Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 42

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The island of Patch went along as it usually did. It was large and capable enough to hold a diverse biome. Indeed, settlement on Patch was largely left to its only single town called Signal as well as a few homesteads in and around the island. What humanity could not touch was largely left alone as evident with the trees that seemed to kiss the sky and in its forests, an orchestra of fauna made their homes in it. It was peaceful, serene, and absolutely uninvolved with the happenings of the outside world. In days long past, it would take months and years for the people of Path to be aware of news in the outside world. Thanks to the Cross Continental Towers built by Atlas, it and many places around Remnant became connected. Surely, they had heard the news that Mantle and Atlas had re-united. They too also had seen folk complain about it as well. But for the people of the island, they didn't care. Why should they? Atlas and Mantle was far enough and the government in Vale barely paid attention to anyone outside of its cities anyway.

That was then until the Mayor of Signal received word that he was due to get a visitor interested in buying property in the island.

For out of the way folk, that was perhaps one of the most interesting things to happen there. A potentially rich investor looking towards Patch and invest there? While their lives weren't hard, Patch did not exactly have the luxuries one would find in the city. Upgrading the island's economy would be an obvious boost towards the local economy. Perhaps even get Patch's name out into the world.

And so the Mayor prepared with his entourage and dressed in his best clothes. It was important for one to look their best when someone new was coming. First impressions were always good and Mayor Oak was determined to make the island as attractive as possible. Oak was a man late in his middle-years. Once he had used to be fit and strong as an ox, working as a labourer in Signal. Now, he had lost that fit look for a chubby but dignified stature. He was not fat, as he insisted, merely putting on some extra padding. Once someone tried to point out it was fat. Oak made sure to redirect trash disposal away from that heckler's residence.

"I see it!" someone cried out. Faces turned to see a silver gleam in the distance, like starlight in the sky and it was rapidly growing closer.

"Must be the investor," Oak mused. He straightened his tie and turned to his entourage. "Remember everyone, time to impress. Speak properly, alright?"

Nods and affirmations were shared all around. A few of his entourage made their last checks; correcting their collars, applying mouth freshener. Everyone had put on their best for this. Oak took a breath. He had to admit he was excited. From the net mail he had received, the buyer was Royal and Imperial. He had no idea what the arms company wanted to do in Patch but he was willing to hear them out. Well, if they wanted to build an arms factory there, he was not exactly sure if his constituents would like the idea of a arms factory so close to their homes and they already had Steyr, the biggest arms manufacturing plant on the planet. What would they want with Patch?

It was then, Oak noticed, that the singular gleam in the distance suddenly became two's, then three's, and six's. The closer they got, the more details his eyes could pick out. He had thought that they were bullheads, the usual transport of the well-to-do's. But no, those did not look like bullheads. The long-cannons and the missile pods did not scream bullhead to him. There was a slight yell as the saucer-like crafts fly-by them, their engines an ominous buzz that screamed through the air akin to an eagle stalking through.

​A light squeaky voiced yelled through the din. "THAT WAS SO HECKING COOL!"

"Ruby!"

Shivering, Oak glanced up as a new noise registered in his ears. A bullhead, finally, was making its way close. It slowed its speed, the engines powering down as it turned on its side, revealing the Eagle of Wayland painted on its side, wings outstretched proudly.

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The mayor had nervously led me around town, showing off what Signal could offer. Other than the Huntsman preparatory academy, it didn't really have much in terms of impressive stuff. That was alright however since I just wanted to put up my workers here. The tour was uneventful, ending up to his office at the town hall. I was sat down, a cup of iced tea being offered to me. 

Ï accepted it, taking a sip and savoring the sweetness, as the Mayor took his place behind his desk. 

"So....what can Signal do for you, Mister Wayland?" He asked. 

I leaned forward, depositing the empty glass on his desk before resting my hands on my lap. I smiled graciously at the man. "I shall be honest with you, Mayor Oak, since you have been gracious in showing me your home. You see, I am planning to construct a special facility on Patch that will, soon, launch rockets into space. The bulk of the construction will happen far from Signal so you do not have to worry about disturbances to you and your people." 

The mayor nodded intently, a part of him looking relieved. Must have thought I was going to build an arms factory or something. Unneeded thanks to Steyr. He then paused, doing a double take as he glanced at me. "A rocket launch? For what?"

"Well, I will not spoil more as it is a company secret but Royal and Imperial is looking into space exploration," I announced proudly. He blinked, adjusting the glasses on his face. 

"Space exploration? I am sorry, Mister Wayland, but I understand Dust stops working in space?" He recalled. I nodded.

"It does. But we have a means to circumnavigate that," I revealed, my tone conspiratorial. 

"I assume you cannot tell me about this means. Don't worry, I understand," the Mayor soothed. He leaned in. His tone and look much more serious. "Now, what does Signal mean in your plans, Mister Wayland?" 

​Time to make a pitch. "You see, I will be importing workers and materials into the island for this construction. The workers will need a place to stay. I would like to purchase land inside Signal to construct housing facilities for them as well as expand Signal's ports to facilitate material transfer. Additionally, a highway will be made to connect Signal and the launch site."

​Mayor Oak's mind flashed, calculating the logistics and benefits in his mind. Having an influx of foreigners into his city would be a short-term disturbance at most and the town would no doubt get used to them, provided they weren't rowdy. The town would enjoy foreign capital and investment though he did worry if Signal could feed so many people. There also was the fact that much of Signal and Patch would be torn up to make room for the new arrivals and their construction. "A few questions, if you do not mind." 

​"Ask away," I smiled. 

"Why bother buying land here when you could simply construct housing in your site or even use our port? I also have concerns regarding feeding the new arrivals. Patch is big, yes, but we only really make enough food to feed our settlement. And...why Patch? I am sure Atlas has no shortage of islands to build on," the Mayor questioned. 

"You see, Patch lies directly on the equator of our planet. We have found that rockets can make use of our planet rotational speed which in turn lessens their fuel consumption," I explained the biggest reason. It wasn't totally that however. Sure, it would mean sending a rocket up into the sky would be easier but it also had the added benefit of distance with the assholes in Vale. You see, Patch was quite literally a stone toss away from Vale. Once the launches start, it would be visible from the city. The progress of mankind quite literally lighting up the sky would be a giant fuck you to the Fleur and their shadowy evil sugar mommy. I was quite sure they were going to send people and raise a stink over this, perhaps even petitioning Atlas to send observers here as Patch was technically apart of Vale but really, that would be the first time the Valean government would take an interest in settlements outside Vale proper. If they were planning to go sabotage the launch, they would find that a difficult thing to do, considering our stringent security and any observers would be followed closely. 

I continued on to answer his other concerns. "For your other questions, we'd be happy to import food onto the island as well and offer assistance to your farms until it comes to a time that Patch can support itself. As for expanding in Signal, it is cheaper for the company to build on a settlement rather make an entirely new one, you see. We may have a considerable budget but even we cannot afford to waste everything." 

This entire project was proving to be expensive, I had to admit. Starting production on barely understood technology consumed money and resources but the money injection into the Atlesian economy was sending us into overdrive. The Wayfarer Rocket was going to be our flagship standard for continuous rocket projects but for our maiden rocket...well...the mark for the history books was going to outweigh its current costs. It was going to be worth it, damn it.

Understanding dawned on the mayor's eyes as he listened to my explanations. He hummed, glancing outside. "Very well, Mister Wayland. Signal will be happy to host you," he declared as he looked back. He stood up, offering his hand for a shake.

I took it, smiling. "I promise you, this will all be worth it." 

"I do not doubt it," his eyes glint at the investment coming here. He then cocked his head. "Are you not worried about the Grimm?"

​I smiled. "We have that covered."

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"Contact!"

Winter leapt forward before any of her men could react, her sabre glinting with wicked intent as it found the flesh of the Beowolf about to leapt onto their pointman. Said trooper fell on his back, surprised by the swiftness of Winter. She momentarily glanced back to see if he was alright and asides from having the shock of his life, he was going to be away, she judged. She turned back to the struggling Beowolf piteously yelping at the piece of dust-infused sabre jabbed in its throat. Without ceremony, Winter twisted her sabred and bisected its head clean off. That would have been the end of it if not for the rustling of leaves in the distance and the snarls of Grimm.

​Her hand snapped into action, her voice commanding. "Take your positions and open fire!" she roared.

Men rushed, las rifles humming and the brass shells of Buzzsaws clicking. As soon as the first Grimm made themselves known, the fireteam unleashed everything they had. Lances of light poured forth from the riflemen in a orgy of colours. Reds, Blues, purples. There too was an orgy of effects as well. Grimm rolled over in flames, others froze where they stood. If they were creatures of blood and flesh, they would have been lucky. Winter winced a little as the rattling staccato booms of the Buzzsaws joined in. Bullets arced forward and tore through bone and black ichor. A grisly scene if they had blood, Winter thought, as their machine-gunners found a comfortable spot to shoot from. What Grimm the bullets didn't hit tore through branches and roots and leaves. Serene forest floor left undisturbed for as long as it existed was torn apart in a matter of minutes. By the time that the Grimm had all been shot down and the order to ceasefire was given, it seemed as if a cyclone had come to rip that patch of forest in a thousand and one pieces.

Asides from that one Beowolf, she barely got to do anything. She didn't have strong feelings about that. It was good that the grunts could finally pull their weight around instead of having Specalists such as her do everything. Such was the newfound effectiveness that the Atlesian Military found in itself that requests for Specialists were getting less and less. The truly monstrous Grimm needed their intervention, of course, but now, they were as the grunts were saying, kicking ass.

Not that Winter would ever say such a thing.

She sheathed her blade, turning around to the fallen trooper still on his rear. He looked young, perhaps new. She moved forward, offering him a hand. The trooper glanced up, blinking, then accepted the hand. As he stood, he looked apologetic.

"Sorry, uh, ma'm. I....uh...I froze," the trooper apologized. Winter pat him gently on his shoulder.

"Don't freeze next time. Your life will depend on it. You see something with more than two legs, you give it everything that your weapon has, understood?" Winter pressed. The trooper nodded, taking her words to heart. She turned again, eyeing the damage that they had done.

She and teams such as this were scouring around the designated site for Royal and Imperial's proposed rocket launch site who, once completed, would launch Remnant's very own satellites into the sky. The project was supposed to be completed in time for the 38th biennial Vytal Festival Tournament. Knowing Alexander, Winter suspected that he had suspecting planned that would essentially steal the spotlight away from the contestants. Winter would be lying if she professed to understand the science behind rocketry or whatever the inventor had in mind but she understood that Dust stopped working once it passed a certain line. Then again, this was Alexander Wayland and if anything was shown, nothing was impossible with them.

​It was then, Winter's senses screamed at her as an ominous presence made itself known. It started with the cracking of trees, crushed underneath the weight of something big and heavy.

"Squad, retreat!" Winter cried out. At her alarmed cry, the men pulled back, the boots joining in the oppression against forest branches. Just in time as the trees ahead snapped under a shadow, zigzagging across, forked tongue tasting the scent of humanity in the air, and malevolent yellow eyes locked on Winter. Her sabres flashed, her legs charged, and her focus lasered onto the incoming King Taijitu, a massive snake Grimm that dwarfed her and the troopers accompanying her. She leapt through the trees, her aura and her acrobatic body powering her through. In the air now, WInter glowed with power as white glyphs flashed next to her. In a diving lunge now, she made a freefall for the Taijitu, her sabred aimed for its forehead. The glyphs glowed in intensity as a barrage of ice spikes shot forth from them, impaling the Grimm. If it were any smaller, it would have been speared but it was not. The spikes pierced through its bone plates with force like that of a knight's lance. The Taijitu hissed in pain but it endured the ice as it opened its jaws wide, ready to swallow the descending Specialist whole.

But just as it seemed she would be taken in by the snake's mouth, the glyphs merged into one and from it poured forth a massive ice shard that stuck into the snakes mouth. By instinct, the Taijitu bit into it and shattered the ice underneath its force. Crystals and powder glittered as Winter pushed through with her dive and crashed against the massive snake. Her sabre found its mark, directly between the Taijitu's eyes. Winter closed in with gritted teeth, making sure to stare directly into the eyes of the snake who glared at her back in its infinite malevolence. With a flash, her dagger appeared in her hand and she dug it deep directly into its eyes. Together and with all her strength, she cut open a chunk of the snake's face. She leapt away in a somersault, landing on her heels and watching as the snake trashed about, crushing more poor trees underneath its body. With a dancer's grace, Winter pirouetted on where she stood and slammed her sabre into the floor. A glyph appeared before the snake in its death throes and from the very earth itself, a massive glacier formed, imprisoning the snake in a enveloping iceberg.

Letting out a huff, Winter twirled the dagger in her hand with an assassin's precision before tossing it against the ice. The metal dug deep as it could and stayed still. The troopers watched in quiet awe as cracks began to form around the dagger. Slowly at first then in a speed akin to a virus spreading throughout the body. Finally, the iceberg shattered into a million pieces, showering those nearest to it with thick chunks of ice and the remains of the Taijitu now rapidly simmering away as Grimm flesh did upon death.

Winter sheathed her sabre back, walking over to pick up her dagger lying in a puddle of water. She sniffed. Yes. Perhaps it would be even more overkill to bring in another Specialist.

She was more than enough for this mission.

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The office of the First Minister of Vale reflected his status. Gilded, refined, and oozing of authority and dignity. Located in the tallest tower of Vale Castle, previously the home of Vale's ruling King and now the official residence for the Kingdom's Council, Cardinal Armand Rouge watched the reports pouring onto the computer screen on his desk. It was a marvel of technology, really. Far faster and more capable than pen and parchment back in the old days. A pity that the thing came from a Atlesian factory rather than a Valean one. A fact that irked him to no end. 

At his side, his bodyguard stirred at his apparent displeasure. Mazarin d'Artagnan crossed her arms, blowing away the strand of hair the blocked her vision. "Is something bothering you, my lord?" 

He closed his eyes, leaning back against his chair. "Not only are there fools resisting the changes we are going to implement into the Fleur, the bastard Atlesians are also building a facility on Patch, an island just directly west of us." 

Rouge then turned, frowning some more as the CCT net was filled with nothing more about the news of Atlas and Mantle's re-unification. As one, Mantle had been able to fight both Vale and Vacuo in their primes and that was when even before their impressive technology. Now...united once more? Vale had to change, quickly. Despite his attempts and the support of the Duke Winchester, people simply weren't going to drop everything just because they were told to. Even in the heydays of his power and influence, there were stubborn and suicidal idiots that would refuse him. Principles mostly, others out of self-preservation. This time, it was principles and what foolish principles they were. He had been accused of softening, of diluting their ranks by accepting peasants and even animals into their midst. He could sympathize with such thoughts but when Vale was under threat of being even more eclipsed than what it already was, some things must be sacrificed for the greater good. They complained and panicked to him about the unification of Solitas but when the time came for them to make their own sacrifices, they dither.

"The Atlesians are building something?" Mazarin asked. Rouge massaged the bridge of his nose. 

"Yes. It is important to them as well. A fleet of airships are outside Patch, ferrying both supplies, troops, and equipment on the island," Rouge informed her. The worst thing was they could not realistically do anything about it. For one, they had no navy to challenge the Atlesians. Secondly, Atlas and Vale were allies now with Atlas providing most of Vale's security. They were free to move their ships as they pleased. The only time they needed to ask permission if their fleets would park directly above the city which they weren't doing now. 

"Can we do anything about it?" Mazarin asked, cocking her head. Rouge shook his. 

"Our kingdoms are friends and Atlas provides us security. They are free to go and sail where they please, the exception being if they are above the city which they aren't. Even then, what can we challenge them with? We have no navy," Rouge hissed bitterly. Another weakness that they would have to plug among many other things. Vale needed its own technology to call its own. It shouldn't rely on Atlas for everything. His sponsor had promised him assistance with that but it had yet to manifest. But at the moment, his biggest concern was matters at home. 

"At most, we will send someone to keep an eye on them. For now, domestic affairs need our attention," Rouge said, changing the subject. "Certain elements in our movement are refusing to heed our directives and that of our Dauphin. If we are going to march into the next century, we must cut out those that will challenge Vale's interests." 

"Who must die for Vale?" Mazarin asked quickly, her one good eye glinting in excitement. 

"I appreciate your zeal, Musketeer, but we will dial down direct assassinations. Our hands must be clean now." Rouge rumbled, to the visible disappointment of Mazarin. He looked towards her. "These elements will be purged from our ranks properly through politics. We control the government now and we must be publicly seen doing it. This will be the first of many steps in paving our road to full restoration." 

"Are you sure, Cardinal?" Mazarin cocked her head, her arms crossed. "If the opposition is allowed to exist, they will create issues and problems for us in the future." 

"If we want our people to have confidence in us, we unfortunately must go clean. I will not have our government marred with instability. Plus, this world has its share of instability in Vacuo and Mistral. Vale mustn't be caught in that." Rouge declared firmly. He knew what he was doing was going against the wishes of his sponsor but it was better for him to ask forgiveness than permission. Vale was getting weaker here, not stronger. And a stronger Vale would serve their purposes better than a weak one. 

And he would always be Vale's servant first, not that of a shadowy figure he had not even met. 

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A/N: Updoots