Vault 69/Meeting/Your Age

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"Well, I think that we need to deal with the elephant in the room, and that elephant is . . . well, me," you say with a sigh. "This whole mix-up that made me Overseer is pretty messed up. I know I'm really too young for all this; but there doesn't seem to be a way to undo it . . . or at least not one that doesn't lead to my imminent demise. At the same time, I want to do a good job as Overseer. I'm hoping that you can all help me make good decisions for the vault."


You see nodding from some of the women as you give your impromptu speech. The degree of confidence in you is hard to gauge at this point . . . but you think you may be winning them over. At least you hope that you are.


Your mother speaks first, as usual. "Well Tay, this is going to be a big deal. Being Overseer is a full time job. That means a lot of pressure for you. Since you aren't done with school that adds more pressure. You'll have to continue your studies while you fulfill your duties as Overseer. I'm sure we will all advise you to the best of our abilities, though."


"We're taking this all a little too seriously if you ask me," says Chief Runningdeer. "The simplest answer is that we elect an assistant to the Overseer." She indicates air quotes when she says the word assistant. "That can let the Overseer know what decisions to make. Meanwhile young Tator here can keep up with whatever it is kids get up to these days."


"Negative," says the assaultron by the door, "relegating the Overseer to a figurehead is unacceptable, and will be met with definitive corrective action. Mutiny will not be tolerated."


"Ç'est pourri," says Doctor Charbonneau, "this is not good. We cannot risk the life of the only man in the vault trying to go around the backs of these death machines, no? That is madness. We must give him the guidance that he needs to make his decisions . . . à la perfection, oui?"


"Look, he seems like a good kid," says Chief Killian, "but some of the decisions he'll have to make are likely to be stuff that are a bit too . . . adult, if you know what I mean. Are we really going to expose a ten year old to the problems of an adult vault . . . especially with reproductive issues at the core?"


"He's already going to be involved in those discussions, one way or another," says Doctor Romero. "Or did you forget that he is the only male? I see no other option but to support him and guide his decisions by giving him the best advice and support that we can . . . and maybe I should start throwing some Spanish in to sound as lovely as Doctor Charbonneau, ¿Qué piensas?"


"Well," says Doctor Whitney, "there's really no other recourse here. When you only have one option, discussion only serves to let people vent and to smooth ruffled feathers. I say we just move on and vent on our own time. My feathers doesn't need smoothing."


"I second that motion," say your mom.


"All in favor of moving on?" you ask.


Everyone's hands goes up, but Chief Runningdeer's hand is last and slowest to rise.


"Well then," you say, "moving on . . ."


What issue should you tackle next?