A Fairly Reasonable Crashout (RWBY Adam SI) ch 20 (NEW)

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He lay on her couch, sleeping and still. His stomach rose and fell with every breath, his expression a mask of near death. Medea placed a hand on his forehead. Behind her, Sienna and Ashina stood, the former glancing around in awe at the house. Medea clicked her tongue as she withdrew her hand. "He is clearly alive, and breathing." 

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes settled on Sienna. "What happened?" 

Sienna and Ashina shared a look before she turned back to Medea. "The SDC happened." 

"That's rather vague," Medea commented, though she had an inkling of what might have happened. 

"They protested for better conditions, the SDC disagreed," Sienna answered, recalling her conversations with Adam. She did not want to reveal anymore than she had to, feeling that his actual reasons were for him to divulge and she had no right to do that. "They sent in a whole battlegroup to suppress them. There were no survivors." 

Gasps echoed from outside Medea's windows. The three turned to see Medea's farmhands standing by, and staring into the living room. Medea stood up, vein pulsing in annoyance. "Oi! Get back to work, you gossips!" 

The farmhands scattered quickly, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Medea sighed, then turned back to her nephew. Her shoulders felt heavy all of a sudden, and she needed to sit back down. No survivors, the Tigress claimed. Well, except for her nephew, apparently. 

"If it's any consolation, your nephew kicked ass," Ashina offered. "There was a massive explosion that cut an Atlesian destroyer in half. It was absolutely ama-""

Sienna shot him a look of warning. 

Ashina shut up, feeling chastised. 

​The Tigress continued. "Your brother lives, however. Him and your nephew's in laws. We found you from the records they left behind at our camp. if it wasn't for that, we would have been on our way to Menagerie instead." 

​Medea's head sprang up. Their aura of alofness, their guardedness. "You're White Fang," she said simply. 

Sienna nodded. "We are," she wouldn't hide that detail in front of Adam's own aunt. "I must state in certain terms that we did not have a hand in their protests. It began organically, and we only really heard about it when we tapped into SDC comms and overheard them talking about a protest in Nicolasburg." 

​Medea stared deep into Sienna's soul, and sought for any instances of lying. But she could not detect any. The Tigress was telling the truth, Medea felt. She had an inkling in smelling when people were trying to bullshit her, hence her distrust of the SDC representative. With the Tigress however...she felt that Sienna wasn't telling her the entire picture but she did not mind that. She would want to hear it straight from Adam when he woke up. 

"I believe you," Medea said, running a thumb up Adam's cheek. "I..." 

Sienna and Ashina paused, listening fully to the cow faunus woman. 

"Ercole wasn't exactly subtle in his letters," Medea revealed. "He told me how Nicolasburg degenerated in time. I told him to get the hell out of Nicolasburg way too many times and come live here." 

"Why didn't he?" Ashina asked. "This place is plenty peaceful." 

"It is," Medea nodded. "But work here doesn't exactly pay." 

That was the crux of it. Ercole was a young bull with a wife and a child. He wanted to provide for them on his own. Sienna and Ashina glanced at each other, their eyes glinting with familiarity of the same old story. Medea caressed Adam's cheek again, her heart falling with each careful stroke. He was so young, yet she could feel the pain rolling off him. What had he experienced in those mines? What had he endured against the SDC? 

"I asked him, you know," Medea continued, her voice edging on crying and holding back. "Let your son grow up here. Let him taste the air, the sun, and free country. A mine...it is no place for a child." 

​Ashina's eyes felt wet, and he glanced down at the floor. He felt that pain deeply. The scars on his own family, they would never hear. Sienna closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, and trying to calm the rage from burning inside her soul. 

"Why didn't he?" Sienna asked instead, distracting herself with that question. If it could be helped, why didn't Ercole send Adam to grow up here? 

​Medea laughed hollowly, surprising Sienna. This was hardly the place for jokes. But Medea stood up, and made her way to a low table where a pitcher and some cups sat. She took it, and poured wine into them, before offering her and Ashina it. Sienna refused, and Ashina accepted. Medea glanced down at Adam, and drank. When she finished, she held the cup close. 

​"Forgive me for not divulging family matters," Medea replied. "But Ercole had very good reasons not to let his boy grow here." 

​Fair enough, Sienna felt. She was not going to pry into that any deeper than she had to. "I won't pry," Sienna promised. "I would like to assure you though that last I checked, Mr Taurus and his party are safe and are making their way here. They're being transported by my people." 

"You two got here fast," Medea pointed out. 

"Mr Taurus is suffering from Dust Lung," Sienna revealed. "His condition doesn't exactly make for swift travel." 

Medea's eyes widened, then she sighed, again. She reached for the pitcher, and poured into it for another deep sip. "He had suspected he was going to get it, sooner or later. Miners have a timed existence, and Ercole breathed that stuff for years." 

​Her fingers tightened around the cup, and it cracked. Ashina winced. 

"Now that you've gotten my nephew here," Medea said calmly, her fingers relaxing. "What do you two intend to do?" 

"I had hoped to stay and recruit him," Sienna revealed. She was not going to sugar-coat it, and trying to lie to his aunt seemed like a bad idea. "With his testimony, we could nail the SDC right where it hurts." 

Ashina nodded, his fists clenching.  "Yeah! Those motherless sons of whores are going to answer for what they did to Nicolasburg!" 

Medea's expression shifted. "You want to sue the SDC?" 

Ashina blinked. Sienna stiffened, ears angling back a fraction. Medea set the cracked cup down, wine leaking slowly through the fracture and staining the table dark. "The SDC is a monolith. They're expanding all over. They own the mines, the supply lines, the judges, and the Atlesian Army." 

Sienna met her gaze, jaw tight. "And that means we do nothing?"

"No, what I am saying is you are going on an uphill battle," Medea explained. "I have seen the White Fang operate through the years. It cannot exactly boast any big successes." 

Anger flared inside Sienna. Real, tangible anger. But not because of what Medea said. No, she was angry because it was the truth. For all their campaigning, their protests, their strikes...what had they done? Their people still languish in the mines, many faunus still work dirt-poor wages. Nicolasburg was the ultimate crux of their inability to get anything done. 

Ashina, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. "How...how about letting Adam decide what he wants to do?" 

The two women turned their attention to Ashina who winced. But Medea nodded. "You're right with that mark, at least," the cow woman sighed. She walked around, intent for a towel to wipe away the stain on her low table. 

As she cleaned, she spoke up again. "I will be happy to let you guys stay, for awhile. You protected my family and I owe you two big time. If there's anything I can do to pay you back, ask." 

​She set the damp towel down. "I warn you two however that if you thought you could escape the SDC, you arrived in the worst possible time." 

Sienna's anger faded, replaced with a deep suspicion. "What do you mean?" 

Medea gestured towards the stack of files laying nearby. "You see that? The SDC's offering a contract for the landowners over here. Something about buying our land because they want to set up a mine nearby." 

Sienna stared at the stack of papers. "May I read it?" 

"You a lawyer?" Medea asked, eyebrow raised. 

"I graduated Political Science," Sienna revealed. 

Of course she would be, Medea inwardly snorted. She turned to Ashina, waiting for him to speak. "I got a degree in Economics?" he offered. 

"And I have led the Atlesian White Fang for two years," Sienna continued, pushing her credentials forward. "If there's anyone else who understands how the SDC writes their contracts, that's me." 

"Alright, then," Medea shrugged. "Feel free." 

She was still intent to let a lawyer read it, but if Sienna wanted to, she was not going to stop her. The Tigress nodded, and turned for the papers. "This will take some time," Sienna spoke up. 

"It's not as if we are going anywhere," Medea joked. "Feel free to sit in the dining table. I'll get you some snacks while you read." 

"Thank you, Madam," Sienna offered. 

"Oh gods above, just call me Medea," she insisted. She was still in her late thirties, damn it. 

"And I, Sienna," the tigress offered again. 

"And me Malik!" Ashina supplied. 

The papers were scattered across the table, their crisp white pages clean and sterile. Sienna hunched over them, her amber eyes scanning every typed word with sharp focus. As expected, the contract was dense, legalistic, and deliberately convoluted, just like most SDC documents. Beside her, Ashina sat with equal concentration, the two quietly exchanging pages and muttering their thoughts as they dissected each clause.

Medea entered the room, carrying a tray balanced carefully in her hands. On it were two sandwiches stuffed with cold turkey, cheese, tomatoes, ham, and mayonnaise. She set the tray down near the pair, but neither of them acknowledged it. Their attention remained fixed on the contract in front of them. Every now and then, they paused at certain pages, their low voices adding to the tension in the room. If Medea was being honest, it made her uneasy.

Just as she was about to ask something, a loud knock echoed through the house. Medea blinked, startled, and turned toward the door.

"Medea! You in there?" a rough voice called out.

"Yeah, I'm here, Chua! What's going on?" Medea called back as she stood. She glanced at the White Fang members briefly, signaling for them to relax.

"Auld MacDonald is calling for everyone to gather at his place! We're doing a live reading of the contract those Atlesians are offering!" Chua shouted.

"When?" Medea asked, glancing between the papers on the table and her front door.

"Now!"

Medea tapped her fingers against the edge of the table, considering her options. She turned to Sienna and Ashina, then back toward the door. "I'll be there soon!" she called out.

"Alright then! See you there!" Chua replied, his voice fading as he walked away.

Medea sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Looks like I'll have to head out."

"Can we come with you?" Sienna asked. Her tone was polite, but there was a hint of determination in her eyes. "I'd like to observe the meeting."

"You could, but someone needs to stay here and watch Adam," Medea pointed out.

"I'll stay," Ashina offered immediately. "I can look after the house and your nephew."

Medea nodded, satisfied with the arrangement. "Alright then. My man Lee is my second in command. If you need anything, just ask him."

And thus, they left. Medea supported herself with her staff, and Sienna walked briskly by her side. As they walked, an air of uncertainty gripped the air. Farmers stood by their gates, gossiping to each other. Sienna had a hood over her head, her eyes scanning the folk around. Many humans were there, but some were faunus too. 

"What's wrong?" Medea asked, walking. 

"There are faunus owners here," Sienna said simply, the implication there. 

"Ah," Medea understood. "Some bought their land, immigrants from outside. Others inherited theirs from marriage." 

"I see," Sienna said. Medea did have the aura of a married woman. That and she still wore a wedding band around her finger. "And they accepted it?" 

"Not quite, not at first," Medea laughed. "But time and necessity breaks down things. In the wilds, you gotta work together." 

"I sense an or, there," Sienna said. 

"Or you'll die," Medea finished. 

How enlightened, Sienna thought. 

Auld MacDonald's farm was a quick walk away, standing steadfast against the open expanse. The house was a weathered wooden frame with faded red and yellow paint. Nearby, a barn leaned slightly with age, its red paint faded to a muted rust, while a few smaller outbuildings clustered around like loyal companions. The fields stretched wide, the mooing of cows heavy in the wind, tails swishing lazily at unseen flies. They watched the gathering of folk with uncaring expressions, chewing lazily as Sienna and Medea joined a crowd sheltering underneath a tall cypress. 

The aformentioned farmer himself was old, sitting on a chair behind a table, his expression grim. On the table, the papers. Sienna followed Medea standing by at the corner of the crowd, their voices low and murmuring until MacDonald took a bell, and rang it. 

"Alright, alright, settle down, you cucks!" MacDonald cried out. There was a slight accent to his voice, and betrayed decades of work and toil. The murmuring died slowly.

"He's charming," Sienna whispered to Medea who snorted. 

"Now, anyone of you actually read this thing before me?" the farmer asked. "Raise yer hands!" 

A few lifted it. Sienna raised hers. 

"Good! You all can read!" MacDonald offered, earning some laughs. But his expression was anything but humorous. "Now, I am going to read out this damn contract, and you lot better listen!" 

The crowd leaned in and MacDonald cleared his throat. The crowd listened. 

And scratched their heads. 

MacDonald finished, and glanced at each one of them. "Did you all get any of that?" 

"Uh....yeah?" a farmer cried out. 

"Is that so?" MacDonald challenged. "Well, why don't you tell the class what it was all about?" 

The farmer hesitated. Sienna glanced at him, then turned towards MacDonald. "Your lands will be used for rail and storage and processing facility. If you sell, which would be paid with a flat fee, they will gain everything."

The crowd turned towards her. Sienna continued, uncaring of their stares. "You can also choose to accept a contract to move into a SDC partnership. You will be provided seeds, a home, and land to rent." 

The farmers paused. 

"That doesn't sound so bad?" one of them offered. 

"Oh, it doesn't," MacDonald agreed. "It sounds nice and all, Philip. But say, how much land do you have?" 

"150 hectares!" Philip boasted as he stood up. "I got it from my family. Why?" 

"Well, the SDC is offering you five thousand lien! For everything!" MacDonald explained. "Your potatoes, your corn, your machine equipment, your cows, and sheep!" 

Philip blinked. MacDonald turned back to them, his expression angry. "This is a flat fee, for everyone!" 

As anger rolled through the crowd, Sienna was observant, watching them all. Some were angrier than most, insulted most likely. But some were quiet. 

"Now, if they want our lands, they better make their offer good!" MacDonald continued. "We work hard here, we feed Mistral and other towns! I dunno about you, but the mere fact that they found their mine and want to build over us means we are in a nice position to ask a little bit more! I am not going to give up 228 hectares of my own land for five thousand lien! That, my friends, is bullshit!" 

A round of agreement left their lips. "Why do they even need us to leave?" another farmer cried. "I mean, it's not as if they're going to build a whole damn industrial complex over here?" 

Another round of agreement left their lips. 

​"So, you know what I say?" MacDonald cried out. "I say, we get the SDC over, and make them understand that their deal is worthless! And if they are going to drive us out, might as well use honey!" 

A roar of triumph left their lips. Medea was silent through it all, taking in the energy. Out of curiosity, she glanced at Sienna. The Tigress staring at some farmers, their faces less enthusiastic than others. As MacDonald organized a reply, Sienna took the moment to slip out. Medea followed, their exit ignored by the others. 

"Is something wrong?" Medea asked, the Tigress cresting over a small mound overlooking the farmers. 

"You lot live in a far too peaceful place," Sienna commented. 

"Well, it is the wilds, you know. We only get Grimm attacks ever now and then," Medea laughed. Her expression stilled as Sienna remained guarded. 

"I was leading to something," Sienna warned, her arms crossed as she directed her gaze towards the crowd, laughing and joking with each other. "Your people have no idea what the SDC is like. They do not negotiate."

"To me, it just sounds like you're trying to be political here, Sienna," Medea replied. 

​To her surprise, Sienna snorted. She took a breath, and shook her head. "You'll see," Sienna declared. 

​And in time, they all would.

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Wine glinted in the glass as Albert Bell poured, his hand steady though his heart wasn't. He forced a warm smile, the kind he'd perfected over years of careful diplomacy. "This is one of our finest vintages," he said with a laugh that rang hollow in his own ears. "You won't find better in all of Mistral."

The SDC representative, Peter Feller, lifted the glass to his lips, tasting the crisp, sweet wine with an appraising nod. Cius had been a pleasant surprise for him thus far. The weather was fair, the sea an endless stretch of blue, and the countryside rolled in lush, fertile waves. It was easy to dismiss towns like Cius, tucked far from the safety of the cities, as little more than forgotten outposts overshadowed by the danger of Grimm. But places like this, with thriving ports and productive farmland, were the overlooked veins that kept the world's economy alive.

Feller leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine as he spoke. "Compliments to your produce, Mister Bell. I'm confident this will find a market back in Atlas."

Bell chuckled nervously, his smile faltering for just a moment. "I...I hope so. Cius has much to offer."

Behind him loomed his desk, an old oaken relic bearing the weight of history. Its surface was marred by years of use, the original coat of arms of the Mistrali Empire long replaced by that of Cius. A single sheet of paper lay atop it, stamped and signed in bold, official ink. 

"It certainly does," Feller said, his tone as smooth as the wine. "I'll remind you, Mister Bell, that the SDC has already invested heavily in acquiring this land. All for Cius's benefit, of course."

"Of course!" Bell replied, perhaps too quickly, the words sticking in his throat like a barb. He could feel the weight of Feller's knife, metaphorical but sharp nonetheless. "I wouldn't have invited you here if we both wouldn't benefit."

In truth, Bell hadn't expected the SDC to respond to his invitation, much less take such immediate and decisive interest. Cius was a small town, known for its food and little else. The port was serviceable, sure, but hardly remarkable. Yet Bell had studied the land's history, knew the whispers of Dust veins hidden beneath the soil. He hadn't imagined that those whispers would lead to this, a multi-million lien discovery that had drawn the attention of one of the most powerful companies in Remnant.

Feller swirled his glass again, his tone turning businesslike. "Now, when your people see the benefits, we'll need to discuss the ownership of the ports. Since the SDC is handling the cost of modernizing them, the company will expect a 60 percent stake in the profits."

Sixty percent. Bell felt the words like a punch to the gut, but he didn't flinch. He couldn't afford to.

"Reasonable," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We pride ourselves on fairness," Feller replied smoothly, finishing his glass. "Construction will begin next week. Work crews, materials, everything required. Standard procedure."

Bell nodded, swallowing his unease. "Standard practice," he repeated, as though saying it aloud would make it true.

"That said," Feller continued, his tone taking on a sharper edge, "due to the Grimm presence in the area, the company has decided to bring in security consultants to protect our investment."

"Security consultants?" Bell echoed, his voice laced with cautious curiosity.

"Oh yes," Feller said, his smile cool and unwavering. "The best of the best. Disciplined, professional, and you won't need to worry about any incidents. But, of course, I'll need to ask. Will your people welcome them as well?"

"Of course," Bell said quickly, a little too quickly. "We're not barbarians here."

"No one said you were," Feller assured him, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.

Before he could continue, a knock came at the door. Bell straightened in his seat, calling out, "Enter!"

His secretary stepped in hurriedly, leaning down to whisper something into his ear. Whatever was said drained the color from Bell's face.

Feller raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Yes?"

"Just...some disagreements," Bell said, his voice strained. "Nothing to worry about, I assure you."

Feller leaned back, his expression one of practiced patience. "Your people, Mister Mayor. They have questions about our contract?"

Bell froze, his hesitation betraying him.

Feller chuckled, as if the moment amused him. "We expected this, Mister Bell. It's not our first time."

Rising from his seat, Feller adjusted his jacket, his movements calm and deliberate. "I told them, if they had questions, they could bring them to me. And so," he said, turning to the secretary with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "tell them I'm here. And I'm waiting."

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A/N: Arriba.