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The man before was scared, that was easy to see.

Wilhelm Yeaman was well into his middle-age, his face was sagging and his hair combed neatly. His voice was soft, like a whisper and his eyes was just as soft as well.

"I...I hate it too, Councillor Geyer. This...this disaster," Yeaman whispered. His accent was aristocratic, genteel.

"Yet you hesitate," Florianne pointed out, sitting across his desk. They were in his office now, two glasses of wine between them. Outside his window, chants of protestors carried across the air, demanding Jacques Schnee's head.

While Ironwood was off keeping watch over the mine, Florianne was left behind to convince the one lame-duck Councillor about the benefits of giving Jacques Schnee the finger. She could see the desire in Yeaman to do the right thing but yet, he hesitated.

"Going against the SDC, against Jacques Schnee...it's a daunting thing," Yeaman sighed, gripping the ends of his chair. "Not just that, your idea to go and nationalize the SDC? It's another thing too."

"General Ironwood and I agree that the SDC has proven incapable of providing its service. Last month, they struggled to repair their supply lines. This time, it's the mine disaster. I have it on good authority as well that other SDC mines are suspect," Florianne repeated herself yet again, having explained her plan to Yeaman minutes earlier. "Surely, that is good enough reason to break up the monopoly Jacques Schnee has made?"

"It's because of its size, Councillor, that I hesitate," Yeaman replied again. "To break it all up would require tremendous political will. It would take decades to see this through, should it happen. What will this mean for the economy? For our military? The government would be paralyzed for years trying to do this. Furthermore, the SDC under Jacques would fight us every step of the way."

That made sense to Florianne. The SDC was big and so was its pockets to hire legions of lawyers, she assumed. That was enough to make a man hesitate then there too was the fact that Yeaman would be putting himself at tremendous personal risk. She and Ironwood could be confident in their case. She had the protection of the Bund and Ironwood had the prestige of the Academy, in the military, and with the other Huntsman Academy leaders as well.

Yeaman, the son of aristocrats and a holdover of the old regimen, had nothing. His family was connected to select political parties she'd rather never utter the names of.

"I am sorry, Councillor. I cannot support or vote whatever scheme you and General Ironwood have in mind," Yeaman ended. That would have been it but still, he cast his eyes downwards in shame.

Florianne considered her approach.

She found one.

"The reason why I left Atlas, Councillor Yeaman, was because of what it had turned too," Florianne began. Yeaman looked up from the floor, his eyes settling on her. "I saw the men and women of the Color Revolution compromise their ideals in the name of personal gain. All from the bounty of the SDC. We all knew how Jacques Schnee found the money for it, letting the faunus suffer and bullying companies to be sold to him. It was illegal, it was horrendous yet nothing was done. It sickened me so much that I left."

Yeaman's expression betrayed his true feelings. Marianne saw the disgust flare in his eyes the more she spoke. And so, she continued.

"It sickened my father as well. He was a traditionalist type, hard-working and honest. He saw it too, the degeneration of honesty in Atlas. But we were minor nobility that lost whatever influence we had from the Color Revolution. So the best thing he could do to protest was moving out too," Florianne recounted, smiling. "He was the firm type but even he wished for rightness."

"Do not misunderstand me, Councillor," Yeaman spoke up again, his tone clarifying. "I am sickened by this too but what you and General Ironwood are too radical!"

"All General Ironwood and I are asking you, Councillor Yeaman, is to free Atlas from Jacque Schnee's grip," Florianne said softly, but firmly. She leaned in, looking into his eyes.

"You hate it. You are sickened by it. And now? Now is the time for you to act upon it," Florianne continued, her voice now encouraging. There was still hesitation on Yeaman's eyes but he was starting to look reflective too.

"When the rescue is over, I have no doubt we will return to questioning Jacques with new evidence to mind. When the time comes, we will deliberate on the SDC's fate. Five votes. Ironwood and I and with you, that is enough to nail him." She then stood up, Yeaman's gaze following hers.

"For Atlas, for everything that is good and right now, Mister Yeaman," Florianne said. "And for the unborn millions yet to come."

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Hammering, drilling, labour.

When the roaring of industry meant noise and pollution, now it was the sound of salvation. The whirring of drills was the most frequent, chopping and pushing apart rock and stone of the Solitan Mountains. After the Atlesian Navy and its complement of marines had cleared away any Grimm that had wandered into the confines of the mine, the relief teams were granted access to finally do their work. Geologists and Dust prospectors from all the Kingdoms were ushered in first. They were to find out if Dust residue had fallen to a safe level and see if another blast would be possible.

The fact that drills of different shapes and sizes were going at it to the dirt meant that it was safe now.

Clad in warm furs, Winter pressed a finger against a button. Quickly, a holographic map of the mine appeared. The way the mind was dug resembled that of a corkscrew going downward and downwards. General Ironwood had approved of and with assistance from the generous civilian volunteers established proper facilities to house people and material. A necessity since they were in the coldest region of Solitas after all and no one was that stupidly optimistic to think that they could go and find someone so soon.

She sighed. It had already been four days since the digging had started. The first was spent by the Navy clearing the area. The second was clearing the debris and rubble and whatever impediments lay that would slow down operations. A day and a half was again spent both in establishing habitation blocks and drilling. Now was the fourth. The plan was to bore holes into the ground in a circle then rapidly closing in. With each drill, they would then send scanners down into the tunnels that could go and emit a unseen wave that could detect signs of life. It was a generous donation from the Valean Maritime Institute. Primarily used to scan the ocean floor, now used to save miners.

So far, no luck. Each tunnel that they had bored into revealed nothing but cold dead silence.

With each passing hour of drilling and finding nothing, the more it made Winter feel that there really was no one left alive down there. The numbers had come in revealing that the blast was perhaps the strongest explosion in recorded history. If the blast hadn't killed people then the chain reaction of it going through the tunnels would have.

Then, a voice joined her. "Looking at the tunnels again?"

It was Alexander, Winter found. They never had a proper chance to talk until now. He was too busy organizing the movement of people from ordinary volunteers to his now private army of Mistrali veterans. Winter resisted the urge to frown. Their leader, Cheng, was someone she automatically had a disliking too. Perhaps it was the way she held herself, cocksure and arrogant. Or perhaps it was the way she glanced at Alexander when she didn't think anyone was looking at her. Winter was quite sure that Mistrali royal had something up her sleeve, something not pretty she felt. But whatever her feelings towards her, Winter had to admit that she and her band were what they claimed to be.

Half of them had traded their weapons and armor for picks and scanners, doing the heavy work with the other volunteers while the other half was outside the perimeter making sure that any Grimm wouldn't wander in. She was surprised that the migrating hordes of Grimm hadn't walked in on them but the answer why became clear to Winter when she would look around.

She saw it on the faces of every miner donning their gear and putting on their headlight helmets. It was flashing in the eyes of the soldiers who worked with the miners too or as they braved the cold of the outside as they guarded the perimeter circle. It was the cry of effort that left each of their lips, the fire that burned their hearts against the squeezing grip of the universe. The one thing that drove men and women to greater heights of defiance.

Hope.

Winter shook her head to refocus on her task. Pressing a few more buttons, certain sections of the map was alit with green. "I was just trying to see how much of the tunnels had been drilled and map. This is the latest record that the SDC had of Courrières but I cannot help but feel we are missing something..." Winter said.

"Missing what?" Alexander asked, walking up to watch the mine.

"The map here is outdated. This was a geological map made a year ago. There could have been expansions to the mine that weren't recorded yet," Winter explained.

"Would it be possible that they were never recorded at all?" Alexander theorized, his voice full of implication.

Winter grimaced. She knew exactly what Alex was trying to get at and she wouldn't fault him for thinking that way. The SDC was notorious for its slipping quality and...gifts to those in certain positions. She never really was brought into that before, her father kept his actual cards close but her snooping around in their records as she searched for evidence to present to the Council had all but confirmed to her that everytime the government had asked for safety reports of the mine, the SDC sent the same thing over and over again.

"It's possible, yes. My father saved on things where money should be spent," Winter sighed. There was no pleasure on Alexander's face but rather, a grimace. She took a quick glance around to confirm if they were alone and to her satisfaction, they were. The staff were all still away for their lunch break.

"No offense, Winter, but your father is a right rat bastard," Alexander swore freely. Winter didn't need to be told that twice.

"And water is wet. He..." she paused. Thinking about her father made her feel nothing but disgust and shame that she was related to the man. She needed a clear mind to speak lest her words be poisoned.

"He used to have his moments where one thought he was a good man," Winter sighed. But then, she looked back to the tunnels.

Her eyes narrowed, her hands closing into a fist. "He was never good in the first place. Whatever decency there was in him ossified a long time ago. And because of this...I wish to see him behind chains."

"You want to imprison your own father?" Alexander asked, surprised. Feigned or not, she didn't care to find out. Instead, she nodded.

"Yes. This? If he doesn't end up behind bars after this then that would be a miscarriage of justice."

"Surely you gotta go and be back at Atlas then? Find the proper stuff to leak them?" Alexander pointed out.

"It wasn't enough," Winter admitted. "I may be the Heiress but my father has kept the most critical files for his eyes only, a sanitized version of it made available only for his trusted employees to read. Even the files I found sufficient were made to look as innocuous as possible. This mine...this place? Once we can gather enough evidence here then we can go and present it to the council."

Her father may be short-sighted and greedy but he had developed means to cover himself well. His answers at the Council Chambers a few days ago was a sign of that. But his words could still be enough to damn him. Winter leant forward, pointing to a few small lines that led upwards. "You see those lines?"

Alexander followed. "What about them?"

"They're ventilation shafts," she explained. "They serve to let air get inside the mine but are also a way for miners to escape via ladder access. The fact that no miner has gotten out from there means that the ladders were never there in the first place."

There too was the idea that everyone down there was dead but she refused to entertain that idea, not when there was much of the mine to scan.

"Did I mention that I hated your father?" Alexander asked as he considered what she had said. Despite the whole situation, Winter couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes. Yes you did, repeatedly," Winter snickered. A part of her felt that it was inappropriate to smile and laugh especially their given situation but...they have been hard at work for four days now. Some cheer was good morale.

Alexander shook his head, crossing his arms as he glanced outside. "Help is still pouring in from the outside, mostly from aid organizations but also from big names too like Beacon. Their headmaster's dispatched a team led by a unpleasant gangly Mistrali. Something about him felt unlucky to me so I had him placed mostly on guard duty in the perimeter. The students however were much more useful so, the other two are helping out with the Gold Teams while the rest are with the Black Teams."

Winter couldn't help but be amused. "Their leader felt unlucky to you so you had him stay in the cold of Solitas?"

"Mhm mhm," Alexander nodded.

"How unlucky," Winter tutted. Alexander paused, glancing at Winter with eyes as wide as saucers before finally, he laughed. Winter snorted first then joined in with him. He wiped a tear away, his belly laugh dying into a chuckle as he grinned at her.

"You have a sense of humor. Who knew?" Alexander said, still not believing what he had heard.

"General Ironwood has said that good humor keeps the dark thoughts away," Winter recalled.

"I never ever recall the General Ironwood as someone who makes jokes," Alexander muttered. "He always looked like he was contemplating something important."

Winter forgot that Alexander had chosen to leave the Academy. That and he wasn't really getting into further contact with the General unlike her.

"He has his moments, I admit, but you are correct he can be focused at times," Winter nodded in agreement. "If he were here, I have no doubt he would want us to focus too."

General Ironwood had left a single Destroyer to watch over the mines. He took his cruiser and the other destroyer away to shadow a Grimm horde not to far from them. If there was an emergency, he would return to the mine immediately. If the horde decided to migrate then he would be blasting them away with his squadron.

"Speaking of him, you are joining his ranks soon, correct?" Alexander suddenly asked. Winter's eyes widened. Her plans to run off to the military was something she kept close to her chest.

"How did you know?" Winter asked both in surprise and a little wariness.

He shrugged. "You were always a star pupil, Winter. No one places that much effort in Atlas Academy not unless they are itching for a position in the military. And besides, you'd make a great Specialist."

"...You think so?" Winter asked

"Absolutely," Alexander nodded with utter certainty.

"I see..." Winter coughed, looking away. After a minute or two of doing so, she glanced back looking just fine. "I do plan to enter the Specialists, yes. The SDC is too tainted for me to stay there far longer."

She sighed. "It is no longer my grandfather's cherished company. My father's influence is too great, too deep. I would not cry if the Council decides to dissolve it and merely allows my family to keep a few mines to our name."

The board was corrupt and the rot had seeped down the tree. There was no saving an old rotten tree whose only purpose was to steal the nutrients of the forest, letting the other plants suffer. It needed to be slashed down to its roots for new life to grow. She had no doubt that by the time Weiss would come of age, she would be managing a smaller but cleaner SDC. From there, she would grow it however she wished, take it to new heights not seen since her grandfather's day.

"Most people of our caliber wouldn't think like that, you know. They'd want their money makers intact as possible," Alexander commented.

Winter chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, please. Even if the SDC was downsized, Alexander, my family would still want for nothing. Our accumulated wealth alone would be enough to run a small country without ever worrying about taxing its citizens."

From someone else, it would be an arrogant boast. But Winter was not exaggerating. It was a fact. The primary reason her father hadn't approved a rescue was cost but looking at the current expenses the rescue was generating was trivial. It would barely even be a dip in the ocean.

Winter however was under no illusions as to how their wealth was gained. They had made it off the sale of Dust, yes, but also at spending little or nothing at other areas.

And look at where it had gotten them now.

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The man died with a bloody throaty gurgle. It was not a scream, Roland found, but the sound of it? The life fading from his eyes?

It was glorious.

They had been staking out encampment of faunus trying to make their way south, towards the animal kingdom called Menegarie. Groups of the animals were always the best targets as they tended to be filled with valuables, women, and children. Roland didn't mind the others getting their shiny shit or their girls. As long as they left him the young ones.

He liked them like that, fresh and innocent. He figured he was being a teacher to them and his lessons were eye opening to the way the world works.

The weak fall, the strong rule.

But this encampment was disappointing, Roland found, as they combed through the bodies. There were no women or children, nothing valuable even. Just another band of worthless faunus carrying picks and other shit.

He was wrong then. They weren't going south to Menagerie. They were going North, something about the mine collapse there.

Roland really didn't care. That was animal business and if that pretty boy Wayland thought he could play hero, let him. Thinking about him now, Roland felt his pants tighten a bit.

He shook his head. He could always take care of that later. For now, they had to take whatever shit they could find.

"Move it!" he ordered, returning his sword to his sheath. "Raven wants to get us moving as soon as possible and I don't want you fuckers to get us left behind!"

The others made their grumbling but obeyed. Roland was stronger than them, very strong. Not as strong as Raven was but that bitch had something in her that made her fight hard. But as they worked, Roland could not help but notice some unease in the men.

The other tribes had started whispering about a fierce group hunting down honest and hardworking folk like them down with a vengeance the Gods would bring. To Roland, that was bollocks. Probably another feel good Huntsman thinking they were the shit and trying to solve the bandit problem around Mistral. Frankly, they were wasting their time.

They were not going anytime soon for as long as Mistral liked to be crazy. Even Roland recognized that. He wasn't going to do anything about it though. Why would he when the Branwen tribe benefited so much from the chaos?

He yawned, sitting his ass down on a nearby crate and watched the others worked. He was getting old now sure but he could still fuck like a bull.

He glanced at one of the men. Not as young as he would like but he looked young enough. Tonight, he was going to go into that boy's tent and show him why Roland was strong.

But unfortunately for Roland, the rumor he dismissed made their presence known.

Suddenly and without warning, heavy repeating gunfire echoed from somewhere. The men not caught by the onslaught were torn to pieces, their auras not exactly activated just yet. Roland however had his on. He fell onto the dirt, trying his best to look as small as possible, as the hail of bullets continued.

Then just as quickly as it appeared, the bullet storm stopped.

Stupefied, Roland glanced up and crawled forward, putting his back against a fallen crate. He reached for his belt and pulled out a revolver. Cocking it, he glanced over his cover. "YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! DO YOU HAVE A DEATHWISH? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO YOU ARE FUCKING WITH?"

"SILENCE, HEATHEN!" an old man's voice replied. Roland spat, disbelief in his features. Heathen?

"Who the fuck are you to call me heathen, old shit!?" Roland cried out, fully exposing himself.

"MY NAME IS CAPTAIN JOHN BROWN!" John Brown roared. "AND I AM HERE IN THE NAME OF THE GOD OF LIGHT, HE WHOM MEN WAS BROUGHT FORTH AND YOUR MAKER! I HEARBY ORDER YOU TO GIT, GIT IN HIS HOLY NAME! FOR HE IS ON THE SIDE OF JUSTICE AND YOU ARE ON THE SIDE OF CHAINS!"

Just as he finished speaking, Roland noticed movement next to brown. Faunus and fellow humans, armed to the teeth with guns he had never seen before. One of the faunus, a tiger one, marched up with a boxy machine gun, still smoking.

Then, she pulled the trigger.



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A/N: Updoot. Sorry for lateness compared to usual. I have been busy for today with uni stuff. Fatter update will come after I wake up soon. 

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russell marsh

You can run on for a long time Run on for a long time Run on for a long time Sooner or later God'll cut you down Sooner or later God'll cut you down