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Vault 228, British Columbia, near the ruins of the city of Vancouver...

The air was still and eerily silent as Veronica made her rounds through the halls of the maintenance department. It was late at night -as least what counted for night here in the Vault, and all of the technicians and crews had already gone to bed, leaving just her alone in the dimly lit corridor, the light steps of her boots the only audible sound besides the hum of the lights that beamed down from the ceiling, with not a soul to be found -which although was as it was supposed to be, never failed to send shivers up her back whenever there was an unexpected creak or groan from the walls.

She wasn't supposed to be on patrol alone that night, but her partner had called in sick and there had been no one else to replace her -although she knew better. Her partner, Jane, was never fond of being given her position in Security, despite her G.O.A.T exam having directed her to the role. On most nights, she and Veronica would merely be chatting, but on other nights Jane wouldn't show up to work at all, leaving only the orange-furred vixen to handle their rounds, since nobody else liked coming down to this level.

The sound of a transformer from the electric room crackling nearly made her jump out of her vault suit in fright. The Vixen let out an audible groan as she forced herself to calm down, rubbing her brow a bit before she carried on with her rounds. "Fucking rotting pile of scrap is what this place is becoming..." She muttered under her breath as she turned a corner. "We better be allowed out of here soon, cause I am not waiting for this place to come crashing down over me..."

Annoyances like the crackling transformer were why no one liked to patrol this level -herself included- with the machinery constantly making noise throughout the night -noise that was sometimes accompanied by failures and maintenance reports nobody wanted to do. However much no one wanted to admit it, Vault 228 was practically being held together with chewing gum at this point; the maintenance crews could only recycle metals to patch up and weld the machinery that gave life to the vault so many times before they would eventually just give in to age, and permanently collapse. Vault-Tec knew how to make their stuff, without a doubt -technology that remained operable for decades on end, but even their astounding engineering would give in to time.

For years, the current Overseer, and those before him, had constantly claimed the surface was not yet safe to travel to, though Veronica had heard rumors that the story seemed to change with each generation. One would say it was the radiation levels, another that there was a nuclear winter. One had even gone so far as to say another war had been started -it was said that one had sparked the most suspicion of all, and as a result he had not remained Overseer for very long. His new successor was going to the old story of it being nuclear winter. By that point most were just tired of the excuses, and some had tried to leave, but Security had locked down access to the Vault door. This had been before Veronica's time, but the lockdown had yet to be lifted, and tensions from the vault dwellers had never been higher.

In her time on Vault Security, Veronica had lived through a few incidents -most petty squabbles from unruly citizens, but on her second year on the job, there had been a violent riot from the C-Block residents, who had tried to force their way to the door outside, forcing Security to take drastic actions to restore order. Never had so many been killed for the 'protection' of the citizens, and sadly Veronica had been forced to take her first life then -it had been self-defense, but it was nonetheless difficult. That memory still hung over her even now, and the only counselling her co-workers could give her, was four annoying words.

"Don't think about it."

Hearing those four words echo in her mind made her cringe, shaking her head a little and stopping to lean against the nearby wall to shake the thought out of her head. Those rumours she'd been hearing were starting to sound quite convincing to her, and she was starting to wonder if the Overseer really knew what he was doing or if he even knew what the world was like outside. She almost felt tempted to find the Overseer and even challenge his authority.

But, that wouldn't get her very far. She had been in Security for a while now; after her G.O.A.T exam, that had become her life. Nine years, she'd been doing this, seven of those spent quelling tensions. Fortunately, she had never had to use her gun again after the last incident -other than her many visits to the shooting range to blow off steam- but her trusty baton saw plenty of use. Just the same, she was still a maggot, in the eyes of the higher-ups, and she wouldn't be missed if they decided she'd become a problem.

As she continued to fume at her situation, a clamour reached her keen vulpine ears. She stopped in her tracks, listening for it to happen again. It had come from a room ahead, on the left; the tool shop, she noted by the sign on the door. That door was supposed to be locked this time of night; there shouldn't have been anyone in there after curfew...

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Veronica began treading lightly to the tool shop, already keeping her paws ready to draw her 10mm pistol and her baton as she approached the door leading into said room. She pressed herself against the wall, putting her head against the door and listening again for any sound within the room before she would act. For a moment, it seemed quiet, until she heard what sounded like the lid of a toolbox closing within, giving her the confirmation she needed.

She drew her pistol first from its holster, holding it in her left hand as she reached for the door, being as quiet as she could until she grasped the handle. Once she had a firm grasp, she quickly jerked the handle and pushed the door open, rounding the corner and aiming her weapon into the room, her senses on high alert. With the lights dimmed, there was no shortage of corners for someone to be hiding in, using the dark to her advantage. But being a fox, this was not a concern for her; she could see the dark shelves ahead in a green hue, and it became ever clearer as she stepped into the shadows, and barked an order to the intruder.

"Vault Security! Show yourself right now!" She demanded in a firm, commanding tone.

"Don't shoot!" A frightened voice called, a pair of hands appearing from behind a shelf, showing they were holding a wrench, but were otherwise unarmed.

"Make no sudden moves, pal. Come on out slowly." She demanded, keeping her weapon trained on the pair of hands that revealed themselves.

The figure stepped out into view, still holding the wrench. She found herself looking at a young male raccoon staring back at her, eyes wide with horror as he saw the gun in her hands, his own hold on the wrench trembling. It then occurred to him that he should put it down, and slowly, he moved his hand to the shelf next to him, placing it before stepping away. "Okay, I'm unarmed, see?" He informed her. "I'm not a threat."

She lowered the gun, but kept it held in her hands, prepared to use it again if she needed to. "What the hell are you even doing back here? It's way past curfew."

"My dad asked me to come down to grab some tools," the raccoon explained. "I'm Louis Kyle, from B-block, unit sixteen; our fridge broke down. My dad is with maintenance; he could fix it, but he needed some tools. He said nobody would be down here, so he lent me his keycard," he gestured at the breast pocket of his vault suit. "That's how I got in."

She narrowed her eyes a little at the raccoon as she slowly began to put her gun back into its holster before crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Apparently he failed to tell you about the afterhours patrols down here." She stated, still finding his story a little farfetched. "Let me see that keycard."

Slowly, he reached down to the pocket, sticking two fingers inside and producing a small plastic card, before he held it out to her, keeping his other hand raised as he did. When she took it from him, she saw the I.D badge on the front; it did indeed belong to an Edward Kyle with the maintenance staff. Based on his picture, he was the same species as the youth standing before her, so at least his relation to the owner of the card was more believable. Whether or not he had been asked to come down here remained to be seen.

No choice but to take him back home then, she realized. She would have to report in to the chief to let him know she was leaving her post temporarily. Veronica sighed and handed the card back to Louis. "Well at least your relation to maintenance checks out," she said in a softer tone. "Still, that doesn't mean you can just waltz in her after hours and not expect to get caught." She added in a firmer tone. "This place is crawling with shit waiting to go down as it is."

"I know... we just didn't want our food to spoil," said Louis. "We aren't getting any new ration tickets until next week. I'm sorry." He nodded his head respectfully to her.

She waved him off dismissively. "It's fine..." She returned, rolling her eyes a bit. "Well either way, I have to escort you back to your section now and report this to the chief." Veronica added, then looked around a little before leaning in close. "Though if you're just looking to fix your fridge, then I suggest you grab what you need before I change my mind..."

His face lit up. "R-Really? You'll let me take the tools?" He asked, surprised.

Veronica shrugged. "This place is fucking boring enough as it is. I need a little excitement in my life, even if that means putting my ass on the chopping block." She replied. "Just grab what you need. I'll be waiting outside." She returned firmly, turning about on her heel and heading for the nearest intercom to make contact with her superiors.

She pressed the button for the main office, and received a reply within a few seconds. "Chief Berens here. Identify."

"It's Veronica." She replied. "Found a disturbance in the Toolshop. Some nitwit up after hours." She reported. "I'm going escort him back to his ward."

The reply was quick and to the point. "Copy that, Shepard. Be sure to give him a warning; we can't have people scurrying around after hours. Soon as you're done, get back down there. Berens out."

"10-4." She returned sarcastically after the feed was cut, stepping away from the intercom and heading back to the tool shop to escort the young raccoon back to his quarters. "Another day, another dollar..." She mumbled as they walked to the stairs.

...Not that she was actually paid.

~~~~~

Veronica returned Louis to his unit, where she had a long talk with his father about sending his son down to maintenance alone; besides it being past curfew, the area was too dangerous for someone who did not know and understand the dangers of the machinery on that level to be wandering about. She gave him the usual warning; a repeat of the offense would be met with consequences, in the form of reduced ration tickets, or flogging. The elder raccoon apologized repeatedly, and promised it would not happen again before also thanking her for her understanding, and thus Veronica was able to head back to her patrol.

She headed downstairs to resume her rounds on the maintenance ward, but suddenly thought she heard a footstep back at the top of the stairs as she was halfway down. She looked back up, but didn't see anyone. Brushing it off as her imagination -or some other fault in the vault she didn't know about, she started her rounds again, making a point to double-check the tool room this time, in case anyone else had any ideas about rattling around after curfew.

As she made her first circuit through the area, turning back to go the way she came, she rounded a corner, and expected that the rest of her night would be long and quiet as usual. But as she passed by an open broom closet in the hall, she heard someone speaking behind her. "Ms. Shepard. Fancy seeing you here."

She turned, and came face-to-face with a male wolf leaning against the doorway of the closet. A wolf she knew all too well. "...Ross." She returne, struggling to hide the disgust in her voice at the sight of him, turning away from the wolf. "The hell are you doing up? Shouldn't you be serenading some woman back to your room?" She asked in a coy tone.

This wolf was Ichabod Ross; the Overseer's only child and the local 'playboy' as many had begun calling him through the years, as he had charmed perhaps every legal-age female in the vault into his bed at least twice over. But not Veronica, who had never been interested in his advances. Not that she could push him off most times; he was the Overseer's son, and wasn't afraid to use his father's protection to pursue his perverted interests. And he was not one for taking no for an answer, as she would soon be reminded as she felt him walking up behind her.

She felt his paw touch her shoulder as he began speaking in that almost musical voice that had won the many girls of the vault, speaking lowly and seductively. "I fear my companions could not join me this evening," he said, speaking softly as he started to walk around her, his paw running along her arm as he moved. "But I am in the mood for something... new," he went on. "Someone who is a little more confident than the others; a lady so sure of herself, she has become an esteemed member of the Security unit." He went on.

Hardly esteemed, she knew; she was a guard, like any other. This was just his way of trying to get into her pants, by flattering her.

She abruptly brushed him off. "Paws off, playboy." She warned him, giving him a very stern leer. "Flattery might get you in other girl's pants, but not this girl." She added, brushing past him. "You wouldn't even last five seconds with me, anyway."

Although what happened next was not unexpected, it didn't make it any less infuriating. Ichabod seized her shoulder, stopping her. "I would take great pleasure in proving you wrong, my lady," he said. "I could get you the rest of the night off, if you want." She felt him moving closer to her. "Surely, you'd rather spend your evening doing something more enjoyable than walking through these dreary halls, am I right?" He whispered in her ear, his breath rushing over her fur. "Such a beauty should never have to give up her enjoyment for the sake of duty," he whispered, trying to make his words sound poetic.

Veronica was just about to snap at him, turning her gaze back toward the wolf holding her shoulder and staring right into his eyes. "Maybe." She returned, then forced his paw off her shoulder by shrugging violently against his grasp and taking a few steps away from him, turning to face him with a cold stare of warning. "But I'd rather do it with someone who doesn't hide behind their old man whenever they don't get their way." She retorted sharply.

His usual, charming demeanor seemed to vanish as he met her gaze, his brow furrowing. "What point do you make by always refusing me?" He asked. "You're the only female who has yet to share my bed; why fight it? As if wandering down here is better than a night with the Overseer's son?"

"Because!" She returned, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "In my eyes, all you're doing is using your position as a crutch to get what you want, when you want. You're like a fucking vulture preying on a near dead carcass, and I have no interest in men like that!" She snapped at him. "I'd rather bed with someone who actually worked to earn their position rather than get everything handed to them on a silver platter!"

He continued to glare at her for a moment, before he calm demeanour returned, and he let out a huff. "Have it your way," he said. "Enjoy your lonely night in this pit, Ms. Shepard." He slowly walked around her, his gaze remaining locked with hers until he was out of her peripheral vision, and she didn't move until she heard his footsteps ascending the staircase ahead, leaving her in peace once more.

"Yeah back at you, you fucking prick," She growled, huffing and running her fingers through her hair, taking a moment to calm herself down before she would resume her nightly duties. She passed a clock while walking, and was relieved to see she only had an hour left before the next shift; she would soon be heading back to her unit for some well-deserved rest -and maybe use some of her shower hours to wash away the wretched touch of that damned wolf...

~~~~~

At the last thirty minutes of her shift, Veronica was free to return to her room, where she used her personal computer to fill out her report, making sure to log every round she did through the maintenance ward, when she encountered young Louis, and even considered her encounter with Ichabod Ross to be added as well. "...Bastard has it coming anyway." She thought out loud as she added in the encounter with Ross to her report, hitting the send key once she was finished thus sending the report to her superiors. "And, done."

With her duties for the night fulfilled, she was ready to settle into her comfortable bed, and maybe finish up on her book that she had started not too long ago. Stripping off her vault suit and throwing it into the laundry hamper, she let herself fall onto her bed with a grunt, sliding up to her pillow and let herself relax. Moments later, she reached over to the dresser next to her, retrieving her book and propping herself up against the headboard, adding pillows and shifting until she was comfortable, settling into her bed and resuming where she had left off on, enjoying the quiet her room afforded her.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to get as far into the story as she had hoped, as fatigue was starting to set in and disrupt her focus. When it was clear she was not going to make it to the next chapter, she slid her bookmark in at a transition, setting the book aside and pulling her covers over herself. Sleep claimed her within moments of her dimming the lights.

Eight hours later, she rose from her sleep, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She slid out from beneath the covers, stretching and getting herself ready for the daily routine. With a few hours before her shift, she fixed her hair, put on clean underclothes and a vault suit, and her standard issue security armour. She still had a few hours before her shift, so while enjoying some breakfast and water, she afforded herself a little more reading time.

But, all too soon, it was time to report for duty. She left her quarters and headed for the maintenance wing, descending to the lower level with a sense of exasperation that she felt every time she came down here. 'Ross is right about one thing,' she thought dejectedly as she approached the intercom. 'This place is a pit.'

"Shepard reporting in. Starting my shift now." She said, and awaited a response.

Within minutes, she received it. "10-4; signing you in. Have a good night."

"No promises..." She muttered after cutting the feed and sighing to herself as she headed down to the maintenance wing to start her shift. "Another day, another..." She caught herself and let out a groan. "Right.... they don't even fucking pay me here. Why do I keep saying that?" She asked herself rhetorically as she began her shift. There was no currency system in the Vault -what use would one be? The only one to have any money in the end would have always been the Overseer.

Unknown to the vixen, her patrols would soon be cut short. An hour after her shift began, she received a widespread intercom message -where all the intercoms in her area were activated simultaneously, and she heard Security Chief Berens call her name, his electrified voice echoing through the halls to reach her. "Shepard, Maintenance Wing, respond." It said, and repeated only once before she found her way to an intercom to reply.

"Huh...something new for a change." She muttered, making her way to the nearest intercom and activating it. "Shepard here. What's the issue?" She asked into the intercom.

"Your presence is required up here in the head office. Get here ASAP." Berens replied, plainly.

"Copy." She returned, shutting the intercom off and about turning to head to the office. "Wonder what he wants this time..." She muttered under her breath, already picturing getting a reprimand for something completely trivial.

She left the maintenance wing, proceeding upstairs and following the halls throughout the Vault. Although there were signs to help the residents navigate through the confusing corridors, she had spent so long travelling through them that she did not even require the signs to find her way around, especially where the main security office was located -only a few doors down from the Overseer's office, in fact.

Before long, she reached the office, waiting for the door's panel to read her security badge before opening, and stepping inside. To her immediate left was the waiting area, and one of the seats was occupied by a middle-aged gray wolf with a thick fur concentrated around his facial areas, giving him the look of a beard. A lean figure showed through the form-fitting outline of his vault suit, with a little pudge present around the midsection. It took less than a second for Veronica to recognize the wolf as the Overseer. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him, and swallowed nervously as she tried not to show her shock at seeing the vault leader waiting when she was called to head office.

The middle-aged gray wolf didn't even look up at her as she stepped inside, opting to stay focused on this twiddling fingers in his lap, as if they were far more interesting. Berens, the chief of Security, who was easily a decade or so older than the Overseer, was a male black labrador, with streaks of gray visible in his scalp as if to indicate his age. His face was stern, despite the droopiness of his muzzle, and he had a gaze that could stop a clock, which was turned onto the vixen as soon as she entered. He wore the same security-issue armour she did, but his was embroidered with epaulets on each shoulder, bearing three white stripes apiece, which signified his status.

"Thank you for coming on short notice," the old canine said, glibly, gesturing to a chair alongside the desk.

She took a seat before him, brushing her hair a bit before nodding back to him. "Is something the matter, sir?" She asked, maintaining a professional demeanor when speaking to the chief.

"The Overseer here just wanted to ask you something," Berens replied, gesturing to the wolf, who so far had remained distant. The two sat looking at him for a moment waiting for a response, but the wolf still sat idly, staring unblinkingly at the floor. A moment of uncomfortable silence later, Berens cleared his throat to get his attention. "Sir."

"Hm? Yes?" The wolf asked, looking up at the labrador.

"You had a question for officer Shepard?" He asked, gesturing to Veronica.

"Not just yet," the male replied, looking away. "I'm still waiting for someone else."

Veronica could see from the look on Berens' face that the old Labrador was not aware of anyone else coming to the office. The vixen started to get an uneasy feeling as she looked at the Overseer again; there was intent behind those distant eyes... he was up to something, but there was no way of knowing what.

Before she could think to ask Berens what was going on, the door to the office opened again. A male canine -though what species could not be determined, wearing a full body of vault security armour, including a helmet with a lowered visor, stepped into the room, dragging with him two others that Veronica recognized instantly. It was the raccoon family she had met the night before; Louis and his father, Edward, who both looked as confused as she was as to why they were there. The Overseer rose, his face lighting up at the sight of them. Yet, behind that gaze, he seemed much darker than he had before.

Veronica's ears perked up at the sight of the two of them, a look of mild shock as she looked between the two of them, then at the security guard, then back to the Overseer. "The hell's this all about?" She suddenly asked.

"I must agree with Shepard, sir; what is going on here?" Berens asked. "You never mentioned anyone else being brought to this meeting."

"Officer," the Overseer began, looking at Veronica. "The young man here. Is he the one you apprehended in the tool shop last night?"

Of course, the Overseer would have access to the Security reports, she thought. But he'd never taken an active role in any of the incidents before; most of the time he just sat in his office, talking on the intercoms occasionally to share news worth mentioning, or remind the vault residents why they must remain patient until the day comes that they could return to the surface when the nuclear winter ended. But otherwise, he did not do anything Veronica knew about. What had sparked this sudden change in him?

Remembering she still had a question to answer, she caught herself before she slipped too deeply into her train of thought, facing the Overseer. "...Yes sir, he is. Why?" She asked, crossing her arms. "And since when did you decide to get more involved with security affairs?"

The wolf shot her a dangerous glare. "All things in this vault concern me, Shepard," he stated, firmly, before he turned to the two raccoons. "Now... Mr. Kyle, isn't it?" He asked, addressing the elder of the two.

"Yes sir," he replied, nodding.

"According to a security report I received, you sent your son down to the toolshop after curfew, correct?" He asked, and began circling them like one of his feral cousins would stalk helpless prey. This action clearly was making them uncomfortable, but he only seemed delighted to see them so. "What exactly did you need such tools for?"

"Our refrigerator malfunctioned, sir," replied Edward. "I'm with maintenance -I thought I could just fix it myself rather than report it. I didn't want to inconvenience anyone. So, I gave my son my card and sent him down to find my toolbox." He put his arm around Louis. "He's not in any trouble is he? Please, if you're upset with him, it was I who asked him to go; if there's a reprimand, just let me face it."

"That will depend on how you answer my next question," replied the Overseer, the tone of his voice sending a shiver up Veronica's back. He was acting like he was interrogating a war prisoner, not just asking someone about their activities. What the hell was going on here?

The Overseer continued. "Was there any other reason you needed those tools?" He asked.

"None, sir; just the fridge."

"Did you put them back when you started your duties today?"

"Of course," replied Edward. "The toolbox is right back where I always keep it in the tool shop."

"Are all of its contents inside?" The Overseer pressed further. "Not missing any heavy wrenches, or screwdrivers, or maybe a nail gun or the like?"

Edward was clearly becoming more uncomfortable with the nature of the questions. "S-Sir, I know the rules of this Vault. I would never keep any of my working tools out of their proper place unless I was on duty."

Suddenly, the armoured guard seized Robert's shoulders, holding him still as the Overseer suddenly grabbed him by the ears and yanked him forward, glaring harshly into his eyes. "You swear on your son's life; nothing at all?!" He demanded.

"Overseer!" Berens exclaimed.

"Silence!" He shouted at the labrador, and pointed at Veronica when he saw her instinctively standing up. "Stay back, you!" He warned, before facing Edward again. "Well?"

"Nothing is missing, sir," the raccoon replied, terrified. "I swear on my life, and my son's; I have not kept anything."

The Overseer held him there for a moment, before eventually releasing him, letting him step back and rub his ears to ease the soreness brought on by the wolf's surprising strength. "Very well; I believe you," he said. "You may go."

With his leave, Edward and Louis rushed out of the office hastily, as if running from a crazed madman -which, after what Veronica had just witnessed, may have not been off the mark. The Overseer turned to Berens, fixing him with that dark stare. "See to it that those two are watched. If they set foot anywhere they shouldn't be again, I want both flogged as punishment, publicly if you prefer, so that others may see."

"Under what charge, Overseer?" Demanded Berens. "You assaulted a man for breaking curfew; that was hardly...!"

"Do not seek to tell me what is or is not necessary, Berens," the Overseer cut him off. "You will do as I instruct, and nothing less."

Without another word, he stormed out of the office, followed by the armoured guard, leaving the stunned labrador and vixen to process what they had just witnessed.

Veronica just stared in shock at the Overseer as he left the office, a scowl soon forming on her face as she turned back to Berens, visibly agitated by what she had been forced to witness. "What in the fuck was that all about, chief?!" She demanded angrily. "That can't be the reason you wanted me up here!"

"I... I had no idea this is what he was intending," returned Berens, equally shocked by what he had just seen. He fell back into his chair, staring at the floor before turning to Veronica. "I don't understand... he just threatened that man in front of his son, over a break of curfew? At most that would just mean the forfeit of a ration coupon, not such physical abuse."

"He's losing it, sir." Veronica stated firmly, turning her gaze back out of the office. "The poor guy just needed tools! What's so damned incriminating about that? He certainly doesn't look like he's causing trouble!"

Berens let out a sigh, putting a hand to his muzzle as he deliberated on a thought, remaining silent for a moment before he stood up again, turning to Veronica. "There's something I need to ask you," he said. "Have you heard the recent rumors; whispers around the communal areas, about another uprising in B-block?"

"No, I haven't sir." She returned, calming down and taking her seat again in front of the head of security. "Is that what this is about? Why the Overseer just suddenly lost it on some poor man and his kid?"

"I fear it is connected, yes," he replied, nodding. "I was notified of it a few weeks ago; I tried to keep it quiet, so that I could investigate personally, and maybe drench the embers before they became a wildfire," he explained. "But, the Overseer caught wind of it, from his personal informants within the Security detail, like that armoured canine you saw come through."

An informant? Her mind practically screamed about how wrong that was in more ways than one; that canine had practically been equipped for another world war! Of course, the armour had hidden his identity, as was probably the intention, but no one in the vault ever went around in full tactical gear like that, especially not just for an arrest; no one in the vault had weapons or...

Suddenly, she remembered the Overseer's interrogation of Edward, asking him about tools that might be missing; wrenches, screwdrivers, a nail gun -all of these had the potential to be used as lethal weapons if such a need arose. Is that what he thought; that Louis had been sent to retrieve improvised weapons?

"...Oh shit..." She muttered as she now realized the severity of the situation. "...Even so, that still doesn't give that bastard the right to accuse someone the way he did without proper evidence!" She claimed.

"I agree," he returned. "The Overseer has boundaries he should not be crossing, but unless he truly hurts someone even I can't touch him. Just because B-block seems to be ground zero he's convinced the entire block has turned traitorous. A few of our guys have also become rather unclear about their nightly activities lately; I suspect these are his informants. He's trying to keep even_me_ in the dark." He shook his head. "This isn't good... I understand people are frustrated, that they want to get out and see the world, but I don't think they realize just what that man is capable of."

"We can't just sit on our asses and just wait for all hell to break loose." Veronica stated boldly. "There has to be something we can do."

Berens sat in thought for a moment before he gave any reply. "I need some time to think on this," he said, looking up at her. "For now, only you and I know about what just happened in this room tonight. Tell no one else what you witnessed for now; if word of the Overseer's actions gets out, it'll only further stoke the fires in B-block. If there really is a riot coming, we can't accelerate it while there's still time to prevent it."

He was silent again for another moment before he spoke up. "Shepard; finish your shift tonight. I may have a new assignment for you tomorrow. When you get back to your unit, make certain your door is tightly locked, just in case. Keep your gun ready as well."

"Sir," she returned, nodding back to Berens as she stood up from her seat. "Don't think too hard, boss," she remarked in an upbeat tone.

The gruff old labrador actually smiled at her words, before waving her off and sending her away to resume her duties.

~~~~~

The next two days in the vault were anything but normal. Each day Veronica could practically feel the tension in the halls when she went to the hygiene pod or to the ration house; citizens from the B-block were behaving oddly, and more often than not she noticed some of them giving her dirty looks -not dirty in the way that Ichabod Ross would be giving her, but a more vengeful look as though she were an enemy. They would always turn away when she looked back at them, but she was not imagining those cold stares. Eventually she did realize though, that it wasn't her they were looking at... it was her uniform.

As a Vault Security officer, she was a direct representative of the very thing they wanted gone -the Overseer, the one who kept them confined in this miserable Vault, day after day, without offering any opportunity to visit the surface. Over five hundred citizens lived within Vault 228; they had been living down there for god-knew how long, how many generations of families lived in this hole beneath the ground. They had had enough of this confined living, and who could blame them?

But, as a guard, it was her duty to maintain order. All she could do was carry on with her duties.

On the third day, since the incident with the Overseer and Edward Kyle, she was going about her usual morning routine, having breakfast from her freshly received rations -packaged devilled eggs and canned bread; freshly kept food with only a thousand counts more than your daily recommended intake of preservatives, she mused. Scrumptious.

But, it was food; a vixen had to eat. She finished her breakfast, standing up from her table and slipping into her vault suit, before adding her security armour over it. With her tools gathered, she prepared to leave the room, when the intercom suddenly buzzed. She was half-expecting another Overseer announcement, but was shocked to instead hear Beren's voice, and he sounded distressed.

"Attention all Security Personnel; we have a code red! There is a riot in progress in B-block, repeat; riot in B-block! Citizens armed with improvised weapons are attacking vault officials! All additional personnel, report to armoury for tactical gear immediately! B-block is on lockdown; let no one out!"

She should have been surprised. Should have been alarmed in some way about the emergency announcement. Certainly, she felt some dread, but somehow, she remained calm, collected, and did as instructed; arming herself with her pistol and baton and donning her armour, she charged out the door. "So, it begins," she said before striding down the hall.

She ran through C-block as fast as she could, dodging some citizens who were quickly fleeing back to their units and sealing the doors as she made her way to the armoury. Of course, to her own misfortune, she was on the exact opposite end of the vault from where the armoury was located, and so she had to pass through the whole block, through the arboretum and main halls, before she'd get to the junction to the other blocks and _then_could reach the armoury. Even running at her speed, she was at least five minutes away from where she needed to be.

"Whose bright idea was it to only have one armoury, and keep it at the opposite end of the fucking vault?!" She hollered out loud, trying to increase her pace as she sprinted for the armoury. "I'm going to fucking deck the idiot who designed this place after this is all over..."

Oh wait... that idiot probably died two centuries ago, she realized.

As she passed by one of the access halls to B-block, hear ears caught the sound of repeated, metallic clashes, like a dozen hammers striking a single metal beam She stopped, looking down the hall, and saw two of her fellow Security officers bracing against the locked door to B-block, straining to keep it closed as something hammered against it, lifting it from the bottom and bending it outward.

"Don't let them out!" One of them cried.

"I can't hold it!" The other returned as the door continued to be forced open, the failing hydraulic lock -so decrepit with age- no longer able to keep it shut.

The second guard suddenly cried out as something struck his leg; one of the offenders beyond had managed to open the door enough to swing a weapon -a huge pipe wrench- at him, bludgeoning the guard's leg and shattering his knee with a sickening crack. He fell to the ground screaming in agony, and without him the door was forced back into the ceiling. The other guard backed away, going for his pistol, but was then bludgeoned by a lead pipe held by another citizen as the mob flooded out, filling the hall with dozens of screaming anthros, trampling the two guards and surely ending their lives from the mass of feet walking over them.

Veronica felt her stomach churn and cringed at the sight of the two poor guards getting trampled by the oncoming mob, her ears flattening when she saw the rampaging group heading toward her. "...Fuck me..." She groaned before she began to turn and run herself, knowing if she stayed where she was, she too would be trampled or bludgeoned to death. As she ran, she thought about drawing her pistol and firing back at the mob, but she withheld that thought. She was there to try and contain the incident, not send these folks to the slaughterhouse.

She ran through the arboretum, and into the junction. She made a sharp left, to the corridor that would take her to the Security and Overseer's offices. As soon as she went down the hall, she stopped, instinctively ducking as she heard gunshots, and then spun around to see three armoured figures -armoured like the canine who had been serving the Overseer that other night in full tactical gear and visored helmets, armed with submachine guns and firing into the mob charging them. They were gunning down the citizens!

She watched in horror after her initial shock subsided, seeing the armoured figures gun down the rioters with no remorse, no warning or anything of the sort. "...What in the FUCK?!" She exclaimed in protest, horrified that these guards would attack innocent folks, even if they were rebelling against the Overseer. This place really was going to hell in a handbasket!

The mob's numbers had evidently increased, however, as the guards ran out of ammo long before the bodies charging at them ran out, and the lead of the group three themselves at them, bludgeoning their helmets with the heavy tools they brought as weapons and eventually succeeding in breaking the armour. As they ended the threat of the guards, they began crying out triumph, triumph despite where was happening, in a manner that sounded as if they were part of a cult.

"Onward, people; to freedom!"

"Death to the tyrant!"

"To the vault door!"

"Kill the Overseer; bring an end to his lies!"

Though most of them were pressing on, some had turned in her direction; apparently seeing her as an enemy, they charged at her, six of them, all armed with tools. One of them had a nailgun and fired at her. Naturally, the item wasn't sighted and not meant to be shot accurately, resulting in the nails striking the doorway, minus one that whizzed past her.

Reacting on instinct after flinching from the shot that nearly grazed her, she lifted her gun and shot one well-placed round at the rioter with the nailgun, managing to hit him in the shoulder and force him to drop his weapon and give her precious time to flee before the rest of the group caught up to her. Her heart was racing, and her mind was in turmoil as she struggled to find a solution. She didn't know how she could handle this crisis by herself. She needed help!

Her mind then thought about her superior, Berens. She had been cut off from the main hall that led to the head office when she had taken another turn to elude the oncoming mob. Fortunately, there was a second door to the office near the armoury which was just ahead; she dearly hoped that the mobs had not managed to break open the armoury yet. She didn't like the idea of an angry mob being able to get at the vault's entire arsenal of firearms.

The mobsters were hot on her heels the whole way; the armoury door and rear entrance to the office were coming up. She saw no other guards, but to her relief the armoury door was still shut. The other guards had made sure it was closed. As she ran for the door to the office, she ducked through, and tried to close it, but they had managed to keep right on her tail reached it before it could shut, rushing into the office before it slammed shut behind them. The first of them charging at her, raising a screwdriver to stab her, to which she weaved around and smacked the back of his neck with her baton as hard as she could to incapacitate him, turning to the next and bludgeoning him with her pistol, then striking across his jaw with her baton as she backed away, taking aim at the rest of the four remaining insurgents that now stood before her.

"Come any closer and I'll blow your brains all over this damned office!" She warned. Her arm trembled a bit as she struggled to hold her gun steady, not really wanting to kill any of these rioters. She could sympathize with their desire to leave the vault, but a full-on rebellion was not the way to do so, at least not in her eyes.

Unfortunately, these people had made up their minds. Despite the threat of a gun, the pressed into the room, rushing at her. She put her finger to the trigger, but she never had to squeeze off a shot. She saw flickers of movements at their sides, followed by the mobsters growling and falling to their knees as multiple pins stuck into them, fired by the tasers of three guards, one of whom was Berens, their tasers incapacitating the three, but the fourth was spared, standing stunned by the surprise attack.

She quickly charged in while he was distracted, jabbing at his face a few times with the butt of her gun, then she kneed him in the stomach before smacking him alongside the head with her baton, felling the rioter and rendering him incapacitated. She let out a huge sigh as she holstered her gun, then turned and smirked a bit at Berens. "You took your time." She commented in half jest.

"We were barricading the main entrance to the office when the mob showed up," replied Berens as one of the other two guards with him stepped past Veronica to check the hallway where she had come from. "The mob went straight for the Overseer's office and the Vault door. We tried to stop them, but there were just too many; the taser shockwaves we set up were useless."

"This is even worse than the first riot from C-block; at least then, there was only a few dozen," another guard piped up. "This time, it looks like the whole block is rising up!"

"We can't just simply kill them all!" Veronica reasoned with the guard. "But it seems the Overseer's lapdogs were doing just that; I saw a handful of them gunning people down in the arboretum. Just... slaughtering them!" She grit her teeth.

"I know, Shepard," returned Berens. "But that's not what we're going to do. We have to try and subdue the rioters without hurting them," replied Berens. "Unfortunately our forces have already been overrun; we'll need to use a more widespread means of subduing them." He looked at the others. "We're going into the armoury to get the CS grenades; let's move!"

"Wait, we actually get to use explosives?" She asked, her ears perking up and a smile creeping along her face as the thought registered in her mind.

"Not explosives. Gas, non-lethal, to hinder them," replied Berens as he led the way out, accompanied by the other guards, including Veronica. "We keep them for riot control purposes such as now, though we used them sparingly last time."

"I'm guessing limited supply?" Veronica asked, following close to Berens as they made their way to the armoury to stock up on equipment.

"Partially, yes. And, also that we didn't have an incident quite so large last time," replied Berens as they exited into the corridor, the other guards watching the halls as he approached the armoury door, inputting his password in the console next to it to access.

Shouts were heard from the hallways behind them, coming from the direction of the vault door and the Overseer's office. If the Overseer was not dead already, he had barricaded himself in his quarters, likely with an armed contingent watching over him, ready to gun down anyone who tried to get in. They had to get control of the situation quickly, or there would be no one left to live within the vault.

The door opened with a hiss, and Berens stepped inside, turning to the wall next to him and grabbing a visored helmet off the wall, which he placed upon his head, before passing another one to Veronica. "Put this on. You'll need it," he ordered as the other guards retrieved their own.

"No argument there." She returned, taking the helmet and placing it over her head. Once it was secure on her head, she began to scrounge about the armoury for anything else she could use, better pistols, some CS grenades, anything that would help her and the others contain this riot. The only other weapons in the armoury besides additional 10mm pistols were same caliber sub-machine guns, along with grenade launchers containing tear gas, which Berens took one of, but admitted he had no intention of using it if the CS proved to be enough, and loaded an SMG with rubber bullets instead of real ones.

When everyone was outfitted, he led the way out of the armoury, closing it behind them as they left before re-entering the office, cutting through to the other side, removing the locks and barricades they had placed upon the door, opening it to reveal a mob gathered outside of the Overseer's office, pounding on the door with their hammers and heavy wrenches, which was beginning to give way under the onslaught.

"CS out!" Berens directed, pulling the pin on the first cylinder before hurling it into the crowd. Veronica followed suit after her superior, pulling the pin on the grenade she had in her hand and hurled it to the crowd, watching the gas leak out of the canister and begin to shroud the rioters with the gas.

By the time they realized what had happened, the gas cloud had already engulfed them, and they began coughing and wheezing as the gas filled their lungs, stinging their eyes and making their vision blur. One of the rioters managed to escape the gas cloud, charging blindly at the security troops. He reached Veronica, swinging his hammer; it struck her helmet, but aside from a mild jarring, she barely even felt it, and the rioter quickly regretted his decision as another guard struck him on the back of the leg, sending him to one knee, and then quickly subduing him on the floor.

She saw another rioter escape the cloud of smoke, waiting for him to get clear of the gas cloud before she would lunge at him and smack him a few times with her baton, making sure he was down for the count before turning back to the gas cloud, waiting to see if any more rioters tried to escape. But the rest were too disoriented to even find their way out, and that was when Berens drew his SMG, firing a warning spray into the ceiling above before he shouted for them to get onto their knees.

Between the tears in their eyes, the aching of their lungs and the threat of what sounded like a weapon, they were immediately compliant, getting down on the floor and keeping their hands raised. Berens waited until the gas lifted before he ordered the others to begin restraining the rioters with their supply of zip ties. The other two guards did so, going from person to person and binding their hands behind them with the ties.

Halfway through the process, they suddenly heard a door being broken open from somewhere in the vault, followed by gunfire and multiple voices screaming in agony, coming from the direction of the vault entrance. The other half of the rioters had made it to the vault door, only to find an armed resistance waiting for them. Within moments of it starting, the screaming stopped, followed shortly by the gunfire. Multiple persons ran across the junction area, passing the view of Beren's group before vanishing from sight, running back to the housing blocks from whence they came. Very suddenly, the vault had become quiet once again...

The guards and the detained rioters remained in a stupor of silence for what felt like an eternity until everything finally hit them all at once, starting with Veronica. Her face contorted with rage before she slammed her fist against the wall so hard that she felt her pinky finger crushed between steel and bone; it hurt, but her anger was so fierce, she did not even acknowledge it. "Those fucks didn't have to kill them...!" She growled angrily. "If we could have taken this group out with non-lethal methods, they could have too!"

Berens let out a long sigh of his own, rubbing his eyes with his finger and his thumb as he leaned on the wall for support. When he uncovered his eyes, he looked to his troops; Veronica's rage was clear, but the other two remained incredulous, struggling to come to terms with what had happened. Finally the old canine found the strength to speak and address his forces.

"There's nothing more we can do... for now, let's just make sure there isn't any more violence tonight..."

Seconds after he had spoken, the Overseer's office door groaned, slowly and noisily opening to reveal the wolf standing in the doorway, two guards at his sides and Ichabod hovering behind him fearfully, peering out only to see the scene before him; a row of detained rioters lined up against the wall, hands cuffed and heads lowered in submission, their improvised arsenal lying piled against the opposite wall with Veronica standing over them watchfully.

The Overseer seemed unmoved, calmly studying the scene before, seeing the rioters had been reduced to compliance, until his eyes eventually found the guards. "Chief Berens. I trust I have you to thank for quelled uprising?"

"My team and I were merely doing our jobs, Overseer," Berens replied, humbly. "We are ready to begin clearing the rest of the vault anytime; there are still a few rioters wandering around in the halls. But we will have the situation under control before long."

"You have my thanks," returned the Overseer, nodding to Berens, before he looked at the rioters laying across the floor in front of him. "How many were there?" He asked.

"We believe close to seventy of the residents of B-block were involved, sir," replied Berens. "Half of the group went for the vault door; the rest are those you see here." He waved his hand over the rioters, many of whom were looking up at the Overseer with hatred.

"I see..." he returned, and then Veronica so that darkness in his eyes were visible to her again, feeling a chill creeping up her back as she saw how he looked over the subdued rioters with an almost predatory stare. "Guards," he said to the two armoured figures at his sides. "Execute them all."

A horrified feeling coursed through Veronica's body as she heard those words. Berens, however, did not hesitate, putting up his hands and calling out to the two. "Belay that order!" He barked, the sheer volume of his voice causing them to hesitate. "Overseer, this is unnecessary! They have been contained; they will face charges!"

"I decide what charges they face," the Overseer stated, giving the chief a dangerous look. "And I say the punishment for their actions is death; if they don't want to live in my vault, then they can die in my vault."

"And you think a mass execution will prevent another uprising?" Berens demanded. "The people in this vault will never feel safe; fear may subdue them for now but before long, they will rise up again!"

"Dad, I have to agree," Ichabod spoke up suddenly, which Veronica had not expected him to do, the young wolf stepping out to stand in front of his father. "Chief Berens is right; executing them would not solve anything! We should..."

"Do not presume to tell me what I should do, boy!" He barked in his son's face, pushing him away. "Guards; I gave you an order! Execute them all!"

"Men, don't do this!" Berens pleaded. "I trained both of you; you know this is wrong!"

The two armoured guards, SMG's raised to carry out the Overseer's commands, stood frozen in the hall, eventually looking at each other, as though they could see through their clouded visors. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, until the Overseer repeated his orders to them, louder this time. But they didn't do it. They stepped away from the Overseer, lowering their weapons and saluting the chief, before stepping aside.

"Berens...!" The Overseer growled.

"You may be the leader of this vault," Berens interjected. "But these are my men. I trained peacekeepers, not murderers."

"Spineless cowards!" The wolf roared suddenly, with such volume that even his own son, who was about to speak up, shrank away from him as though he were a live grenade. "You will all pay for this defiance! If you won't see justice done..." He reached behind him, drawing a previously concealed pistol from the back of his belt and taking aim at the closest of the rioters, a boy of only sixteen years old, placing the gun directly between his eyes. "Then I'll settle it myself!"

"Overseer!" Berens yelled, raising his own weapon, determined to stop the Overseer from what he was about to do. The Overseer was still in his prime, however; Berens was not, and he would never be able to raise his weapon in time; at most, he would have his gun in place to incapacitate the Overseer but not before he killed the boy.

Veronica, however, was not out of her prime, and with a hand guided by instinct, quickly raised her own gun and shot the Overseer square in the temple before he could even pull the trigger. She watched as the body fell to the ground, panting shakily and heavily as she just realized what just happened, and the gravity of what she just did.

"...Oh god..."

"Shepard..." Ichabod began to say, looking at the vixen in horror. "What have you done?"

There was a long, uneasy silence hanging over the group as they stood staring at the Overseer's lifeless body lying on the ground while blood seeped through the metal grating in the floor, the once-rioters looking between that and the woman who had just shot him. So many eyes, on her; she didn't know what they were thinking -what they thought of her. But she knew what she felt... sickness, despair. She had just killed the vault's leader, and with it, any chance they had of ever leaving the vault, because only the Overseer knew the passcode that would open the door.

Eventually, Berens stepped forward, approaching the Overseer and kneeling to check him as though to confirm the kill -though a shot through the skull seemed to make it rather clear, taking away his pistol before he looked at Veronica, his expression blank and emotionless. "Return to the office, and wait there for me," he ordered her, before he gestured to another guard. "You. Escort Mr. Ross back to his unit; do not let him wander off."

"Yes sir," the guard returned, taking the young, shocked wolf by the arm and leading him back to the resident blocks. Even when Ichabod was pulled out of her peripheral vision, Veronica could still feel his eyes on her. A few nights ago, she had been pushing off the wolf for trying to woo her into his bed, and now, she had just become the killer of his father...

"The rest of you, remain here, watch the rioters," stated Berens. "And if I hear another gunshot, I'll have all of you reprimanded."

"Sir," the remaining guards returned in unison.

Veronica dropped her gun on the ground, her breathing becoming even more shaky as she did what Berens told her, slowly turning and making her way toward his office, practically dragging her feet as she walked down the halls. Her mind was still processing what had just happened, and that she was the cause of it. Once she arrived at the office she immediately took a seat on a nearby chair, staring blankly at the floor, struggling to keep herself together.

~~~~~

Hours seemed to pass as Veronica sat in the office, waiting for the arrival of Chief Berens. She spent all that time thinking about what she had done -when she had shot the Overseer, taking his life. She constantly battled with the questions of whether it had been the right decision, or could she have done anything else. The Overseer had been about to murder a helpless boy; she could not have simply stood by and watched him do that. But could she have simply disarmed him? Shot him in the wrist to force him to drop the gun? Could she have even made such a shot?

All of this and more surged through her conflicted mind, not even noticing when the door opened, and Berens stepped inside, the old labrador walking up to her. Only when he touched her shoulder did she finally notice his arrival, making her jump in her seat and quickly look up at the elder Labrador. "S-sir." She stammered.

"How are you holding up?" He asked her.

She sighed shakily. "Honestly sir?" She began. "I'm...full of so many different emotions that my head's spinning..." the vixen admitted. "I'm still coming to terms with what I did..."

"If it is any consolation, I think you did the right thing," stated Berens, taking a seat in the chair next to her. "It's clear that the Overseer became drunk with power and would go to any length to hold on to it. You saved that young boy's life." His gaze fell, his expression pained. "But this incident has put you in a perilous position, Veronica. The killing of an Overseer is still a crime of its own, and I fear his son will not be willing to overlook the death of his father by your hands, when the time comes for him to become Overseer."

"Considering all the times I denied his advances on me in the past, I kind of imagined he'd do everything in his power to make sure I pay for this once he does become Overseer." Veronica returned, slumping her shoulders slightly. "So now what...?"

"I've already spoken with Ichabod," explained Berens. "At first, he wanted to have you executed for the death of his father," Veronica stiffened, but the labrador was quick to add, "but I presented him an alternative solution. Fortunately for us, even if he is a playboy, he's more willing to listen to reason than his father was."

"What was the alternative...or do I even want to know?" She asked, already half dressing Berens' answer. She half-expected it to be something perverse or degrading, just for knowing what Ichabod was like; something like she would become his personal mistress for the rest of his life, or that she would be demoted to sanitation duty -a job _nobody_liked.

"The alternative is that you leave the vault," replied Berens, in a low, unhappy tone. "And never come back."

At that, the vixen sat stunned, blinking in confusion as she turned to look at her superior with an incredulous stare "...Wait, seriously?" She asked. "The other option is exile? That's it?"

"Yes," he replied. "Ichabod has an override to the vault door -his father taught it to him while educating him on the Overseer position, fortunately for us. He has also agreed he will start letting people out of the vault, starting with you it seems." He let out a sigh, rising from his seat and stepping away as if afraid to look at her. "I'm sorry, Veronica... This is the best I could do for you. I know you have lost much in the past; I didn't want your home to be added to it."

Veronica shook her head at Berens as she stood up. "No need to apologize sir..." She returned, waiting until the chief summoned the courage to turn and face her, clearly not happy that he was losing another from what remained of his security force. "Honestly...I've been wanting to leave this place ever since I noticed it was falling apart." She then averted her gaze slightly. "Just... never wanted to go out like this, you know?"

Berens nodded in understanding. "Maybe once things have cooled off, things will be different," he said. "But for now, we have to simply let things be as they need to. You have until tomorrow to prepare; take anything you need from the armoury and your unit, and then call me on the intercom when you're ready to go. I will be at the vault door to see you out."

"Sir..." She answered back, nodding slowly to Berens as she turned away from the elder Labrador and proceeded to leave his office, starting first for the armoury to gather up weapons and tools she would need for when she would begin surviving out on her own. All the while, she felt conflicted...this was exactly what she wanted; to leave this god forsaken vault behind and start a life of her own back on the surface. But she never had intended -nor even imagined, that she would leave the vault all by herself...

~~~~~

Veronica spent the night resting in her room once she had collected all the supplies she felt she would need. She had ample provisions, water, her pistol and baton, and her armoured vault suit, all ready for the new life that awaited her. She didn't know what she would find out there, and truthfully there was no way of knowing, but she had no choice. Her time in the vault was at its end, and she would be the first person to step out of Vault 228 in two hundred years. But it was a first step she would take alone...

She didn't even bother to say goodbye to anyone; she had few friends in the vault, and her parents were long gone, deceased under tragic circumstances. There truly wasn't anything for her here, but it was all she had ever known... it was still difficult to leave it all behind.

The whole trek toward the exit out of the vault was a slow and arduous one for the vixen. Or, maybe she made it so, as she wanted to take in as much of her surroundings as she could before she would venture out into the open world. Every step she took made her slightly more nervous than the last, but she kept her composure as she walked on, not even paying attention to any vault dwellers that might be watching her.

She reached the junction, already feeling like she had just hiked over a mountain, and approached the vault entrance access door, which opened for her as she stepped inside. Only four were present in the room beyond; one was Berens, then Ichabod, who was standing off to the side, and two other guards -the same two she had been working with during the riot alongside Berens. They had all come to see her off -though one among them was happier than the rest to see her go.

When she approached Berens, he eyed her sadly for a moment before he voiced his first question. "Do you have everything you need?" He asked. "Armour, provisions, sufficient ammunition?"

She nodded softly. "Should have enough to last me until I find some kind of settlement... if there are any out there." She answered, looking back at him just as sadly as he spoke.

it

"I wish there were another way, I really do," returned Berens, sighing. "If there is anything out there, well... you will be the first to see it."

"Let's just get on with it," Ichabod chimed in coldly, walking over to the terminal and punching in a code combination on the panel, before he grasped a handle on the control panel, looking up at the door and then pulling back on it, grunting with some effort as the handle proved to be rather stiff.

An alarm began blaring, a swiveling yellow light igniting as a mechanical arm lowered from the ceiling, angling itself towards the gear-like vault door before extending towards the door. The magnetized clamps attached themselves, and began to pull it back, filling the room with a deafening metal-grinding noise that caused everyone to cringe and cover their ears as the door was pulled free of its slot in the wall. The door slid free, and upon being released from the magnet, rolled to the side to expose a dark tunnel beyond, opening like the mouth of a great beast as a bridge extended from the walkway they stood upon, touching ground at the door and providing access from which to exit the vault, and enter the world beyond.

It was time...

As Veronica stared out into the tunnel, gathering the courage to step forth into that unknown world, Berens piped up, getting her attention. "I have one last thing for you, Shepard," stated Berens, looking at one of the other guards, who stepped forward and held out a bulky, round object to Veronica. The item had a wrist-mount with what appeared to be a small computer built into the top, looking freshly polished and maintained. "We haven't used these Pip-Boys for some time now, except for our maintenance and technical personnel. But I believe its automated map functions and other doodads will prove useful, so, take it. Consider it a final parting gift from Vault 228."

Veronica looked at the Pip-Boy for a small moment, studying it before she would take it in her paws and examine it closer. She then slid it onto her left forearm and adjusted the straps so that it would fit snug on her arm, then turned her attention back to Berens. "You talk as if this will be the last time we see each other..." She commented. "I wouldn't start saying shit like that yet, old man. Sometime down the road, maybe we'll see each other again." Then she managed a small, coy smirk. "Preferably outside the vault..."

Berens chuckled. "Perhaps. Although I feel I'm a little too old to be travelling, so if anything, I'll likely be helping build the new community we will expand out from here." He gestured to the wall. "We'll make a settlement, right outside the vault, and from there we'll build our future." He turned to her again, silent for a moment before he stood at attention, barking for his other guards to do the same, both of them saluting Veronica respectfully. "Best of luck out there, Shepard."

Veronica saluted them back, holding her posture for a small while, her eyes still focused on Berens. Her composure started to wane a bit the longer she stared at him, and it was after they finished their salute that she would step forward and hug the elder Labrador tightly before she would begin her trek to the outside world. "...Don't think too hard, sir." She said softly to him as her way of saying goodbye.

There was only silence from the four watching her as she crossed the bridge to the vault door, stepping through and feeling her paws, covered by her boots, stepping upon dry, crusty ground. It sounded strange and alien to her, to be walking on dirt instead of metal grates. She jumped a little as she heard the vault door beginning to close behind her, looking over her shoulder to see the door roll back into place, and noisily slide back into its previous position, sealing off access to the vault once more and leaving her shut out from its halls, engulfed in darkness.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. She was in a tunnel, with walls of stone and a floor of dirt all around her. She stepped forward, kicking something accidentally and looking down to find that the floor was covered in bones; the ancient corpses of people who had failed to get into the vault before the door had closed, still even lying in the same sprawled out position in which they had died while crawling up to the door. The number of bones was disconcerting, too many for her to count, but enough that the vault would have been over capacity if they had been brought inside...

She fought back her disgust at the sight of the bones, stepping over them carefully as she made her way down the tunnel until she could see a light up ahead, forming in cracks through what appeared to be a wooden door, build into a hole at the end. At that sight, she quickened her pace, breaking into a small jog. She was feeling a plethora of emotions as she got closer to the light. Eagerness, fear, curiosity. These all flew through her mind as she kept moving toward the light, her pace quickening along the way until she was almost running towards it, having to shield her eyes as she reached a decrepit wooden door, cracked and broken in places to let the beams of light glare through.

"No going back now," she said before she pushed the door open, which summarily fell from its hinges, and suddenly all she saw was whiteness.

It felt as though it took hours for her eyes to adjust to natural light, but in truth it did not actually take long, because the light she saw was diluted by billowing gray clouds overhead. When she finally could take her arm away from her eyes to get her bearings, her plethora of emotions ground to a halt, replaced instead by astonishment. She stood upon the side of a mountain, with an alcove dug into its side to accommodate the location of the vault, and an ancient staircase of concrete lay before her, leading seemingly miles down the mountainside, though its destination was not in sight.

The land was barren, and lifeless. Cold snowflakes fell around her, and as an icy wind passed over her, she found herself shivering violently. Her vault suit was not designed for these sort of weather conditions, and she felt tempted to run back into the tunnel, but now that she had broken the door off there was very little keeping the wind out.

Looking around, she eventually saw around the mountainside what looked to be an old city in the distance, at the foot of the mountain. She knew what city it was; she had paid attention in history class well enough to know that the city that Vault 228 had been built nearest to was Vancouver, once the jewel of western British Columbia. Now, a shadow of its former glory. Beyond the city was the ocean, as gray and lifeless as the land around her, yet somehow still beautiful in its own way. And who knew what else lay out there waiting for her to discover?

"Well... I'm out." She muttered to herself, rubbing her paws over her arms in an effort to keep warm. "Should've brought a jacket," she muttered to herself.

She needed to find shelter, and the tunnel behind her just wouldn't do; the wind was blowing directly into it now, and would chill the inside in minutes. Eying the stairs in front of her, she began to carefully make her way down the mountainside, placing her feet carefully so as not to slip and fall to her doom. It was time to explore this strange new world, but even as she descended, her mind frequently wandered back to the vault that had been her home for her entire life...