Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 33

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Ironwood strides forward, his steps are background noise in the low murmuring and other impedimenta of Atlas's finest going to work on what little evidence that they managed to scrape from the chaos of yesterday. Winter Schnee walks next to him, quiet and stoic, with a scroll in her hand. The scroll is connected to their system, feeding her live data from the analysts, crime scene investigators, and other experts that Ironwood had called in. At the very center was a large platform where the remains of the White Fang van lay. The explosion had eaten it from the inside and turned its form into ashy grey slag. Only the transmission remained compared to what was a large van.

Ironwood halted, his expression is stoic but his mind is in chaos. The immediate and most likely suspect was the man he had confronted and was going to get perhaps the swiftest trial in Atlas's history. The ink that sealed the shattering of the SDC was barely dry when the explosion happened. Accusing Jacques Schnee was easy. He had Atlas choke on a artificial Dust stranglehold simply because Royal and Imperial would not sell. If he was so petty to endanger his kingdom then he was more than capable of funding an assassination attempt on the Belladonnas and their cohorts. One last act of spite before Atlesian justice would be brought down upon him.

"What is the status of the driver?" Ironwood asked. Eyewitnesses and cameras had spotted the van driver fleeing the van before everything went to hell. Winter nodded at his request and pressed on a few buttons. The White Fang had rented out a trio of vans to take them around Atlas for the duration of their stay. The transportation company wasn't shady either, having been known to rent out vans, trucks, and other vehicles to be used either for moving or private leisure.

"Jasper Fantom. Thirty years old, Atlesian. He's made a career in logistics as a driver for five years," Winter reported. Ironwood glanced to the side as Winter showed him an image of their man. To Ironwood, he didn't look particularly anything out of the ordinary. No striking features, no visible marks. To him, he looked much like any man in the logistics profession.

Winter continued, pulling back her scroll. "Jasper Fantom was the driver of the middle van, according to the list the company provided. His co-workers described him as affable, kind, and hard-working. However..." she trailed off.

"Yes?"

"He had strong opinions on the Faunus, sir. It's been attributed to his father dying at the battle of Fort Castle," Winter reported.

At that, Ironwood did a double take. An Atlesian dying at Fort Castle? Atlas hadn't even been a entity during that time and a majority of the troops that fought at Fort Castle were from Vale, the one place that still had an army after the Great War. It was possible that Mantlese citizens fought there but Mantle and Mistral were busy rebuilding and had no troops to send on a expedition. "What are the records we have of his family?" Ironwood pressed.

Winter clicked some more. "There are numerous Fantoms in Atlas, sir. However, he was not born here. It appears he was born in Vale."

Vale.

A Valean turned Atlesian, his father dying at Fort Castle and with strong opinions against the faunus.

"Thank you, Specialist. Carry on with your duties," Ironwood suddenly announced as he turned. WInter's eyes widened as she moved to come with him but Ironwood gave her a look. "Stay here. I need to make a call," he said before walking off, leaving Winter behind in confusion. Watching Ironwood walk off, Winter couldn't help but sigh as she glanced back down to her scroll. Destiny, fate...the gods, whoever was pulling the strings had not been kind to Atlas. First, the mine explosion that happened in the North. The shattering of her family's company and now, a assassination attempt on a visiting head of state and members of not just his government but also his family too. Barely a year into her service and so much was happening in such a short time. If anything, Winter mused bitterly, she was getting tired of living through major historical events. She was about to lose herself in her work once more when suddenly, her scroll pinged.

Ironwood on the other hand found a room and after making sure it was empty, locked the door and took out his scroll. He clicked on it and waited for a minute until finally, a familiar voice spoke up. "James?"

"Ozpin," Ironwood greeted him. "I have much to return to so I will make this quick. Is this attack from Salem?"

On the other line, Ozpin's expression became tired. Ironwood sympathized with that, aware of the truth. "...It is likely," he sighed.

"Likely?" Ironwood said, raising an eyebrow.

"The dignitaries visiting, it did not have Ghira Belladonna but also high-ranking members of the White Fang and Menagerie's council, correct?" Ozpin asked.

"It did," Ironwood nodded. "For the White Fang, there was their Atlesian branch representative and his underlings who met them at the airport. Then the secretary of their organization and two close advisors of Ghira. As for the Menagerie council, their chief treasurer had come. Kali Belladonna was the head of their diplomatic corps but she brought over plenty of her underlings as well." Such a titanic slap towards the White Fang had crippled its leadership as well as successors. Menagerie too would find itself bereft of international representation. As Ironwood understood it, the White Fang was the broad organization that represented their people while Menagerie was the governmental arm of their nation. The White Fang would be crippled but Menagerie could still continue on.

"It is a small mercy then that Ghira Belladonna hadn't perished otherwise, the White Fang's fury would be hard to quell," Ozpin sighed. "How is the situation there, James?"

"The Atlesian Fang have only done small scale strikes, their leadership had been gutted after all. I have agents inside that have informed me the general mood of the Atlesian Fang is that Jacques Schnee is responsible, not Atlas," Ironwood reported. The dramatic rescue of the thirty three miners and the Council passing the law to shatter the SDC had done much to protect Atlas's reputation among its faunus citizens. That still did not mean they weren't angry. "They are angry about the terrible security we've assigned though. Being a politician here is fast becoming dangerous," he sighed.

Florianne Geyer then Ghira. He had already ordered the security of all Councillors to be tripled. But that was just the tip of the iceberg to what Ironwood wanted. "Thanks to the cameras, we've managed to discern the identity of the driver. This only proves to me that Atlas needs better security, Ozpin. In that end, I am going to champion a security bill for the creation of a agency whose task is to find and detect threats to Atlas and deal with them," Ironwood declared.

"...You are not planning to establish a Secret Police, are you James?"

Ironwood shook his head. "No, Ozpin. This agency will be answerable directly to me. Again, this incident has shown that Atlas is deficient in one area, security. I will not allow this Kingdom to be caught unawares ever again." A full sweep of Atlas's security both internal and external would have to be done to ensure that the enemy couldn't enter through the cracks. Even the CCT network, the lifeline of international communication, wouldn't be spared from this fortification. Backdoors had to be closed, potential breaches repaired. But this...this was only just the beginning, Ironwood mused.

"Your enemies and detractors will claim you are trying to start a police state, James. I am of the mind they will see your measures and decry it as over-reaching," Ozpin observed. It took Ironwood's personal emotional control to not allow himself to scowl.

"Florianne Geyer died because she lacked security. Ghira Belladonna is unconcious, his wife is scarred and his daughter is traumatized. The White Fang are gutted. My detractors do not understand what is at stake here," Ironwood hissed. And that was true, safe behind their wealth and their scrolls. They were not the ones that had to deal the stress of protecting a kingdom. They were not the ones that had to deal with the fact that the Grimm could, at any moment, amass and overrun Atlas at the direction of its Queen.

"I am not criticizing you, James," Ozpin quickly assured him. "I am only reminding you that while your measures make sense, there are going to be those uncomfortable with the Kingdom amassing such powerful authority, legitimate or not."

"I am aware, Ozpin. And to that end, I am working on a project that will render such arguments moot," Ironwood proclaimed. He still needed to talk with someone that understood the masses in ways he never could. Theo Rider was his best chance for that, the man had the charisma he did not have.

"What project, James?" Ozpin asked carefully, tilting the glasses on his face.

"I cannot say just yet, Ozpin. It needs the touch of men who know more about politics than me," Ironwood said. "I will be sure to tell you the details on what it will be. The conversation we had, it was...thought provoking."

"I see," Ozpin drawled, thinking perhaps that Ironwood was planning to institute reforms that would subordinate the military to a civilian council with expanded powers. That would surely calm fears of tyranny.

Ironwood had different ideas.

"Returning to our topic, what could be the benefit for the Queen to do this?" he said, shaking his head. "This is far too overt, even for her. Following that, our suspect is Valean. Jasper Fantom. The best we can go on at the moment is that his father died during the Faunus Rights Revolution at Fort Castle. This had instilled in him colorful opinions against the Faunus."

Ozpin thought about it carefully. Salem had the power to overrun and destroy the world at any second, should she wish it. Not only did she command the Grimm but her own magical abilities remained at full capacity. For all the time fighting, Ozpin had long since wondered why she hadn't done that if she hated the new world so much. He could chalk it up to cruelty. Why go for a quick strike when she could draw it out for maximum suffering?

"An attack such as this...I feel was designed to enflame the faunus. It is flashy, overt, and inherently political. She could have sent an assassin to attack Ghira at his home for example but the outrage would be less compared to the bombing which occurred." Ozpin mused. "Leonardo has reported that the Mistrali White Fang have banded under Sienna Khan in the Wilds. He has sent huntsmen to south to ask her to disarm themselves but they have refused."

"I do not envy him," Ironwood sighed. Leonardo Lionheart was the Headmaster for Haven Academy. While it kept itself mostly apolitical, Leo had the unfortunate burden of Haven being in Mistral, arguably a kingdom more corrupt and degenerate than Atlas. At the very least, Ironwood could count on the military to be the ones to safeguard the kingdom. Mistral had none.

"As for Fantom....I will look into that. I have my hands full here with the Fleur-de-lis. They are demanding a restoration of Vale's armies to help protect the kingdom," Ozpin sighed, feeling another headache coming up. "The unrest in Vacuo and Mistral have convinced certain councillors of the necessity. I have been busy trying to contain their influence but there is only so much I could do."

He should have done something about Armand Rouge and his organization. He knew his former minister too much that the man wanted nothing more but to restore the monarchy through a royal cousin, the Winchesters, and restore the Valean Army. He already had gathered himself a mercenary company as well, the Valean Musketeers, and staffed it with those of his former army.

"...What should we do, Ozpin? Everyday, Remnant looks to be tethering on unrest," Ironwood asked after a pregnant pause.

The consequences of his choices was starting to haunt him, Ozpin bemoaned. He took in a breath. "Out of everyone, Theodore needs help the most. Vacuo's political situation is growing drastic with the breaking of Jax Asturias. I am certain that Salem's hand is active in this. As soon as he has found Jax Asturias, I will send him over to you. I am caught by the politics here to move myself. You have the advantage of Atlas's military to act as your hand, James. I only ask that you are not too heavy handed with it."

Ironwood grimaced. "Vacuo, Mistral...nowhere is safe and quiet it seems."

"So it would seem," Ozpin sighed. He felt tired, the weight of all his past lives coming up on him. But he couldn't give up, not now. "We cannot give up, however. The fate of Remnant is on our hands."

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Their shrieks were piercing through the cold air of Solitas, a chorus of darkness bearing upon the shining hill in the distance. But they would not reach it, not while the Atlesian Navy stilled existed. Cutting through the clouds like silver blades, the sleek and bird-like destroyers cut through and launched its payload against the Grimm horde. Autocannons, energy lances, missile pods bore down on the tightly packed horde of darkness. Explosions tore through them like a scythe going through wheat, torn flesh and bone flew high into the air as the Navy continued to pummel them. Atlesian cruisers moved forward, their engines a low hum that signaled the Grimm's destruction. With heavier cannons and two concentrated laser cannons that fired a concentrated beam of energy, they were relentless as they turned bits and pieces of Solitas into newer rock. One ship targeted a concentrated cluster of Grimm, each one larger than the last with a King Taijutsu snaking through the snow. The cruisers sighted the snake creature and fired; the laser cannons first humming with electric distortions then finally, it's heavy payload was unleashed.

That was not the end.

In the village of Metzen, Silver Shield units were fighting for their very lives. Joined by the town militia, everyone who could hold a weapon stood behind raised walls and earthworks giving their all to protect themselves. Deuces, Buzzsaws, Defender rifles were a rapacious cacophony of death felling incoming Grimm alike. A Silver Shield glanced forward, replacing the worn out barrel of his Buzzsaw for a new one. He cried out, "Where the hell is the Atlesian Navy?"

His reply was the sound of a low buzzing sound in the distance followed by the cracking of thunder. Not a second later, the distance ahead of him was like a scene of gods battling. Artillery shells landed and kicked up Grimm parts sky high with concentrated blasts. Fire was not just there too but multiple black orbs appeared and like the black holes it was named after sucked in anything close to them with a violent pulling wind. When everything was done, only massive craters remained. The low humming that came from earlier finally manifested as multiple saucer like aircraft poured forth from the south, a salvo of rockets launching from its pods underneath its saucer body. The autocannons of the craft fired too, kicking up snow and Grimm parts like they were nothing. The allegiance of the craft was quickly known as they turned, revealing a outstretched eagle painted on its sides.

I let out a whistle as I leaned back against my chair, the video I was watching inserting patriotic music just in time as Crocodile hovered close before the gate like a knight defending the entrance to a castle, its autocannons booming in defiance against the Grimm. Some enterprising Shields thought it would be a good idea to livestream their struggles in the front. In the video I was watching, the Shield in question was stationed in a village close to Atlas/Mantle so it still had good connection to the CCT. There were people commenting as the Crocodiles tore the Grimm a new asshole.

POSTED BY: AYAYAYA

"The reason leaving inside my brain when explosions"

POSTED BY: imontv

"CANNON GO BRRRR"

POSTED BY: gold33n

"ENCORE ENCORE ENCORE"

I was going to have to find this Shield in question and give them a smooch to the cheek because that was probably one of the best marketing for Royal and Imperial I've ever seen. As terrible as crisis moments were, they tended to be the time when the company was getting rush orders. A fair trade, I think. Remnant gets to live through historical moments, the company gets money by the dozen. 

"mhm," Emerald grumbled, tossing and turning on her bed. I lowered the volume on my scroll for her consideration. When the explosion happened, I had ordered us to return to the manor immediately and had the Shields go on high alert. At that time, I did not know that the White Fang had gotten their shit kicked in. But when the news pundits rolled in, my face began to sweat, my eyes watered, and my mouth went agape as I realized that the peaceful Fang could kiss their ideals goodbye. 

I leaned in, kissing Emerald on her forehead softly before leaving. She hadn't wanted me to leave until she slept. Now that she was, I was free. And by free, check in on dad. 

As usual, I found him in his study, looking gravelly behind his desk and...talking to a woman. I waited until he finished his conversation before making myself known. "I thought you were going after Willow?" I asked.

He snorted as he leaned back on his chair. "That was Willow," he smirked. His expression became much more serious as he pressed on some buttons on his desk. "Willow's told me that they're already experiencing attacks. Mostly their delivery trucks in Vale and Mistral." 

"Would it even still be her problem? The SDC is going to shatter itself soon?" I asked. 

"It won't be her problem, no," father said with a nod. "However, it will be an Atlesian problem. The companies that will spring from this will need protection for its workers, its trucks, and its assets. Atlas will have no choice but to defend those." 

"And with each casualty, it will only piss off the faunus even more," I surmised, already seeing a cycle of pain and hurt coming from this. 

"Mhm," Gerard nodded. He paused, looking at me. "I assume you are here for something?" 

"Yes," I nodded. "What are we going to do about it the bomb attack?" 

"Absolutely nothing," Gerard said, earning surprise from me. "We make guns, son. We do not involve ourselves in a national matter such as this." 

"Really? I thought you would jump at the chance and offer assistance with the investigation. With our semblance, we could find out how things went rather easily," I said. There would be very good publicity coming from us assisting with the investigation. I am sure the White Fang and Menagerie would appreciate it if we helped find out who hurt their Ghira and other officials. 

Father sat quietly, listening to me. "I will not forbid you if you want to help out in the investigation, son. I will tell you that we shouldn't involve in that. We are already in far too many stews, son." 

"Well, if you are not forbidding me, I will be asking around if I can help out," I said, turning on my heels. 

​And with that, I called Winter. 

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She stood outside the cold, shivering even despite the heavy coat on her. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. With Atlas returned to ground with Mantle, there was no massive landmass protecting the lowlands from the winds. Nature revelled in this, pushing in biting wind that would seriously give anyone frostbite if they did not protect themselves well. Alexander had given her a call asking about the possibility of assisting with the investigation. She was not sure how exactly he could help since he wasn't exactly someone trained in such things but he was a patron of the military and he did have that artificer semblance. 

A quick word with Ironwood and soon, there she was standing outside their HQ waiting for his bullhead to arrive. He was slated to come in a few minutes and with precision and efficiency that Atlesians was famous for, his bullhead docked. The side doors opened and her eyes were beheld to the man she had complicated feelings for. They...hadn't really spoken about her kissing him on the cheek thing. It relieved and terrified Winter. In one hand, she feared she had over-stepped in kissing him on the cheek. She..she just couldn't help it when he acted so calm and comforting towards Emerald. And on the other hand, he probably had swept it aside to not torture her feelings. She...she honestly did not know. 

She was glad at least that he was here. He brought her some manner of comfort. "Mister Wayland," she greeted him, her voice professional. "General Ironwood is inside," 

His eyes widened at her formal tone but he acquiesed, recognizing that now wasn't the time to be familiar. "Let's get to him, then." he said, stepping forward as Winter led the way. 

"What has the military found out?" Alexander asked as the two made their way through the base. It was on high alert, soldiers marching in columns or aircraft ready to go out on sorties. In the distance, ships were entering and re-entering the base as they rotated from their duties out in the open.

"We have a promising lead with the driver of the van," Winter revealed. "Jasper Fantom. He's currently missing however." 

"Let me guess, strong opinions against the faunus?" Alexander surmised. Winter nodded. "And a Valean immigrant. That is the strongest facts we have on him so far." 

He hummed as they finally entered the base. All around, soldiers stood at the ready or were patrolling in pairs. They were given a wide berth, Winter getting recognized as a Specialist and Alexander being...Alexander. He mostly stayed silent as they passed through numerous guards and checkpoints, Winter getting challenged with a password before entering through new hallways. "Security's tight," Alexander noted. 

"General Ironwood isn't waiting for another disaster to happen. These measures are necessary for national security, Alex," Winter said as they halted before a great steel door protected by two guards who turned at one towards us. 

"Sycorax," the first guard challenged. 

"Everest," Winter replied. At that, the two guards relaxed and clicked into their headpieces. "Let them in." 

The two walked in, Alex whistling at the professionalism displayed. Seeing that, Winter beamed. "That was just the first. General Ironwood is going to have new passwords change everyday. Only those with sufficient rank can enter sections as they themselves will be told about it through private channels." 

"And if someone presents the wrong password?" Alexander asked, curious.

"Then they are going to be detained until further notice," she said, shrugging her shoulders as they entered into a lab of sorts. It was empty, save for a few people busy at work behind their scrolls or workstations and the guards posted around each corner. 

"A bit empty, isn't it?" Alexander asked. Before Winter could answer, her eyes turned to the side and she quickly stood at attention, back ramrod straight, and eyes forward. "General Ironwood, sir!" 

​"We've exhausted analysing every single avenue. There's only so much that can be gleamed before it is over," General Ironwood said, striding over to them. His overcoat was stashed somewhere. His appearance may have been less official without his General's overcoat but that did not make him any less strong. 

"General Ironwood," Alexander said, nodding at him. He was not a member of the military and did not need to salute. Despite the stress, Ironwood managed him a smile. 

"We've seen videos and reports about your new weapons. I can think of no better tests for them than in the field," Ironwood said, smiling for the first time since the affair began. "The new artillery pieces and the gunships have proven to be popular. I already have frontline troops requesting access to the Silver Shield network so that they too can call in strikes." 

"I will be happy to share that," Alexander beamed. "So with your praise, I assume that our collaboration will continue?" 

​Ironwood nodded. "Royal and Imperial will be our foundry once more. I shall discuss the finer details with you and your father at a later date. Now...it is a bit hectic," he said, tone apologetic. 

Alexander's face was sympathetic. "Oh, I understand perfectly, General. In fact, that is the reason why I am here." 

Winter nodded. "Mister Wayland says he can assist through his semblance, General. Apparently, he can look into an item's past and see how it was used." 

​"That sounds very useful indeed," Ironwood said, surprise on his face. "This will make our investigation easier. Is there anything that you need before you start?" 

"Other than showing me where your items are, I can start whenever," Alexander said. With that, Ironwood gestured to the side with one arm. Alexander nodded his thanks and strode forward, eyes scanning the items laying on a raised platform at the center of the room. 

"We've managed to recover what parts we could and restored it to what it looked like," Ironwood said, striding behind Alexander and Winter following behind as a ever dutiful shadow. 

​"You haven't recovered much, no offense," Alexander said, nothing that only a few parts remained, the back part of the van devoid of anything. "The back parts gone so I assume that the bomb was placed there." 

"That is what we think so as well," Ironwood revealed. "The back part of the van had melted so the dust bomb was stashed there. We feel that is what ultimately saved Ghira's life. If the bomb had been placed in the middle of the van then he would have faced the brunt of it and his aura would have broken. By having it in the back, he was mostly at the periphery of its range." 

"How is his injuries?" Alexander asked, one hand placed on the transmission, his face turned to them for clarification. Ironwood turned briefly to Winter who nodded.

"Ghira Belladonna suffers from aura break. The injuries he sustained are mostly burns particularly on his chest. Madam Belladonna has shrapnel that cut into her. Blake Belladonna...she's become unconscious as well. If Madam Kali hadn't shielded, her injuries would be far more worse." Winter reported. 

​Alexander's expression was surprise then turned into grim acceptance. "Then it's time to see how this all happened. I am sure the Belladonnas will appreciate it if we find who did this to them," he declared as he turned to transmission. His hand glowed red as he hovered an open palm on the burnt remains. As he did so, Ironwood nodded to Winter who quickly produced her scroll to record what was happening. The few personnel remaining also had stood up to watch the spectacle. 

​The grim look on his face never vanished even as he finished, pulling back his hand. "This van was produced in a automobile factory two years ago in Mantle. It passed hands numerous times until it was acquired by its current company." 

Winter nodded. It matched the information provided by the transport and logistics company. "That is correct." she confirmed. 

"Interesting its journey was, I think you would all be thrilled to know that a bomb was never planted inside this van," Alexander dropped with little hesitation, earning murmurs and gasps from the others. Ironwood stepped forward, face severe. 

"How did it explode if it did not come from a bomb then?" he asked. Alexander lifted his hand to where the back windows of the van was. 

"The ones who did this stashed store bought dust canisters in the back. A shooter was the one that triggered it via a dust bullet. There, it exploded," Alexander revealed. "From this...I assume they were banking on us not expecting to find a bullet in a bomb blast. I feel they were trying to be clever about it. A bomb would leave behind evidence. With this, they could have just purchased dust from a store and it could come from anywhere." 

"Winter, I want all recent dust purchases on Atlas looked into immediately!" Ironwood roared. Winter was ready to turn on her heels to fulfill the General's orders but Alexander spoke again, and quickly. "No need. My semblance shows me exactly the 'memories' of a machine so to speak. I know who you are looking for." 

"Who?" Ironwood asked, his voice teething on the edge. 

"Pen and paper, please," Alexander requested. One of the investigation personnel ran up with the requested items. 

"I am not the best artist but I will draw what I can," Alexander said, putting into paper what he had seen from his semblance. Ironwood and Winter glanced up, watching Alexander work. By the time he had finished, he had drawn up a woman who was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and expression grim. Her clothing was flashy, ornate. She looked like the average huntress that plied their trade. The one that caught her attention however was a medallion against her chest. It had a symbol of something.

Twin axes before a fleur-de-lis

Vale.

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A/N: Updoot. Now that my summer classes are going to be over soon, you can best expect faster updates. Until then, enjoy.