[color=aba000][u][b]Vault 48: Fallout of the Jack's Revolt[/b][/u][/color]

[quote]"You agree with the Council's resolution?"

Even in the calmest alcove on the fifth floor, the hissing pipes and churning machinery hampered the tension. Eve pushed out her chair and ascended. "I stand with the Council."

"And you grasp our logic?" confirmed the chairman.

She dissected her peers. "I believe so," she commented, "for select members. For the rest, I'm unsure."

Her apparent indignation rippled murmurs through the surrounding Aces; she remained stoic. The conclusion was hurried, lest the scene lose control. "Then we declare you honorably banished, Eve Cannon, Ace of Diamonds. Fare thee well, that you spread our majesty to whatever destination the winds of fortune lead you."

A gavel struck wood, and gentlemen with rifles appeared to flank her. She identified them: Mark fought beneath her; Kyle revolted against her. She reported to neither and vacated the premises of her own accord. The riflemen hastened to follow.

She spotted a mass of fur down the corridor. She halted and knelt. "Shuffles!"

The canine bounded to meet her; his tail whacked both sides of the hallway. She caressed the hair on his noggin. "The emblem of loyalty and innocence. I'll miss you terribly."

Mark reminded her of the law: "Among your privileges is the right to requisition an animal companion."

Eve contemplated the opportunity but literally passed it by. "I'm relieved of my obligations, and grateful for it." Whether she meant it was an enigma.

The vault entrance was a minute's journey away. Eve touched the firm fortified bulwark. "You can laugh, Kyle. I won't take offense."

Kyle attended to the panel that maintained the locking mechanism. "Recognized. If it were a laughing matter, I would."

As the round behemoth rotated outward. Eve gazed at the ceiling. She whistled, and her familiar mutt rejoined her. "Not every duty is a chore. I accept your offering, Mark. Prosper in my absence."

Mark saluted. "Best of fortunes. Where shall you travel?"

She peered into the verdant wasteland. "The colonies, I reckon," she answered, "to atone for my sins."[/quote]

[color=aba000][u][b]Danny "Nines" Floyd - Gomorrah Mezzanine - Noontime, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

Daniel lifted his index finger. He intended to fulfill the don's errands and earn gratitude. This collateral absent, there was a nonzero percentage of leaving Dominic empty handed, and affronted crime lords yielded, ahem, [i]unique[/i] repercussions. What was a straightforward venture had devolved into a catch 22. Scylla was a heavily guarded nuclear bunker upon which he'd bash his ambition to pieces. Charybdis was the bottomless cavalcade of torture methods a robber baron possessed. Floyd's navigation must be damn near immaculate.

Daniel racked his brain to reevaluate the risk. With decades of experience, Paul stood apart from his colleagues. Stubbornness or social ineptitude kept his innermost professional secrets from the fresh recruits, who resorted to dusting off the ancient manuals for wisdom. The latter would placate but ultimately disappoint the don. Convincing Paul, however, would be nearly as monumental a task as the Vault's conquest, a strict factor to the negative.

To the affirmative, in negotiations, Omerta showed nothing but earnest courtesy, defying the caricature his reputation implied. He acknowledged Danny's trepidation and dismissed his spouse to assuage his guest. His reasoning aligned with genuine interest in nurturing the community, regardless of underlying intent. Perhaps he wouldn't be so unforgiving if Floyd returned with naught but a broken sword.

Victory was attainable. Failure was tolerable. And yet...

[color=aba000][u][b]Vault 48: Dawn of the Reforms[/b][/u][/color]

[quote][color=aba000][i][b]Vault 48 - Floor Ten Hospital[/b][/i][/color]

"I present the prototypes, as requested," Daniel announced with a tray. It clattered onto the stainless steel hospital table.

An unruly screw preoccupied Henry Hinshaw. The deathclaw assault last month demanded that he supplement the strained workforce. He lowered his product. "Excellent, Nines. Grace, would you fetch a random sampling from Drawer Fifteen?"

Unused to the manufacturing environment, the Ten of Clubs anxiously embraced her clipboard in the background. "Yes, sir." She skimmed the organizational cabinets for the appropriate marker. The floor's employees assembled as she arrived.

Daniel noticed Isabel's condescending akimbo stance but expectant countenance. She'd wring him via compressor if this was a wild radgull chase. Noise from four placed stimpaks hitting metal disrupted his vivid imagery. He swallowed. "Ready, boss?"

Henry selected from Grace's bounty. "When you are."

They each injected a device into their non-dominant arms. Daniel's arteries pulsated with biologic regeneration. Exhaling in relief but wasting no time, Daniel grabbed a second and repeated the process to similar effect. He hastily fetched the third and final prototype and compressed it.

The sealant broke loose, and red ooze splattered across his abdomen. The peanut gallery towards the rear exclaimed a festive "Opa!" as Grace retrieved a rag. Unbeknownst to them, Danny's palm had jammed into the syringe's glass, which shattered on impact. Henry rapidly applied his leftover stimpak to heal his subordinate. Daniel hissed as he clutched his wrist.

"Two out of three," Isabel noted.

"Ow... But using half the material, and fewer assembly steps," Daniel countered, watching the wound dissipate. "A net gain for production."

Henry discarded the used containers into a hazardous materials bin. "Gains are appreciated, but these aren't dispensed in a vacuum. Expeditions can't afford to carry faulty devices. Critically urgent scenarios necessitate a hundred percent reliability."

Isabel wandered to her station as the gathering dispersed. "I expect overtime to compensate for the delay. We're stretched thin as it is without your useless experiments."

"Overruled," Henry stated. "The attempt was admirable. If the template cannot be improved, though, I'm afraid the project is terminated."

"Thickening the cylinder or tacking scrap to bolster it would be cost inefficient," Daniel lamented, rubbing the scar. "Unfortunately, I concur. Where am I assigned?"

"Making thousands of regular models alongside us, as you could have done had you ignored this vanity entirely," Isabel quipped. "[i]That's[/i] efficiency for you."

Henry sighed. "Daniel, let's debrief in the old Radaway facility."

[color=aba000][i][b]Vault 48 - Floor Six Science Center[/b][/i][/color]

The dim indigo enclosure hosted a thousand spiders; Daniel circumvented the cobwebs as he entered. "I apologize for the error. I promise I'll-"

Henry dusted off a centrifuge. "How progresses your relationship with the Diamond girl?"

Daniel blinked. "You know about us?"

"It's obvious to anyone paying attention, Danny. Discretion isn't your specialty."

"Then why hasn't-"

"Charlotte's and Bradley's scandal trump a Nine's affairs. You're dodging my inquiry. Answer."

Daniel shrugged. "Our inaugural outing was yesterday. Far edge of the diner. She had a Reuben; I had a burger."

"Those things can get messy. Did you prepare for that?"

"Took small bites, ate once she was distracted."

Henry inspected a set of test tubes. "What portion was allocated for conversation?"

Daniel reflected on the evening, tabulating the night's topics. "Five parts of seven, I think."

Henry wiped them off with his shirt. "Did she have the larger focus?"

"Yeah, we explored Renaissance sculptures."

Henry filled them with water. The rickety faucet he employed sputtered in reactivation. "And the leftovers-"

Daniel vented his frustration. "I'm sorry. Are we discussing my recent failings or not?"

Henry began assorting various ingredients. "We are. I'm gauging your personality to see where you fit."

A demotion. Danny's dejection was visible. "Please, another chance. I assure you, I'll change for the-"

Mildly irritated, Henry motioned for silence. "Everyone assumes that they fully comprehend the concept of 'change;' I expected better from you. Where's that mortar and pestle?" He found his quarry and mashed the components into fine powder. "Do you recall the evolution chapter in the science curriculum? Specifically the moth story."

Daniel nodded. There were rival genetic variants: white and black wings. For millennia, the dark ones were easier to spot while resting on trees and were consequently hunted easily by the local birds. In the Industrial Revolution, the forest was covered in soot. The light moths were exposed on the bark and thus faced the brunt of new predation. "Sure."

"As much as it'd help our survival, people cannot modify their core natures more than insects their color," Henry declared, pouring his concoction into a vial. He capped and shook it prior to inserting it into a slot on the machine. "We don't change; environments do. We adjust. Folk like Isabel will endure anywhere. Praise be unto them; they are the foundation on which glory is constructed, and will relieve us if we fall."

He packed the remaining slots and activated the contraption. The ambience was a mechanical whir. "We are restless. We are hardwired differently: strong in certain disciplines, weaker in others. If we match our surroundings, our society advances. Otherwise, we're stored for a later age or circumstance as 'diversity.' It's not merely individuals. Ideologies, personalities, skill sets, creeds, you name it: they function the same way. Alas, some perish never properly utilized."

Henry pressed the off switch and held the result to the twilight. He dumped excesses into a sink. "48 notoriously has no built in storage, physically and philosophically. He who doesn't work doesn't eat. Fair enough, I suppose. It simply pressures me to reorganize. You and I recognize that you can't handle the mundane, not that your keen eye and book smarts should be wasted on such."

"Quite fortunate, that your talents have landed you a leadership role," Daniel challenged. Lesser leaders would have locked him in solitary for less, but philosophical aggrandizement warranted his flippant jabs.

"What, you invoke my Ace?" Henry sniffed his creation. "You don't understand. We cannot tell our grand purpose unless we commit to our position wholeheartedly. We push ourselves to our utmost. Enlightenment is realized under stress. Mash concepts together, and cling to what survives. You are my ward not for your intelligence or perception, but because you can weather a beating from the cosmos and bounce up again. Makes experimentation rather convenient for me."

"So, what's my next 'trial'?"

Henry slapped the walls with his free hand. "You'll start on these very grounds. We've exhausted most options but management. I'll assign you a few compatriots, and we'll find your true mettle. Success begets greater responsibility."

Daniel scoffed, "I clearly lack the charisma for that."

"Well, treat it as a date," Henry callously replied. He approached Daniel and gripped his shoulders. "Drown in complacence. Ask 'why?' and die. Relentlessness doesn't guarantee anything, but it's the only path to the promised land. To acceptance or rejection, demand a choice from Fate."

Fumes from the flask tickled Danny's nose. "That's sweet. What is it?"

"I'm going to dump it in the ice cream mixer; this flavor idea lingered in my head for a week or so," Henry guffawed as he stepped toward the egress. He stopped in the doorway. "I have loftier designs than the petty prestige of an Ace. I suspect they'll bear fruit shortly. I might face the fundamental question on everybody's mind but nobody's lips."

"Which is?"

Henry pulled from his pocket a worn card, decked with his signature. "That these are mere slips of laminated paper after all."[/quote]

[color=aba000][u][b]Danny "Nines" Floyd - Gomorrah Mezzanine - Noontime, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

Daniel came to realize that he'd already reached the precipice, that he was obligated to steer. Striking the sails would drag his vessel and his beloved comrades to the depths. Defeat was preferable to inaction. As the self alleged "King of Sin" highlighted, the firmness to quell differences was his alone. He was heir to Hinshaw's memory and legacy. His other digits unraveled, and he firmly reciprocated Dominic's extended offer. "We do indeed. God bless our partnership. We'll provoke Fate as one."

He reseated himself, invigorated by the thrill of a life altering decision; he needed a moment to relax. He then finished his points: "If I may, I seek to marry my girlfriend in short order. I've arranged the proposal, the wedding lists, the catering, et cetera." He presented a minuscule box and flashed a piece of an aged brass fitting. "Everything except the location. Having recently married yourself, you've likely perused several. Amber admires proper traditional styles, so I figured you'd have advice. Is there any candidate you rejected for its quaintness? That sort of venue ought to sate our tastes."

[color=aba000][u][b]The Meld - Afternoon, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

Amber's ears perked up. The rapping on the door was rhythmic but uncommon. Charlotte recalled the sequence. "It's Faye," she concluded. 

"I'll retrieve my shotgun," was Isabel's blunt reply. She disappeared around the corner. In a flash, she reappeared, placing cartridges in her gun's chamber, to discover herself in the sights of Faye's pistol. The rogue had barged inside. "Look," bargained the Jack, "you loathe me for my revolt. I consider you a mindless lackey. We have reasons to press our triggers, but I'm prepared before you.

"That granted," she explained, "I submit myself to the jurisdiction of the Nine of Clubs. We can either live in sleepless paranoia for our stay's duration, or lower our firearms and assume goodwill. Or would you prefer that I expose to the world here and now the vast emptiness in that thick skull of yours?"

The aggrieved hulk considered her choices, then extracted the bullet. "It'd be a waste of a Vaulter. Goodness knows there's a shortage." Her gun dropped.

"Kick it," Faye commanded.

Isabel kicked it.

"Charlotte, I entrust you with her weapon," Faye holstered her handgun and removed her belt, "and mine. Is that agreeable?"

The newfound responsibilities perturbed but didn't unnerve Charlotte. "Agreed."

"Welcome back, Faye!" Amber diverted.

Isabel attempted a brief levity. "Been ages since I had an arm wrestling partner. No man or woman in attendance can challenge me!"

"We'll spar soon," Faye assured. "First, Charlotte: a singing lady is heading for the Meld. I caught a glimpse of her, but I can't give you a description. She bore a guitar, at least. I figure you have an hour until her arrival."

"A customer? We closed weeks ago," Charlotte hypothesized. "Thanks. Duly logged. For the worst case scenario, I'll grab my husband's lever action rifle. Can't be too careful in Vegas," she winked.