It was all nothing more than intimidation tactics, Vor reflected on the raft. They would have killed her in front of the others to instill fear and obedience and hopefully quell any idea of rebellion. She thought back to the gun pointed to her head and remembered how it had made her feel. It didn't scare her, rather it made her angry. She wasn't done. She had far too much left to do before she could die.
And yet some young kid had brought her freedom with his subservience. She had no idea how, apparently he was a charismatic little guy. And of course the Enclave leader had capitalised on that, too. Sexual humiliation to add to the humiliation of defeat, treating people as property.

"Two hundred years of civil rights progress undone in about the same amount of time. Figures." She muttered to herself. Morons, all of them.

Across from her stood some old man dressed in vault dweller attire, gripping his pistol. He'd made some big show of announcing who he was, pointing guns in faces and throwing down knives. Defeat did funny things to people. Some rolled over and became fatalistic, others got real noisy about rising again. The old man seemed to be doing the latter. Ironically it was a more American ideal than the Enclave's.
Vor Shinse, on the other hand, was annoyed. She hadn't been there to fight, she'd been there to trade. She hadn't been defeated because she hadn't actually been defending anything, she'd only wanted to get rid of the attackers that were preventing her from trading her haul. Still, people like that? They bothered her. They might have thought she was going to spread tales of the big, scary Enclave, but she knew what words could do. Tell a certain story the right way and it can have a very different effect on people.

Still, she hoped she'd at least given that sniper a couple of burns to remember her by.