Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 34

+++

We were now in Ironwood's office, far away from unneeded eyes. The man was looking gravelly outside his window, his hands folded behind his back. I sat on the chair across his desk, a mug of hot coffee in my hand. In the side, WInter stood quietly, with her scroll and trying her best to look busy but the confusion and uncertainty was on her face. 

"Do you know who the Fleur De Lis are, Alexander?" Ironwood asked, his attention still affixed outside. I took a sip from my cup, my mouth savouring the warm chocolate before nodding. 

"Outside of knowing they are a political party in Vale, that is it," I admitted. Winter saw this as her cue.

"They are the most unified, the most centralized, and the most potent Old Guard party in all of Remnant," she narrated, setting her scroll aside. "While the Color and Faunus Rights Revolution stripped away the rights and priveleges of nobility, the ones in Vale dismantled theirs, respecting the wishes and decrees of the Warrior-King. While they may have done so, they have slowly regained their foothold in Valean politics." 

"And they dislike Atlas," Ironwood joined in as he turned around. He strode up, one hand settling on his chair as he pulled it back and sat down. "They hold the largest private military company in Vale, armed and funded by the Fleur." 

​I set my steaming mug aside and took out my own scroll. A few searches later yielded to me our aforementioned suspects. The first and most prominent picture however was a elderly man with hawkish eyes, patrician features, and clad in black and red. "Armand Rouge, formerly First Minister of Vale and now, a mere Councillor," I read his page. I glanced up, turning my scroll around for both Ironwood and Winter to see. "He looks like the kind of man that does not enjoy playing second fiddle."

"He was also the man primarily responsible for keeping Vale together with its Warrior-King," Winter recounted, remembering her history lessons. "While the King went to war, he made sure that Vale would not suffer collapse." 

"And now, we are going to have to accuse him and his party as murderers and assassins," I said, pulling back my scroll. "I don't have to be told that accusing a foreign councillor, a high-ranking one at that, is going to need so much more evidence than me seeing a member of his party in a machine's memory." 

"I am aware," Ironwood grunted, falling into a Gendo pose. "I will be ordering a quiet inquiry into their affairs here in Atlas. The Fleur do not function as a political party but they maintain themselves as vanguards of Valean tradition. They have offices here in Atlas where they attempt to spread Valean culture. I will have those offices watched." 

"But what about the woman Alexander saw?" Winter asked, turning to Ironwood. 

"The advantage of having huntresses be so colorful is that they cannot blend in to a normal population," Ironwood declared, his lip curling slightly in a smile. "She will be found. I have one of my top Specialists looking into it. Vine Zeki. He has the temperament to do this quietly." 

I had no idea who that was so I just merely nodded. "So assuming that we find information that implicates them, what happens next?" 

"The best thing I can do is to pass it off to Valean authorities and let them do the rest," Ironwood sighed. "Atlas and Vale share close ties, yes, but this sort of thing has never happened before. If we wish to try them, there needs to be an extradition treaty signed between both of our countries. We cannot expect Vale to hand over one of their own so easily and a war hero at that." 

​And by handing it to Valean authorities, I can only assume that Ironwood was going to hand it to Ozpin who would do his thing. "Okay...now the other question in the room, what about the faunus? As far as they will suspect, Jacques Schnee lashed out from the Council vote." 

Winter kept herself impassive. 

​Ironwood turned grim. "It is for the sake of Atlas's international standing particularly among our faunus citizens that Jacques Schnee must be held liable for his crimes."

"That's rather vague," I said, leaning back on my chair. "What crimes?" 

"Monopolizing the dust trade, treason for putting Atlas's security at risk with a fake dust shortage, labour abuse towards his faunus workers. That is all just a few things which he is accused of." Ironwood said.

"We're not going to accuse him of trying to assassinate Ghira Belladonna are we?" I asked, feeling a little bit sick at the thought. Sure, Jacques was a creature of absolute avarice but pining a false charge on him would be sketchy as hell. 

"Since our primary suspects are the Fleur, it would be a miscarriage of justice if we charge Jacques for that only to have it come to light that the Fleur had done it," Ironwood sighed. "However, it will still be infuriating for the faunus that Jacques won't have those charges." 

"Will it look like we are trying to protect him?" I questioned. 

"We do not have evidence that he ordered the attack," Ironwood replied stiffly. 

"And people will think that the Kingdom hid it though that would sound ridiculous," I said, rubbing my chin. 

"People are angry enough as it is. They won't care," Ironwood said as he stood up. Winter stood at attention and I slowly rose as well. "The only thing we can do now is to ensure Jacques Schnee gets his trial soon and quickly. The quicker we do that, the more we can calm the passionate. Public scrutiny would die down and our real work can begin." He turned to Winter. "Specialist Schnee, I'm heading over to the Council. Your father is being transported there as we speak." He then stepped over. "I understand that this...will be taxing for you. You do not have to come with me. You can stay here and not watch. I can manage without a Specialist escort." 

Winter glanced up, her eyes were tired, red. But firm. "No one is above our Kingdom, General. Not even...my father." she said, trying her best to sound strong. 

Ironwood nodded. "With me, then." 

It was then I spoke up. "General, would you mind if I spoke with Winter?" 

Ironwood glanced at Winter then to me. He raised an eyebrow before comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Three minutes," He said as he walked out of his office, leaving Winter and I alone.

I glanced up at her, my expression soft. "How are you feeling?" 

Her smile was strained. "Exhausted. For obvious reasons. I just want this to be over with." 

I strode over to her from where she stood. She looked up at me. Closer, I could see her features better. Her hair was a little frazzled, her eyes were dead tired. While makeup had done well to make her look pristine, a critical eye could see the eyebags on her. I slowly raised my hands up to clear straighten some of her hair. She did not recoil nor stop me. 

"When I was five years old..." Winter began to recall. "I was afraid to ride my first horse. I would tense up, nervous. And the horse in turn became nervous too. I thought I would get thrown over." She looked up at me. "It was my father who calmed me down. He...he called out to me, 'Winter! A Schnee is strong and composed! Do not let a mere beast control you, control it!"

​

"And you calmed down?" I asked, imagining a five year old Winter look nervous on a horse.

She laughed. "Oh no, I tried but I couldn't. I eventually got off the horse and cried that I couldn't do it."

"I assume he called you a disappointment?" I asked, thinking it was something that Jacky Schnee could do. 

She shook her head. "Oh no. He said that mistakes could happen. The disappointment would come if I knew the right thing to do and failed to do it. The next time I rode the horse, I did it better." 

She went quiet, the only audible sound that could be heard was the bashing of snow against the window and the heater keeping the room warm. Finally, Winter sighed. "I...I like to believe that once, he was capable of good. Or that good was in him. Only money and power ruining the man he was."

Inwardly, I remembered that Jacques had told Willow that he only married her to take control of the SDC at Weiss's birthday no less. I kept my tongue quiet though as Winter's expression hardened. "I will mourn the man that was and acknowledge him as father. The one now...I will not remember." 

"I'm here for you," I offered her. Her lips curled into a smile. 

"I know," Winter Schnee whispered as she rushed up, pulling me into a hug. It was near crushing, my ribs felt like paste but I tolerated it as I hugged her back. The snow of Atlas felt like nothing as our warmth intertwined. Her heat and mine united in a tight embrace as neither of us wanted to let go. But we had to.

But only after three minutes.

​With Winter quietly laying against my chest, she whispered. "Thank you," 

"It's what I do," I replied, my hands wrapped against her back. She glanced up, her expression torn. I smiled. 

"Alex?" she whispered again. 

"Yeah?" I smiled cheekily. 

She took in a breath. "I lov-"

​My lips met hers quickly. Her eyes widened in surprise but she did not pull away. The Ice Queen melted into it, her soft lips with mine. The heat we both felt was soaring, burning, an inferno that would make the fires of hell look tame. But as much as I had wanted it to last, I had to pull away to her quiet confusion. 

"Three minutes is up," I cheekily smiled. Winter stood dumbfounded, a single gloved hand reaching to her lips. She opened and closed her mouth, as if to confirm what was happening. Her face continuously turning red was the sign that her brain had caught up to what had happened. 

"I....um...uh..." she whimpered. I laughed, shaking my head as I pulled back and straightened her uniform. "I've known for awhile, Winter. You are very expressive when it comes to such things." 

"You knew?" she whispered, mortified. 

​I tapped the side of her cheek softly. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have kissed you would I?"

​All levels of alarm, embarrassment, and horror went through Winter's face. With still red cheeks, she glanced away, clearing her throat. "I...I suppose that is true." 

"Trying your best not to freak out, are you?" I asked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Winter Schnee stressed.

"Of course," I bowed gracefully, standing aside and gesturing to the door. "Worry not, we will talk about it when you come back,"

"We better!" she growled, fixing her uniform and striding out. 

"I'll keep my schedule open!" I called out to her. 

"You better!" she looked over her shoulder, ready to leave. 

"I love you!" I added, smiling. She stopped in her tracks, frozen. She turned around, slowly. The aggression was gone, replaced by a thankful smile.

"I love you too," Winter whispered.

+++

"You're disgusting," came the words of Harriet Bree as she stood before silver steel bars where inside sat Atlas's most wanted man. Harriet was medium sized, with dark pink eyes and mixed brown/blonde hair done in a mohawk. Her uniform was the usual Specialist one albeit sleeveless for her weapons, gauntlets apart of a exoskeleton that enhanced her upper body strength. If he was insulted by her, Jacques Schnee did not show it. Instead, he merely sat back on his seat, hands cuffed, and snorted.

"You are wasting your breath," Jacques said, his tone towards Harriet like that of a man mocking someone for being simple. And to Jacques, Harriet was simple. "I give my life to ensure Atlas dominates the world through the Schnee Dust Company, I financed research that pushed the edge of innovation, and net this kingdom millions upon millions of lien and this is the thanks I get?" he complained.

"Over the blood of innocents," a new voice joined, hearing the confrontation that was happening. Jacques glanced up as a shadow loomed over him. Elm Ederne was a massive woman standing at six foot five, with brown hair and eyes. Again, her uniform was the Atlesian Specialist uniform albeit with an exposed tank top. Today was the day Jacques Schnee was going to answer for his crimes, alongside that of his former board members arrested after the SDC under Willow released even more papers that damned them. Their trials would come at a later date however. Jacques Schnee had been held by Atlas for a while and the longer Atlas held him in administrative detention, the more likely Jacques could go sue the state for detaining him without a trial. With the White Fang bombing affair, Atlas decided to add in assassination charges to a stacked sheet.

"Innocents?" Jacques Schnee said, raising an eyebrow. "These were grown men and women who understood that the work was going to be dangerous. I did not deceive them anymore than a military recruiter does finding soldiers for the army. You," he said to Elm, "You are a idiot and a fool."

"Why you!" Elm hissed, ready to walk up and show Jacques what she thought about him but a strong voice spoke out,

"Enough!" Clover quickly interjected as he stood up from his seat. The leader of the Ops had been quiet, aware of the tension that his team had towards Jacques Schnee. There was little harm in letting them blow off a little steam. Too much steam however was forbidden. Only the Kingdom could enact such a thing. They were in a bullhead headed for the Council Chambers where a team of three councillors were ready to judge him before the Kingdom. Travelling by air was deemed quicker and safer for Jacques considering the roads were full of protestors who would relish at the chance to beat him to death.

Shaking his head, Clover continued. "Control yourselves. You're Specialists, not grunts." he said gravelly, looking at Elm and Harriet who stood at attention.

"But he-" Harriet tried to speak but Clover cut her off.

"He's proof that not all men are created equal, I know," Clover said bluntly, walking up and looking into the cell where Jacques sat unperturbed. Clover continued to speak as he did so. "Some people are human or faunus, with hot red blood in their veins and others, like Jacques, are colder than ice. But even he is entitled to a trial." He faced the two Ace Ops, brows furrowed. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," the two hissed, absolutely displeased at their mission in escorting and protecting Jacques Schnee.

"Don't worry too long, Specialists," Jacques said, palms spread. "I will be your problem no longer."

"You are not afraid?" Clover asked, stepping forward. Jacques looked calm, as if he was going to the park instead of being put on trial for the entire nation.

"Why would I?" Jacques asked, raising an eyebrow. "I have done it, Specialist. I have made history. Under me, the Schnee Dust Company had given Atlas the whole planet and without me, it shall be torn apart. Whatever the outcome of today's trial shall be, I will go knowing that I had taken the SDC to heights unknown.

"This is everything to you? Your legacy?" Harriet asked, disgusted. Clover was correct in saying the man was a lizard.

As Jacques was about to reply, the glass to the Bullhead broke as bullets tore through the cockpit. The pilots were dead before they even slumped over their controls. The bullhead's engines screamed as the slumped pilots diverted the craft down in a angle. The Specialists did not panic, clutching to whatever they could hold on to. "Elm!" Clover cried out immediately. "Break through his cell!"

"Yes sir!" the muscle woman affirmed as she rushed forward and punched through the cell doors. Jacques protested indignantly as she hefted him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Harriet, door!" he cried out. The woman moved quickly, punching an emergency button that opened the bullhead's rear doors. "Go!" he urged his Specialists.

"You seriously are not considering jumpi-AHHHHHH!" Jacques screamed as Elm rushed out of the falling bullhead. Clover and Harriet followed afterwards, their fall cushioned by their aura. Clover landed on one knee, his legs supporting his fall. He glanced up to see their initial bullhead careen and crash onto a water-tower, the thing cushioning its fall instead of landing directly onto the street. As much as his heart reached out for the pilots, they had little time to mourn. Theirs was not the only bullhead however, two more had been shadowing them as well as a single Manta gunship. Clover couldn't call for them however as quick successive gunshots echoed. Crowds screamed as they tried to get out of the way. Elm had moved quickly, hugging a protesting Jacques Schnee close to her chest as the Specialists rushed to take cover inside a building. It looked to be a cafe, the patrons having hurriedly left their items behind as they left through the back where an open door lay.

Outside, a voice yelled out. "LET THE SERPENT'S DOG COME OUT AND LET JUSTICE BE DONE UPON HIM!" The voice was angry, old, tired.

"Orders, sir?" Harriet asked, crouched behind a wall while Elm had taken cover behind the counter, Jacques trying to desperately catch his breathe.

Their air support should have been with them by now. Whe-The Buzzsaw and Deuce openly firing out answered his question. To seal it, his scroll rang desperately. Pressing into it, a pilot's panicked voice played. "Specialist, this is Escort-1, we're taking heavy fire from down below. We have to rear back for another pass."

"How long?" Clover asked quickly.

"One minute!"

"Where's our Manta support!?" he asked quickly. The mentioned support made its reply as the telltale whirring of rotary cannons unloading upon unseen targets.

"Specialist, this is Hammer 1. We're supressing shooters over roofs, over. If we won't, Escort's 1 and 2 will be shot down, over," the pilot joined in, his voice barely heard over the din of machine gun fire.

Clover had to think quickly. The longer they were here on the ground, the riskier it was for Jacques Schnee. They had to move. He shook his head as he quickly pressed on a few more buttons. "I am re-directing Specialist Elm and Harriet to this location with the VIP. Escort-2 needs to deploy its marines on to deal with the shooters. Escort-1, pick them up." He ordered, pressing on a location not too far from them and linking it to the pilot as well as his Specialists.

"Sir?" Harriet asked, worried.

"I'm the one with Good Luck as a semblance, go!" Clover ordered. She shared a glance with Elm who nodded.

"No, no no! I will not be some sack of-" Jacques protested only to yelp as Elm man-handled him over her shoulder. He was still kicking and protesting even as they rushed through the back.

"Come on, Jacky Schnee," Elm said before leaving. As they left, Clover let out a breath of air as he pulled Kingfisher out. It was a iron fishing pole with a hook at its end. When he didn't have to use it, it was collapsible. He had rarely used his own weapon, preferring to talk out with his opponents instead of fighting them. Considering the voice which yelled at him, Clover figured that diplomacy was going to be impossible with them.

With one final breath, he leapt over the broken window of the cafe, Kingfisher in hand.

Ahead of him stood an old man, his beard wild and unkempt. His clothing was a long brown coat that reached down to his knees and brown boots. Despite his apparent old age, his eyes burned with sheer fire. In one hand, a sawn-off shotgun. In the other, a short sword. At his sides stood faunus, all bearing Defender rifles and pointed at Clover.

"Where is he? Bring him out!" the old man demanded. At this side, his faunus allies tensed.

"I understand that you are all angry. I understand that Jacques Schnee is a monster but what you are doing is wrong!" Clover cried out, trying both to reason with the old man and buy Harriet and Elm time to evacuate. All they needed was one minute and soon, Escort 2 would be bearing down with its marines and its rotary cannon. "Lay down your arms. I promise you, Atlas will serve justice." 

"Atlas..." the old man replied. "Atlas stood by, watched, and did nothing for the faunus before circumstance forced the sins of the SDC to the light." He shook his head. "No. The wretched oppressed cannot wait anymore."

"So be it," Clover sighed before he acted. Five faunus stood at each side of the old man. Clover's training kicked in and he rushed like a speeding bullet. The faunus reacted, their Defender rifles letting loose their bullets but Clover was faster. Immediately, he was one the nearest faunus, Kingfisher meeting his target's ribs that sent him flying into his friends.

"Distract him!" the old man ordered as he rushed into cafe to chase after Elm and Harriet. That, Clover could not allow. Kingfisher acted, reeling towards and hooked his coat. Momentarily pulled, the old man halted. Clover was on him quickly, his fist about to connect with his foe's skull only to feel pain in his foot as the old man had slammed his boot onto Clover's own. It did not take long for them to descend into a flurry of punches, the old man matching Clover's own. They were a rolling inferno, kicking and punching, Kingfisher meeting his enemy's shortsword. Clover ducked just in time as the old man swiped at him but as he did so, found himself staring into the barrell of his shotgun. Only adrenaline and years of training saved Clover as he leapt away from the blast.

Breathing hard, Clover wiped away at his mouth. His opponent took him on without issue and was even a match. He glanced at his watch. Escort 2 should be here by now!

A rotary cannon firing answered Clover's prayers as dust rounds were unloaded upon the street. The faunus who had been watching them idly responded by going into cover and shooting at the bullhead who hovered overhead. It's rear doors open and Atlesian marines dropped. Their visors quickly id'd who was the enemy and who was not and reacted accordingly, their las-rifles raised and pouring fire on the enemy. In the time it took for the firefight to start, the old man had slipped into the cafe. Cursing to himself, Clover gave chase.

For Elm and Harriet, they had heard the gunshots and yelling start as soon as they had left. The cafe had led them out into an alley that led to another street. Guided by their marker, the two Specialists rushed as fast as their legs could carry them. They were barely out of the alley when a booming voice echoed behind them.

"LEAVE HIM!" roared John Brown as he barrelled through with sword and shotgun in hand, his eyes the very splitting image of fire. "Go!" Harriet urged Elm as she turned around, raised her fists, and rushed to meet Brown head on. Fast Knuckles, her weapon flashes in the alleyway. In the tight alley, she has the advantage. But Brown is a man on a mission, fuelled by righteous fury and the fact that failure here would only lead to Jacques escaping, something he will not allow. The two roar out as they weapons clash with such force that it generates a mild gust of wind through the alley. Harriet lunges, her punches powerful and controlled, aimed sorely at Brown. The experienced Huntsman deflects and pushed her attacks out of the way, her fists striking the walls, the dirt, the electric post that stands behind. He sees an opening and delivers a kick that sends Harriet flying. She lands with her back against a far wall. "Harriet!" Clover cries from behind Brown as he leaps forward, Kingfisher ready to stab Brown in the back. He cries aloud as Brown twists and empties a fire dust shell into his chest. The force throws Clover back, the air in his chest knocked out as the fire dust burns, sucking out oxygen in a brief moment that leaves him without air.

"Do not stop me," Brown warns as he turns on his heels and chases after Elm. He passes by Harriet who groans, coming to and realizes Brown is close. She tries to stand but Brown empties a ice dust shell, imprisoning Harriet in a cocoon of ice. She struggles, her body frozen in place, but ice dust freezes so strongly for a few seconds before it breaks. She's imprisoned for a few seconds. It normally wouldn't be an issue...but a few seconds was what Brown needed.

Breathing heavily, the old man felt that half his aura was slipping. He needed to rest, to recharge. But to do so would only delay Jacque Schnee's death, something which those who were victims of his greed had been crying out for. With this in mind, he trudged on and found the snake being secured by a bunch of Atlesian marines before a waiting bullhead in a parking complex ahead. "NO!" Brown roared, rushing out of the alleyway only to meet Elm's hammer connecting to his chest. John Brown fell on his back, pain searing through his chest.

Elm had seen Escort 1 land ahead and tossed Jacques onto the concrete for the Marines to pull away. She then hid to the side of the alleyway, Timber in hand. Timber was a massive weapon, six feet in length and its hammerhead capable of transforming into twin rocket launchers. In the alley, it would not have much use. But in the open street, John found out the hard way as he lay lying down on the concrete. Elm felt a little terrible at this. John looked old, like a grandpa. Timber deserved to be hitting those who could take it, not old men. She sighed, rearing Timber mechashifted back into form. Behind him, Clover and Harriet were catching up in a rush, trying to catch their breath as they halted before them. "He...how old is he?" Clover asked, looking down at Brown still groaning on the street.

"Eighty?" Harriet offered, breathing heavily. Brown was starting to move, fiddling with his coat, likely in pain.

"Fifty nine!" Brown hissed as he turned on his back, his eyes turning a fierce yellow, as his semblance activated.

+++

The Bandit Queen sneered, walking up to him, sword in hand. 

Halfway through their campaign, Raven Branwen had sent him a challenge. A private duel, witnessed by a choice lieutenant. If he won, he could have her tribe of murderers to do as he wished. If she won, he would take his whole League and never ever return. She marched up, full of bravado and certainty that she would win. And he was happy to let her have that idea, letting her beat him around like it was his first fight. It was only when he was on his back, when she was about to take his head, did he unleash his semblance. 

His fist reached out, smashing against Raven's flesh. 

She reared back, feeling pain since...ever. She looked up at him, demanding answers. 

And he was happy to give it as he beat her within an inch of her life, her aura gone. This was how Brown had survived after so long, how he had fought huntsmen more skilled than him and won. Each one had brought unique semblances to the table, more outlandish and impossible than the last only to lose their bravado as their aura broke. 

Moulder functioned as a temporary field that as the name suggested, disintegrated a huntsman's aura. When aura breaks, a huntsman suffers from intense exhaustion as their soul was literally broken. It lasted for a minute before the enemy would recover. But it was time good enough for him to deal damage. And in one minute, Raven Branwen would have died if her lieutenant had not intervened. As Brown dealt with her, the Bandit Queen vanished in a portal of red light, denying Brown his kill.

Sienna had chided him for his foolishness, even as she dragged him away to their camp to be treated, she chided him for his stupidity as she tended to his wounds. She begged him to be careful as she hugged his chest, their bodies wet with sweat.

+++

It was instant, the effect immediate as Clover, Harriet, and Elm felt their souls waver. They shimmered with their respective colors. Clover collapsed on his front, his muscles refusing to move. Harriet fell on her back, her eyes straight up into the sky. Elm, strong and fierce, landed on one knee. Brown moved, rushing to his feet, his hands gripping the scabbard of his short sword. Ahead, Jacques Schnee was being loaded onto the bullhead, the Marines leading him away.

Time slowed, his heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline rushing inside his veins. He had one shot, one chance. One throw. He reared his hand back to throw. A marine saw him move, he yelled something but Brown ignored him. He raised his lasrifle, his finger went on the trigger.

A bright blue beam shot forth.

Metal glinted in the air.

John Brown stood still, the air gone in his lungs, a coin-sized hole in his stomach. He clutched his bleeding wound, his vision darkening. As he fell, his ears strained to hear as Jacques Schnee gasped, his short-sword piercing him from the back, the blade gutting through his lungs. John Brown fell, dead.

Jacques Schnee collapsed on the concrete, blood rushing from his lungs, up his oesophagus. His words, a throaty choking gurgle, as he died with his own blood in his throat.

+++

NOTE: Because Atlas had to be returned to the ground, most of the military, law enforcement and huntsmen are at the walls to make sure it is safe with the navy and other assets around Atlas or around solitas to deal with grimm hence the slow response.