Omega had many places that bustled and flowed like the veins of a great beast. It was always changing, as one gang war happened here and another over there. Entire neighborhoods would be made and remade overnight. Only one place stayed the same. Pulsing with violent rhythms and dark happenings, it was the true beating heart of the old mining station.

All its patrons came from various walks of life, Brotherhood, Terminus, and Council alike. Young Asari maidens danced on poles throughout the club while a turian bartender boredly served his drunken patrons and a krogan bouncer was hauling a drunken human out the door to be thrown into the street outside. All in all it was the usual customers.

One patron however stood out and drew everyone's' attention as he walked through the room, even the purple asari atop the balcony where she presided over her queendom took notice. She watched in curiosity at the strange human man walked through her club. He wore an ancient black vest with white undershirt with a pair of blue jeans. His boots and belt appeared to be made from some sort of reptile skin. What made the human stand out though were the bandages he was wrapped in that covered his entire body.

Aria watched in interest as the humans in the bar became fearful drawing back or plain walking away as they instantly recognized the individual. The aliens beside them looked at them in confusion. It was strange, humans were often prideful and boastful, usually stupidly confronting krogan and other things more powerful than they with no fear. It was annoying trait to be honest, but there few things they ran from, thresher maws, feral deathclaws, and herself among others.

This man didn't inspire fear so much as outright terror making Aria intrigued as he walked under her into lower bar. Their eyes met for a moment, and Aria saw a burning fire that unnerved her ever so slightly. Her earth history was rusty. Humans hadn't really been around long enough for her to really care. This man, however, inspired another more in-depth look. She looked at her heavily armored second, a batarian who was also watching with fascination.

"Bray," he straitened up at her words, "send for Holly, I want to know who this man is." Bray immediately sent for the human woman in question via his omni-tool.

"She is on the way," Aria nodded. She sat down and waited, not for long as the saw a middle aged human woman with jet black hair and dark skin quickly climb up the stairs to stand in just at the base of where Aria's couch/throne sat.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" Holly said as she practically stood at attention. Another annoying trait most humans had was that damn Brotherhood training. It was bad enough that the turians had that militaristic attitude but to have another race with the same was rather dull. Holly herself left the Brotherhood for unknown reasons. Something to do with a Brotherhood raid on a Batarian colony that didn't go as planned. It didn't matter to Aria as the human woman was a damn fearsome sight in her stolen Wraith gear and with that turian made shotgun of hers.

"Yes, a human man walked through my club about a minute ago." Holly raised her eyebrow at the generally of the comment but bit down a sarcastic reply as Aria continued, "He seemed different than most."

"What did he look like?" Holly inquired. Aria nodded to Bray who pulled up the footage of the strange man. Holly eyes widened in that same terror her fellow humans exhibited on the dance floor.

"I assume you know about him." Aria asked to break the woman out of her shock and get the conversation moving.

"I thought he was dead," the woman whispered aloud. "How can he be alive? If he is here than…" she trailed off and looked at Aria, "Ma'am, he is going to kill you. Perhaps not right away, but he'll inspire the locals, the ones the gangs crush underfoot and turn them into an army to start fighting off and defeating other gangs. That is how he does it. How he always does it. Even the Brotherhood was weary of letting him out of Zion."

She looked back at the Omni-footage for a moment before looking back at Aria.

It wasn't a threat by the tone of her voice, it was a warning. One Aria took very seriously after seeing the terror he caused among his own people.

"Who exactly is he?"

"Joshua Graham," Aria raised an eyebrow. Seeing her boss' subtle confusion and curiosity Holly spoke again in almost a whisper, "The Burned Man."

"I don't know who that is?" Aria remarked dryly.

"Then I have much to tell you."

Aria gestured the woman to take a seat adjacent to her, "What are you waiting for? Tell me everything you know."

…

The large station hung between stars as the shuttle slowly made its way toward it. It was blocky with beveled edges and painted pitch black, sheeted with a special plating to prevent detection. It was one of three stations that the Elite Rangers used as a headquarters. In it a ranger walked of the boarding ramp of the shuttle drawing the gaze of several other rangers and station personal.

She was flanked by a powerful Meta-human. Her armor was charred and sections were missing revealing flesh underneath that was just as charred. This woman was well known among the rangers as the First. The First walked along with only a slight limp. The Meta-human held his side as well.

Following behind was a new addition to their ranks. An Asari of all things. Despite the bigotry toward aliens in general, the Asari never had once flinched from her duty. She was rescued from slavery by the Brotherhood during a raid in Hegemony space. Left behind by an uncaring Council, she dedicated her life to making them pay for leaving her to rot.

The three walked on down the halls of the station, eventually parting ways. The First made her way to her room to take off her armor. She arrived to small yet spacious room filled with weapon racks and a bed. She shrugged off her tattered trench coat and began pulling off her helm. She made no sound as she removed it despite her charred flesh being torn from her face and scalp. She ripped it off fast. She then did so with the rest of her armor. Taking out her bowie knife she began to cleave off the charred bits of her flesh. It would begin to grow back more quickly than if she had left the charred flesh there.

A voice came from the monitor and it wasn't one of her Rangers. "Well, you have no idea how long it's taken me to find you?!" The Ranger stiffened at the sound of the voice. It was loud and bit annoying, but she knew it well. She turned to her room's view screen, a smiling cartoon face plastered on it.

"Yes Man," she said dryly as she stood up to face the monitor.

"No really you should guess how long. I'll give you a hint at about a couple HUNDRED YEARS!" Despite herself she took a step back. She had never seen her old friend like this before.

She forced herself to speak to the glowing red angry face of the monitor, "I have been helping the Brotherhood maintain its power. I haven't the time to be idle."

"Ah, my dear Vana Clark, being issued orders and following them like the damn machine you've become. It is rather depressing to see how far you have fallen." Yes Man tone held sadness and the First Ranger formerly known as Vana Clark woke up with the words. Her face displaying actual emotion for the first time on a long time.

She had become something of a drone. Being called such by an artificial lifeform was a bit of an eye opener. She looked over at a small crate tucked in the corner gathering dust for so long. She walked over and picked it up and moved to set it on the weapons trunk at the base of her bed.

She ran her fingers along the surface, her fingers gathering dust as she did so. She moved her hand down to the latch and typed in the keycode. It popped open with a hiss as the sealed case opened, revealing the contents that were kept perfectly preserved over the centuries. In it lay a red beret, a necklace with a bizarre triangular symbol on it, pocket protector with thick rimmed glasses attached, a busted servo from a cyber dog limb, a beat up license plate, a pink knitted scarf for those cold Mojave nights, and an old .44 mag pistol. She picked up the last item, the most secret and unfolded the long tailed hood and moved to sit down next the case.

A memory surfaced to an old and dying woman lying in a large bed in a penthouse suite with a beautiful view of the Mojave dessert. A deceptively younger woman sat at her bedside. The old woman smiled as she looked at the younger woman. "Don't be like that," jilting the young woman from her saddened stupor.

"Like what?"

"You know, all sad and destressed. That's killing me faster than the damn cancer. Try to look like you hit the jackpot at Gomorrah, specifically seeing those bastard Omertas' surprised looks at actually seeing someone win those rigged ol' slot machines of theirs." The old woman let out a hoarse cough as she chuckled.

The younger woman gave a forced smile. "Sorry," she mumbled, "It's just…"

The old woman squeezed the younger one's hand, "Don't be so negative. Just think of the now. There will be time for that in the future after I am in the ground." The old woman grimaced no doubt regretting her choice of words seeing an even more distraught look on her lover's face.

"You'll find someone else Vana, they'll be smart and funny, a bit awkward too. Not everyone can be as cool and confident as me."

Despite herself Vana let out a small chuckle and an eye roll.

"There we go. Was that so hard? That is all I want you to be even after I am gone. Just to be…" Veronica never finished as she nodded off for the last time, the life draining from her eyes, but the smile remained. Vana closed her eyes holding back the tears for a moment before letting them out in a small sob. She couldn't take being there a moment longer. She ran out of the room, not before looking back from the doorway at her lover's body. The smile was still there. Seeing that brought a small comfort knowing her love died with a smile on her face. She turned and walked out the door for the last time.

Vana was jolted from the memory. Tears lined her eyes as she looked up at Yes Man.

"I'm sorry, Yes Man for everything I have done or not done over the tears."

"That's fine Vana," his voice was soft. "I am just glad your back."

"Me too," and she smiled for perhaps the first time in centuries. Her face and the formerly charred flesh began to heal faster with the positive action. She picked up her black trench coat, and other pieces of her gear to stow in the bin by the door. She noticed something as her tattered coat shifted in her hands. She brushed her hand over the bump and pulled it off.

She stared at the tracer, recalling her brief fight with the Salarian Spectre. That little shit, "Yes Man," she stated.

"Already sending reinforcements. Just hold out until we get there." Yes Man said as he too recognized the tiny device as a Council transmitter.

She moved to her locker and retrieved a new set of armor. She slipped on a new trench coat and sheathed her bowie knife, Blood-nap.

"Don't worry, we'll hold as long as necess…," she stumbled a bit as the station shook.

"Or at least until the station falls apart," She added with a hint of excitement.

"Just don't get too crazy, this isn't the Mojave. These aren't dumb NCR troopers or even dumber Legionnaires."

"Please, I have dealt with these Spectre's before, they are resourceful and cunning. Almost makes it a fair fight. You know how I like those." She called back as she ran out of the room.

Yes Man rolled his eyes as Vana ran to the hanger were the mercenaries and Spectres had no doubt landed.

"Be careful Vana, I hate to lose you so soon after getting you back." He whispered before blinking out.

Two figures walked down a dark and rusty corridor. One wore a lab coat and the other wore an old worn and faded trench coat. They walked by many cryogenic stasis pods. All of them coffins for the occupants inside.

The figure in the faded trench coat adjusted his old fedora with his steel skeletal hand. The other, a man in a white lab coat didn't take any notice as his eyes were glued to the glowing green screen of his pip-boy. They finally stopped at the end of the row were the only remaining pod stood. The ancient vault had kept it running all these years with plenty of power to spare now that the vault only had one occupant. The true sole survivor of Vault 111. The dark haired man looked up from his pip-boy. His right hand went up to push his dark-rimmed glasses against his pale face.

"I have it," he exclaimed, "After all these years, we are finally able to return the favor to our good friend. May he rest in peace."

"Settle down Cabot, the pod is not open yet. She'll be pretty disoriented. We'll have to let Curie handle her transition," said the man in the faded trench coat.

"Not to worry Mister Valentine, I am hundred percent certain this will work." Cabot's hand's flew over the holo-graphic interface of his pipboy, "There it should release and let her out shortly. I'll continue to monitor the pods functions."

Nick shook his head at the old scientist's enthusiasm. Perhaps his worry was that the pod wouldn't open after all this time. Should have brought Strong in case the darn thing wouldn't open provided the big guy could get away from his darn Shakespearean plays that he performs. Nick looked into the pod where ol' Nate's wife sat. The Red headed dame still had that look of worry and desperation from the day their son was stolen. It was heart wrenching to see or at least the equivalent for him. She hardly looked dangerous, but Nate claimed different. The two met during the Sino-American war in Alaska. He was an infantryman while she was black ops. The military recruited her out of law school in exchange for a full scholarship.

Nick looked back over to Cabot who mumbled calculations to himself while he monitored the pod. The immortal scientist could be a pain along with his overbearing mother and frivolous sister, but he was brilliant all the same. He looked back to the end of the corridor were Curie, the former Nurse Handy turned android doctor was preparing her medical instruments in the event Nora wasn't thawed correctly.

Nick found himself staring at the old pod once more, waiting for the seal to break and allow Nate's wife to finally be free of that frozen ice cube. Cabot let a final excited shout before the seals began to let out a hiss.

As the pod opened Nick found himself hoping his friend could rest easy now. His wife was finally free.

However things went haywire when true to ol' Nate Shepard's word, his wife shot out of that pod like a bat out of hell and tackled Jack to the ground. Nick sprang into action pulling Jane off Cabot and threw her against a closed pod.

"Mrs. Shepard, we mean you no harm. Your husband sent us to get you out." Nick calmly stated.

"Then where is he?" she growled trying in vain to move Nick's steel arm. The pod having left her in a weakened state after so long.

His cybernetic eyes dimmed a bit as his features softened.

"I am sorry to say that he passed away a few centuries back."

Seeing the look in her eyes said it all as she processed what he said. She slumped a bit and Nick let go seeing she probably wouldn't cause any more trouble. She slumped down against the pod.

Curie rushed over, worry etched into the Android face. Nick held up his hand to stop her. Curie nodded and stayed back a ways, giving the woman more space while fidgeting slightly as she wanted to help Nora.

Nick sat down and leaned back. He looked over to see Cabot had brushed himself off and was bending his archaic glasses back into place while maintaining a respectful distance away.

He looked at Jane who slumped down on to the floor. Her eyes looked distant, glued to Nate's pod. No doubt replaying that day her son was stolen in her mind. He decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I know it's a lot to take in. I'll explain past events while Curie here looks you over." Jane nodded slowly as he finished.

"How long exactly?" she asked eyes staring straight ahead.

"Around three centuries give or take, they really made these ol' vaults to last now didn't they." Nick answered.

"What happened to them?"

Nick didn't need to know who she meant and decided to tell her here and now. Curie moved closer and began taking health readings as Nick started.

"Well the story begins when your husband left the vault…"

Codex:

Elder Maxson's Change of Heart: The decision to allow Andriods to join the Brotherhood by none other than Arthur Maxson himself is considered one to the most hotly debate issues of that day other than the allowing Super Mutants join as part the Prydwen Accord. The story behind his decision still remains untold. Another theory believed that Sentinel Shepard was trying to leverage away power and Maxson used the decision to take away one of the Sentinel's biggest arguments in a bid to become elder. While many debated that he himself was replaced by an Android others believe it had to do with his finance, Knight Safrin Heart being outed as a Synth the same day Paladin Danse was too revealed to be a Synth. It was kept secret, instead spotlighting Danse's true identity as a focus point.

Maxson himself undertook the hunt personally, tracking her down many times and failing to kill her. Through she had many opportunities to kill him, she never did, unable to pull the trigger every time. Finally one day Arthur had her pinned and cornered. The story goes he shot her, but it was never confirmed. Some believe he let her go, as he never stopped loving her himself and his decision to induct Androids was a way to get her back. Some say after he stepped down as Elder Twenty years before his death he was seen with a young blonde woman that resembled his former love.

A/N: Well I am terribly sorry for the lack of update for so long. When I heard about Fallout 4 back when E3 was going, I forced myself not to even think of Fallout or risk insanity as the waiting dug in. I found myself diving into Destiny in the meantime at least. I know it's not a good excuse, but Fallout 4 gave me a lot of inspiration. Well I had to actually tear myself away from my damn console in order to write this as well. That was the hardest part I think. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.