The Big 45
[june 19th 2083]
[location: laramie peak, wyoming]
[Overseer: Jessie Miller, 24 years old}
If Vault-Tec is still up and running they're gonna be madder than hell at me for starting this Log six years late. But does anyone even read these? Who knows? Anyways we’ve got a nice Vault goin up here in the rockies. 25 residents, some here before the war… some after. We’ve even managed to deliver a few baby dwellers! Ain't that cute? However they got a bit older and grown a few feet over the years. I've lost track of family trees even though i take use of the M.S.S. a.k.a. the Microphone Surveillance System. Not a standard for all vaults, just this one. They've got some strict check up rules too. Gotta have one of our electricians go through every morning at 7:00 am to restart each individual microphone unit. And there's quite the few... i had to do it myself before I had the electricians trained. Let me tell ya It's pretty damn dreadful that early in the morning.
When Vault-tec hired me they actually told me to do the opposite. “There is no true privacy in a vault when youre the one running it.” is something they told me about a month before the nukes struck america. I was eighteen when they stripped me of my graduation gown and replaced it with a blue and gold vault suit. Being the leader of an enclosed society at eighteen wasn't something I expected… in fact it was a surprise in many different ways. A vertibird landed in the parking lot of wheatland high when two men in T-60 power armor jumped from the copter, making the ground shake from the impact. But I had no idea they were there for me.
Figured it was just another one of their little performances. Until the men clad in steel approached me and asked me for my Drivers license and draft card. “Board the vertibird when you're ready, there's someone very important gave us orders to retrieve you.” said the soldier after giving me back my papers. If only i knew what they wanted me for at the time. They flew all the way across the plains going west, we eventually reached the secluded vault entrance and landed the vertibird. right after I hopped off i saw both men in power armor looking down at me, holding a thumbs up as they flew off with the vertibird.
As I stood there gazing at the vaut 45 door, it began to slide inwards before coming to a halt and rolling off to the left disappearing from sight. A long metal walkway stretches out of the hole in the wall, a tall man in a pineapple colored suit and fedora steps out of the vaults entrance. He welcomes me with a smirk stretched from ear to ear. Stanislaus Braun, the director of Vault-tecs Societal Preservation Program. My excitement overtook the impending question of “why the hell am I really here?”.
After formally meeting he brought me inside and gave me a tour of the entire vault. It seemed so impressive back then. We eventually made our way to the overseers office where he made a proposition of a literal lifetime. “We’ve been keeping track of your... progress since you began high school.” He says tapping his fingers together. “you've exceeded all of our expectations and you are the only candidate in the state worthy enough for the overseer role in Vault 45. You'll go down in history.”.
His offer was overwhelming, exciting even. Of course, I signed the paper he bestowed in front of me. Months of preparing followed, I was then prepared for life in the vault for the next 25 years. It was all pretty simple. It was a very bittersweet feeling when I had to choose only 22 people out of thousands that applied for entry. I tried my best to convince Braun to allow me to let more people in but in every attempt he refused.
Around the beginning of October Braun suddenly disappeared without a trace. I asked around and contacted all vault-tec personnel that knew Braun however no one said a thing. So either no one fuckin’ knew or they just kept his whereabouts confidential.
The days following Braun's disappearance I could feel the bombs coming. The wind blew over 130 miles an hour for an entire week, I've never seen a higher report of blown over semis on the highway in my life. On the morning of October 23rd a vault-tec bus came rolling up the mountain carrying all 22 of my future dwellers.
I could see the missiles falling to the earth while the bus came to a screeching halt. The terrified passengers came pouring out of the bus screaming. Their screams were no match for how loud the first detonation was. I rushed them into the vault with my heart in my stomach, sure everyone was scared but in all reality death sounded more comforting than being sealed away with 22 strangers for the next six years. As the last few entered the vault I stood outside watching the mushroom cloud grow up past the clouds. I could hear my dwellers calling my name, everything sounded so muffled… but I just stood there locked on the last bit id see of the outside world. I then slowly turn away and begin walking towards the vault entrance hanging my head with tears running down my face. Memories of family and friends filled my head as I walked across the steel catwalk. When I made my way to the control panel I could feel something change within me, a sense of empathy escaped my body It must've slipped through the crack in the door right before it shut. Maybe it escaped with the remaining radiation. At that point in time I felt so empty that I almost didn't start the lockdown sequence. I looked over to the terrified and sad group of people in front of me and silently waved for everyone to follow me. Then I presented everyone to their living quarters. I put folded vault suits on each of their beds as well.
There was a long moment of silence in the big 45 for a good week, I would've let them mourn for longer but we needed to get working. Everyone doubted my “Charisma” at first, but slowly they began to trust my leadership ability. Now there's not a living being that's not mutated or a protectron, or so it seems from the distress signals I catch once in a while on my pip boy 2000. They're usually just ghouls melting away, trying their best to hold consciousness. Must be sad to lose all your memories. This might sound a bit contradictory but i’d never let a single one of them inside The Big 45. Things give me the creeps. Hearing those distress signals got me thinking though.. Maybe we should start up our own Vault radio… Big 45 Radio… i can see it now. Somewhere out in the wastes there's a radio station still up and running. There's no host, just a constant reel of music and old pre-war Nuka-cola advertisements. I still wonder to this day how its still powered but I'm not complaining… I ain't misbehavin’ either.
More Coming soon...