to be competitive in this position, and finally, when you completed the GOAT, the teacher read out the result you’d staked all your efforts on.

“...most qualified for the position of Overseer. And let me be the first to say Congratulations, sir!”

That happened almost a year ago. Overseer Burdack hadn’t exactly stepped down the moment the results had come in. In Vault 18, the rule was clear: a term of office, whether for waste management supervisor or Overseer, was ten years. After that, the old had to make way for new blood, appointed from the most qualified of recent graduates as assessed primarily by the results of the GOAT.

You were only 18 years old, but you’d spent most of them preparing for this. And now, as you’re about to assume the job you’ve worked so hard for, you can barely calm down enough to focus on the present.

You’re ready, you told yourself. The old Overseer just shook your hand as he left the office. It was your time.

You walked around the circular desk, pulled the chair out, and took a seat, letting it swivel you back into position in front of the primary command monitor of Vault 18. Reaching forward, your fingers danced over the keys, logging in for the first time.

A video in the classic Vault Boy style started up. It showed Vault boy, sitting behind a cartoon version of the overseer’s desk, looking forward with a smile.

“Greetings new Overseer, and welcome!” came the deep, resonant voice of The Narrator over the terminal’s speakers. You were very familiar with that voice, from dozens of educational videos you’d watched throughout your childhood.

“If you’re here now, it means you’ve been selected to lead your vault into the future for the next decade! Do you feel a stirring in your chest as you think of the course on which you’re about to embark? That feeling is pride, that all your hard work has finally paid off. You’re a very bright boy, but now is no time for you to rest on your laurels!”

The scene shifted to one of Vault Boy holding up his classic thumbs up in front of a crowd of his fellow (and mostly identical) vault dwellers.

“Your Vault, your home, is depending on you to thrive, and on your vision to lead them into the future. A future, as you know, that will be led by the young.”

A clock faded in, ticking backward, and then faded out leaving you looking at a pair of old men with wispy white hair. One wore a pressed suit and the other in a military uniform, and they both stood over a red button on a pedestal between them.

“The world before total atomic annihilation was run by old men, and we all know how that turned out.”

As you watched, the two elders representing the leaders of the old world pressed their fingers down onto the button simultaneously. Through a window behind them you saw a missile flying off into the sky, and then another one flew back over the horizon. The two had just enough time to turn and look shocked at the consequences of their action before the missile hit them and the scene erupted into a mushroom cloud.

When the smoke cleared, all that was left was a metal vault door set into the side of a cliff. The door rolled open, revealing an array of vault dwellers with an assortment of outfits and tools.

“Each of us has an important role to play. For some people, that involves healing the sick. For others, it means growing food, or maintaining the vital machines that make vault life possible.”

Another transition brought Vault Boy back behind the overseer’s desk, with all the different dwellers arrayed behind him.

“But you have a special calling, perhaps the highest calling of all: to coordinate all the others into a cohesive whole. Because after all the rebuilding of our great nation may fall… to you.”

The video cut out, and the overseer’s interface flickered into place.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only Date: December 29th, 2249 Population: 246 Retirements Pending: 0 Departments: 1: Maintenance; 2: Water Purification, 3: Waste Management; 4: Power systems 5: Security 6: Hydroponics 7: Distribution 8: Morale & Education 9: Health & Life Support 10: Manufacturing;

You checked each of the departments and saw that basically all of your department heads have sent you congratulatory messages. Everyone except the head of maintenance. Huh.

You recognized about half of them from school; they weren't all your age, but class sizes in a vault are rather small.

Tabbing through the department sections, you looked over some of the most recent reports from each department. The ones from Water Purification were rather sparse, while the heads of Security, Hydroponics, and Waste Management have all requested a private meeting with you.

After taking in the situation, you leaned back and started to plan out your day.

What actions do you want to take today? (Choose 4)

[ ] Call a meeting of all department heads. (Takes 2 actions).
[ ] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. (write in which)
[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which)
[ ] Consult with the previous overseer (Will mean swallowing your pride a bit)
[ ] Walk around, try to get the sense of the vault community.
[ ] Write in a suggestion.

Also, Choose two Perks

[ ] Action Boy: One additional action per time segment.
[ ] Empathy: Get extra insight into what other characters are really feeling and intending.
[ ] Scrounger: Extra resources randomly show up every turn.
[ ] Presence: Significant bonus to getting NPCs you focus on to do what you say.
[ ] Smooth Talker: Once per day, turn a basic dialogue failure into a basic success.
[ ] Cautious Nature: Always get forewarning or advantage of some precaution when dealing with random encounters.

(A note on voting: Everyone gets as many votes as the number of things you get to choose, I will tally up all votes at the end and whichever ones are most popular get in.)

 

Voting closed:

Spoiler: 9 Votes (Unanimous)

[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Security
[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Waste Management

Spoiler: 8 Votes

[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Hydroponics

Spoiler: 7 Votes

[x] Read through the backlog of reports from one department: Water Purification

Spoiler: 1 Vote

[x] Call a meeting of all department heads. (Takes 2 actions)
[x] Consult with the previous overseer (Will mean swallowing your pride a bit)

And Perks:

Spoiler: 7 Votes

[x] Smooth Talker: Once per day, turn a basic dialogue failure into a basic success.

Spoiler: 6 Votes

[x] Action Boy: One additional action per time segment.

Spoiler: 5 Votes

[x] Empathy: Get extra insight into what other characters are really feeling and intending.

Final Schedule is:

[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Security
[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Hydroponics
[x] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads: Waste Management
[x] Read through the backlog of reports from one department: Water Purification

Final Perks are:
[x] Action Boy: One additional action per time segment.
[x] Smooth Talker: Once per day, turn a basic dialogue failure into a basic success.

Edit: Rolls. I'm still working on this one, it may be a few more days.

Spoiler: Rolls

Social Rolls against Persuade at 65%

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 65

For: Hydroponics Meeting (65%)

Rolled on: August-25-2018, 12:01am

See dice roll details

65

Success!

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 5

For: Security Meeting (65%)

Rolled on: August-25-2018, 12:02am

See dice roll details

5

Success!

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 67

For: Waste Meeting (65%)

Rolled on: August-25-2018, 12:02am

See dice roll details

67

Failure Success! (Smooth Talker)
Research roll against Science at 40%

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 69

For: Water Research (40%)

Rolled on: August-25-2018, 12:03am

See dice roll details

69

Failure!

 

((sorry for the long delay, but finally here's the continuation. In the future I should probably post one event at a time to keep momentum going.

Note: I've made some slight edits to the department names in the first post.))

If some of your department heads had urgent business to discuss with you, you figured it’d be best not to keep them waiting. To that end, you sent out a quick reply to each of them, asking them to schedule a time to come by and chat.

While you waited for them to fill up your schedule, you started digging into the reports from the water purification department. Every other department had been filing multiple reports every day, while these guys had barely written one per week. You were sure something was up with that, but you figured it best to do some research on the matter before confronting Fred about it.

As you worked your way back through the reports, taking notes on the few statistics they bothered to keep track of, your terminal beeped softly to indicate that new messages have arrived.

‘Would 3:30 PM work? I think we should be done with the clog in Residential block 3F by then.’ -WM Chief Bauman

‘I’ll be by around 2:00 PM.’ - Security Chief Totra

‘I’ll head over now, be there in about five minutes.’ - Hydroponics chief Hendee

You’d just finished tabbing through them when you heard the distinctive hiss of the door to the Overseer’s office sliding up.

“Hey boss, how’s your first day so far?” David Hendee asked as he strode into the room, carrying an aluminum tray in both hands.

You knew Dave well enough; it was impossible to avoid knowing basically everyone in your age group in the vault. He’d been the ‘cool’ upperclassman, and while your rigorous schedule didn’t leave much time for partying, everyone knew that Dave was the source for vault-distilled booze and other recreational substances. It kinda surprised you when you found out he’d replaced the Hydroponics chief; apparently he’d had time for studying between all the parties he was involved with.

Walking over to your desk, he set the tray down and you got a look at what he’d brought you: it was a small, square baking tray of rich chocolate brownies.

“Thought you could use a little something to get you through your stressful first day, boss man. The ingredients are from the cream of the crop.” He waved a hand over the tray. “Go ahead, try one.”

This whole thing had put you off balance, but you couldn’t completely stifle the impulse to just reach for one of the neat brown squares. Treats like this were rare in the vault, usually reserved for special occasions like birthdays and retirement parties. It wasn’t until the crumbly morsel was under your nose, and the smell hit you, that you stopped.

That wasn’t the smell of chocolate, or at least, not just chocolate. The scent rattled around in your brain until it connected with a memory; one of the few times you had gone to a party with Dave. There’d been a plate of cookies up for grabs, and everyone had one. You’d had more than one, despite the odd smell. It was only after you’d started to feel the effects that Dave had explained what was in them.

You blinked, and set the brownie back in the tray. “Dave… are these Reefer brownies?” you asked.

A knowing grin stole its way onto his face. “Oh yeah, only the best for the overseer, too. Don’t you want to try one?”

You slid the tray off of your desk and carefully place it in a drawer. “Maybe later.” Looking back up at him, you blink. “Dave… how much Reefer are you growing in my vault?”

Seeing that he wasn’t getting quite the reaction he hoped for, Dave shrank back a bit. “It’s just a half-dozen or so plants, man. The vault produces more than enough food, so we have the space in the grow-rooms. People need a little help to relax sometimes.” He sank down into the chair opposite your desk, watching your face with an anxious expression.

You weren’t immediately sure how you felt about this. Vault regulations were pretty clear that this stuff should be considered contraband, but having tried it before yourself, despite being incapacitated with giggles and demolishing a box of sugar bombs, you hadn’t noticed anything really wrong with the experience.

Still… “I haven’t seen this available at the commissary. How are you distributing it, exactly?”

Dave shrugged. “I used to be involved in that part. That’s how I got in with the old Hydroponics chief; he took me under his wing and taught me how to pass the test. I pass the stuff to a few popular kids and a few people in Morale to hand out. Once they know what it’s like, people will trade favors and stuff for it. And as Overseer, you always get the cream of the harvest.”

New Resource: Reefer Your hydroponics department produces a small amount of the chem Reefer. A mild psychoactive that alters mood and relieves stress. New Resource: Abundant Food Your hydroponics department grows more than enough food to keep your vault fed, and you have a sizable stockpile of dry foodstuffs. You also have the facilities to manufacture some old world food. New Complication: Contraband Booze, Reefer, and who knows what else can be found in your vault. People might cause significant trouble to get ahold of these things.

After Dave wrapped up and returned to his post, you were left along with your thoughts, and the lingering smell of the brownies he had given you. The management of ‘contraband’ hadn’t really been a part of your training, other than the general understanding that it should be handled by Security.

While Dave was talking, it occured to you that not only were those plants of his under your purview, but so was every jury-rigged still in the vault. The Med-X supply, too; you knew that somehow people got ahold of the stuff when they weren’t technically supposed to, and now it was up to you whether to just let that keep happening or to institute some kind of crackdown.

Things in the vault seemed stable enough, but you resolved to look into this issue more carefully soon.

While you were still deep in thought about that, a voice came over the intercom to your office. “Security Chief Totra here to see you, Overseer.”

You recognized the voice as that of Officer Hyland, who you remembered greeting you on your first visit to the Overseer’s office a year ago, and again just a few hours ago when you took the office as your own. He was basically your receptionist, though it was also his job to screen people who came through, and make sure that they behaved themselves.

It occured to you that the woman he’d just announced was technically his boss. And it also occurred to you that he never announced Dave.

“Uh… Sir?”

You shook the distracting thoughts out of your head and reach forward to press the flashing intercom button on your desk.

“Sorry, had to figure out how to answer this thing,” You lied. “Go ahead and send her in.”

The door hissed, and your security chief sauntered in like she owned the place, tossing a confident smirk your way as she approached your desk.

Totra had been security chief about as long as you’d really been aware of the position, so you don’t particularly remember her from school.

She had a long mane of striking deep red hair, which she had abandoned the typical helmet in order to show off. She wore her vault security armor with a comfortable familiarity.

The security chief turned the chair across from your desk around so the back faced you, and sat on it with one leg on either side, leaning over to look you in the eyes. “Enjoying your first day in the hotseat, Sir?”

You quickly recovered from her complete disregard for your usual expectations for how these meetings should go, and answered “It’s definitely been interesting. The reality isn’t quite the same as what we were trained for, is it?”

“You mean a bunch of old geezers who were born more than 200 years ago and never lived in a vault might have had some dumb ideas about how we should be running things? I’d say ‘don’t let the overseer hear you say that’, but the space between your mouth and your ears isn’t that long.”

You chuckled at her joke before you had a chance to think about it, but once you did you realized that it was probably the right move. You would be working pretty closely with Security, given that sentences for rule violations come from the Office of the Overseer, and it would be best to start out on a familiar footing.

“So what’s different on your end?” you asked, leaning back in your chair a little.

She rolled her eyes. “The vids made it seem like we’d be dealing with thieves and riots and murders all the time. The real job’s a lot less exciting; everyone knows everyone, everyone knows we’ve got cameras everywhere, and everyone knows that they can’t just ‘skip town’, like in the old days. I hardly ever make my people carry their pistols except when there’s a retirement coming up. Though, speaking of which…”

You winced a little. “There’s one coming up soon, isn’t there?”

She nodded, the look in her eyes hardening a bit. “Maintenance is having a party for old Nick Hesting today. 45th birthday party. He should show up on your terminal tomorrow.”

“I assume security is keeping an eye on the proceedings?” you asked.

She nodded knowingly. “I’ve learned to keep the schedule a bit light so that it’s not too much of a strain when I need to get a bunch of guys to work a double. Half the time, nothing happens, but the other half… well, people go crazy sometimes when they feel like they have nothing to lose. It's the main reason I asked for this meeting, to make sure it didn’t take you by surprise if we have to lay down the law tomorrow.”

New Resource: Disciplined Professional Security Your security force is well-trained and well-equipped, ready to handle any civil disturbance with all necessary force New Complication: Retirement Retirement age in Vault 18 is 45 years. Most people try not to think about it, and really, can you blame them?

The rest of your meeting with Nichole was spent going over some details of how the security force was structured and what would be expected of you when they brought someone in. When you asked whether anyone was in the holding cells, she waved it off saying “Just one old troublemaker,” though you got the sense that there was something more to that she didn’t want to talk about. You think that maybe you’ll look into that further later on.

Your mind went back to the tray of brownies in your desk drawer, and it flashed through your mind that you were technically in possession of contraband while having a conversation with the security chief.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, leaning a bit closer.

“Have you had any issues with Dave?” you answered her question with a question, instinctively deflecting to something related to your sudden (probably unfounded, you were her boss after all) nervousness.

“Dave?” She blinked. “Ah… one of my officers?”

“I’m talking about the Hydroponics chief.”

Her eyes widened a bit as the puzzle pieces suddenly connected. “Oh… You’re talking about his little side business.”

You nodded, and she shrugged.

“No one has really cared about Reefer for years.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Decades, really. Dave doesn’t grow enough of it to impact people getting their work done, and it doesn’t cause nearly as many social disturbances as booze. It’s still contraband, so sometimes we got someone who needs to go down for something and that’s what we’ve got on them, and sometimes the threat of an officer taking their stash is enough of a punishment to keep people in line. People trade the stuff all the time, it’s practically a currency down here. And personally, as long as they don’t try to smoke it, I don’t care. We all have to breathe the same air.”

New Complication: Underground Economy Commerce... finds a way. In the absence of a more stable currency, vault dwellers hoard Reefer, Booze, and other high value items, and trade them for goods and services. This means that a significant portion of your vault's activity is not under your control.

You had devolved into listening to some of Nichole’s war stories as security chief when the intercom sounded.

“Sir, Waste Management chief Bauman is here to see you,” came the officer’s voice over the speakers.

“I suppose that’s my cue to exit stage left,” Nichole said, standing up and flipping her chair more-or-less forward again.

You pressed the button. “Go ahead and send him in, the Security Chief was just leaving,” you answer your receptionist/guard, nodding to Nicole.

The door slid open and Chief Bauman strode in, with a deeply sour expression on his face. You’d gone to school with Greg, though you’d had less in common once you’d gotten onto the leadership track and he’d ended up in mechanical last year.

Nichole caught his eye before he got too far, and that stopped him in his tracks. “Take it easy, Bauman. It's his first day.”

The man let out a hard breath, with what almost sounded like a growl behind it. “...fine,” he grumbled, looking a bit deflated.

“Good.” Nichole flashed a winning smile to both of you, but you were left with the impression that she was also baring her teeth. “See you boys around.”

She left, and an awkward silence was left in her wake. Finally, you broke it. “Come on and have a seat, Greg. It’s clear your upset about something, and the nice thing about this being my first day is that I can definitely say whatever it is isn't my fault.”

That seemed to catch him off balance. He'd just twisted his face into an expression that told you he was about to launch into some kind of rehearsed speech, and suddenly what he'd meant to say didn't apply anymore.

He swallowed his words and considered you for a moment. Then he started again. “Alright, not yet at least. And if you listen to me, maybe you won't be responsible for the next cholera outbreak.”

That made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. One of your history lessons had covered the events of fifty years ago, when an outbreak of disease had decimated the vault population.

“Ok, Greg,” you said, shifting forward to look him in the eye. “I'm listening.”

He took that as permission to launch into an extended griping session, seemingly without pausing for breath. He didn't have enough people, and critical jobs were waiting for spare parts to be fabricated. The waste management system was riddled with workarounds and jury rigged solutions, and half of it might fall apart at any moment.

Assuming that Greg wasn't exaggerating, it would be a good idea to reassign some people to waste management and to tell manufacturing to make their parts at priority. But resources in the vault weren't free; anything you gave to one department, you'd be taking from another.

New Complication: Neglected plumbing You live in a hole in the ground. If you don't do something about this situation, that could quickly turn into a literal shithole.

“That’s enough,” you let out a breath, holding your nose with two fingers. You felt a headache forming. “I can’t make any promises yet, I don’t know what resources we have. But I’d like you to write up a list of what you need, both the parts and the positions you need filled, and I’ll see what I can shake loose for you. OK?”

Greg looked worn out, like he’d been running on anger since he’d come in, and now that you’d disarmed that he was running out of batteries. “I can put that together, Sir.”

“Good.” You nodded and offer him a weary smile. “Is there anything else?”

He shook his head as he got up. “No Sir… just… this is really important. I’m begging you to take this seriously.”

You met his eyes, and hoped that you were conveying reassurance through your gaze. “I can promise you, I am.”

And with that, your meetings were done for the day. You glanced through a few more pages of Water department reports, but failed to divine any important meaning out of what you read. Everything’s fine with Water Purification, you’re sure.

You figure you can focus and do one more significant thing today, but your department chiefs will be off the clock at this point. You decide to...

[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which, not water)
[ ] Consult with the previous overseer (Will mean swallowing your pride a bit)
[ ] Walk around, try to get the sense of the vault community.
[ ] Drop in at Nick Hesting’s birthday party

 

Voting is closed, with 2 votes for:

[X] Drop in at Nick Hesting’s birthday party

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 2

For: Birthday party (65%)

Rolled on: October-09-2018, 09:24pm

See dice roll details

2

Critical Success! This should be interesting.

 

Voting Closed!

Spoiler: Vote Tally

2 Votes for
[X]Get a real sense of significant problems in the vault
[X] propose research into the water supply, find out how 50 years ago the water became infected.

1 Vote for
[X]Get a real sense of significant problems in the vault.
[X] Write in an objective.
-[X]Bring up the concept of a breeding program to expand our labor force in the long run.

Winning plan is
[X]Get a real sense of significant problems in the vault
[X] propose research into the water supply, find out how 50 years ago the water became infected.


This next week I plan to focus on this quite a bit.

 

((Surprise update two years later! I was going through some shit! Now my leg's broke and there's a Coronavirus, so I found my way back to this. I have no idea if anyone wants this anymore, but here you go anyway!))

You’d decided it was time to stretch your legs a bit, and get a feel for the upcoming minor crisis. Locking down your terminal, you took a couple of quick notes on your pipboy and, just to make it easier to find your way, entered in a new ‘quest’.

It had been a while since you’d made use of the ‘quest’ feature. It was useful when you were a kid and needed help navigating through the vault, but most adults had seen everything so many times they could walk through most areas of the vault in their sleep.

New Quest: THE RETIREMENT PARTY

There, now a marker showed that in order to reach your objective, you’d need to go through the door to your office. How useful.

Officer Hyland looked over as your door slid open behind him. “Done for the day, Sir?”

You shook your head. “I’m stopping by the birthday party in Maintenance.”

He nodded, locking down his own terminal and pushing his seat back. “I’d better go with you then. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way.”

You strode through the corridors at a brisk pace. While the Overseers office looks out onto the atrium through a unique ovoid window, the actual entrance was accessed through security. It made sense, you suppose, if there were ever riots in the vault you would want to be well protected.

You pass a couple of security officers in the hall, and soon you find yourself in the wide-open atrium, passing under the window to your own office. The main dining area sits just off to the side, with a significant dinner rush coming in. You smiled and waved to a few people, feeling a deep internal awkwardness as you quickly moved on toward the stairs. Maintenance was three floors down.

Once you left the public area, the polished look of the vault gradually receded, and things began to look a bit more dilapidated. You’d always been somewhat aware that there just wasn’t enough manpower to keep the entire vault looking like it did the day the bombs fell, and you’d always felt a vague sense of unease around the parts that had been allowed to decay.

The maintenance department was mostly composed of storage rooms for spare parts, and workshops where broken or malfunctioning things could be repaired or scrapped for parts. There were a lot of broken machines down here, seeming to have replaced the neat shelves as the source for spare parts.

“So where is this party exactly?” you asked Hyland as you reached an intersection.

The man gestured to the left. “Over here. They turned one of the old storage rooms into a sort of break room.”

You glanced through the windows set into the metal vault doors as you were led through the corridor. The workshops were unmanned, which didn’t surprise you, since maintenance work could be done at any time and most of the department would be attending the party. What did surprise you was how sparse some of the storage rooms looked. From the historical footage you’d seen, all these rooms were absolutely filled with supplies and spare parts when the vault was first put together.

It made sense that things were starting to run out after almost two hundred years; in fact, now that you thought about it, it was kind of surprising that your vault had managed this long.

“We’re here,” Hyland announced, stopping in front of a vault door. The sounds of conversation could barely be made out through it. The security officer reached for the panel by the door. “I’ll go in first.”

A wave of sound washed over you as the door opened, and it took you a moment for your ears to adjust. They had a broken jukebox, with it’s dome removed and the robot arm that selects holotapes twitching and extending and contracting along with the beat. The song was one you recognized, but played louder and faster than you were ever used to hearing it.

Standard issue Happy Birthday balloons floated around the ceiling. Someone had set up a miniature bowling lane with party hats and a baseball.

The party had clearly wound down somewhat by the time you got there. Only a small wedge was left of the round birthday cake in the center of the table.

About a dozen vault dwellers, all wearing tool pouches alongside their standard issue vault suits, we're sitting around the pair of tables, about half of them slumped over. You got the impression from the empty drink cups that there’d been quite a few more of them when the party was in full swing.

A Mr. Handy robot hovered around, refilling a drink cup. On noticing that the other cups were still full, as the dwellers had already had about as much as they could stand, the machine rotated around and pointed It’s single mechanical eye at you, its ocular filter rotating to bring you into focus.

“OH good evening, Overseer, and welcome to the party!” The robot had a drink cup and party hat dispenser strapped to his shoulder, and he deftty grabbed one of each with his metal claw and held them out toward you. “Would you care for the customary party accoutrements?”

You took the cup and hat, but a quick glance told you that no one else was wearing the hats. The robot’s other arm was equipped with a hose leading to a tap, which it positioned over your cup, filling it with fruit punch.

By this point, you’d drawn the stares of nearly everyone in the room, including a few you’d assumed had passed out. Some had looks of confusion, and you quickly realized why: they were probably expecting Overseer Budack.

Not sure what else to do, you took a drink to stall for time, then raised your cup and smiled. “I heard there was a celebration, and thought I should come down and see how everyone was doing.” You turn to Nick Hesting, giving him the best smile you can manage. He wore glasses over a thinning face that had begun to wrinkle at the cheeks, and wore a green baseball cap to cover his balding head.

“Happy birthday, Nick. And thank you for everything you’ve done for our vault over the years.”
A moment of silence passed between everyone, as they digested that. You could feel the presence of Hyland over your shoulder, though you made an effort not to look at him.

Then Nick laughed, raising his own glass to you. “Fourty five good years in vault. Didn’t even occur to me that there’d be a new overseer soon. Funny that the same day that’s your first is my last, huh?”
You manage a half-hearted chuckle, and Nick waves for you to come closer. “Come on, Overseer, you’re old enough for this now.” He tilted the glass bottle of clear liquor on the table over into your cup, spiking your fruit punch with a generous helping.

“Now it’s a party. Come have a seat.”

With a shrug, you joined them. You kept your own drinking a little light, wanting to make sure you kept control of the situation while you listened to Nick enthusiastically pick up a conversation about an old maintenance war story, slowly dragging the others back into it.

A while later, Nick, standing up with a bit of a wobble, got you to try a few of the party games they’d been playing. You bowled for the party-hat pins, you played a round of cards, and you played a round of darts that the maintenance crew had filed from metal shavings, which he handily won. Then he went over and shook Allison awake.

Allison Levin, head of maintenance. You recognized her from the picture in the overseer’s terminal as she blinked her bleary eyes back to wakefulness. “Wh-what?” she muttered, eyes focusing on him. “Ni-ick?”
“Sorry to wake you,” Nick said, chuckling. “I know you need your sleep, but the new overseer is here, and I thought you should meet him.”

He waved in your direction, and her eyes followed, slowly focusing on you. “New Overseer? Oh… oh right.” She shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “S-sorry, you… you shouldn’t see me like this, first time…”

She was clearly still quite drunk. By this point, you were a bit tipsy yourself. They distilled some strong stuff down in the vault. “It’s OK,” you reassure her. “I came to see Nick on his Birthday.”

“Nick… fuck, right…” Allison staggered up to her feet. You and Nick both got ready to catch her, but you weren’t quite ready for her to throw herself toward the old man, grabbing hold of him tightly. “Nick… Nick I’m gonna miss you so bad. What am I gonna do down here without you, Nick?”

The old man awkwardly patted her back. “You’ll keep this place running, just like I did when I was your age.”

“Niiiiick,” she whined, thumping her arm on his chest. “When yo-ou were my age, you rebuilt HALF the vault! You still teaching me how to… to fix all that stuff…” She let go of him with one arm, but held on with the other as she drunkenly swayed back, blinking at you again.

“Wait… You’re the overseer.” She pointed at you. “M-make it so Nick can stay. We need him.”

Other conversations around the party immediately died off. Everyone just stared at the three of you in shock. Even Nick seemed extremely uncomfortable. “Ally… no,” he muttered to her.

You weren’t sure how to react. Could you do that? Just decide, as overseer, that Nick had more time? The idea sent a shiver through your spine, as you thought of how many people had retired at 45. It wouldn’t be right to make an exception for Nick, would it?

Fortunately, before you could say something you might regret, Officer Hyland marched up to save you. “Alright, party’s over. Overseer, it’s clearly time to go.” He glared at Allison, who just clung to Nick’s side more tightly, but he put a hand on your shoulder.

Still not sure what to say, you let him usher you out of there.

Well, that was an enlightening experience.

Complication: Poor documentation. Centuries of jury-rigged maintenance solutions without proper documentation have left the vault in a state where the current maintenance personnel struggle to comprehend what they’re working with. The reality under a given service panel hasn’t matched the textbooks for decades.

Despite the vault moonshine you indulged in, sleep didn’t come easily. It was only last year that your parents retired. Your mother’s birthday came first, but your father wouldn’t let her go alone; he insisted on holding her hand as they went together. The vivid memory plays back through your head, watching from the gathered crowd as the great vault door rolled open, revealing the between chamber and the second vault door which would only open when the first one closed. They walked together into that empty space, and then you have to assume out beyond the vault, to whatever fate awaits those who retire. It was beautiful. Some people still talked about it.

You knew it was necessary, that an aging population would lead to the collapse of society in another great disaster. But knowing that didn’t make it stop hurting.

You wake up suddenly as your Pipboy’s alarm goes off, to find yourself once again in the Overseer’s quarters. You might think you hadn’t slept at all if you didn’t remember the dreams. More luxurious than any other room in the vault, the Overseer’s quarters feel alien and unwelcoming to you as you push forward into your morning routine. It will take a while yet for you to accept that you belong here.

Still, there isn’t anyone else ready to sit behind that desk, and you’re damned sure you’re not going to go crying to Burdack to take over for you, so before long you find yourself in front of the Overseers terminal again.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only Date: December 30th, 2249 Population: 426 Retirements Pending: 1

What actions do you want to take today? (Choose 5)

[ ] Call a meeting of all department heads. (Takes 2 actions).
[ ] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. (write in which)
[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which)
[ ] Research retirement in the vault’s history.
[ ] Walk around, try to get the sense of the vault community.
[ ] Write in a suggestion.

 

Alright, I'm going to go ahead and call it with a unanimous vote for:

[X] Call a meeting of all department heads. (Takes 2 actions.)
[X] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. Allison Levin
[X] Research retirement in the vault’s history.
[X] Walk around, try to get the sense of the vault community.

Now for some rolls:

Spoiler: Rolls

Social Rolls against Speech at 65%


Research roll against Science at 40%


Notice roll against Perception at 40%

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 81

For: All Department Meeting

Rolled on: April-03-2020, 10:40am

See dice roll details

81

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 74

For: Meeting with Allison

Rolled on: April-03-2020, 10:40am

See dice roll details

74

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 37

For: Research Retirement

Rolled on: April-03-2020, 10:40am

See dice roll details

37

Pyritr rolled 1 die of 100 faces, total: 78

For: Take a Stroll

Rolled on: April-03-2020, 10:40am

See dice roll details

78

Both of those social rolls were failures. That was unexpected. As a Smooth Tallker, you get to make one of them succeed anyway. The other one will go badly. Do you succeed at:

[ ] Meeting of all department heads.
[ ] Meeting with Allison

 

Voting Closed!

[ x] Meeting of all departments heads
2 Votes

[ ] Meeting with Allison Levin
1 Vote

So the meeting will succeed. I will post back soon with some choices about what you want to accomplish from it.

 

You knew retirement is just a fact of life. It happened to everyone, and so there was no one to blame for it. Everyone knew that the vault couldn’t support an aging population. Everyone knew it would be disrespectful to all the generations that had gone through the vault door before yours to even think about evading it somehow. Hardly anyone ever talked about it, and even jokes like “He’s got such an ego he thinks he’s exempt from retirement’ were too crass to say in anything but the most familiar company.

And now, even thinking about it felt dangerous. It hadn’t before, when you’d talked with your friends about what you wanted to do before you retired, or listened to the stories people made up about what adventures retirees got up to in the world outside of the vault. This was different.

Nick Hesting was going to retire tonight, and Allison had asked you to stop it from happening. And even though the idea was shocking, it wormed its way deeper and deeper into your mind. As Overseer, could you overrule someone’s retirement? Were there circumstances that might justify that? What if the vault really would fall apart without Nick’s guidance on how to repair it? Your training had made it clear that life-or-death situations for the entire vault weren’t out of the question, and what you knew of history confirmed that.

But then what would the next person slated to retire say? The solidarity between citizens of the vault would have been broken, once everyone saw Nick get special treatment. Maybe you could just give him a couple more years, and then ask him to retire? Somehow that seemed even more wrong.

With your thoughts running in circles, you turn to the archives. People have been retiring from the vault for over a century, surely there would be some example of someone trying to make an exception.

The first thing you find is the Overseer’s directive. Or rather, it flashed up when you actually finished entering your information as a new Overseer, which had slipped your mind yesterday.

CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL OVERSEER EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01011 Vault 18 is designed to test the long-term social effects of reversing the normal human curve of power and authority. As a result, no department management terminals will accept entry from a citizen of the vault over the age of 30. As a general guideline, new department heads are to be appointed from the pool of recent graduates from the vault education system, and for a maximum term of 10 years. To further ensure that old ideas do not hold Vault 18’s society back, and that there cannot arise a system where the elderly citizens dictate to the young directors what should actually take place, the vault has a retirement age of 45. Within one week of a citizen’s 45th birthday, they must make use of the unique double vault door airlock system to exit the vault. Any attempt to circumvent this requirement will cause vital vault systems to shut down, beginning with food production, and ending with life support. Under no circumstances is the retirement process to be interrupted. This includes the Overseer and all department heads, though the limitation to 10 year terms and 30 years of age should preclude those whose retirement is imminent still being in power. As Overseer, you will also be expected to comply. The survival of your vault depends on your compliance.

Well… that was ominous.

Two wires connect in your mind, and before you know it you’re pulling up the logs from fifty years ago. At first, you don’t know quite what you’re looking for, but once you remind yourself of the exact date of the cholera outbreak, it’s rather simple to go back 45 years and look through the birth records.

Taking note of a few names, you go back to the dates each of them would have retired. Official notes are sparse, sometimes non-existent. At the end of the Cholera outbreak, a new overseer took over, and mostly talked about the clean-up effort. Looking through this Overseer’s correspondance with a fine-toothed comb, you find a message to their security chief a few months later. ‘There’s a retirement tonight. I’d like you to post a few extra officers to keep an eye on things. We can’t go through that again.’

You check a few more things to confirm. Medical records, death records, food production
records. Everything you see makes the image of what happened more clear.

Fifty years ago an overseer tried to prevent a retirement. Before the end of the month, food production and water purification had shut down. The Overseer tried to find a workaround while there was still plenty of food left in the vault, but the water supply became infected.

And then something happened. A riot? A Mutiny? A civil war? You weren’t sure what to call it, but by the end the Overseer and her father, who she’d tried to keep from retiring, were killed. Gunshot wound, the death records said. And once the system registered that there wasn’t a retired citizen still in the vault, everything turned back on.

You feel cold as your mind works its way back to the present. Retirement wasn’t just a tradition, it was a requirement, and your vault was held hostage to ensure it continued.

Vault-Tec Protocols The Vault system is set up to ensure that you follow the basic protocols set up by Vault Tec over a century ago. Society as you know it is the result of previous generations following these protocols. Do you dare try to circumvent them?

“Overseer?” Came your receptionist’s voice over the intercom. “The department heads are here for your general meeting. Should I break out the extra chairs?”

Extra chairs. Yeah, that makes sense. Just another reminder of how little you understood what was expected of you as Overseer. You press the intercom button. “Yes, please do. And go ahead and let them in.”

The department heads start filing into your office. The ones you’ve met with recently, Allison, Nichole, David, and Greg, along with Fred Hatch from Water Purification with his sort of smug professionalism; Jessica Carter from Power Systems with her bubbly, upbeat persona; Krystine Card from Distribution, who looks tired and passes dirty looks around at the others; Dwight Adler from Morale & Education, who’d already taken out a pen and pad of paper to scrawl on; and the Reynolds siblings, Sam and Paula, who headed up Health and Life Support and Manufacturing respectively.

It occurs to you now, as chairs are brought in two by two to let them sit down in a half-circle around you, why the Overseer’s desk has this oval shape. You’re at the center of this discussion, and will have significant ability to guide it.

What do you want to accomplish here?

(Choose 2)

[ ]Talk about retirement, get everyone’s opinions
[ ]Ferret out excess resources
[ ]Get a real sense of significant problems in the vault.
[ ]Prioritize one department for extra support (Choose one)
[ ] Write in an objective.

 

You look out at the collection of people laid out before you. All the people who run the vault in which you were, until yesterday, just a citizen. And now they were all watching you, waiting to see what your effort to lead them would look like.

Taking in a deep breath, you got things rolling. “Before me, I understand Overseer Burdack was the only Overseer any of you worked under. That’s just how leadership positions work. You’re all used to the way he did things, to what he expected from you. Now you’re going to need to learn what I expect from you, and I’ll need to learn what you expect from me. Burdack ran this vault smoothly for ten years, at least as far as I’m aware, and I’m going to need your help to keep it running, and hopefully figure out how to run it even better.”

“Now, I’m going to hear from each of you in turn about your department’s situation and concerns, and spend a bit of time hashing out possible solutions to those concerns, and then I’m going to speak again about a few ideas I want to open the floor to.”

Glancing to Allison subconsciously, you notice that she’s staring down at her hands with a distant look in her eyes. She happens to be sitting next to you, so you turn to the other side. “Paula, why don’t you start us off?”

Paula delivered her report professionally, giving you the impression that she was almost bored with the proceeding. She explained that while the vault had quite substantial manufacturing capacity, the supply of materials was shorter every year. She summarized the way that the vault’s recycling program worked, but explained that they lost materials and ended up with weaker products every time they recycled the same set of materials. “We’re currently able to keep up with demand, but recycling returns are sporadic and that leads to perennial shortages. And in shortages, we need to prioritize the most essential departments.”

Next, her brother Sam spoke up, reporting on the vault’s healthcare resources. “We’re staffed for a crisis, so we’re overstaffed in normal circumstances. As it is, my people are putting in hours with Education to train the next generation.” The vault population, he explained, was healthy overall, and their medicine supply was well-stocked. When prompted about the life support systems, he said “It would be ideal to replace the air filters about twice as often, but the current schedule is adequate for air quality from what I’ve seen.”

Dwight says that the upcoming cohort of students, about a three-year spread of the vault population’s children, are “performing up to expectations,” and updates you that they will graduate in two years. “Realistically the greatest challenge in my department is preserving the education and entertainment materials,” he explains in his somewhat nasally voice. “Our holoreels need to be treated with care in order to avoid damage, and even minor wear can add up over the years. A few of our old movies are barely watchable.”

Kristine explains that the vault’s distribution system is working well enough, with people generally reporting satisfaction with the cafeteria, lounge, and commissary. However, some shortages have popped up recently, straining the system. “We had a one-day shortage of toothpaste, and apparently word got around and people responded of course by all coming in the next day and taking their allowed requisition of it, which meant that we were out for over a week.” You notice a look pass between her and Paula, before she finishes with “We were eventually able to get that one under control.”
David look a bit more professional today, as he talks up how well his department is doing, how they’ve consistently harvested a surplus, and he’s made a point of storing dehydrated food every year. “We never know when we’re gonna need it, so now we have it when we do.”

Nichole reports once again that her security teams are in good order and ready to do whatever’s necessary to keep the vault secure. However, she says that their equipment is a bit suspect, and their stock of 10MM ammo is low enough that they’ve only been able to do very limited range training, but that no one’s had to actually fire a gun at a vault citizen in years.

Next, Jessica excitedly explains that the vault’s power supply is running quite well, and that her fusion cores are good for another century at least. “Our stockpile of spare parts is a little bit low, but I’m sure we can make do with what we have for another year at least!”

Then it’s Greg’s turn. He immediately launches into a prepared speech, you suspect the very one he’d intended to deliver to you yesterday. He explains that the waste processing systems are woefully in need of an overhaul, and pleads for more parts and personnel. “I’ve got sewage piping that’s been patched three, four times. It just needs to be replaced, but we just don’t have the pipe. I need to install proper cleanout valves in half a dozen places, but I just don’t have them. And my boys and girls are working around the clock to keep these decaying pipes together.”

Fred follows that up, explaining that Water Systems has most of what they need, and somewhat smugly explains that his pipes need priority because they see continuous, high-pressure use, rather than the sporadic, low-pressure flow that the black-water pipes get. This starts an argument with Greg that you have to step in and break up. Changing the topic, he concludes by noting “We’ve also recently replaced our water purification system’s main control chip, and have half a case of spares.”

Silence falls over the room as attention turns to Allison. You mention her name to prompt her, and she almost robotically says “Maintenance can keep up with our responsibilities with what we have. I… understand everyone needs resources and personnel. My department is no exception. But we can make it work. We always have.” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks, and you quickly move on with the meeting in order to keep from embarrassing her.

Diminishing Returns The vault hasn’t had an injection of new materials in almost two centuries, and it’s starting to show. Unless something is done about it, the vault will face more common and more severe shortages over the coming years.

Hoarders Your vault population is prone to reacting to shortages by hoarding necessary supplies. This could quickly cause minor problems to become major problems.

There’s a discussion around the table that quickly breaks down to bickering over the prioritization of different departments’ needs, which the shortage issues have exacerbated. When the talks have become fully unproductive, you put a stop to them by changing the subject.

“As Overseer, I believe my most important duty is to prepare for and attempt to prevent crisis scenarios,” you open. “On that front, I’ve been looking into the last major crisis, the disease outbreak fifty years ago. I’ve been looking through my records, trying to understand what exactly happened. I wanted to get your perspectives on it.”

It’s obvious that this isn’t what your people expected to hear, and it promps a few glances between them. So you turn to Fred. “From what I can tell, it was a problem with the water supply. Can you explain to me what you think happened?”

Fred was a bit taken aback by that, but did his best to gather his wits. “Well, Overseer… I’ll have to check my records, but from what I recall, I believe that the water purification system shut down entirely. I… believe my predecessors at the time attempted some form of workaround? He shook his head. “I take it as an object lesson of why not to mess with the systems that Vault Tec gave us.”

Greg further adds “The waste treatment system stopped working around the same time. I don’t know if it was related, but it must have caused a significant backup and overflow problem. And we’ll see it happen again if we don’t do something first, it was probably just a series of little problems adding up!”

You turn to Nichole next. “What about the security response at the time? There had to be one, even if it was just keeping people from panicking.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t remember exactly, but I do remember that my records get really spotty back then.”

“Alright, could you please look into that for me? In fact, everyone, I want each of you to put together a report on what your department records say about the events of fifty years ago. I want us all to be fully informed about what happened so we can avoid anything like it happening again.”

And with that, you wrap up the meeting. However, you also wanted to talk to Allison, and since she’s already here you ask her to stay while everyone else heads out.

Once the door closes, an awkward silence fills the room as you look at her and try to figure out how to shift. She sits in the same hunched over position, looking away from you.

“Allison,” you start. “I w--”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupts, shaking. “I don’t know why I said that last night. It was wrong to ask you to do that.” She covers her eyes with her hands. “Do… do I need to resign?”

“Allison, no…” You sigh. You’d hoped to get a chance to talk to her about retirement, about whether she really could manage without Nick, about how to solve the issues with Maintenance’s jury-rigged systems. But she was clearly not in a state to think things through right now. “I’m about to lose one valuable member of Maintenance, I definitely can’t afford to lose the head of the department.”

You pat her shoulder and give her a winning smile. “It’s going to be alright,” you tell her, making a promise you hope you can somehow keep.

By the time you’re done consoling Allison and she leaves, you feel mentally and emotionally exhausted. Hitting your PA, you tell your secretary/security guard that you’d like to take a break and hit the lounge.

---

The vault lounge is the primary place where people go to relax and socialize. Moreso than the cafeteria, which tends to be more ‘down to business’, as it’s so frequently filled with people grabbing a meal before a work shift.

No, the lounge was just a place that a vault citizen could spend a few hours, meet friends, chat with the bartender, and generally try to be themself, or at least attempt to be someone popular and likable. The shot of booze that Lynda slipped into each glass of nuka-cola unless you asked her not to helped a lot with that.

The middle-aged woman behind the bar spotted you as you made your way in, and raises an empty glass in the air in a sort of salute. “Hey, everyone, it’s the new Overseer!” she calls out, getting the attention of everyone in the lounge. “Let’s hear it for the new Overseer, and the next ten years!”

Cheering comes from every side as you made your way forward, and Lynda pours you a glass of nuka-cola, complete with ice-cubes and some booze to give it kick. Feeling a little shy at all the attention, you thank her and do your best to play it off cool.

Between the drink and the open, welcoming atmosphere, it’s easy to let go of your troubles for a little while. You’ve got your work cut out for you as Overseer, having ferreted out all the vault’s troubles over the last couple of days.

Then someone puts “Jumpin’ Jive” on the jukebox, and the dancing starts. You get pulled into more than one dance, as people seem to just want to be a part of this moment.

Passing from partner to partner, song to song, hours slip away unnoticed. It’s only when your Pipboy flashes a ‘quest update’ that you’re pulled out of the moment.

11:45, December 30th, 2249 Retirement pending: Nick Hesting Overseer’s attendance is required.

That brings your mood right down. You look up to see your security guard making his way through the lounge, and make eye contact with him. He nods.

With a sigh, you nod back and follow him out of the vault’s hangout place, and out to the entrance, or as it’s only been used since the bombs dropped, the exit.

You know you’re running late by the way that everyone else is already gathered in place, but at least things don’t seem to have gotten too awkward, yet. There Nick stands, surrounded by family and close friends. You’re pretty sure those are his two daughters, holding each other and crying. You see Allison, too, doing her best to look strong and in control. She avoids eye contact with you.

It’s a simple little ritual. You remember your part in it from the handful of retirements you’d attended: the Overseer’s job was to publicly thank the retiree, on behalf of the vault, for their life of service to the community, and to wish them luck in whatever remained of the world above.

The room gets quiet as you arrive and move toward your position. They’d enjoyed the last few minutes extension, but everyone knew what was about to happen.

Except you. You take a breath, and reflect, thinking through what you’d learned in the scant days you’d had to get used to this position. A few options flash through your head, but you know you’re going to have to pick one, and live with it. The crowd watches you expectantly.

[ ] Proceed with the retirement ceremony as normal.
[ ] Try to put a stop to the retirement.
[ ] Write in some other option.

 

You look at Nick standing in front of that vault door, looking back at you with resigned expectation. Waiting for you to send him out of the vault, to who knows what, and to never return.

You feel deeply conflicted. This has been your vault’s way of life for over a century. The last attempt to disrupt it resulted in so many deaths, that the vault population was only now starting to recover. What right did you have to disrupt it?

But at the same time, what right did you have to abandon Nick whatever fate awaited him, after all the years he’d served the vault? Was that how he should be repaid?

No. You couldn’t do it. But you also couldn’t just tell him to stay and assume it would all work out. There had to be another way.

Your mind raced as you realized you were running out of time. Everyone was expecting a speech to send Nick off, so you started speaking, stalling for time as you desperately tried to piece a plan together.

“This vault has kept us safe for seventeen generations of Overseer before me,” you start off. “We’ve held together that whole time, depending on one another to keep this place working. Nick Hesting, you’ve done more than most of us to ensure that this vault continues day by day, and year by year.”

“You’ve gone beyond the call of your duty as a vault citizen. And it’s only right and proper that now, at the end of your career, you be relieved of the weight of that responsibility. And I apologize, Nick, that I have to ask more of you.”

You could feel the crowd snap to attention. In that moment you’d gone off the script, and suddenly the routine ceremony changed, became historical. One way or another.

Suppressing your fear, you push yourself forward, reaching a hand up imploringly. “Our vault is quickly reaching a point of no return. We’ve all noticed the shortages, heard the rumors. We’re running out of materials. And in the face of that, I can’t discard such an important asset to this vault.”

That prompted a gasp. Whispers. You needed to drive it home before they started to get agitated. You reached a hand out to the old maintenance worker. “Nick, you’re retiring. I can’t properly give you orders anymore. You’re a free man. But what I am going to do is ask you to volunteer for something new. Something that might keep our vault alive.”

That took the steam out of the crowd’s response. They just stared in abject amazement as you did the impossible, as you brought the dead back to life in front of their eyes.

“You’re going to go out through those doors just like your parents did, Nick, just like mine did too. But I’m going to ask you to give us three days to get you properly prepared for it.” Three days was about the most you wanted to risk, to keep vault systems from shutting down on you. “And when we send you out, if you choose to accept this quest, you’ll gather new materials for us at the vault door, and when the next retirement happens, we’ll bring it inside. And then the next time, if there’s anything you need out there, we’ll make sure you get it.”

You solemnly walked over to stand in front of Nick, and clasped your hands in front of him. “What do you say, Nick,” you ask. You make it his decision, because you know the population will be more willing to accept it from him. And if you read him right earlier…

Tears come to his eyes, and it’s clear he doesn’t know what to say at first, but as the silence sets across the room, he can’t help but offer an answer. He nods. “Y-yes, yes of course. I… I’d be happy to help, Overseer.”

You reach out to shake his hand, and he pulls you into a hug. Someone in the crowd cheers; one of Nick’s daughters. That starts the ball rolling, and soon most of the crowd, gathered to mourn someone they’d never see again, starts to rally. Nick is swarmed by friends and family, and you take the opportunity to back out of the scrum a bit.

Nichole steps up to your side in an instant, a hand on your shoulder. She has an icy look on her face. “Overseer,” she whispers. “You really need to tell me when you’re going to pull something like this.”

You probably would have if you’d known that yourself. Still, you nod. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.”

“Well,” Nichole said, her head stock still as her eyes slid across the room, assessing the situation. “You can’t unsound this alarm. My people are going to be putting in extra hours for the next week, making sure the fallout from this doesn’t get out of hand. But for now, I recommend you give the crowd a closing statement, and then we get you out of here before the mood has a chance to shift.”

You spot Allison in the crowd, staring at you with a look of dumbfounded confusion, and nod.

Stepping forward, you wait for a lull in the jubilation, and cut in again. “”Thank you, Nick, for being a part of our future. And thank all of you, for supporting him.” You raise three fingers in the air. “Three days! That’s when we begin this new project, together!”

---

When you wake up the next day, you’re not immediately sure if what happened the previous night was a dream. It’s not until you get to your desk and see the terminal screen that you really accept that it actually happened. You held back a man’s retirement.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only Date: December 31st, 2249 Population: 426 Retirements Pending: 1 (!!!)

Checking the alert, you pull up an additional message:

Retirement over 24 hours overdue. Retirement MUST be processed before 01/07/2250.

Well, that at least gives you a clear deadline.

Next you pull up your daily messages, and wince as your unread messages goes well into the double digits. While your speech went over well at the aborted retirement ceremony, it seems now that the rest of the vault is hearing about it more than one person has a problem with it. You read one message thanking you for being the first one to finally say something about the insane practice of retirement, and next a message castigating you for ruining the dignity of Nick’s retirement to wring more labor out of him.

Leaning back in your chair, you set about trying to organize your day.

What actions do you want to take today? (Choose 5)

[ ] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. (write in which)
[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which)
[ ] Take time to respond to the messages and smooth things over.
[ ] Write in a suggestion.

 

(Also, it's past time for this.
And after review, starting Science skill is actually at 48, so the above 42 rolls both passed!)

You just leveled up! Welcome to Level 2 (Vault Scion) Skill points to spend: 19
Small Guns	25%
Big Guns	10%
Energy Weapons	10%
Unarmed	48%
Melee Weapons	48%
Throwing	20%
First Aid	22%
Doctor	16%
Sneak	20%
Lockpick	19%
Steal	15%
Traps	19%
Science	48%
Repair	21%
Barter	58%
Speech	60%
Gambling	35%
Outdoorsman	24%

Points spent in highlighted skills are doubled.

[ ] Dump all your points into one skill (Write in)
[ ] Split points between two skills, spending the odd point on the lower skill (Write in two)
[ ] Split points between three skills, spending the odd point on the lower skill (write in three)
[ ] Write in a custom distribution

 

As you assembled your thoughts, a clear plan of action came together in your mind. First and foremost, you scheduled a meeting with Nicole. She answered that she was already on her way, and a few minutes later she was announced by your secretary and admitted into your office.

“I’m glad to see that at least you’ve got your priorities straight, Overseer,” she said as she sauntered up to your desk. “Security’s on high alert, thanks to you. It’s been months since the vault’s been this agitated.”

You watch her expression carefully as she chides your actions. The woman gives no sign about her own opinion on the matter. So you ask. “Are you going to tell me not to go through with it?”

She sputtered and shook her head. “Hell no. The only thing worse than making a big, controversial change is making a big announcement that you’re going to do it, and then changing your mind. That,” she pointed at you. “Is how riots start. And riots are a horrible mess I don’t want to deal with. So let’s talk about how to manage this situation and avoid them.”

She tells you that she’s stepping up the level of security alert, and you spend about an hour going over what that means. She explains that she’ll be stationing a second vault security officer outside of your office as well, and that she’s getting someone to keep an eye on Nick as well, as you’re both the focus of the current ‘crisis’,

“So…” you shift topics a bit. “I also want to discuss arranging for some protection for Nick while he’s out there.”

Nichole nods. “That makes sense. I can see about issuing him a 10mm pistol and maybe scrounge up an old armored vault suit that fits him. And we can spare a bit of ammo to give him some range time.”

You nod. “That would be good. I’d also like to discuss possibly… a small security detail?”

Her expression darkens at that. “You… want me to ask one of my officers to… volunteer for early retirement?” She shook her head. “Respectfully, Overseer, I’m not going to do that. You can make your own appeal for volunteers if you want, but I’m not going to be a part of it. People take my requests as orders.”

You sigh. So much for that idea. “Maybe we could let them out and back in in shifts? Like, only Nick is really retired, and they’re just keeping an eye on him?”

She looks a bit shocked at this idea, her jaw hanging open for a moment. Then she shuts it with a sharp ‘click’. “This is the first time you’ve run a retirement, so it makes sense that you might not have realized,” she says, more to herself than you.

Putting out both hands vertically in the air, she waves them a little to draw your attention. “Ok, so imagine this hand,” she wiggles her left hand a little. “Is the inner vault door. And this hand,” she wiggles the other “is the outer vault door. This one,” she wiggles the hand representing the inner vault door,” we have control over. We can open and close it whenever we want. But this one,” she wiggled the other hand “From what we can tell, it only opens when there’s a pending retiree in between the doors.”

Shit. You turn to your terminal and quickly look through the records of the vault’s residents, finding the oldest one. Agatha Walsh.

She retires February 9th. In 40 days. If what Nichole says is true, Nick would be out there for more than a month before any backup could be sent. Before you could even find out what happened to him, or bring in any materials.

“Does it… have to be a retiree?” you asked.

Your security chief looks away at that, eyes searching the corners of her vision. “I… don’t know if anyone’s ever tried. I… guess we can open and close this side whenever we want, so we could give it a try. But I’m not volunteering.”

At that point, you wrap up your meeting. You’re left with something new to think about. The vault’s feelings about retirement haven’t shifted overnight, and so getting a security detail for Nick won’t be easy. But you feel like you’ve made progress.

It isn’t long before Doctor Sam Reynolds, the head of Health & Life Support, arrives in your office.

Sam always had the aura of a meticulous professional, even when he was just your upper-classman in school. You remember him actually teaching a few science classes for your cohort when the main science teacher was having a baby. It doesn’t surprise you at all to find his labcoat with barely a wrinkle as it hangs over his vault jumpsuit.

He takes a seat opposite you, and looks at you expectantly over steepled fingers. “I’ve submitted my report on the records for the cholera outbreak, Overseer,” he starts in without preamble. “It was an interesting little project. I was actually annoyed when my work on it was interrupted this morning by the need to respond to a patient with a broken nose from a fist fight.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, pointing a finger at you. “That was how I heard about what happened last night. You certainly are starting your career as Overseer off with a bang, aren’t you?”

You nod, sighing. You really hoped that it was just the initial shock of it people were responding to, and that they’d calm down after a while. “I suppose so. Honestly, Sam, I just couldn’t bring myself to just… kick Nick out of the vault without some kind of support. And while I’m interested in your report, that’s more what I called this meeting about. I wanted to talk about what we could do for Nick to help him survive out there.”

You caught a gleam in Sam’s eye, as his mind eagerly rose to the intellectual challenge of a new problem. It occurred to you that surprises were probably rare in vault health.

“We of course don’t have a great deal of direct information about the Annihilated World. Our historical records go on at some length about the war between America and Communist China, but are fairly vague about what happened, other than apparently atomic weapons were used in great numbers.”

You nod, familiar with the history but knowing better than to interrupt Sam when he got rolling.

These weapons, as I understand them, would break apart in their explosions, carrying the radioactive materials they were composed of across great distances.”

His fingers danced over his pip-boy as he pulled up notes. “My Medical references contain some information about radiation sickness. It can be caused by mere presence in the area of radioactive materials, though ingestion of such materials is significantly deadlier. Primary symptoms are muscle weakness, hair loss, the appearance of bruises or burns on the skin or internally, internal bleeding, fever, low blood pressure, weakened immune response leading to infections, and in extreme cases, widespread cell death.”

You wince. Was that the fate so many of your ancestors had walked into? Your parents…

Shaking your head to clear it, you latch back onto the conversation. “So what can we do to protect Nick from that radiation?”

Sam flicks through the controls to bring up another note. “A hazardous materials suit is recommended for protection in the presence of radiation. I don’t have one of those among my equipment, but perhaps Power Systems would. What I can prescribe is Rad-X to fortify the body against radiation, and RadAway to cleanse it from the system after exposure. I have a small supply of each, as there hasn’t been much call for it over the years, and we can produce more in our lab, though not quickly or in large amounts. I should probably add those to the rotation of medicines we routinely synthesize.”

“Could we increase the rate of medicine production?” you ask.

Sam nods. “I suppose we could step it up, if hydroponics somewhat redirected their stock, and we assigned a permanent lab assistant position. Between training and grow time, that would likely take at least a month to see results. Beyond that, we’d be talking about producing more lab equipment, which would require significant manufacturing resources, and assigning additional staff.” He looks up from his screen, a bit of remembered stress seeping into his features. “I’ve barely been able to keep our current equipment in stock, so I imagine that might be a tall order.”

“Let’s start with maximizing the equipment we have,” you agree.

A Spoonful of Sugar The vault currently produces one chem per week, in line with the shallow demand. You’ve elected to step up production to one chem per day, by diverting some Hydroponics production to chem production.

“So what can we spare for Nick?”

That sends Sam back to his Pip-boy, doubtlessly pulling up his inventory. “I insist on holding on to at least a few doses of radaway, in case of an unlikely emergency. I believe I can put together a bottle of a dozen Rad-X tablets, along with eight bags of RadAway. If Nick needs more than that before he can establish a secure shelter, I’m not sure this plan will be viable at all. I can also assemble a first aid kit for him and give him a crash course on its use, and include a handful of stimpacks for medical emergencies.”

He scrolled through his inventory list. “Perhaps a small bottle of buffout and a few med-X syringes as well, since Nick seems reasonable enough not to abuse either. Hmmm…” He nods. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but we also have a significant supply of water purification tablets. I believe my long-retired predecessor must have had them produced after the cholera crisis.”

“That sounds like it would be useful,” you say. It would be a lot easier to rely on Nick finding a source of water out there than to try to send him out with gallons and gallons of it strapped to his back.

You turn to your terminal, and pull up the report the doctor had filed on the outbreak. Glancing through it, you quickly pick out a highlight of his report. “Gunshot wounds?” you mutter halfway to yourself.

“Yes, I thought you might find that interesting,” he says, leaning back. “Nearly a dozen vault residents were treated for gunshot wounds, stab wounds, broken bones, and other such trauma. Clear evidence of a level of violence quite beyond my experience.” He closes his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it out. “You’ll note that I checked the reported deaths from that period as well. Nearly every single one was reported as death by cholera, with no hint of violence.”

He leans forward, looking you directly in the eyes. “I highly doubt that whatever incident resulted in so many injuries had a one hundred percent survival rate. I don’t know why, but I highly suspect my predecessor falsified her records to conceal evidence of this disturbance. But for that to be the case, that implies that there was a widespread effort to conceal this from the vault population at large. Otherwise what would the point of this deception be?” He waved his finger as he led you through this line of speculation.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Sam,” you explain, sinking in your chair a little. Sam was clever, and he was going to figure this out anyway, so you decided you may as well let him in on the secret. “I believe that the cholera outbreak, and the… fighting, were caused by a previous Overseer trying to keep a retired person inside the vault.”

Sam nods in comprehension. “I’d started to suspect something like that. I suppose that there was a disagreement about it, like the one that provoked a fistfight this morning, only moreso? Causing damage to the water purification system somehow?”

“It was worse than that,” you say, shaking your head gravely. “The vault is set up to start shutting down systems if a pending retirement isn’t processed within a week. I’m fairly certain the Cholera outbreak happened because the Water Purification system shut down.”

Sam grits his teeth. “I see. And can I then gather that this fact is why you are going forward with the compromise of attempting to give Nick support on the outside rather than attempting to keep him past his retirement?”

You nod. “There has to be more that we can do for people who retire. I understand all the arguments, about vault population and fresh ideas and so on, but we have to be able to do more for them than throw them out there, alone, to never hear from them again.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sam says, “And I’m excited to see where this goes. But we absolutely need to make sure we’re not putting the vault population at risk.”

Bringing that meeting to a close, you take a break for lunch before diving into the logs of the hydroponics and manufacturing departments.

The hydroponics logs, unsurprisingly, make no mention of Reefer production. You’ll need to talk to David more if you want to ferret out more information about that. But otherwise he’s done a decent enough job of keeping his records up to date, though not without some colorful commentary about what plants go into his favorite snack foods.

Hydroponics produces some fresh fruit and vegetables, but most of their stock is rendered down into base substances, which the vault’s kitchen systems can later render into various foodstuffs. Looking through the storage manifest, you quickly get an idea of what your food stockpile looks like.

Hydroponics production 1 unit of food = 1 month’s supply for the average vault dweller. 500 units of food produced per month. (475 after increased chem production.) 5 unit of chem stock produced per month. (Increasing to 30, diverting production from food) 12,640 units of food in stock. (2.28 years supply)

You notice that some of the food stockpile records list certain containers as mysteriously having been damaged and spoiled, with no commentary. It occurs to you that this is likely what David does when he trades some excess food for something. Given that there is still a significant stockpile, you don’t see much point in bringing this up.

You put in an order to prepare two month’s supply of dehydrated food for Nick. If he can find a source of water out there, between that and the water purification tablets he should be able to make do.

Then you turn to manufacturing, looking through Paula Reynolds’ notes. You pretty quickly start to get a picture of how the flow of materials moves through the vault, in a series of requisition orders being issued, fulfilled, delayed, or denied.

You aren’t surprised to find a number of delayed and denied production orders issued by Greg Bauman from Waste Management. Hydroponics, on the other hand, seems to get nearly everything they need. You have good reason to suspect why.

Manufacturing requests	requests	(last month)
Department	Issued	Fulfilled	Delayed	Denied
Maintenance	107	85	20	2
Water	24	21	3	0
Waste	168	52	18	98
Power	71	65	5	1
Security	36	33	3	0
Hydroponics	54	54	0	0
Distribution	135	108	17	10
Morale&Education	29	22	5	1
Health*LS	42	34	7	1

You quickly sort out how the requisition forms work, and put in a high priority requisition for a set of tools Nick could use to hopefully make some basic shelter for himself and start finding supplies to bring back to the vault. It’s going to cause someone’s requisition to be delayed, but given the circumstances you feel that this takes priority.

Finally, with all that out of the way, you turn to the messages sent in by the various vault citizens, and put your mind to making sure that this doesn’t turn into another civil war.

From: Stephen Abbott Subject: An end to dignity Whatever happened to the respect for our vault’s traditions? The latest generation of leadership has clearly sunk to an appalling low. When I was your age, young man, I understood that my work in this vault was built on over a century of perseverance, but apparently you’d rather throw all of that away! Nick Hesting deserved a dignified retirement, in due course, and his friends and family deserved the closure that offers. But instead you disrupted that solemn ceremony and plan to send that man out there with the promise that he will return. And not only that, but you’ve convinced him to spend whatever last moments will be left to him toiling uselessly, to ensure that when he succumbs, it won’t be with a sense of well-earned peace, but with regret.’

From: Tiffany Hall Subject: Glad someone did something I want to commend you for your courage, Overseer. I’ve been saying for years that this whole retirement business was a waste, and didn’t make sense, but no one would listen. But now that you’re doing something about it, they won’t have much choice but to pay attention, will they? Don’t let these idiots tell you what to do. If anything, you should take this further. Surely we could postpone retirements for another ten years or so, to keep people in the vault a bit longer? Surely we can go a few more years before we’re too much of a medical burden!’

From: Christine Marshalls Subject: Repair Priorities If Nick is going to be bringing in new materials, does that mean that we’ll finally have the resources to repair the old arcade terminals that have broken down? Only about half of them work, and they’ve been saying for years that we just can’t spare the parts, but I think it would win a lot of people over if you made that a priority with the new stuff.

They go on like that. Over twenty vault citizens saw fit to send you messages, with a couple more coming in as you read through them. You reply to a few of them directly, when you think you’ve got something to say that might make a difference, and then you put together an open message, intended to show up on every vault citizen’s pip-boy.

From: The Overseer Subject: Preparing for the future. My fellow citizens of Vault 18, I have read and heard of your many opinions about my recent actions regarding our old friend Nick Hesting. I first want to set the record straight, as there are a great many rumors being spread that must cease immediately. Nick Hesting was prepared to retire the day after his 45th birthday, last night at midnight, as has always previously been done. However, in light of the ongoing resource crisis I have temporarily delayed Nick’s retirement, and asked him to volunteer for a special project. We will provide him with additional food and supplies, and in exchange he will bring whatever materials he can find beyond the vault door back inside once the next retirement is processed. Proceeding retirees will be asked to assist Nick in this effort going forward, but this will remain a voluntary action on their part. I understand that many of you have concerns with this state of affairs. You must understand that my chief concern as your overseer is the continued survival and prosperity of our vault. If preserving vault 18 means that retirement must end, then I will end it. If it means that retirement must continue, I will continue it. This is my duty as Overseer, whatever my personal opinion might be, and I will see it out to the end of my term.

There. They just might buy that. You suppose you’ll find out tomorrow. With all that out of the way, you slink off to bed.

---

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night. You wake several times to dreams of vault dwellers, people you know, yelling at you as the vault fills with wastewater around them. When you finally get up, get your coffee, and make it back to your terminal, you do your best to reassemble yourself for another challenging day.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only Date: January 1st, 2250 Population: 426 Retirements Pending: 1 (!!!) Alert! Priority Message!

Priority message? What could that be? You quickly open it to find out.

CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL OVERSEER EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01011 Greetings from the past, Overseer! Assuming that you’re still alive, and that your vault has not descended into complete illiterate barbarism, congratulations from Vault-Tec! Your efforts, and those of your descendants, has likely been invaluable in our efforts to understand the variables of the equation of human society. Having survived to the pre-determined year of 2250, your vault will now enter phase two of social experimentation! Vault 18’s outer vault door has reopened permanently, and cannot be re-sealed. All other directives regarding age of vault leaders and retirement at 45 remain, and will be enforced by the vault’s systems. Vault citizens under age 45 will now be free to leave and re-enter the vault, at your discretion. However, any vault citizen above age 45 returning, or any human being lacking a Vault-18 registered Pip-Boy remaining in the vault for longer than a week, will trigger the automated shutdown response. At this late stage of the experiment, we cannot guarantee that the vaults systems will be able to successfully re-initialize after shutdown. Our descendants are assuredly excited to find out how your society will react to these changes!

You take a moment to really absorb that, and slowly manage to close your jaw again. This changes… well, what does it change? It makes your immediate plan with Nick more viable. It looks like Vault-Tec left it in your hands how to explain this to the vault, but of course it will be obvious that the outer door is open as soon as the next retirement is processed.

You look down at your terminal and think about how to respond to this change in circumstances.

[ ] Call a meeting of all department heads. (Takes 2 actions).
[ ] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. (write in which)
[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which)
[ ] Walk around, try to get the sense of the vault community.
[ ] Write in a suggestion.

 

The first thing you do is schedule an all-department meeting. Normally there’d be some grumbling about how recently the last one was, but given the circumstances everyone was kind of expecting it.

It doesn’t take long before you’ve got everyone assembled around your desk. Once they’ve all sat down and the side-conversations have mostly peetered out, you start things off by sending a copy of the highlights of the message you’d received to all their pip-boys.

A moment of silence ensues, during which you do your best to read each of them as they digest the update from Vault-Tec.

“As you can see,” you regain their attention. “Life after the vault is about to change. This means that if someone goes out with Nick to keep him safe and help him set things up for himself, they’ll be able to come back. And then we could send other people out to keep things going. And it means we can find out what’s going on out there a lot sooner than waiting for Nick to pass something through the vault door when it opens.”

“And we won’t have to wait as long for new resources,” Paula cut in, having gained a laser focus from what she’d read.

“There might be other people out there, too,” David mused, staring up at the ceiling. “Like… there were tons of other vaults, weren’t there? At least 17 others, I guess. What if they’re all opening up right now? There’d be… thousands of new people to meet and trade with.”

You’re pretty sure David is a bit high, but he makes a good point. “That would make sense. Though that also means we’ll have to step up security of the vault entrance. And we need to know more about what’s going on out there.” You look at Nichole.

Your head of Security already looks tired. “You’d better get the vault to quit squabbling, then. My people are already feeling spread thin with the current situation.”

“That sounds like a job for Education and Morale,” you say, turning your attention to Dwight. “Maybe show some of the old vids that talk about the world before, and talk about how we can find out what happened to it? And… can we make new pictures or vids?”

Dwight considered this, scratching at his beard. “I’ve got a couple of cameras that still work, but the last vid tapes were filled up like a century ago if I recall correctly. We’ve still got some photo film and a working dark room, so I could put together a decent slideshow.”

You nod, ideas stirring in your head. “Nick is going out tomorrow. I want you to talk up the event. I want everyone who cares about this to be there. It’s going to be a community experience.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not sure all those people will fit in the entry room. We’re talking at least a hundred people here. I couldn’t fit them all in the vault theater at the same time.”

“What about the Atrium?” you ask, turning to look out the big circular window at the central open area of the vault outside of your office. “Could we… wire one of the security cameras in the entrance to a projector, and put it up on one of the big walls?”

Dwight sighs, looking at Nicole. “It’s not impossible, necessarily.”

Nichole rolls her eyes and nods. “I’ll talk to my security nerd about it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now,” you turn to Paula. “Can you have the equipment I requisitioned for Nick ready by tomorrow?”

She nods, tapping out a quick message on her Pip-boy. “I’ve just moved it to the top of the cue.”

“Aren’t we forgetting about something, in all this excitement?” Greg brought up, flashing you a betrayed look. “Are we ever going to do something about our black water system? Or is the newer, sexier problem going to pull everyone’s attention away, like usual?” He huffed, glaring across the table at everyone else.

“I haven’t forgotten, Greg,” you answer, looking directly at him. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I’m doing this. If we can get more materials back into the vault, that means we’ll have more manufacturing capacity and can get you the parts you need.”

That seemed to calm the man down. The rest of the meeting goes quickly, as there isn’t much new to report outside of the situation with Nick. You talk a bit further about how to get Nick the food supplies he needs, and get Paula to discuss a system for bringing in and incorporating whatever can be found up above.

Finally, you adjourn the meeting early. “Except for Sam and Fred. I’ve got a bit more to talk about with each of you.”

Your office clears, leaving just the heads of Water Purification and Health and Life Support behind, the two looking at each other uncertainly, until Sam breaks the silence. “So… what can we do for you, Overseer?”

“Well, Sam, I wanted to talk to you about ramping up chem production further than what we discussed last night,” you explain. “We’re likely going to need a lot of Rad-X and Radaway if more people are going to leave the vault in the near future.”

“That’s going to take materials and personnel,” he explains wearily. Glancing over to Fred, he hooks a thumb at his fellow department head. “Mr. Hatch could probably spare a few people from his department, but right now we’d be able to benefit from one more lab assistant at most, to keep the lab cooking around the clock until we can build another one.”

Fred sputters, looking offended. “What makes you think I have people to spare?” he asks, glaring at the doctor.

Doctor Reynolds rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows that water purification is the cushiest job in the vault. There’s no point in pretending otherwise, Fred.”

You look over Fred’s expression as he sulks. That isn’t the look of someone who wasn’t at least aware of this perception. You rub the bridge of your nose. “Alright, Fred, for now go ahead and let Sam poach someone as a lab assistant. And later, we’ll need to talk about this.” You give him a severe look.

“Fine…” he mutters.

“Also,” you say, brightening a little. “I believe I have a project to keep your people a little more busy. I want you to look into supplying clean water to the outside of the vault.”

Fred blinks, a bit taken aback. “I can’t really run plumbing through the vault door. Maybe we could drill through the rock next to it?” he suggests, but then immediately counters “but wouldn’t that make the vault less safe?”

“Perhaps you could install a cistern on the other side, which we could refill manually when we opened the door,” Dr. Reynold’s suggests. “It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would give anyone outside the vault a supply of clean water as long as we kept it topped off.”

“Yeah,” Fred agrees, nodding. “I guess that would work…”

“Then get on it,” you order, smirking. Sometimes problems seemed to line up and fix themselves.

The two of them descend into bickering about personnel, which you cut short by telling Fred to get it sorted out by the end of the day or you’ll pick someone to transfer. Then you conclude the meeting, leaning back in your chair as they leave your office.

The new year is really turning things to your favor. Things are looking up.

“Are you ready for dinner, Overseer?” your intercom asks.

You press the button to respond to your receptionist/security guard. “You know what? I’m going to the cafeteria today for dinner,” you say, already getting up for a stretch.

“Um… you sure about that, sir?” he asks a bit nervously. “Things have been a bit tense recently.”

“Exactly why I need to show that I’m not afraid, and that I’m accessible to the people,” you reply, walking over to the big window to look out on the vault, smiling as you watch people walk through the atrium. Then you head to the door and open it, just as Hyland was getting up from his chair. “Come on,” you tell him with a wave.

He files in behind you as you make your way confidently out into the Atrium. As you pass out into the main public area, you glance back up at your office, at the circular window that looks down on the vault as the ever-present symbol of the Overseer. Above it, the engraved sign stands between the sides of the vaulted ceiling, proclaiming, as it has for over a century, ‘The Young Will Lead The Way’.

You’ve looked up at that window your whole life, even before it was known that you would one day sit behind that round glass, at the big half-circle desk. Now it’s been your reality for a week, and you keep having these moments when you just… realize that again.

You wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling like an imposter behind that desk.

Shaking your head, you continue on to the cafeteria.

Inside, you find a string of letters hanging from the ceiling, proclaiming ‘Happy New Year!’ The booths are mostly full of vault dwellers, enjoying dinner and socialization. More than one of them turn to see you, and more than one conversation stops when they do.

Endeavoring to ignore them, you walk up to the line with everyone else.

A young man with a thin film of closely-trimmed hair tries to step out of line. “Oh, Overseer, uh… go ahead.”

“No, no,” You shake your head and wave for him to get back in line. After a moment’s hesitation, he does.

You make your way fairly quickly through the line, looking back into the kitchen as a couple of vault dwellers work at keeping the trays of food flowing to the food dispensors. It’s pasta night, so you ladle up a bowl of freshly-boiled noodles and get to choose between spaghetti and alfredo, along with a piece of toasted bread, and a salad on the side.

Officer Hyland behind you goes for Spaghetti, while you take the alfredo. Then, scanning around the tables and booths of the cafeteria, you spot a pair of older women who seem to be keeping an eye on you, the first signs of wrinkles marking out that they couldn’t have long to wait until retirement.

With a bright smile, you make your way over to them. “Are these seats reserved for anyone, ladies?” you ask, gesturing to the booth opposite them.

They share a nervous giggle, and one of them shakes her head, gesturing at the booth. “Go ahead, Overseer,” she says. Her blonde hair is done up in a bun behind her head, while her friend’s dark hair hangs past her shoulders.

You take your seat, as does your bodyguard. You stir your fork through your pasta with one hand and gesture to the blonde with the other. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you start off.

The blonde introduces herself as Amy Carter, and her friend as Janessa Hopkins. Apparently they both work in Morale and Education; Amy maintains the vault’s thin supply of printed materials, and Janessa edits the daily newsletter of notable events.

“Things are usually pretty quiet, honestly.” Janessa says. “It’s not always easy to find something to write about. But there’s been a lot more to keep track of since you took over.”

“Like that letter you sent everyone?” says Amy. “Did you really mean that you might put… an end to retirement?” She looks at you searchingly.

“If that’s what’s best for the vault, yes,” you reply, lifting your first bite of food up. “That’s not what we’re doing right now, though.”

The two of them share a look as you chew. Then Janessa speaks up. “You’re putting the retirees to work, is what they’re saying. A lot of us don’t like the idea of that, you know.”

You give her a searching look. “Tell me, what do you think Retirement has been like for everyone who went out before?”

“I um…” she hesitated. “I suppose I always imagined it like… like those pictures of the world before, the green floors and the blue ceiling up above. And all the retired people meet up, and you get to fill them in on what’s been going on in the vault.”

You nod along. That seemed like a happy little image. You even liked imagining it, imagining that you might meet your parents out there some day. Letting out a breath through your nostrils, you slowly shake your head.

“The truth is that we have no idea. No one’s ever come back before. But maybe Nick can. He can go out there and come back and leave us a message telling us what it’s like.”

You smile. “Who knows. Maybe he’ll meet up with the others and we can exchange letters.”

The rest of dinner passes with more casual conversation, the topic clearly having made the two of them a bit uncomfortable. You head back to your office, feeling like you’ve made a good impression and sent the right message resonating through the vault.

When it’s time for bed, you can barely sleep, and spend more than an hour pacing in your office and thinking. Finally, though, you do manage to drag yourself to bed and pass out for a night cycle.

The next day you roll out of bed onto your feet, the nervous energy and anticipation driving you forward. Today is the big day. Tonight at midnight, Nick Hesting will retire and leave the vault. You’ve taken care of most of the details, but now that the final hour looms, you sit in front of your terminal and try to think of what last minute preparations you can make.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only Date: January 2nd, 2250 Population: 426 Retirements Pending: 1 (!!!)

You take a moment to try to organize your day. There are a number of things you want to get to today, so prioritizing won’t be easy.

(One auto selected, choose 4.)
[ ] Call a private meeting with one of the department heads. (write in which)
[ ] Read through the backlog of reports from one department. (write in which)
[ ] Have a final meeting with Nick Hesting
[ ] Go over the equipment Nick will be sent out with.
[ ] Talk one of the security officers into volunteering to go out with Nick.
[ ] Write in a suggestion.
[X] Attend Nick’s retirement (auto selected)

 

The first thing you need to do, you decide, is take an inventory of the vault’s defenses. With the outer vault door left open, your home is potentially vulnerable. You have no idea what dangers lurk out there, but your small security force and their equipment is all that stands between you and it.

You spend some time looking through the personnel files of the security officers. There are 23 of them in total, including Chief Totra. Pulling up their inventory, you see that the vault has managed to keep just 27 10mm pistols in good working order, a supply that’s been dwindling over the last few years. You see that they also have only three hundred rounds in reserve.

Totra also keeps a pair of 10mm submachine guns and a set of six double-barrel shotguns locked up in the armory attached to her office. On top of that, your terminal reports a dozen remote machine-gun turrets, retracted and waiting to be deployed, with four of them in the entrance chamber, and, apparently, two built into your desk.

That’s a sobering thought. You can’t help but deploy them, and as your desk rises up off of the floor and a pair of miniguns sprout from the sides and begin to spool up, you desperately type away at your terminal to input the stop command, making your new battlestation jerk to a halt and then slowly sink back into the floor, all sign of its lethal ordinance tucking itself neatly away.

Wow… you wonder what Vault-Tec had in mind when they installed that?

Feeling a bit safer with the automated turrets protecting the vault, you take a few more moments to look through the rest of Security’s files. There really weren’t too many security problems, and it seemed like most of what Nicole did was keep her force from getting too bored.

Once again, there was only one guy in the holding cells… the same guy, apparently. Looking back through the logs, you don’t see proper arrest records or anything for him. You might need to ask Nicole about that later.

Moving on, you pull up the records for Medical, specifically the plans for ramping up chem production, and do your best to understand them. An hour later, you groan and hold your head. Plants come in and chems come out, but your efforts to understand the process just hit a brick wall. It’s like they’re writing in a different language, practically.

“Sir,” the intercom interrupts you. “Nick Hesting is here to see you.” You rub your eys and shake your head to clear it, then respond. “Please send him in.”

The door opens, and with timid uncertainty, Nick pokes his spectacled head in. “You… wanted to see me, Overseer?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer casually, standing up and waving him in. “Take a seat, Nick. It’s good to see you.”

“Oh, alright,” he says, walking forward and awkwardly pulling the chair aside to slip into it. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, first I wanted to apologize for springing all this on you the other night,” you say with a bit of a sigh. “The way some see it, I ruined your retirement. I imagine it came as a bit of a shock.”

“You’re right about that,” he answered, shaking his head. “I definitely didn’t think you’d go off script like that.”

“So now that you’re not in front of everyone, I wanted to make sure you were really on board with this. Once you’re past that vault door, there’s nothing I can do to force you to bring anything back, other than try to make it worth your while.”

That idea washes over Nick, and he seems to consider it deeply. Then he nods. “I’ll be honest, I don’t exactly feel ready to be done, to just walk off into the light like everyone talks about happening. If there’s anything I can do to still help, I want to do it.”

You grin. You couldn’t have picked a better person to go out on a limb for. “I’m really glad to hear that. We’ll get some kind of communication set up too, even if it’s just throwing messages in a bottle back and forth. I’m sure Allison will still need to ask you for advice from time to time.”

Nick sighed. “Honestly having me out of her hair might be good for the girl. She’s got a skill for second-guessing herself, and it just might force her to trust her instincts.”

“I hope so,” you agree.

An awkward silence settles over the meeting, then you quickly think of something to fill it. Opening a drawer from a filing cabinet behind you, you retrieve the tray of reefer brownies and set it on your desk.

Nick’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’ve just set in front of him.

“Dave gave me these when I started as the new overseer, but I think you’ve done more to earn them. Though…” You pry up two of the flaky chocolate confections and offer him one. “I think I’d like to share one with a hero of the vault.”

“Well,” he says, your grin contagious. “I don’t suppose I can say no to the Overseer…”

You each eat your brownie, and then you pull up the list of equipment you’d had manufacturing make for him and go over it together. You aren’t really sure when the reefer started kicking in, but it was probably why you both found the idea of the entrenching tool hilarious.

“Can you dig it?” Nick managed to ask, barely managing to get the words out before cracking up again.

“I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me!” you answer, slapping your hand on your desk as you just disintegrate into chuckles.

A couple of hours pass, and by the time you start to sober up again a sense of embarrassment sets in. Nick smiles awkwardly, takes the remaining tray of brownies, and takes his leave.

With that done, you try to figure out what to do next, and somehow end up pulling up the library of Vault-Tec educational videos your terminal had installed, and spend a few more hours giggling uncontrollably at the antics of Vault Boy as he demonstrated various aspects of vault life.

You wake up from a dreamless sleep to the raised voice of Officer Hyland over the intercom. “Overseer, are you there?” he asked, practically shouting.

Snapping back to focus, you press the button on the comm. “Yes, I’m here. Sorry about… that.”

“OK sir.” You can hear the relief in his tone. You wonder how long he’d been trying to get your attention. “I was just reminding you that Nick Hesting’s retirement ceremony starts in half an hour.”

“Thank you,” you answer, doing your best to seem totally prepared for this as you get up out of your chair. “I’ll see to the last minute preparations.”

---

You’re name is Nick Hesting, and you’re three days past Retirement.

Up until three days ago, your life had followed the typical course; graduating to lead the Maintenance department for ten years before stepping down through the ranks, and taking pride at every stop along the way that you’d been instrumental in keeping your vault running, if not smoothly, at least comfortably enough.

Things got a little rough as the years went on, Too many of the original parts had broken down, and needed rebuilds with what was available, or workarounds, or all-too-often jury-rigged solutions meant to hold things together for a month or two and which ended up staying in place for years. And of course, when those started breaking down that only increased the workload.

And then there was Allison. She was a good kid, and she knew Vault-tec systems front and back. That was the problem, though; she’d spent too much time reading the old manuals, and not enough trying to re-engineer moving parts to work without essential components no one made anymore. She was learning more about how the vault really worked every day, but it took a strain on her, and she’d been leaning on you pretty heavily to fill in the gaps in her education.

But now you weren’t going to be there for her. You should already be out the vault door, and every day you lingered felt like stolen time.

You made efficient use of that time, while you had it. On top of giving Allison a few final tips and promising to reply to messages if you got the chance, you focused on learning what you might need to survive outside. You’d never really thought about what life would be like after retirement before, but the new Overseer sure made it sound difficult and dangerous.

You’re already a master at Repair, but what other two skills have you recently focused on?

Choose Two tagged skills
[ ] Small Guns
[ ] Big Guns
[ ] Energy Weapons
[ ] Unarmed
[ ] Melee Weapons
[ ] Throwing
[ ] First Aid
[ ] Doctor
[ ] Sneak
[ ] Lockpick
[ ] Steal
[ ] Traps
[ ] Science
[ ] Barter
[ ] Speech
[ ] Gambling
[ ] Outdoorsman

Choose 2 Traits:

[ ] Bloody Mess
[ ] Bruiser
[ ] Chem Reliant
[ ] Chem Resistant
[ ] Fast Metabolism
[ ] Fast Shot
[ ] Finesse
[ ] Gifted
[ ] Good Natured
[ ] Heavy Handed
[ ] Jinxed
[ ] Kamikaze
[ ] One Hander
[ ] Sex Appeal
[ ] Skilled
[ ] Small Frame

And choose 1 perk!
[ ] Comprehension
[ ] Awareness
[ ] Quick Pockets
[ ] Swift Learner
[ ] Strong Back
[ ] Survivalist
[ ] Night Vision
[ ] Scout
[ ] Presence
[ ] Toughness
[ ] Smooth Talker
[ ] Faster Healing
[ ] Thief
[ ] Bonus HtH Damage

 

Nick Hesting, The Retiree.

Back when you were the head of Maintenance, you relied on your ability to get along with everyone to get by. You made a point of always being polite, and of keeping first aid supplies on hand for whenever someone inevitably cut themselves on a piece of machinery they were repairing.

You also developed a decent understanding of the principles underlying the machines. Physics, chemistry, that sort of thing. You’ve never really focused on it though, as most of your time was taken up by just keeping the vault running day by day.

The last three days, you’ve spent nearly every waking hour studying whatever survival manuals you could get from Morale & Education. The pictures in the books seemed almost alien to you at first, but you quickly developed a basic understanding of how the surface world worked.

You’ve also spent some time thinking about how to move quietly, without being seen or heard. It occurs to you that seeing danger before it sees you might be the difference between living and dying out there.

Time just seems to slip by until you find yourself in the entrance chamber once again, waiting to meet your postponed date for retirement. You still feel a little floaty from your meeting with the overseer, the baked reefer digesting in your gut still releasing a steady stream of good feelings into your body. It makes it a lot easier to face the vault door again, after being saved from it the first time.

You turn to see that the crowd this time is bigger than the one that showed up for your retirement. That was just the people who cared about you, personally. Now your retirement was a big deal for the entire vault. Some were excited to see what would happen, while others, like Mr Baxter you see glaring at you from the back, are here to witness what they think of as a sin against tradition. Just yesterday, Baxter had cornered you to try to brow-beat you into giving up on ‘this whole scavenging nonsense’ as he put it.

Oh well. If he wanted to stop you, he could go out there after you. But you were pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen for a few years yet.

Paula, the head of manufacturing, emerges from the crowd and personally hands you a canvas vault bag. In it, she explains, are the entrenching tool you’d just finished laughing about, a significant supply of dried food, a small iron pot, and a full canteen.

Then Nicole, the security chief, walks up. She helps you get strapped into a holster, which carries a 10 mm pistol and a combat knife. “I can’t keep you safe out there, Nick,” she says. “You’ll have to do that yourself.”

You give the gun at your side a skeptical look. You’d never carried a weapon before in your life, and didn’t like the idea of what you might have to use it for. The unfamiliar weight of the thing hangs off of you uncomfortably, despite being no heavier than the various tools you keep in the belt across your waist.

Next is Dr. Reynolds. You know him well enough, the occasional workplace injury having sent you to Medical more than a few times. He offered you the same encouraging smile that he usually did when he was about to inject you with something or start stitching up a deep cut, and held out a first aid kit. Opening it, he revealed a set of four red syringes strapped to the lid, a large stack of plastic bags of orange goo, and a small bottle of pills, along with a small supply of bandages, gauze, and a bottle of antiseptic.

“You’ve used these before, Nick,” He said, tapping the top of the lid. “Stimpacks, quick acting trauma-restorative serum. Reserve them for significant injuries in emergency situations.”

Then he shook the pill bottle a little, demonstrating that a few pills rattled around inside. “These are Rad-X. If you notice your pip-boy clicking, consider taking one to reduce your body’s absorption of radiation. Now if you do take on some radiation and start to feel sick, that’s what these are for.” He tapped the stack of orange packets. “Radaway. If you begin to feel strange fatigue, and especially nausea, you should use one of these. Just plug it into your pip-boy’s IV slot, and your implant should pump it through your body and flush out the radiation over the next few hours.” He glanced around at the gathered vault population, then decided to press on anyway. “It’s also a potent diuretic, so be prepared to… ah, empty your bladder fairly soon afterwards.”

With that he closed the kit and helped you strap it into place. “Good luck out there,” he whispered as he got you situated, and then turned away.

The last to approach was Allison. You already had your tools, so you wonder what she might have for you.

Launching forward, she wraps you in a tight hug, burying her face in your chest. Surprised, you do your best to return the hug.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, pulling in a shaky breath. She pulls back to look you in the eyes. “You stay safe out there, OK Nick? If the second vault door’s really open, I want to see you again.

“I’ll do the best I can,” you offer. You know better than to make any promises when you have no idea what you’ll be walking into. “Just like I know you’ll do with keeping this place running, chief.”

That provokes some fresh tears, which she tries to hide as she steps back. The other department heads usher her into line as they pull back too, leaving the overseer standing in the middle the small room.

The kid just started the job, and already he’s changed your life and made history. You’re still not sure how you feel about that, but you guess you’ll have a better handle on it by tomorrow.

“Let me just say how proud I am to have inherited a vault that produced a man like Nick Hesting,” he says. You can feel your cheeks burning.

“Nick, three days ago I asked you to go out into the world that awaits us all, and bring back whatever resources you can to help keep this vault going. Are you still willing to undertake that mission, and aid the vault beyond your retirement?”

You nod. “I am, Overseer.” As if you could say anything else with everyone watching you like this.

“Then I think I’ve delayed long enough,” he says, and signals to the woman behind the controls. She had a cord from her Pip-boy plugged into the console, and at his signal she pressed the big button.

You turned to watch as the giant vault door scraped its way out of the entranceway, making you cringe at the sound of metal screeching, until finally it hung free of the threshold and rolled to the side.

Beyond, flickering lights illuminate a small metal chamber. At the far end, you can see the second vault door, standing to the side where it too had been rolled out of the way, leaving the open entryway. Beyond that, you saw bare stone walls and a smoothed floor, leading out into the blackness.

With everyone you know watching you, there’s only one thing to do. The first step takes an act of willpower, but once you start moving you’re like a ball bearing rolling down a ramp. As you cross that second, gear-shaped threshold, you reach the limits of the dim light from the small retirement airlock chamber, and you have to turn on your pip-boy’s flashlight as you venture out into the darkness beyond.

As you look at it, your screen is briefly taken up by a quest notification.

Quest Completed! Leave the vault.

You shake your head with a chuckle, and continue on your way. You don’t look back until you hear the vault door start up again, and you turn to see everyone you ever cared about waving at you, right until the giant slab of steel rolls into place, blotting them from view. A few seconds later, and the vault door has slid the rest of the way back into its frame, leaving you on the outside, completely alone.

Turning around, you trip over something and stumble, managing to catch yourself. Bringing your flashlight down to focus on it, you catch a flash of blue and gold. A tattered vault suit, with bones protruding from the sleeves and a broken skull grinning up at you between them. The 18 emblazoned on the blue jumpsuit leaves no question. You’re looking at the corpse of a prior retiree, one who didn’t make it very far at all.

A chirping sound rings behind you, and you turn to point your light at it, only to see a fat brownish-red insect body scuttle out of the way on a set of stiff, hairy legs, only instead of being small enough to catch in a bottle of Nuka-Cola like most insects, this thing was the size of your head.

As you follow what you realize is a giant roach with your flashlight, you hear another chirp to your left. You bring your flashlight around just in time to see another giant roach in flight, headed right for your head, with a horrifying spikey tube protruding from its maw.

You duck desperately under it, bringing up an arm to protect your face. The giant roach impacts your arm with a thud, and goes spinning through the air to land behind you.

Another chirp sounds in the darkness, and then another.

What do you do?

[ ] Draw your 10mm pistol and shoot them (Small Guns) (Under 0% chance of success)
[ ] Draw your knife and fight them off (Melee Weapons)
[ ] Turn and run blindly through the cave, trying to find an exit. (Outdoorsman)
[ ] Turn off your Pip-boy light and try to quickly slip away. (Sneak)
[ ] Try to think of some way to drive back the bugs (Science)