Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 16 (Patreon)

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Laughs echoed around the table.

Georg Yeaman tried his best to ignore it but that and the drowning music being played by the live band made it hard. Instead, he glanced down at his soup, noting its richness and taste. The day had turned to night and most had already went home. General Conrad had decided to invite him, Councillor Ferdinand, and Jacques Schnee to his manor for dinner. Geyer was invited but the eccentric woman had turned it down to go home. And by home, back again into the frontier. He coughed suddenly, the smell of smoke entering his nostrils. 

​General Conrad had decided to smoke, a fat cigar in his mouth. He leaned back on his chair, chuckling at a joke Councillor Ferdinand had muttered. 

"No one's going to be alive down there," he said in kind. "I'm a military man, you know? If the blast hadn't killed them, debris would. It would be a miracle if someone would be alive."

"And miracles are rare," Ferdinand nodded. He turned to Jacques Schnee, leaning in. "Mine blast aside, Jacques, you are aware that no matter how hard we will try to spin this for you, this event is simply far too public for us to let you off the hook. If we give you the concessions you asked for, there will be outrage." 

"I understand, Councillor," Jacques Schnee replied. He had set his wine glass aside to think. "Again, my daughter is at the mine. SDC trucks with Dust and Lien are publicly going out to support the rescue efforts. The average Atlesian will see that and think that the SDC had went on to give a helping hand. That will be justifiable enough for the concessions." 

"Mhm," General Conrad nodded. "A fine and indemnities to the families to keep them quiet." 

"And besides, the public will forget about this within a week or two," Jacques continued, snorting. "Public opinion may be heavy but it is fickle. Soon enough, some celebrity scandal will explode or another international incident. Right now, they are focused on the rescue. This will grant me enough time to handle deficiencies in the mines."

"Oh?" Conrad asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I will be shutting down select mines my men have found dangerous. While it's a sacrifice on my part, it is admittedly dangerous. Another mine blast would be disastrous," Jacques sighed. 

"And bad for business," Ferdinand muttered. Nods of agreement broke out. Yeaman joined in, hesitantly.

"If any case, I am prepared to face the outcome of Courrières. For one, I had bought it from a previous mining company that had neglected to maintain it," Jacques revealed. 

"But what if people ask why it hadn't been made safe?" Yeaman spoke up, hating how weak his voice made him sound. Jacques turned to him, eyes boring down onto Yeaman's soul. It felt like someone devoid of any human emotion or worth was looking at him. 

"Then it was the fault of the site managers," Jacques said, shrugging his shoulders. "They sent misleading reports to corporate while keeping the money for themselves. This disaster is a boon in disguise, in fact. This will give me the excuse to purge the SDC of incompetent and inefficient men and women." 

Yeaman was quite sure that the incompetent and inefficient men Jacques Schnee was talking about were the few good souls that still worked in that company. If he would do that then the SDC would truly be the inhuman and unfeeling corporate monster people were accusing them off. 

"Wouldn't this upset the faunus?" Yeaman tried again. 

​Silence descended in the room as Conrad, Ferdinand, and Jacques glanced at Yeaman. Then, the room erupted into laughter. Yeaman's cheeks flushed as he glanced away. 

"What can they do, wave signs at us?" Ferdinand sneered. 

"The faunus can do nothing, Yeaman. Look at the facts," Conrad snorted as he leaned in. "Menagerie and the White Fang will protest about this but what can they do to oppose us? Menagerie is dirt poor and wasteland besides. They cannot declare war on us since they have no army, no means of transporting them to Solitas in the first place."

"And I am the biggest employer of their kind here in Solitas and elsewhere, Councillor," Jacques added in, eyes glinting. "Who employs faunus en masse? Who allows them to send their children to school, the one that puts food on their table and clothes that they wear? They can strike, they can protest but in the end, they will return to me. The average man on the street will be annoyed at them as he has placed his support and money in the ongoing rescue efforts. He will think, 'We have rescued their friends already and they want more from me?"

​He shook his head. "No. They need me." 

"Us," Ferdinand quickly added. A flash of annoyance went in Jacques eyes but it was quickly hidden as he lifted his wine glass. 

"Us," he said. General Conrad roared his approval and lifted his glass. Soon, the clinking of glasses echoed. Yeaman too had lifted his glass, his face that of enthusiasm.

But something in his soul gnawed at him. 

Was this something that he was really going to let happen? 

His family had lost much when the Color Revolution overthrew the old world order and replaced it with the new. His family owed its current influence now thanks to Jacques Schnee and his money. They had silently watched as the nation they were sworn to defend and serve as nobility turned into that of preening gangsters. Jacques Schnee had brought economic boons to Atlas but there was no pride or craftsmanship to his gains. Of sacred Atlas, which was a nation of inventors and tinkers, of artists and warriors, he has corrupted into a nation of avarice and inhumanity, led by liars and men who would happily sell their own mothers if it meant a bit more money. 

It was then, Yeaman made his decision. 

He was sitting on the fence no longer.

+++

"NO NO NO!" 

"TAKE IT WITH THE GODS, HEATHEN!" 

​A click, a flash, then the shriek of a man before his face exploded in a brilliant show of blood and gore. Sienna felt no remorse nor pity from that as she watched John Brown empty a single Deuce round into the man fallen before him. The bandit had taken cover behind a fallen crate before exposing himself and emptying his gun of bullets towards them. Near every man in their group had their aura activated and took the shots to themelves. When the bandit had run out, they opened fire as one. More screams came from the raided camp as the remaining bandits were torn apart by their fusillade of fire. She had taken the liberty of donning their single Deuce machine gun before Brown asked to borrow it. 

Hefting it in his hands, he lead the way as a avenging speartip did and shot dead whoever was left alive. 

​Sienna had thought that she would be disgusted by all this violence but it was the opposite of it. Perhaps it was long buried inside of her, tempered by the pacifism that the Belladonnas had tried to lead their people with but no, she relished it. She loved this. Finally, after a lifetime of isolation and suppresion, the drive for action exploded out of her in one inferno. 

​She and Brown had gotten off at a small village-port and were met by Brown's League. While it was filled with Faunus, it too had many humans as well. Together, they had set off with delivered R&I weapons to hunt for the faithless, as Brown called them.

And hunt they did. 

​They didn't even have to go out long before they were accosted by highwaymen intent on robbing them of their goods. Their concentrated firepower made short work of the fools. There were plenty such bandit groups around but Brown was focused on the Branwen tribe in particular. Sienna didn't really argue. Out of all the bandit tribes around Mistral, they were easily the worst and also the strongest. Brown's logic was by taking them down first, it would send a stronger message to the tribes that not even their strongest would be safe. 

​But back to reality now, Sienna turned her head up in disgust. The bodies were starting to stink, as if the rot in their souls were leaving them. 

"Plenty more to go," Brown suddenly said, appearing next to her. "One by one, we will purge this wicked land of sinners with these dead. Eventually, the Branwens will come for us." 

SIenna glanced up at him. "Us?"

Old Brown nodded, gesturing to the corpses now being taken up by the militiamen to burn. The effort was led by one of Brown's lieutenants. Sienna hadn't spoken much to him but she did catch his name as Sherman. "The Branwen Tribe believe that only the strongest have the right to rule. By attacking them, we are challenging their claim. Their leader will take up this challenge and seek us out."

"Aren't you worried about that? From what little I know, their leader is very strong," Sienna said. 

Brown laughed, unexpectedly. He leaned in, eyes intense and passionate. "Their leader's philosophy, my belief in the Gods. We shall see who is strongest then," he said with a wink before turning away. 

​If anything, Sienna couldn't help but feel that Brown was a strange man. He was a human yet he fought for her kind with such a fierce burning passion that she thought only existed in her. Later when they had made camp, enjoying the fireside and feasting on roasted sausages, onions, cheese and bread, Sienna decided she wished to talk to Brown. She found him sitting by a rock, glancing up at the moon. Her approach wasn't as stealthy as she liked as Brown turned to see her come, plate in hand.

"Mind if I sight with you?" Sienna asked. Brown nodded and returned to looking back up to the moon. Silently, the tigress sat next to him, joining in his gaze. 

"What a beautiful land this is," Brown sighed. "The Gods truly are masters of their craft." 

​Sienna's expression was muted. Worship of the Brother-Gods wasn't as wide-spread as it used to be. Among her kind, the Brother-Gods particularly the God of Light wasn't loved. How could such a creator God subject her people to be different from humanity? How could such a creator God allow her kind to suffer? Her distaste for the Gods was apparently clear on her face as Brown turned, noting her apprehensive look. 

"You do not approve?" Brown asked.

Sienna shook her head. "No. I do not." 

​He nodded. "I understand. Even back in my days, worship of the Brother-Gods wasn't taken seriously either. Men focused too much on its vices, on profit or pleasure. Not worship." 

"They do not deserve it," Sienna spat. "How could the God of Light be worthy of worship, when he has made my people different? How could the God of Darkness be worthy of worship, when he ignores our cries for justice? The Brother-Gods weren't there when my people were slaves and they certainly aren't here when my people suffer in the mines."

Brown listened, and listened closely. Sienna had thought that he would lash out in righteous rage for her scepticism. Instead, he merely listened. He turned away, to the broken moon above. "Do you know why I fight so hard for the faunus, Miss Khan?" 

She shook her head. That was the reason why she was sitting next to him in the first place, to know. 

"When I was young, I had lead a team of oxen to another man in my village. It was for my father, you see. He wasn't a good man by any account but still, he yearned for righteousness. He taught me that those who kept slaves were amoral, creatures of vice and sin. The God of Light had made us all good, and equal. He did not make us to be superior to any other." Brown narrated. 

Sienna munched on a sausage, her attention focused on him.

"I thought that the man would be as my father said he was, evil and vicious. But to my surprise, he wasn't. He was kind and pleasant to me. He praised me for my initiative despite my youth. Oh, the praises he sang at that dinner, it did make me feel good." He had closed his eyes, remembering that pleasant memory. Then, he opened them as his voice took a sudden turn.

"He had a servant, a faunus like you. She served the dinner, you see. When the guests had all left and I was about to leave, the man took iron then beat her over the head with it." 

Sienna near spat out her food. She leaned in, anger and disgust coursing through her veins. "Why!?" 

"Apparently, she did not serve the food fast enough," Brown sighed. That reason only served to enflame Sienna some more. Beating someone simply because they were slow? That was-

"How old are you, Miss Khan?" Brown suddenly asked. The question surprised Sienna who leaned back, thinking.

"Nineteen, Mister Brown," Sienna replied.

"I thank the Gods that you were born too late to experience what I had seen," Brown said, eyes glinting. "Back then, there was a certain type of trade that existed. I refuse to say the name of that rotten profession but essentially, they catered to the demand for good slaves. Strong, beautiful, intelligent slaves. Such slaves weren't found but..."

"But?" Sienna pressed.

"They were bred," Brown spat. "The strongest and best slaves were gathered and made to breed like cattle. Then when the children came of age, they were sold off to the highest bidder." 

Sienna bit her lip to silence the cry of frustration and disgust that would have left her. Brown saw this and smiled. "Now do you see why I am so opposed to injustice? To those who would sully the God's creation with corruption?" 

She nodded. Anyone with a damn conscience would be disgusted by such things. Whatever reservations she had of Brown, they were all gone now. She had made the right choice to leave Kali and follow him. While Kali and Ghira were willing to talk for the faunus, John Brown was willing to die for them. 

"I still do not understand your...zealousness. But I understand your reasons for fighting," Sienna admitted. She looked up.

"It matters little to me if you believe or not, only as long as you fight," John Brown declared. "Now? Now is only the beginning, Miss Khan. Let us sound forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat. Together, let us purge this land of sinners before we send the guilty before the God's Judgement seat!" 

She stood up, heart pounding. Forget the Belladonnas.

Brown was going to lead the way. 

"I'm in," she said with finality.

+++

Their break had started awhile ago, night having come now to the mine but still, Markos Wright continued to work. 

He couldn't stop now, not when there were miners still down there.

Markos Wright knew that his life wasn't exactly exciting. Unlike the rest of his family, he had decided to become a miner. Not Dust mining, that was work for the faunus. No, he mined gold and other rare Remnant metals. All the while, that was it. Just the monotony of digging, drilling, and earning a fat paycheck. His life was one of schedules, of apathy. His concerns were that of himself, his family, and just living. 

Then the accident happened. 

He was in Vale, that was his home, when news broke of the explosion in Atlas. He was shocked of course. The news pundits had claimed the blast was the strongest recorded explosion in Remnant history. Initially, his thoughts of the matter were one of sympathy. While the SDC may have had faunus as a good chunk of their workforce, they were still miners and he understood the struggle of going into dark places with nothing more but their equipment, a light, and huge set of balls to go through the day. But that was it. It was a far off Atlesian problem that he had no right to enter in. Then, the questioning came with the SDC CEO, Jacques Schnee. 

And the more he watched, the more and more Markos felt nothing but sheer and absolute disgust. Was this the man that lead the SDC? A cold corporate lizard that treated his workers like dogshit? At least dog shit had the dignity of getting picked up and tossed into the trash can. 

​Hence, when that call came for volunteers to come and help out in a rescue mission, Markos found himself saying goodbye to his family, picked up his tools, and boarded a packed flight to Atlas. 

He didn't know what drove him to do so. 

Was it disgust for Jacques Schnee? Was he doing this to spite that cold son of a bitch? Was it a desire to finally do something worth a damn with his life? Was it for justice's sake? He never had much thoughts for the faunus, their problems weren't his. Sure, he felt bad that people treated them badly sometimes but what was he going to do about it?

But thinking about those faunus down there, fellow miners, struck in the dark and far away from their families...seeing that little faunus girl run up the aisle screaming for her parents...it made Markos think about his girl too and how she would do the same. 

​Thinking about his own darling daughter crying for him to be saved made him feel heavy in the heart. That only made him want to dig more and more. He was operating a drill far from the others, the drill he was using was borrowed from another man who had went off to sleep. Markos wanted to sleep too but shit, he just couldn't. 

​And thus, he continued to drill through Rock and Stone, trying to find people instead of gold.

He snickered. Rock and Stone.

That kinda rhymed. 

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Luis Amitola sighed as he closed the box that held their salvation with a click. He did not know how long it had been the mine had collapsed but by his reckoning, it would have been a few days. 

​A few days ago, they were working their usual when the ground groaned. It felt as if the mountain itself was coming to life. To Amitola however, it was clear what was happening and immediately ordered for himself and his fellow miners to rush back up lest they get buried. The entrances however were blocked with rocks. He tried again with the ventilation shafts but to his frustration, the ladders weren't there. 

It was ironic that they were faunus and had animal traits yet they couldn't have useful shit like wings that could let them fly out of there. 

He felt warm hands wrap around him. Familiar ones. 

"Are you okay?" Maria Amitola asked, her face dirty and coloured with soot. Near skin and bones like him but to Luis, she looked just as beautiful as the first day he met her. And hell, he could never get her curves out of his mind.

"Just worried about our food," Luis sighed. "We have enough left if we take a single nibble but no more." 

It was her that had kept him sane and hopeful. Some of the men had accepted their fate, fully aware of their employer's penchant for workplace abuse. But, Luis just refused to believe it. He just couldn't.

​Somehow, somewhere, someone will get them out. If not, then their own families, digging with their own hands if they have to. 

"Is that your only worry?" Maria asked, a little teasing. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I worry for Illia, love. I worry for her. If...if the worse comes to pass, who will take care of her?" 

Maria smiled as well. It was a sad smile. "If...that comes to pass, I wouldn't worry too much. She is strong, love. Like you. Like me. She can take care of herself. I know she can." 

She then sat next to him, leaning her shoulder against him. He glanced up to the rocks above. Despite their shit situation, Luis couldn't help but reminisce. "This takes me back. You remember the fair ten years ago?"

Maria laughed. "How could I not forget it? You were there, using your colors to astonish the crowd. I was star-struck." 

"Still star-struck now?" He asked teasingly. His wife snorted. 

"I am here in a hole in the ground with you, stupid. Of course I am." 

They had both decided to work for the SDC to support Illia. Unlike them, they both wanted her to go to a good school, to learn things they didn't. For her, they endured hardship and abuse, just for their daughter. 

A daughter that looked like they were never going to see again. A daughter he was never going to hold again. A daughter who he would never see graduate. His very own child whose choice of partner he would never get to scare but accept, if they weren't an ass. 

​"I love you, Maria," he whispered, probably for the last. He was getting weak now, letting the others take his share. 

"I love you, Luis," his wife whispered, suddenly feeling very light. 

Just as Luis felt sleep was about to claim him, water dripped upon his cheek. That made him shoot up. Was he crying? 

Maria stirred as well. "Love?" she whispered, looking at him. 

"I felt water on my face," he muttered as he glanced up. Then, he felt it. Vibrations. He was a miner. He knew what it was. Was it...?

He was quickly answered when suddenly, the roof of their cave opened up as a drill broke through, light pouring from the top and down below. The drill continued downwards until finally, it couldn't as it reached its limit. Stunned, the Amitola's watched as the drill powered down. 

Then, Luis felt himself shout and yell and scream in sheer absolute joy at the one thing which had gotten him here and now, it was going to be the salvation of him and his men. Such was his cry that it woke up his sleeping men who rushed towards it, banging it with their tools, hoping that their cries would reach up above.

And it would.

+++

Markos looked on with dismay as the drill finally stopped. It more than likely hit a rockbed too hard for it to break. Yet again, another setback. 

He glanced at his watch. It was already far too late and the next man was coming up for his shift. He sighed, ready to pack to pack up and leave when, he halted.

His drill was clanging.

Drills do not clang.

Confused, he leaned in to listen. For a moment, he thought that it was merely falling rock. But then, even through the thousands of miles of drill, he finally heard it. 

Voices!

People were alive down there!

Quickly, he pressed the button back up and soon, his drill returned. It was as expected, dirty and covered. What he did not expect was a piece of paper attached to it with tape. He leaned in and carefully took the paper out. 

​His eyes widened.

"All 33 of us are fine in the shelter - L. Amitola."

+++

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A/N: Eat up, fckrs.