"Overseer." John kept his voice carefully neutral and didn't use the man's name, knowing better than to agitate the man before they had even begun.
They were in the overseer's office. It seemed like a lifetime since John had used it to escape, but nothing had changed here at least. Perhaps there was an air of hurry about it...no doubt a sign that the man standing by the window overlooking the main hall was touched by the stress of the vault as well, but otherwise it was still in the pristine order John had remembered.
The man hadn't changed much, he was still grey haired, still had the same rigid stance that many a child had made fun of by referring to the odd metal rod...and still shoulders tense as a bow. John saw it with different eyes now though, no longer was the man a grown-up bully with too much power, now he was a man weighted with responsibilities...and who had found his way in discipline and order to maintain things.
Misled.
John felt a slight pang of sympathy aimed at the rigid back turned to him even as he glanced to his left. Paul Hannon leant against the wall there, his dark features twisted into a scowl while eyeing John warily, his thumbs were stuck under his belt, which meant his hands were close to his holstered pistol...John's smile only made the man's scowl deepen.
At least he wasn't as obvious as Wilkins and Kendall, the two officers behind him flanking the now closed door having their guns drawn...which John knew since they held them so close to their bodies that he could actually hear their shaking hands make their weapons clatter against their belts. Why had he feared these guys once!? A mystery...
"You have a lot of guts returning here." Alphonse finally said, drawing John's attention. He still hadn't turned to look at his visitor though. "Do you expect us to greet you with open arms? To take you back and let it be as if nothing has happened? After all you've done to us?"
"I expect you to do nothing but to listen what I have to say, then I will leave." John calmly replied. He found an odd satisfaction in seeing Alphonse stiffen and turn around at the words...and then take a surprised step back at what he saw. Holding the overseer's gaze John continued: "And I merely left, these...problems of yours is not my doing ultimately, it's a sign of the deteriorating life here."
The old man glared back at him. "Those are strange words from the young punk I remember...yet I still hear your old defiance, even the wasteland has not managed to get that out of you has it?"
John shrugged. "Whatever helps keeping you alive..."
"Lets just toss him out." Wilkins growled, though the fear in his voice was obvious to anyone. "Or better yet, put a bullet in his head."
"Ignoring that I just said I'd leave on my own free will...I wouldn't make threats to the man in the power armour." John didn't break eye contact from Alphonse as he spoke, watching the old man smirk at an odd scuffling sound behind John. "As I said, hear me out and I'll leave."
"Why would I?" Alphonse retorted, crossing his arms in front of him. "You're a rebel, worse yet, an armed rebel. Why would I negotiate with a man that no doubt has incited the rebels by his mere presence and who causes nothing but trouble wherever he goes?"
"Because these troubles will not go away with me and you know it." John replied, eyeing Alphonse slight hesitation at the words, the man knew he was right... "Because your own daughter is with the rebels...and you need a solution."
"And you will offer this solution?" The old man snorted.
"I will convince you to see the rebels point of view yes."
"Gotten confident haven't we?"
"Yes."
Alphonse chuckled, a short and dry sound, weary. "Very well, I'll listen to you, but only because I owe my daughter that much...and that I don't want this to turn into a fight."
Nodding John forced a slight smile, it came easier than expected. "First of all, lets consider if you continue this path...and the rebels finally tries to force things their way. What would happen? If they succeeded in overpowering your men and opening the vault...you might well die along with some of your men. If they fail...then the vault will turn into a prison where you might have lost several of the youngest people."
"There is...some truth in that." Alphonse grimaced, he'd obviously thought about that too, and didn't like what his thoughts lead him to.
Putting words to the overseer's worry, since John was well aware of it from old talks between him and the married couples in the vault: "And how many people would be left after that? How would things work in the vault? No new generations...or no old generation to guard the new one against the dangers of the wasteland. The vault would end."
"Yes, yes...I know things must be resolved some way." Alphonse made an impatient gesture. "But why would I go with the rebels side of all things? To expose us to the wasteland? To break the rules of the vault...to break the government sanctions." There was a hint of pleading in the voice...as if the man wanted someone to take the decision for him. He looked a little tired now that John eyed him more carefully...
"There is no government Alphonse." John kept his voice soft. "The rules were made two hundred years ago...made for a different time and different circumstances." The overseer looked away, his shoulders slumping a little. He knew all John had said...knew the rules were old...yet what was he to do? He didn't know no other way...John found himself sighing. "How long can this go on? Even if the rebels decide to stop everything..."
"This is getting us nowhere." Paul Hannon growled, fingers slipping against his pistol, he was still glaring at John. Not at his face but rather at his chest, as if it was something there he found particular disgusting. "Don't listen to this troublemaker sir, let me kill him and make a example out of him, the rebels will fall in line after that."
John smiled. "As I was saying...overseer...the rebellion isn't the root to your problem."
"And that is?" Alphonse face might as well have been made out of stone, not even his eyes moved, intently focused on John.
"That the vault cannot endure in isolation no longer." John watched for any reaction but got none. "This place was built to hold hundreds, how many are here now? Even without any other problems the population will soon decline to nothing. I've also seen the maintenance stockrooms...you have Andy left, a damaged Mr handy whose parts are scavenged from over a dozen scrapped robots. All is being worn down...heck the waterchip is practically held together by wonderglue...the generators can only work at half effectiveness nowadays...everything is falling apart no matter what you do." He shrugged. "The vault cannot endure as it now is any longer."
For a moment no one moved. Then Alphonse visibly shrunk as he lowered his head. "There is...that might...be correct." He suddenly seemed very old...his shoulders slumping and his back bending as he slipped back and sat down on his circular desk, gaze empty. "I...I don't know if I can...do what is needed."
Taking a furtive step forward John placed a hand on the overseer's shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "What needs to be done will be done in the end, either you will find the strength to do it yourself or-"
"Or I have someone else do it." Alphonse smiled at him, an honest to God smile. "When did you become the voice of reason? Oh well...I think...I think it's time for me to retire." He frowned, the way he always did when thinking, then smiled again, apparently pleased with his decision. "Please tell my daughter that she's the one in charge now."
"No!" John moved the instant the shout came, recognising the movement in the corner of his eye.
A moment later he had his sword in his left hand, reverse gripped blade pressed up against Paul's throat while the man was still about to draw his pistol. John's own pistol was trained on the other two officers, who's trembling he could barely hear over their terrified breathing. Hannon's eyes were wide with the same fear...but he was holding his breath, afraid of the cold steel pressed against his jugular.
The only one that didn't hold a weapon was Alphonse, and he was also the only one who didn't seem to recognise the sudden danger in the air, his eyes fixed on his empty hands with an odd look on his face.
"Fact one: the only guns in this vault capable of penetrating my armour are those in my possession." John kept his voice cold and menacing, hoping the discourage things from getting worse. He really didn't want to slaughter the entire security force, it would be a waste of ammo. "Fact two: this pistol of mine has many times torn limbs off people in combat armour. Fact three: I have killed over two hundred people, and that's not counting monsters you can't even imagine..." He smiled at Paul, the man's eyes somehow getting even wider. "So question: You really think you and your pathetic little group of policemen can defeat me?"
"N...no?"
"Good answer." John pulled back and returned his weapons to their places, daring the officers to try something new by a mere glare. None made a move however. "Now...I can return at any time, believe me...so will you cause further trouble when I leave?" John chuckled, remembering Springvale and their tunnel. It would be difficult...but he could probably get through with enough effort. Not that he would probably have the time with so much else going on...but they didn't have to know that.
Paul sighed, pulling his hand away from his weapon. "No...we will do as the overseer commands, as always."
"That's admirable." John turned, his gaze making both officers there holster their weapons and literally jump away from the door, eyes averted in fear. "Now excuse me, got a new overseer to congratulate. Oh and Alphonse..." He glanced back, the old man didn't seem to register his name, eyes vacant. "...I'm impressed."
The walk back was short and uneventful, a few glares was enough to make the 'hidden' security officers scamper away, Paul's reserves obviously already understanding the new order of things despite not having been told of it yet. John smirked...rats always knew to communicate fear quickly...
Before he knew it he stood before Amata again, her face full of worry as she looked at him. Was it just him or were the other teens a little closer to the pair this time? No doubt listening in...John smiled tightly: "All has been arranged, Alphonse has stepped down as overseer and appointed Amata to become the new one."
The sighs of relief confirmed his suspicion and he glanced at the kids now sitting down by the walls, small smiles on their lips as they allowed themselves to relax. Amata though looked to be in quite a state of shock, her eyes vacant in a way reminiscent of her father. "I'm...overseer?"
"That's the gist of it, didn't even have to shoot someone." John shrugged. "I think he knew what needed to be done all along but couldn't bring himself to do that...you might want to talk to him later."
"Yes...later." Amata straightened a little, face alight with new purpose. "It'll be a little tense for a while...but I think I can get people to become one group again...and then we might open the vault and trade for such things we need...live again."
"I'm sure you can." John smiled.
Amata smiled back, pushing another rogue strand of hair back...was she blushing? "Y...yes...about that. We could use some help and since you've done so much for us..." She bit her lower lip, frowning as she tried to voice her idea. "I think I can make you welcome here again, you could be back where it's safe...with m...us." Her blush intensified as she hurriedly added: "Besides, we need a good guide to find our way through the wasteland and I'm sure you'd be perfect."
"That is a generous offer, and I'm sure you could manage to calm whatever hate others have of me..." John saw the hope in Amata's eyes, so innocent...when had she become so obvious to him? "But I cannot stay." Amata's shoulders dropped, her eyes betraying the pain she felt at his words. "I have other things that must be done, people who need me...I'm sorry."
"I...I see." Amata looked away, blinking furiously to remove some budding tears. "Perhaps...perhaps I should have known, this place seems too small for you now..." She made a move to say something else...then closed her mouth, pressing her lips tightly together.
John hesitated for a moment. "Here." The clasps to the pip-boy opened quickly, letting him slip it off his arm. It felt odd not to wear it...but he knew he didn't need it anymore. The only thing useful in it was the map...and that he already had in his head, as he did with all the entries of dangers and such. "I've made notes on all manner of things in my pip-boy, it has a map and even a journal..." Amata looked at him in shock, eyes darting to the pip-boy as if it was some sort of snake. "...but I don't feel that I need that anymore, you'll have far more use to it. Its password is 'Amata'."
"Oh John..." Amata took the offered item, now crying freely...why John wasn't really sure, but then again he'd never understood the opposite sex. "...I don't know what to say. Thank you..." She suddenly moved towards him, tiptoeing as she made a move for John's mouth.
Feeling a sudden bout of panic John grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her down...then he saw how Amata's face begun to crunch up again...forcing a smile he bent forward and placed a light kiss upon her forehead. "You're welcome." Stepping back he watched as Amata visibly struggled with her smile, her facial muscles trembling. "Now...I really must go on before I lose more daylight. Goodbye."
Resolutely turning John begun to march away...and forced himself not to heed the sound of Amata sobbing.