A man pushes a dusty, cushy chair across an even more dusty floor. His dog follows behind as if wishing to help. The man pushes it next to a jukebox. He then takes a screwdriver, removes a panel and tweaks around inside for few seconds. He then gets up and presses a few buttons on the machine. As the music starts, he leans back in the chair with his dog by his side. The view pans out to reveal the building to be largely dilapidated. The environment surrounding looks scorched and abandoned, a stark contrast to the starry night above.

That's life, that's what all the people say.
You're riding high in April,
Shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune,
When I'm back on top, back on top in June!

War. War never changes. Cro-Magnon against Neanderthal. Alexander against the World. Axis against the Allies. Every time, Man against Man. The Great War was started and ended in a day. Bombs going off in the distance everywhere you looked. Humanity was preserved in giant, underground fallout shelters called Vaults. What the Vault dwellers didn't know is that these were giant social experiments by the Government. Most people thought the Great War would end it all. Looks like they were wrong.

I said that's life, and as funny as it may seem,
Some people get their kicks,
Stompin' on a dream,
But I don't let it, let it get me down,
'Cause this fine ol' world it keeps spinning around!

March 22nd, 2060. Vaul-Tec Offices Conference Room.
Four men are seated at the large table while the rest of the office is at lunch.

"Alright, sick and sadistic social experiments. Go."
"We convince the Vault dwellers the Overseer is omnipotent and God-like."
"Meh, we'll consider it."
"Twenty men. Ten women. One panther."
"I saw that video once. Pretty disgusting."
"No, as an experiment."
"That's just f***ed up. Tim, got anything?"
"People go in. Door stays open."
"... Mick, back to your idea."
"Pretty simple. We put a panther in the Vault. See how people react."
"Excellent. Let's sneak that into the fine print. Next order of business: The descent into traditional economies since all currency will be null."
"Couldn't they just use bottle caps?"
"Who the Hell would use bottle caps?"

That's life
I tell ya, I can't deny it,
I thought of quitting baby,
But my heart just ain't gonna buy it.
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly!

And then the Great War. A lotta cans of sunshine exploding all over the place. The residents were quickly rushed into their Vaults. They were in for a surprise.

October 23rd, 2077. Vault 43 Atrium.
It's dark. Everyone's scared.

"Joe, it's dark and I'm scared."
"I know, Mary. Steve, you find the lights yet?"
"I think so."
"Grrrr..."
"There we go. Let there be- HOLYS***APANTHER!"
"Close to me, Mary. What the Hell is it doing here!?"
"I have the keys to the armory! I'll- GAHHHHH!"
"Oh my God! It killed the Overseer!"
"Actually, it seems kinda peaceful now."
"Um, whose the new Overseer?"
"Well, with the destruction of the American Government, we are now under Natural Law."
"That thing killed the leader, so..."
"The panther is the Overseer now. Huh."
"I wasn't up for following that tool anyway. I'm in."

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out,
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself laying flat on my face,
I just pick myself up and get back in the race!

And so the Vault denizens survived the Apocalypse. The panther, whom was affectionately named Sooba, ruled generously and fairly. They cloned him for research, but sure enough, he won't seem to die. He currently has 47 living children and 10 dead (all cloned). He is 106 years old. The Vault dwellers worked happily at there jobs and slept soundly (or party hard) at night. Yes it was a peaceful existence for almost a hundred years. Every week there is a meeting of the minds in the Overseers office. The Master of Science and Medicine (Dr. Stan Cold), the Chief of Security (Chief Anthony Stark), the Panther Keeper (Jackie Chan) and the Overseer (still Sooba) meet, usually to discuss what their families are up to and to bad talk the Alchies (maintenance crew). But today, the subject matter is drastically changed.

March 13th, 2177. Overseers Office.

"So my daughter was met with...."
"We'd eventually have to mate with our cousins."
"... Stan, what the Hell are you talking about?"
"It's far down the road, but if the numbers I ran through my head are correct, we'd have to mate with our cousins or die out."
"Huh. Well, we'll cross that road when we get there."
"..."
"Am I the only one still disturbed with this thought?"
"Nope."
"Not at all."
"Alright, so we'll have to open the door and find more women."
"By we, do you mean a group of nubile, expendable youth in there prime?"
"Do I ever mean anything else?"
"Purr..."
"Alright. Any ideas on who to recruit?"
"Yes."
"Yep."
"I do as well. Let's meet back here when we round 'em up."

That's life,
That's life and I can't deny it,
Many times I thought of cutting out ,
But my heart won't buy it,
But if there's nothing shakin' come this here July,
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die!

The world ain't what it used to be out there anymore. But War? War never changes.

Stan Cold Presents
Fallout: Pantera

Tyler Radon, twenty, sits sullenly in the chair in the middle of the room, arms crossed, a petulant look on his face.

I honestly can't think of anything I've done recently that they could pin on me. This time.

The young man tosses his head to get long, greasy black hair out of his eyes, which never leave the Panther. He hates that damned Panther, and all it's cloned Panther spawn.

Idiots. Putting aside the fact that the damn cat somehow hasn't died of old age, why'd you go any make more of them? Why didn't anyone just get into the armory (it's not difficult at all if you know who to bribe/blackmail), get a laser pistol, and shoot the damned thing. Instead most of the people in this underground circus are superstitious Panther-worshipers.

"I honestly can't think of anything that might or might not have happened in the Vault recently that anyone might have been able to insinuate was of my causation, and I can assure you that whatever it was, I've got an alibi. Again."

Chief Stark walks in to the room. "Afternoon Tyler. How's your father? Great. I wanted to talk to you about women." He completely ignores that Tyler is staring intently at the Overseer, who jumps off his chair and prowls the hallways.

Ran meanders slowly down the hallway towards his appointed meeting room.

"Why do they always have to have meetings in the morning," He grumbles quietly to himself as he continues on his way. The faint click of claws on the hard floors of the hallways draws his attention as the Overseer glides out of a room ahead of him and pauses.

Ran freezes quietly and watches as the feline's head tips up, silently testing the air, then it turns away from him and pads softly down the hall ahead of him.

Seeing the open door, Ran decides the meeting can wait for little bit, and slips inside, quietly closing the door before turning to inspect the room.

"Oh, sorry, Chief Stark. I must have the wrong room," he says upon seeing the Chief standing over a petulant looking young teen. He immediately opens the door again and begins backing out into the hallway.

"Rowrl!" The panther flies through the air, landing roughly on its back. It's back on its feet quickly, however, but so is the girl contending with it.

Pushing her ponytail out of her face, the girl drops to a low fighting stance. "C'mon, you big wuss, hit me! You're just a scaredy OOF!" She is cut off as the panther pounces (claws sheathed), knocking her back to the floor.

Stacy Chan, age sixteen, is totally crazy. This is how she spends every morning. Right now, she's got the panther in a head lock, giving it a noogie. "Haha, got you!" She looks up as the door opens, and immediately releases the panther. Cat and girl both manage to look a little sheepish. "Oh, good morning, daddy!"

"That's fine. You'll actually be meeting with Mr. Chan. He's probably looking for his daughter."

"Hey, sweetie. Could you help me find Ran and Tom? I have something to discuss with the three of you."

What about them? What is it about women that you feel you need to express to me, Chief? Is this a 'when a boy reaches a certain point in his life, he starts noticing girls differently' speech? Because that's really my father's job. DO you feel like I ought to be noticing the girls? I've noticed that you notice the girls, Chief. I wonder who else has noticed how closely you keep an eye on your daughter's friends."

Tyler smirks.

"Or is this going to be a conversation about how few women there are in this prison? How your wife is your third cousin, and that if I ever found someone with an intellect brighter than a rad-roach she would likely be even more closely related to me?"

Thomas, age 15, is sitting in the dark.

That's actually pretty hard to do in the vault. It also makes it hard to write poetry, so instead he's just brooding in the hopes someone will come by to see how cool he is.

That actually has never happened.

He's in a stretch of corridor where one of the lights has gone out. In time, someone will be by to replace it, but for now it's great brooding territory.

"Jokes on you! We're not related, which is a pretty hard thing to do in the South! Even more so in such limited conditions. But it is about doin' cousins. Or rather, the prevention of such a situation. I'll wait till James get here to explain further."



Overseer Sooba strides over to Tom and says, "Rowr?," meaning "Would you kindly report to Mr. Chan for an emergency meeting."

Stacy makes a face. "Do I have to? Those guys are totally lame. Couldn't we discuss something with Douglas Daniels instead?" She gives her father those kitten eyes that never work.

"That tool? C'mon. Y'know how I feel about alliterative names. There all like 'Oh, I love you, but I love my Aunt more so I'm gonna make a deal with the devil himself just to keep her alive and forfeit my love for you'. Besides, he's into his cousin. Which somewhat has to do with the meeting that is planned."

"You read too many comic books, daddy," Stacy says, sticking her tongue out.

From down the hall strides James, towards Tom and the Overseer.

"Best not to stray too far in the dark, Tom. The 'Roaches have been far more active lately."

James turns to Overseer Sooba and their eyes lock for a moment, during which something passes between them. Finally Sooba blinks and James nods, and heads off down the corridor. He has a meeting to attend.

No reason to let them know that read those records, I guess.

"You're disgustingly crude, Chief. That a man like you got put in the position you hold speaks volumes about our situation."

He gets to the Security office. "James, take a seat. Now, you boys into missions? Quests? Gratuitous amounts of experience? Possible martyrdom?"