Vault 69/Meeting/Introductions
"I think we should go around the room, and introduce ourselves," you say nervously as you move across the room to the Overseer's seat. "And . . . ummm, our position in the vault; what our duties to the vault are; and any immediate concerns we think need to be addressed in our own department." It feels very strange to you to be talking to these adults in this manner. You were always really smart, even qualifying for advanced placement at school (which your parents refused, to even out your social learning with your scholastic learning); that didn't prepare you to be in charge of adults yet. You sit down in your seat and look at their faces. You don't see a lot of confidence in your abilities reflected in their faces. You wonder what you could do to change that. "I'll start, then we'll go left, right, left, until we're through; okay?" Without waiting for an answer to your rhetorical question you proceed.
Standing, even though you had just sat down, you address the room. "Hi, I'm Taylor Willis, but I prefer to be called Tay. I guess I'm the Overseer of the vault?" You try to remember the duties of the Overseer from the Orientation film. "My responsibility is . . . the well-being of everyone in the vault. No pressure there." You're joke gets a few chuckles before you move on. "Umm . . . my word is law, but if I abuse that power the assaultrons are programmed to t-terminate me. I'm not sure what department I am in charge of . . . all of them I suppose?"
"Negative and affirmative," states the assaultron at the door. "You are the head of the Administrative Department. In that capacity all other departments report to, and answer to you; but you are not the head of the other departments."
"Well," you say, "I guess that clears that up. So administrative concerns that I feel need to be addressed . . . Well, there is the matter of a ten year old Overseer, and how were going to deal with that." You look around the table to gauge their reactions. They seem a bit more confident in you . . . maybe. "Mo - I mean, Chief Willis?" You take your seat again.
"Yes," says your mother as she stands. You get a good look at her armor as she does so. The other security you've seen so far had on some kind of padded armor; but your mother's armor seems to be some form of plating. It's all in blue and yellow, that seems to be the default Vault-Tec color scheme, but it actually seems to emphasize her figure somehow. "I am Haley Willis, I am the Security Chief for Vault 69. My duty is to ensure the safety and security of the vault residents, enforce the laws, orders of the Overseer, and Vault-Tec directives; and to met out punishment for infractions. As far as immediate concerns . . . it would be hard to say until I've had time to review my department." So saying, she unceremoniously sits back down.
Doctor Charbonneau stands. She strikes a lovely figure. She is quite petite, but her vault suit compliments her body nicely. It probably doesn't hurt that she has it undone a bit in the front, showing off some cleavage. You find the dusting of freckles across her chest quite appealing . . . like a connect-the-dots begging to be finished. Although she is a doctor, she is not wearing a labcoat . . . maybe to put her patients more at ease? She looks around the room, and says, "I am Doctor Scarlet Charbonneau. I am the Chief of Psychiatry in the Medical Department under Doctor Romero. Due to the nature of Psychiatry, I have sole authority over the emotional health and well-being of the vault residents despite not heading up a department of my own. I believe we should immediately provide grief counseling due to the separation of the vaults. We should also discuss how the separation should be dealt with from a cultural standpoint. This requires a radical departure from our cultural norms, and as the vault's leaders we need to decide what direction these deviations should take. Merci beaucoup." She then takes her seat.
Cheif Killian stands next. She seems like quite a powerful woman. The skin-tight vault suit alludes to the mass of muscle beneath. Her dark skin makes you a bit excited. You'd never even seen pictures of a black lady naked before they dropped the bombs, and it sets your imagination on fire trying to think what she might look like up close outside of that vault suit. "I am Chontelle Killian," she says simply. "I am the Cheif Engineer; and like most engineers I didn't bother to pursue my doctorate . . . but don't think that makes you doctor's special. I know my stuff. Engineering is responsible for the manufacture, maintenance and repair of everything in the vault . . . apart from the organic stuff that is. Issues . . . there's the matter of the Nexus, and Vault 68 to discuss at some point. Not that the prospects are good; but I should probably get everyone up to speed on the situation." She then plops back down onto her chair.
Doctor Romero stands and glances around the room. Her lab coat makes her look even more sexy, instead of less so, somehow. She puts her hands behind her back, and paces back and forth as she speaks. You aren't sure if you're just imagining it, but it almost appears like she's puffing out her chest. "I am Doctor Renee Romero Cortez. I am the Medical Chief of Vault 69. My responsibility is to the physical welfare of the vault residents. There is one huge issue that must be discussed; and that is the future of the vault. With only one male in the vault, we must discuss steps that need to be taken to ensure enough future generations to last two hundred years without having problems with inbreeding . . . not to mention the physical need for intimacy and sexual release that so many seem to neglect."
Doctor Whitney timidly stands next. The woman has a massive chest that even the vault suit is hard-pressed to contain. The zipper appearing to not functionally zip all the way up, therefore exposing ample cleavage. Her lab coat isn't large enough to cover her massive breasts leading to the garment overemphasizing the ridiculously oversized tits as it frames them by hanging to either side. She seems all too aware of her exposure as she nervously tries to hide her cleavage while addressing the room. You do your best not to stare, but how does one avoid staring at a natural wonder when one comes across it? "I . . . umm . . . I'm Doctor Whitney. I am the Hydroponicist . . . that is I am Chief . . . umm . . . Farmer . . . which is the actual title - even though farmers use soil, and I will be using water. That's the hydro in hydroponics - not that I couldn't use soil. The ranch has ample grazing land that could be converted to farmland if need be - not that I would take any land from Chief . . . I mean Misses - Miss - Ms . . . I'm sorry I just . . . umm. Well then - yes. I don't want to step on any toes. I think I'll sit down now. Thank you." She then seats herself, blushing madly, without giving any issues for discussion.
Chief Runningdeer stands up, dust already evident on her vault suit. "Wow," she says without a trace of sarcasm, "that was just . . . amazing. I've never heard anything quite like that, Doc Melons - I mean Whitney . . . truly awe inspiring." Doctor Whitney sinks further in her chair, but Chief Runningdeer continues unperturbed. "Anyway my duty is to maintain the 'ranch' and the animals that it sustains. I spent last night investigating the so called 'ranch' that we have. It might suffice . . . but we're going to have a problem with the stock. There isn't enough genetic diversity in the population for a sustained community. They planned on enough people to avoid inbreeding depression, but they want to start a farm that within a few generations will no longer be viable due to the low starting population? I have cattle, goats, pigs, rabbits, chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, fish of all kinds, shellfish, dogs . . . and for some reason even horses (like there's anywhere to go riding) . . . but not a single species has a population greater than twenty individuals. That's probably okay with the fish and rabbits . . . and possibly the fowl . . . but not the larger mammals. I can't create genetic diversity from thin air. I'm not a gene fairy!" She plopped back into her chair with a huff of finality.
All these adult women are now looking at you to see where the meeting goes next. You nervously think about what issue you should tackle first.
What issue should you tackle first?