Mutatis Mutandis 18

The vault had been overtaken within a matter of minutes. In two, the invaders had taken the main level. In five, they had the Overseer's office and Vault Security headquarters. For all the preparations the young woman had claimed they had tried to make, the Vault had folded up like a wet towel. Their leader, made up of the figurehead, or 'Overseer', had been locked up in the cell. The rest had simply dropped to their knees. They didn't have much choice; the average wasteland child knew more about violence than they did.

The Vault's affluence sickened her. Smooth, warm, clean beds. Showers and food whenever they wanted. Standard education. Entire archives full of movies and media the Brotherhood had only dreamt of…

And purified water, whenever and wherever they felt like drinking it.

The Vault, despite the cramped corridors, was a paradise. And its residents were clueless. The civilians were like sheep. Blind, ignorant, docile sheep. Oblivious to the outside world and the everyday risks associated with living there. Only one of them, named Susie Mack, had shown any sign of understanding. The young woman was only a little younger than Sarah herself. She had apparently done some scouting around the D.C. outskirts, and at least knew her way around a weapon. But the rest? Clueless.

The thought had struck Sarah that Jason had grown up here. How ironic it was that he, above all others, all the wasteland natives, had transformed into the Lone Wanderer.

Anger surged through her yet again. Damn him! And his fucking code! She hated life in the vault, but no matter how many threats, how much time and effort she had put into getting the door controls repaired, there was nothing anyone could do, not vault dweller, nor scribe. The door was shut, and Sarah knew that one day soon, she'd have to grapple with the very real possibility that she'd be spending the rest of her life in the cramped bunker, but at that moment, she was refusing to accept it as fact.

Instead she'd put her time into exploring the Vault which Jason had called Home. She had visited his room. It was smaller than the jail cell, and had two beds with a trunk in the corner. A picture sat on a low shelf. It showed a young Jason with a BB gun strapped to his back, and James Howlett at his shoulder, smiling proudly.

There were other mementoes scattered around the room. A small cardboard children's book with the words 'Your SPECIAL!' emblazoned on the cover. A small teddybear, a toy Nuka-Cola truck, and a few books. Yet the only time Sarah completely felt sure she was looking at one of Jason's belongings was when she stared down at the red bandana she'd taken to carrying around with her.

She wasn't sure entirely why she kept it. It wasn't as if she was anything but furious at the man. Yet she knew he was doing his best to save the wasteland, and having it around at all times seemed somehow to be a show of support. A way to fight alongside him even though she couldn't.

Either way, scanning through his room had left her more curious than ever about his past. The tiny apartment seemed so far removed from the Lone Wanderer who had locked them all away that she had not even feel guilty about snooping through it. She knew that the Wanderer wouldn't care. Jason might have, at some point. But the Wanderer wouldn't.

Yet she also knew that eventually her wanderings and wonderings would lead her to one place and one place only. The one link she was able to confirm. The one person who knew it all and Sarah knew that the brunette would be just as curious as she was.

So she found herself peering through the vault jail's narrow window. Sarah was carrying no sidearm. Just two glasses of fresh water.

The young woman was still curled up on the cot, her arms around her knees. She'd been kept away from the other vault residents. The cell had at least one armed wastelander guard at all times. Rothchild, Glade, and Simms had banded together to form a provisional government of sorts, taking advice from Susie Mack, and the Vault's resident teacher. It appeared that the Vault blamed the brunette for the sudden invasion, and Sarah had ordered her locked away as much for her own protection as for the wasteland's coup attempt, and the Brunette was to stay there until things had calmed down.

"You going to go in, or just sit there and stare?" the guard asked. Sarah glanced at him. He was a relatively pale man, an unusual occurrence in the wasteland. He had red hair and a roughly groomed goatee. An occasional nervous tick spoke volumes about the man's past. He either was, or at some point had been, a drug addict. Jet, probably.

"Open it up." Sarah ordered.

The man stared at her. He said, "Say Please."

"I'm sorry, Please open the door." Sarah replied, not in the mood to open up an argument. She had forgotten that most of the Wastelanders stuck in the vault with her were not members of the Brotherhood of Steel, and not bound by their codes.

The man turned to the console beside him, and a few moments later, the door slid open. Being careful not to spill a single drop of the precious liquid, Sarah stepped through and looked to the brunette. The young woman had raised her head, but otherwise hadn't moved.

She was dressed in a blue and yellow vault suit, of the same sort Jason had been wearing the first time Sarah had ever seen him, though his had been altered. A shoulder pad had been added, as well as a few other items, transforming it into a set of light armour.

"Here to kill me?" the woman asked blankly, though there was an undercurrent in her tone. Hope, perhaps? Or acceptance. Either way, she was obviously in a very bad state, and Sarah felt a small amount of compassion for her.

The door slid shut, as Sarah shook her head. "No."

"Oh." The woman lowered her head, resting on her knees.

Sarah glanced around the room and spotted a chair which had been planted near a set of lockers. She set her glasses down on the floor, dragged the chair over and took a seat in front of the brunette.

"Your name is Amata." She said, proffering a glass.

"Yep." The woman did not even look up.

Sarah said, "Tell me about Jason."

The woman's grip around her knees tightened until the knuckles were white, but aside from that, she gave no indication she had even heard the request.

"Look, stop moping." Sarah ordered. "For you information, he screwed us both. I'm locked in here, just as much as you are!"

"I can't tell you." The woman told her miserably. "I obviously don't know him anymore."

"But you did." Sarah prompted.

Amata looked up with tears in her eyes, and Sarah was struck by the young woman's beauty. The men and women of the capital wasteland lived hard lives, and the stress showed in sunburnt skin, wrinkled faces and hard eyes. Amata's skin was smooth and unblemished; her eyes innocent. Almost childlike, in a way.

"He was my best friend! More than that! He was… we were going to… This is his home! How could he do this to us?!"

"Anything that might benefit the Capital Wasteland at any cost to himself or anyone outside the Capital Wasteland. That's his Modus Operandi." Sarah explained. "This Vault was an expendable asset."

Amata's mouth, which had been hanging open up until that point, abruptly snapped shut. "Expendable? It's his home!"

"Was." Sarah corrected. She frowned slightly. "Do you even know what's going on up there? I mean… have you ever seen a Supermutant? Do you know what that is? Do you even care?"

"What does it matter? This is Vault 101!" Amata declared. "His home! He grew up here. His dad-"

"-Is dead."

For the second time in as many minutes, Amata's mouth dropped open.

"…Has been for four years." Sarah told her.

"Oh my god…" the woman's hand covered her mouth, stifling her look of shocked horror. "How?"

"Died." Sarah elaborated further, shaking the glass slightly. A drop of the precious cool water splashed over the edge and landed on her hand. "Giving this to the Wasteland. Pure water. I can't believe it in here… up there it's the most important thing... But here… you bath in it! Unbelievable!"

"We always have." Amata said, frowning. "What happened to James?"

"He was killed by the Enclave when they tried to take control of his Purifier. Jason was there. He watched his dad die."

"Why didn't he… Susie didn't… no one… no one told me."

"What, no one handed you reports?" Sarah asked. "Or did you just not read them. Perhaps you were too busy bathing."

Amata ignored her. "But I talked to him. When the vault reopened. We let him back in. I asked for his help…"

"What did he say?"

The woman let out a depressed bark of laughter, and finally took the glass Sarah had been offering. She took a sip before speaking. "Not much. But he gave me this look. The same one his dad would give us when we were complaining about Brotch's homework. Like: 'You think your problems matter?'."

"They don't." Sarah observed shortly, sipping her own glass. Snippets of her nightmare at Point Lookout flashed before her eyes. Small moments of fleeting terror and the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. "It is so much bigger than you know."

"My world isn't."

"Jason's is. And I'm going to ask again: Do you know what a Supermutant is?"

"Big green monsters." Amata said. "Susie saw some from a distance the last time she was out. She told me about them."

"Yeah? Well they're everywhere up there. They've wiped out most of the Capital Wasteland. Jason put us in here as a last resort. He wanted to make sure someone survived. There's a second apocalypse happening as we speak." Struck by a sudden surge of anger, she tossed her half-full glass to the floor, spilling water across the perforated panels. There was a gentle hum and a whistling noise as the vault's auto-vac system kicked in, whisking away the liquid to be recycled and pumped back into the system.

Sarah rose to her feet, her hand closing around Jason's Bandana. "While you were bathing in that water, my brothers, and my father and everything I ever knew and fought for was being torn apart! All my friends, my family, they're all gone. And my home is rubble. And you don't care just so long as this fucking vault stays untouched! And Jason's out there trying to put it all back together. He's the only one that can. You could have helped! We needed help! But you stayed closed! You deserved this!"

Amata looked up at her, hints of defiance creeping into her expression. "You want me to apologize?"

Sarah's words came tumbling out faster than she could keep track. "I want you to understand that this world doesn't revolve around you! I want you to understand why he did this! I want to fight! I want that door open! I need to…" she stopped. "I want to kill them for what they did. I want to watch the fucking muties die and he stole that from me!"

Amata watched her with an indifferent expression, and Sarah knew that nothing she had said had stuck. All of her words had simply been brushed away. The vault dweller said, "Why did you come talk to me? Did you actually want something, or did you just want someone to yell at? Let me tell you something, I have it worse than you!"

"You wha-"

"Shut up!" Amata ordered, rising to her feet. She was a few inches taller than Sarah, but it felt like a few feet. "You have it worse than me! No, I don't know what it's like out there because I've never been out there! This is my home. My entire world. If you step out the door you can still rebuild! Me?" she gestured at the windows, "Do you honestly think anyone in here is ever going to trust me again? Do you think they'll want me around anymore? The moment you leave, I'll be thrown out! Just for trusting somebody! Just for trying to do my best!"

Sarah crossed her arms in defiance and smiled wickedly.

She said, "Well I guess now you know how Jason felt."

It was pain which forced Jason awake. He groaned, feeling sharp chunks of concrete digging into the small of his back. He reached up and rubbed his face, opening his eyes and discovering that he was in pitch darkness. He waved his hands in front of his face, trying desperately to make out the shapes.

What had happened? There had been a black Supermutant. A stealthy supermutant, but that was a contradiction in terms…

It had tackled him and then… water?

A feeling of emptiness stole through him, and he cursed himself as he ran events back further. Dogmeat was gone. Probably dead. The animal had always charged in first, one of the many reasons Jason always left him behind. There was no room for planning or strategy. Yet the dog had probably saved his life.

He sat up, taking stock. The ground was hard. Tiled floor covered in debris. Add that to the ringing silence, and he knew immediately that he was in a subway station. He was still wearing his leather duster. All his clothing was intact, though his grenades and sidearm were missing. Feeling blindly, he found his assault rifle lying beside him.

It didn't make sense; how did he get into a subway station? He'd been trapped underwater.

Someone had pulled him out. Whether it was a rescue or not remained to be seen. He reached over to the Pipboy on his left arm and flicked the light on. His immediate area was bathed in a bright glow, but it spread enough light that he could make out the enormously bulky figure towering over him, just beyond the pale glow.

A voice echoed through the darkness, though Jason couldn't make out any facial movement. The sound was canny and harsh, having been recycled through speakers, and Jason realized that the insectoid curves were in fact the plates of an enormous and exotic set of Power Armour.

"Took you long enough." The figure said. "Thought I was going to have to fight this whole war by myself."

Its eyes lit up, pale ovals glowing green and yellow, the sight prompting one word to score painful gashes across Jason's muddled brain.

Enclave!

Rage filled him. The Wanderer's rifle snapped upwards, and he pulled the trigger, his crosshairs centered between the glowing orbs. There was no rewarding kickback. No silenced shots. Just a pathetic click. It was at that moment, Jason realized the gun was lighter than it should have been…

The figure's arm moved and one of Jason's assault rifle magazines landed in the circle.

"Try it now." the figure suggested dryly. As Jason loaded his weapon, it spoke further, saying: "I was going to put your safety on too, but I didn't want to embarrass you… much."

Jason rose to his feet, the circle of light spreading, and revealing the brown and black armoured exoskeleton. The giant stood about seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique visible even underneath the armour.

"Gonna try and shoot me again?" it asked.

Instead, Jason moved quickly, flicking off his Pipboy light, and dousing them both in darkness. It was his arena now, and the brief moments of light had given him a good idea of the layout.

He silently moved backwards, watching those glowing eyes, and crouched beside a broken escalator, leveling his rifle at the figure's head. He pulled the trigger, feeling the familiar kick against his shoulder. The three bullets flew straight and true, hitting the armoured man in the center of the forehead. All three shots promptly bounced off and ricocheted into the walls and ceiling.

"Seriously?" the figure asked. The power-armoured giant sounded bored. Even through the speakers, his dry sarcasm was palpable. "Oh no! Darkness! Your greatest ally! Whatever shall I do?"

Floodlights blazed, bathing every inch of the underground chamber in swelteringly bright light, blinding the Wanderer. He crawled backwards, hearing the pneumatic hiss, whine, and clanking of the power-armour as the figure neared him. The purple spots in front of his eyes cleared just in time to see his opponent's enormous palm close over his face.

"Come'ere, you slippery little ninja!" the figure ordered, picking the Wanderer up by the face and slamming him into the side of the escalator. The Perforator was ripped away, and Jason heard it clatter to the floor. "I'm running out of patience. This is the second time I've pulled you out of the fire, and I'm about ready to pack it in."

Jason tried to speak, but smothered beneath the armoured gauntlet; he could barely breathe, let alone respond. He was busy enough trying to hold himself up and prevent his neck from taking his body's full weight.

"I know why you shot me." The figure said, oblivious to his kicks and frantic scrambling. "And I'm as much Enclave as you are a Regulator." It tugged at his duster. "Alright?" it paused, then added. "Tap the gauntlet once if you understand."

Jason slapped the figure's forearm, and it dropped him, and he collapsed into a crumpled, coughing heap. The armoured man set both hands on his hips and continued. "Listen up, cause we don't have all day, and there's a lot to do. This whole attack- are you trying to run?"

It bent over, snatching at Jason, who was trying to crawl underneath the escalator. The figure gripped him by the ankles and dragged him backwards until they were both clear of the escalator. Then it spun, the armour's augmented strength allowing him to swinging Jason around into a concrete pillar. It dropped him again and planted a crushingly heavy boot on his chest.

"Just hold still and listen for a second. I don't take bullshit. You try this again, and I'll hang you upside down by the ankles until you decide to behave. Even if that takes a few days. Understand, Wanderer?"

"I have a name!" Jason snarled through clenched teeth. Pain raced through his shoulder where he had impacted with the unyielding concrete pillar.

"Yeah. I know. 'Wanderer'. It's what people call you."

"My father called me Jason."

"And mine called me Narg." The giant responded. "…can't say I ever forgave him for it. Not till the enclave killed him, and kidnapped my entire village."

They stared at each other, Jason's slack-jawed gaze centered on the armoured helmet. He couldn't recall the enclave ever kidnapping a village. Not in the capital wasteland, anyway…

The figure bent down, bringing its face closer to his level. "And then I did what people like you and I do best, Wanderer. The same thing we're going to have to do now, if you want your wasteland to survive."

So I'm a little worried that the Sarah/Amata conversations are going to play out like the Miranda Lawson/Hannah Shepard chapters from The Fourth Option. But explaining Jason's background does serve a purpose in this story, and hopefully it'll pay off later.

If any of you have any ideas as to which parts of Jason's story they should go over, please let me know either in or review or preferably in a private message.

…

And about Jason's scene, I squee'd. Just a little. Other than that, I'm not saying a damned thing.

We're in Krow Blood's territory now, and shit just got real.