Chapter 160: Chapter 155

On the surface of it, Vault 93 initially stood out among those in the know due to the high profile names assigned to it. They were all women; the lucky wives, mistresses and daughters of industry and political big shots who won the lottery into the cushy, extravagant bunker.

 

Then Minny Caldwell, fiance and former personal secretary to a senator, got her hands on the Vault Tec papers her soon-to-be husband accidentally left behind in her room. She saw their true intentions, as well as the other half of the vault populace.

 

Vault 93 was not where the rich hid away their precious partners and daughters from the apocalypse. It was where they disposed of their ‘troublesome liabilities’ while they enjoyed ‘peaceful’ placements in other bunkers. When the time came, the women and girls would become part of the lavish furnishings of Vault 93 for the serial rapists, sadists and deviants taken from various high-security facilities around the country.

 

Needless to say, Minny took the revelations poorly, but her cunning mind immediately began working to use the horrific knowledge to her advantage. It took months of intrigue for her plan to fall into place. Spreading her legs for a few clueless Vault Tec execs allowed her to make some subtle changes to Vault 93’s resource allocation. Some calls were made to the women on the list to create a cabal of some of the most powerful women in the United States of America. Favors were collected to have the right people at the right places.

 

When the bombs finally fell, most of the women assigned to Vault 93 were there with their important belongings. Guns, tools, gadgets and more were dragged in by the sackful instead of clothes, perfume and other common ‘feminine’ items. The more expertly educated among the cabal had organized a checklist that every woman contributed to.

 

The surprised overseer was welcomed by Minny revealing what she knew, and then he was thrown to the tender mercies of the other highly displeased women. The intake of hardcore criminals did not make it at all, their buses tragically suffering accidents involving bombs or protectron lasers. 

 

But the women would not be the only ones to populate their vault. They’d need servants and playthings to while away the apocalypse after all. So select paramours found themselves diverted to the hill housing Vault 93, alongside buses of mentally deficient men that were meant for another vault. The former would enjoy the suites with the womenfolk, while the latter were housed in the less…comfortable section of the vault, where the women would’ve been forced to live in before the coup. 

 

Thankfully for them, Minny and her cabal were benevolent rulers, and had the cages and pens replaced with bunkbeds instead.

 

Once the vault was fully sealed away, Vault 93 had its matriarchal ruling caste, favored male toys, and a large pool of not-too-intelligent, highly obedient servile caste. Minny became the first High Queen of the Vault.

 

The women of the Queendom of Vault 93 settled into a comfortable life underground. The modifications to the vault had meant that they would be self sufficient for several generations at least, with even some of their more luxurious wants met.

 

Vault 93 opened their vaults just a few decades after the bombs fell. The surface world was a hellscape as the brighter folk had expected, but thankfully their little hideaway was out of the way enough that the forest around them only looked deathly ill, not turned into incinerated matchsticks.

 

Most of the menfolk were evicted to the surface, with only the bare minimum provided for them to establish a shanty town just outside the vault. Only the consorts and favored sons got to enjoy vault life with the women, while the rest would only gain the privilege when it came time for their shifts.

 

Within two generations, the Queendom evolved into a hidden raider fort, a boogeyman to the nearby settlements and passing caravans that swept in at the dead of night to steal away children and young adults. 

 

High Queen Lorraine was proud of her ancestry, of what was achieved. The Queendom, her Queendom now, had cast off the shackles of piggish men and flipped the tables on them. She lounged in her throne of gold and steel as she held her court and received her weekly news from the outside world.

 

“...meant that we can safely assume the trade route is now effectively dried up,” Duchess Sarah reported.

 

Lorraine kept her temper in check. Some overblown force in the east was making such a scene that even out here, her realm was losing trade routes as the caravans no longer found her lands worth risking. They’d have to rely on the yearly raids then to keep their breeder stocks healthy, which was…unoptimal for her vault’s growth.

 

“Is there anything else, Duchess?” the queen asked evenly, as her fingers idly beckoned to the shadows. Duchess Sarah shook her head and withdrew in a fluid motion, just as a hulking brute lumbered and crawled towards the throne.

 

The High Queen drew in a breath, stood up, and then with a yell vented her frustrations on her mutant stress toy. She got in a few good kicks, some punches, and almost risked her manicures raking her fingers across the dumb male’s face. The news vexed her that badly.

 

Just over a minute went by before she calmed down enough to slump back onto her throne, shoving the lump of meat back into the shadows with a good kick. Her half-brother obediently slinked off out of sight before Lorraine returned her focus to her court.

 

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“How are our stocks doing?”

 

Court Biologist Anna cleared her throat. “We have enough breedable ferals to safely risk their next generation of offspring. The number of brutes are still in the green, and there’s a rebound coming for our lowborn.”

 

“Good,” Countess Josie interrupted with a curt nod. “Hopefully there’ll be no need for…necessary sacrifices in our generation.”

 

Even Lorraine agreed wholeheartedly at that. So long as the Queendom’s population remained high enough, none of the nobleborn would need to debase themselves for the good of the vault, like her late mother and her court experienced. Her nameless half-brother was a testament to that sacrifice.

 

Having to…endure the misshapen meatheads to avoid a crashing cascade… Lorraine didn’t know if she would be as strong as the old hag if it came to that. Her nameless half-brother was a testament to that sacrifice.

 

Toy males were at a premium now after the disastrous STD outbreak a few generations ago, and most of the feral men on the surface were too dirty and irradiated to be worth anything other than breeding stock. The feral women were the same, though at least their daughters would have the honor of joining the peasant caste. Though with how little favored toy sons running around, the next generation of nobility bred from the peasants would be very limited indeed.

 

Troubling, but not too permanent thankfully. Spymaster Wylah had sources guaranteeing a slave caravan leaving the Pitt in a few months that would pass near the realm. Her cousin was an annoying bitch, but Lorraine fully trusted the cocksucker enough to believe her sources’ claims.

 

High Queen Lorraine sat straighter as she waved in the next petitioner. “Now then, who’s-”

 

The throne room turned red as a dreaded wail sounded. Lorraine shot up to her feet, her eyes wide even as her mind was a confused mess at experiencing the ancient alarm system going off for the first time. “Who dares?” she cried out, her fury banishing the rising panic in her court.

 

The growing sound of stomping of boots heralded the arrival of the Amazonian Knights, their power armor sullied by dirt and foliage. Amy, the Knights’ leader hastily spoke. “Your majesty, an enemy force is headed this way.”

 

“To our vault?”

 

How can this be? The Queendom was well hidden, enough that it had been untouched by numerous wannabe raids and invasions.

 

“Yes, your majesty. They approach by foot and by air, from multiple routes, and there is little doubt of their destination.” Amy faltered for a moment, her gaze going up to meet Lorraine’s own. The queen saw fear for the first time in her champion’s eyes. “Majesty… I’ve sent out our brute reavers, all of them. None have returned. The enemy comes closer by the second, and I doubt that the brutes menials I’ve deployed would slow them too much.”

 

Lorraine crushed her own rising terror and swept her steely gaze across the nobles and knights. “To arms, my sisters! Break out the laser rifles and rippers! Empty our brutes pens and arm the toys and peasants!” Thankfully, her words steeled the nobles’ resolve, and Lorraine received grim nods.

 

“The Queendom of Vault 93 has endured for centuries, and will endure for centuries more! Let’s tear out the dicks of these ferals!”

 

They mustered with admirable haste, beating the generations-old drill records. The nobility of Vault 93 stomped out in bedecked suits of power armor, leading the mob of peasants and toys. Enemy contact was expected to arrive within an hour at worst, so Lorraine focused the defense wholly on the vault’s entrance.

 

Out of family obligations, she gave her half-brother a sledgehammer. Useless male he might be, but he still had some royal blood to be above scrap weapons and sharpened fence posts. If he survived and did well enough, maybe she’d even let him breed a few peasants.

 

High Queen Lorraine did not get to finish that idle thought, as the skies beyond the cavern entrance darkened, and as the women braced against the barricades and the brutes growled in agitation, the silhouettes of the feral outsiders’ first wave began to filter in.

 

The Queendom of Vault 93 would not last long enough to see the second wave.

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