Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 24 (Patreon)

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"Mayday! Mayday! This is CB1525! We are under attack! Requesting immediate assistance at Grid 241-" The pilot's words died down as a thick Nevermore feather slammed into the Bullhead's bow, spearing him through his chest. He died immediately, eyes still intense and focused as he slumped. The Bullhead swerved downwards, engines screeching as air sucked in through flaming parts. Florianne grit her teeth as she rushed forwards and slammed through the metal doors, aura and adrenaline turning her into human battering ram. Metal groaned as she leapt out, the cold air and wind biting her skin, as she descended down onto the ground. The Councillor landed on her feet, aura cushioning her decent. Ahead she could see her Bullhead crashing into the distance, a mushroom cloud of smoke and fire announcing where it struck.

But she could not dwell on it for long, as angry growls registered in her ears. She swivelled, Zweihander in hand, as Grimm charged from between the trees. An Ursa roared, barrelling towards her on hind paws. Her eyes narrowed as she charged on the Ursa, sliding on the snow as it swiped at her with its front paw. Now low, she hefted up her blade and speared the Ursa clean. It crashed into the snow, dead, but that was not the end. She pulled her blade back as it vanished but she was too slow, screaming in pain as a Beowulf lunged and bit at her shoulder. Her aura held but the pain was still apparent. She twisted, eyes blood-shot and mouth screaming bloody murder as her Zweihander cut the Beowof in two.

Breathing heavily, Florianne adjusted her stance into a Plow Guard, her feet apart and firm on the ground, her blade pointed directly forward. Her face was focused, determined. To panic now would attract even more Grimm, a prospect that she didn't really want to face not when she was alone. Huntress she may be, she cannot take on a whole forest of Grimm by her own.

She took a step back, her eyes darting between the different Grimm growling at her as they advanced. Mindless as they were, they still had some level of self-preservation. Or they were just looking at her and planning how best to strike her.

She grit her teeth.

A Buzzsaw would be convenient by now.

The Grimm all struck as one, roaring as they lunged and swiped. She roared, meeting them all in one go. Zweihanders were big swords, resigned to block multiple attacks at once. Strain coursed through her body, her aura rapidly depleting at the shared stress. The Beowolves snarled at her, jaws biting and clattering, but Florianne held them back. Her heels dug into the snow, the pressure on her mounting as the Grimm pressure mounted.

But it was all planned.

Her Zweihander glowed blue, ice dust getting fed into a locking mechanism. With a click, the ice dust erupted brilliantly, freezing the Grimm in place. Florianne stepped back and with a single swipe, cut the frozen Grimm at once. The ice cracked and detonated into glass, taking the Grimm with them. Breathing heavily, Florianne hefted her Zweihander against her shoulder and wiped away at her coat. She spat at the ground, one final insult to the Grimm, before turning towards the distance, where smoke column rose.

​She could hear it in the distance, gunfire and the trees crashing as Grimm trampled their way to the crash site. She needed to be faster and faster she would be, breaking into a sprint that made her like a speeding bullet. Grimm would chance upon her, a Huntsman's aura was much a beacon to the Grimm as it was something that gave men and women into super-humans. Their skulls would meet her blade, a practiced swordswoman's swing that crushed them underfoot or split them in twain. 

Florianne hurried now, the more she had to face off against stragglers, the less time there was for the survivors. 

Finally, she arrived into a scene of desperation. A double buzzsaws offering covering fire, multiple Defender rifles popping off against Grimm that rushed towards them in the shape of a arrow. Florianne let out a battle cry, joining into the fight as a warrior valkyrie, crushing and stabbing and turning Grimm into pieces of cleaved meat, if they had any. It took them time, but Florianne's arrival was the balm her people needed to be relieved. She made her way towards them, Zweihander resting against her shoulder, as the survivors cheered her arrival. 

"How many have survived?" Florianne asked, getting to the most important issue for her, her face scanning the surviving men and women. 

​Breathing heavily, the first Buzzsaw man crept up. It was Thomas, with a torn uniform and a bandaged shoulder wound. "There's five of us left, Florianne. The others are dead, injured, or missing." 

In the corner, five bodies were stacked neatly together, only two were moving, covered by cloth and heavily bandaged. Florianne grit her teeth, leaping over their improvised defenses of scrap and branches, and got on knee to rest. She had spent aura trying to get here as fast as she could not to mention Grimm being able to hit her. By her own estimate, one more hit and her aura would be broken. If they had to go and deal with another horde, she would have to be careful. "How's the radio? Have we been able to get an SOS out?" 

Thomas nodded, loading a fresh belt drum into his machine gun. "Aye," he grunted as he cocked the Buzzsaw. "The Bullhead automatically blasted out an SOS signal as soon as we got attacked. We should be expecting a pickup soon." 

"We're not bugging it out? Ain't there a village close by? Würzburg I think?" A Defender rifleman asked, lying down on the ground and hugging his rifle close. Thomas and Florianne's face turned to him, frowning.

"We are not leaving our wounded behind," Thomas muttered darkly, a snarl forming on his face. The rifleman whitened, trying his best to look small as Thomas made to stand and hit the fool for daring to suggest that but Florianne placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him. Thomas calmed, reluctantly as Florianne turned to the rifleman. 

"And if we move our wounded, we'd be even more vulnerable. Better to stay here in a defensible position and wait for the Atlesian Army to pick us up," Florianne said. And with that, the suggestion of bugging out was stifled as the Frontiersmen prepared to make their stand. Thomas sighed, glancing at his Buzzsaw. "I only have four belt drums left. This thing eats ammo faster than a starved dog. Anymore, I might have to shoot bursts."

Left unsaid was the prospect of actually losing ammo. Even with dust rounds, one could only really keep on firing without worry if they could supply themselves. Out here, in a iteral crash site, they would have to be frugal. 

"Let us hope it won't come to that," Florianne muttered, her eyes scanning around. But despite her words, destiny would challenge that. The trees again shook violently, the hulking of beasts heard over the distance. Again, the frontiersmen prepared themselves. Florianne's readied to charge, her breaths deep and focused. "Conserve your ammo," she ordered. "Defender squad, cover me. Buzzsaws, only fire if you see that I am about to be over-run." 

There was no argument made by her fellows, only determined nods. And with that, the trees broke as even more Grimm rushed out, snarling Beowlves ready to take them all down. Florianne got up from her position, leaping over their defenses and roared in defiance as she met the charging Grimm. Behind her, loud pops from Defender rifles echoed, taking down those that neared her. She moved to attack, a whirlwind of steel with Grimm after Grimm being cut down by her weapon. Florianne gave it her all, fighting quite literally for their lives. Her men counted on her, the future of Atlas was in the balance. 

She was not going to die here. She knew her position well. Yeaman may have found his courage but if only came from knowing that she championed the SDC break up motion. If she died....it was quite possible that he would backtrack, intimidated by the SDC's still considerable size and power. Willow Schnee, Florianne did not know her or met her but she figured that not even Willow would allow such a drastic break-up of the SDC. 

The minutes felt like hours, her body being taxed to the limit as wave after wave of endless Grimm poured. Two beowolves moved to attack her with a shared leap, her zweihander reared up to defend. Then, she felt teeth enter her back. 

"AHHHHHH!'' Florianne Geyer screamed, her aura broken as another Beowulf had bitten her from the back. The teeth would have sunken deeper if not for a burst of fire from Thomas's buzzsaw. Acting on pure adrenaline and rage at the idea that a Grimm had bitten her, she reared back and swiped at the Grimm in two. Her aura was drained, she fell on one knee with the zweihander her only support. 

"FLORIANNE!" Thomas screamed from behind. The Bundschuh Councillor looked forward, the earth shaking under her feet as more Grimm poured. From their positions, the Frontiersmen all leapt forward, charging to save their leader. With a strained cry, Florianne pushed herself to stand, falling into a Plow Guard against the charging Grimm. If they thought they would get Florianne Geyer like helpless prey, they were dead wrong. She may not have a Huntsman's strength anymore but she was still a gods-damn warrior. 

She was going to die a proper warriors death, fighting. 

​Time seemed to slow for Florianne, the Grimm all amassing with bared teeth and scimitar like claws. Her body was wet with sweat and now warm with her own blood pouring from her wounds. 

Then a miracle, as the screaming of bullhead engines tore through the Grimm screams. It began with a whir then constant screaming brrr as the Bullhead's minigun laid waste to the forest. Another bullhead joined in, dousing fire into the forest where the Grimm came from. The screams of dying Grimm was music to her ears. 

Help. 

Helped arrived at last. Cheering, the Frontiersmen joined Florianne's side, dumping everything they had into the forest as the Grimm died and died. There was a howl, a piercing one, that signalled the Grimm to retreat. And so they did, snarling but obeying the command of their Alpha. Slowly, the Grimm peeled away. Still, the first Bullhead stopped firing, maintaining a defending stance over the area as the second one landed. Florianne allowed herself to relax as she dropped her weapon on the snow, finally feeling the strain of everything. Thomas moved quickly, going to her side. 

"We need to get you checked quickly," Thomas muttered as he glanced over her wounds. "I'm sure the Army has brought medics over."

"Someone take my damn sword," Florianne muttered, allowing herself to finally get limp and letting Thomas be her support. A rifleman nodded, stowing away his gun and reaching for Florianne's weapon. Slowly, Thomas moved forward towards the descending Bullhead. As they did so, Florianne noted a detail on the craft, a particular symbol etched on the top right of the Bullhead's rear doors, that of a Fleur-de-Lys in front of Twin Axes.

Valeans?

What were Valeans doing here in Solitas?

One of her riflemen strode forward, running towards the bullhead and waving his arms as a figure appeared on the doorway, a eye-patched woman clad in red, rifle in hand.

 "Hey! Come on! We got wounded he-" the rifleman tried, only to be silenced as the woman raised her rifle and shot him. 

His words died in his throat as a gunshot echoed. The Atlesians stood still, shock coursing through them. But Florianne acted. She rushed to charge, pushing Thomas away as the woman turned her rifle to them. 

Another boom echoed. 

Florianne felt nothing but searing pain as her stomach exploded. She fell on her side, her eyes set forward as even more gunshots echoed. 

She landed on the snow, shaking with pained breaths, as blood poured both from her wound and outside of her mouth and nose. Her heart pounded in her chest, shock and betrayal coursing through her veins. Questions poured through, questions as much as rage, in her brain. Her ears registered boot-steps. With glazed eyes, the riflewoman stood over her, a single finger to her ear. 

"What next?" she spoke, her accent mature and brimming with promise. She was glancing up at the sky, towards the first Bullhead still floating. Florianne's raised her arm, to grasp at the woman's leg. Feeling the tug, the rifle-woman glanced down at her, face crunched in disgust. Florianne's began to choke as the woman swatted her arm aside and dug a heel onto her throat. As the air slowly vanished from her lungs, she pounded against the leg on her throat, to no avail. 

​Even despite this, her ears still registered another voice from the woman's ear. "There is no next, musketeer. Our allies can only control the Grimm for so long. Leave them." The voice was strong, rich, and deep. 

"As you command, Cardinal," the woman acquiesced demurely. She took off her earpiece to glance down at Florianne. 

"Good luck, Atlesian," the musketeer sneered before laying off her feet and walking away. Florianne's breaths slowed down, her eyes still glue to the Bullhead above. The rear door was open and there stood a man, in red armor, looking down at her. His cape billowed in the wind before he turned away, the bullhead's rear door closing. The other bullhead powered off, rising into the air. 

Just in time for the Beowolves to howl again.

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The Bullhead's rear doors closed with a shutter. Armand Rouge took a breath before he turned to face the other passenger inside his bullhead, a strong, tall, and well-built man that nearly took up all the space in his aircraft.

"It is done," he said curtly, crossing his arms as he gazed up towards the giant. Armand was tall, healthy, and fit for his age. He was rather old, his skin had started to show its wear and tear but his eyes and brain remained fiery and strong just as when he was a young man. From his feet to his chest, plate clung to him naturally, even more so than the priestly robes he should have been wearing. His voice was powerful, stately, and promised a hidden dagger behind a smile.

The giant, Hazel Rainart, nodded. Armand would note with interest the look of regret on his face. "Salem will be pleased. Her support for your movement will be doubled now."

Armand kept his face impassive as the giant took out a scroll, typing down onto it. It had been some months since he was contacted by Hazel who had offered funds for his little movement. A movement to restore Vale to what it was supposed to be, a strong and centralized monarchy where the sun and the moon itself would bow down to. Armand had been there since the very beginning, serving as the First Councillor of Vale when the Great War began. He had devoted his energies, his will, his wealth even to ensure that Vale would be victorious against the admittedly superior Mantlese and Mistralian forces. It had taken years and countless sacrifices for victory.

He had expected that the King would lead Remnant into a Valean Century.

He didn't. Instead, he allowed Vale to grow weaker and for Mantle, the one responsible for starting the damn war in the first place, to get off without punishment and for it to rise in a new skin through the Kingdom of Atlas.

Countless sacrifices...to be thrown away.

He took a step forward, sitting across Hazel still buried in his scroll. Whatever he was typing down, it was finished as he set it aside into his pocket. Armand took this moment to speak.

"I still think that letting that Atlesian have her way with the SDC was a better way to destabilize Atlas, giant," Armand grunted, a single finger tapping his knee.

The SDC was the greatest weapon Atlas was using to indirectly control Vale thanks to the company supplying the Kingdom with Dust. If that turncoat noblewoman had her way, pushed her motion into the Atlesian Council, the SDC would have been broken up one by one and plunged the Atlesian economy that would allow for Valean Dust Companies to fill in the gap.

Hazel shook his head. "No. Salem wishes to shake the world order. With Councillor Geyer dead, the motion to break up the SDC would be inconsequential with its chief author gone."

Armand raised an eyebrow. "How exactly would it be gone? There remains General Ironwood and the other Councillor, Yeaman."

The giant glanced up. "As my master put it, Councillor Yeaman does not possess a strong personality and unlike Councillor Geyer who was charismatic and focused, he was placed on his seat thanks to the lobbying of Jacques Schnee. But because he had voted to imprison Jacques Schnee instead of acquitting him, he had bitten the hand that has fed him."

Armand had kept up to date with the politics of Atlas, it was important to be aware of one's enemies after all. Florianne Geyer represented the party of the frontier peasants who managed to seat her there in the previous election. Her seat was going to be empty now with her death and the peasants would most likely scramble trying to find a replacement for her to finish her remaining term. But even if they could send someone to fill in her seat, they would not have the momentum to bring the motion to finish.

"One out of five," Armand muttered, a single finger rubbing his chin. The other four had Yeaman, charmless and friendless Yeaman. Councillor Ferdinand who would vote against the motion to break the SDC, General Conrad who despite his absence still held the position and could still vote. Then, General Ironwood, the wildcard. He was going to become the head of the Atlesian military, he simply was too popular after being one of the famous faces that spear-headed the rescue of those animals in the dust mine. However, he still did not have Conrad's seat just yet. He had to be elected into the position first, it was still a public office after all.

The vote to shatter the SDC would fail and it would most likely be set aside as Atlas would once again have to prepare for elections. Jacques Schnee was under administrative detention with security concerns cited that placed him there but he would inevitably be released, Armand was sure that the upstart Color Revolutionary worm would have the means to get him out. It would inflame the faunus and finally kick them to radicalize.

He had heard whispers of the White Fang possibly fragmenting. His spies in the movement had all but told him that many White Fang members were rallying to another animal. The Belladonnas were resting on their laurels with the mine rescue, heralding it as justice done. But there were those who had admittedly proper reasons to be angry at the SDC. If Jacques Schnee was going to be released from administrative detention, the faunus would demand the Belladonnas to do something about it and the pacifistic fools would turn to their tools of protest.

No, there would be upheaval. The emotional animals would be too angry.

And from this chaos, this would give him the opportunity to once again build in Vale.

"My master tells me that you may expect payment as soon as we return to Vale. Use it as you see fit," the giant rumbled.

Armand nodded. "I shall."

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A/N: Perfidious bastards.