Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 25 (Patreon)

+++

Mechs. Mechs. Mechs.

I have to admit that I didn't really like mechs. Sure, they were cool and all but I liked tanks more. However, Remnant was not a place for tanks and Ironwood did not ask for them. Like the bullhead with its VTOL capability, the mech made sense to use in Remnant. Outside of the big city, there were no roads that could allow for swift deployment. Sure, tanks could cross country just fine on flat lands and mow down a tree or two but the scale of Remnants wilderness was astounding. Hell, the settlements that existed outside of the cities barely managed to scrap at what the rest of the planet had to offer. So, mechs it was.

I had already gotten to work with the initial basics which I had presented to Ironwood. In the foundry, the RPG and Carl Gustav was being noted down by the Engineering department as well as the forged copies of their ammunition. The artillery pieces as well, down to the accompanying shells. The actual weapons themselves weren't anything particularly of note to the engineers, they themselves were capable of designing and producing their own. What interested them the most however were the shells and what was inside of it.

You need to understand that at its heart, the technology of Remnant is derived from dust. I didn't care for people's claims that it was not magic, it is magic. Because of that magic, important fields had been severely neglected thanks to the fact that a need for them wasn't found. I did not just forge the exact prototype but the very top-tier quality versions of it too. I had personally sped up trying to make the proposed arms Ironwood had asked for, I was rather anxious to fill in the demands he had made and the sooner I could get things out, the less work I had to do.

Hence and with one final hammer blow, I forged my proposed design of the HMP into existence. I took a breath, stumbling back as I felt the strain of aura depletion hit me. My back hit against a brick wall, the brick wall being Land.

"This thing looks like a fat whale," Land commented as he let me sit on a chair first before turning to the monstrosity I had bullshitted into existence. The Crocodile was fuck-off massive compared to both Land and I. But, it was a good massive and my mind was already filling in images of the thing shooting its autocannons and laying hell to a position with a rocket barrage.

"The bullhead is a fat whale," I heaved, sweat running down my brow. "This is a curvy lady,"

There was a cry of concern as the rushing of feet registered into my ears. I glanced around to see Emerald rushing towards me, towel in hand. She halted before me, holding it up. I gave her a smile as I accepted it and rubbed it against my face. To others, I looked like a goddamn Worker from GLA, hammering at something then suddenly, something is willed into existence. Instead of a building though, it was tools for deleting people from existence. To me however, I felt like I was an actual blacksmith working at a forge. My body felt hot from the aura depletion and my face was burning.

We were deep inside the Foundry, the Crocodile was half completed the day before and I was here to finish it now. Land was with me, as he always was and Emerald came because well, she wanted to see what the Foundry was like. I took in another breath. My aura reserves were increasing as time went by, I suppose I could refer to it as leveling up in gaming terms. I still stopped before it got too low though. When aura breaks, the physical and mental toll of it hits you. So if you were doing crazy somersaults before hand and your aura breaks, your body will be feeling it hard. The average Remnanite may have had evolution help out with making the human body here stronger to deal with the stress but we are still made of fleshy meat that will get tired.

"What's next after this?" Land asked, turning towards me.

"More support weapons," I revealed. "Fancy mechs, light enough that it could be carried by the Fleet but capable enough to dish out heavy support."

"I assume you will pull something out of your ass?" Land asked gruffly. Emerald gasped, hearing the older man cuss. Immediately, his eyes widened as he realized his faux pas. I tutted at him disapprovingly.

"Land. You cannot swear in front of the child!" I said in mock outrage.

"I heard worse," Emerald revealed. "One man said something about the fu-"

"You aren't allowed to swear, little missy, or I swear I'll clean your tongue with soap," said Land, looking down at her with crossed arms. Emerald pouted.

"But you can," she pointed out.

"Land can because he's a grouchy old man," I chuckled, patting Emerald's head to her protests. "You are a cute adorable little princess."

"I'm not adorable!" Emerald protested loudly, waving her arms around and vainly punching my arms.

"Of course you are," I retorted. I shook my head. "Emerald, I'm a bit hungry. Could you go with Land and get me some food from the cafeteria?"

"No. I'm angry," Emerald refused, looking away with crossed arms, like Land.

"You can get whatever you'd like as well, my treat," I winked. At that, Emerald muttered an affirmative and walked off. I turned to Land who shrugged his shoulders to join her. But before he left, he halted.

"You should let her attend school, be one with kids her age. Let her have a childhood before you turn her into a weapon," he not so subtly suggested before walking off. I watched him walk up to her and hold her hand, as a uncle with with a chaotic niece. My lips went thin.

Before I woke up as Alexander, I had participated in charity missions both for my school which was a heavy Catholic one as well as for university for outreach activities. I had seen children much like her living in conditions that even rats would balk at. Now here I was in a far different position, and about to use her gratitude for my own ends. But would it really be manipulation when Emerald herself would willingly pay back my charity? She served Cinder willingly in canon and the bitch just gave her scraps of affection. I'm sure that Emerald would offer me ironclad loyalty should I ask it.

It was then, my scroll began to ring.

I fished it out of my pocket and checked to see who was calling me. I raised an eyebrow as I accepted the call.

"Winter?"

+++

The scene was of brutal murder. Of blood and guts torn to shreds, a defiant last stand and failure. The grunts all around milled about the fallen in quiet acceptance as they cleaned up the remains as best as they could.

Winter's unit was the first to arrive at Councillor Geyers crash site. They would have arrived faster but Grimm activity kept on hindering their efforts to rescue the Councillor and her security detail. By the time they had arrived, it was already too late. Signs of struggle was clear, spent shells laid half buried under snow and the bodies were all mangled into bits which left identification difficult. They returned back to base, to prepare the remains and return them to the fallen's family and for her and her unit to be debriefed. They were half-way back to their base when they were redirected suddenly to the main Atlesian military headquarters.

Winter sat on a bench, her face quiet and contemplative as she reflected on the events that had happened. Around her, her troupe quietly milled about in the locker room as they disarmed and unequipped themselves. The question on Winter's mind as well as the others there was that of politics. Geyer had been leading the anti-SDC Councillor since her father had been placed under administrative detention. By now, that movement was left up to General Ironwood and Councillor Yeaman. As far as Winter knew, Yeaman was for splitting up the SDC while General Ironwood would want Atlas to nationalize it. And through this all, her mother was stuck trying to keep everything afloat. In that brief moment, Winter felt like she had made a mistake. In her guilt regarding her father's sins, she had dropped being the heiress for the SDC and jumped immediately into the military where she could forget ever being an heiress.

She should have stayed behind and held the reins briefly, keeping the house in order then left.

Oh gods…

"Attention!" Someone yelled out and by reflex, Winter stood tall and ramrod straight, her hands folded behind her back. There on the door to their locker room stood General Ironwood who eyed each one of them.

"At ease," he ordered and the room relaxed. He walked in and sighed.

"I have been informed about the casualties in the crash and who died in them. Councillor Geyer's remains will be returned to her family as well as the remains of each man recovered," he said before continuing. "You were the very first soldiers to get to the crash site me recovered the bodies. The families of the fallen will be grateful to each one of you."

"But we failed to rescue them, sir," Winter trembled, shaking slightly with emotion. "Why would those families be thankful of us?"

"Because you made sure that they at least have something to bury than nothing at all," Ironwood replied immediately, his normally strong voice assuring and gentle. So was his expression. "That is not a luxury those in our line of work can have at all times. You may not have gotten them alive but you can go forward confident that you did your hardest and in a way, made sure that the fallen went home."

At that, Winter felt herself relax a bit. What the General was saying was true and logical. They did try their best to get to the rescue as fast as they could and were only hampered by the Grimm. That was something that could not be helped.

"Go and take the night out," General Ironwood said. "A new unit will be taking over the clean-up. Dismissed."

At that, the men and women there smiled as they turned to each other. Winter smiled too, wondering how best to spend her apparent day off. She figured she could go and call Alexander, ask about his day. That was when General Ironwood turned to her. "Miss Schnee, with me, please."

Winter felt confused, wondering what the General would need her for. Nevertheless, she nodded and followed after him. The two went out of the locker room and into the hallway where a troop of other soldiers stood. Their walk was quiet, save for the echo of their footsteps against the hallway. Finally, they arrived before a door where another officer stood, a Specialist judging by his non-regulation uniform. Winter recognized him immediately, Clover Ebi. He was at the mine rescue. He opened the door and Ironwood walked inside, Winter following him.

They were in an office space, decorated with Atlesian flags and medals. There was a massive painting on the wall depicting Atlas's first ascent into the sky as citizens cheered. Ironwood walked forward to sit behind the desk. She stood at attention, ready to…do whatever the hell Ironwood wanted from her. Ironwood waited until Clover took his place right behind him.

"What is a Specialist, Miss Schnee?" General Ironwood suddenly asked. Winter was briefly taken aback by the question but answered quickly.

"A Specialist is the term used for Huntsmen in the service of the Kingdom, sir," Winter replied. "The term comes from the fact Specialists have specific skills that normal soldiers do not have."

Winter felt confident with her answer, years of Academy training would not be wasted.

"That's correct," General Ironwood nodded, hands folded on his table. Winter preened at the praise.

"Specialists also do more, Miss Schnee," Clover spoke up. "We also serve not just combat roles but administrative and liaison duties as well, offering expertise to advise either higher officers in the military or civilian officials."

Winter felt slightly embarrassed. She focused too much on combat.

"What is your rank in this army, Miss Schnee?" Ironwood suddenly asked.

"Lieutenant Second Class, sir," Winter answered, still confused who what was going on. "I am serving under Captain Swift."

Again, she was offered a officer's commission for both her already advanced grades at Atlas Academy as well as her own personal actions during the 33 mine rescue. This was also the start of her practical education in the field. No more theory, no more classrooms.

"You are aware that I have de-facto taken over the duties of General Conrad as Head of the Armed Forces?" General Ironwood asked. Winter nodded.

"I may have taken over his duties and responsibilities but he still yet remains in the Council until his term is over or until he voluntarily decides to step down. He hasn't done that now," General Ironwood revealed, frustration momentarily revealed in his voice before he calmed himself down. "Politics aside, I am overseeing the expansion of our armed forces both the navy and the army and thus, I will be busy with that as well as the political responsibilities now added with Councillor Geyers's passing. I will need a Specialist to act as a liaison between myself and our industry partners. As you were previously the Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, I would like to offer you a promote you as a Specialist to act in that role."

Winter's eyes widened.

A Specialist held a rank of Major and commanded a unit of mixed unit of men and Atlesian Knights. Not to mention the added responsibilities…

The shock was far too visible on her face. Clover added in his two cents.

"Like with your commission, this can be justified by the obvious leadership qualities already present in you."

"Furthermore, the advantage I have already stated you have. In the Atlesian army, you are more than qualified to be a industry liaison. You are popular thanks to the rescue, you are also acquainted with different business leaders, and you share a friendship with Alexander Wayland."

Winter brightened up at the mention of her friend. Her mind also grasped the importance of his name as it implied that Atlas would be dealing with Royal and Imperial to be its weapons provider, much like the old days.

"I shall be attached to Royal and Imperial?" Winter asked, needing details. 

"You will mostly be seeing Royal and Imperial but with other industries as well. Your duties towards them is to guide them if they have questions related to military matters and for me to inform them of the specifics of what we need," Ironwood said. He leaned back. "So, are you interested, Miss Schnee?"

"I would be honoured, sir," Winter responded quickly, excited, and resisting the urge to smile. Ironwood nodded.

"I have a number directly to Alexander Wayland. May I be permitted to inform him about it?" WInter asked, purely out of professional courtesy of course. Clover however stifled a laugh, earning a small flush from Winter. Ironwood couldn't help but crack a smile and nodded once again.

+++

"...And that is today's events," Winter finished narrating everything on her end. 

​A torrent of emotion coursed through me. On one hand, it was good that I finally had someone to connect me to Ironwood directly and know the things that he had wanted. But on the other hand, an Atlesian councillor was dead.

"I would be pleased to work with you, Winter, but an Atlesian Councillor is dead. Said Councillor was spearheading the movement to break apart the SDC," I muttered. I hated to be a buzzkill. I sensed how pleased Winter was with the arrangement but an Atlesian Councillor was dead. Atlas was an oligarchy ruled by a Council of Five. According to Atlesian Law, if a Councillor died in office, was incapacitated, or was kicked out of his seat even then a vote had to be called for that, the seat would remain vacant. The party of said councillor would then send someone to finish the term of aforementioned councillor, something to be done every five years. 

With such an oligarchic system, it was little wonder that Jacques managed to insert himself so deeply into Atlesian society. It didn't matter if Ironwood or the deceased Geyer openly opposed him, there was still the other three. 

​I had to wonder why the Color Revolution did not expand the system of government for Atlas. Such a system of government was unsophisticated and barebones. It didn't have the systems of a republic no-

I paused my thoughts. Of course. Before all this, Atlas inherited Mantle's system of government which was an absolute monarchy with a Council of Five to act both as advisors. Mantle was a on the nose a carbon copy of the Austrian monarchy and like the Austrian monarchy, it never had any constitution until after the revolutions in Europe in 1848. But the difference here was that the fucking Colour Revolutionaries only increased the power of the Council of Five, temporarily keeping it clean with their councillors until old money crept up and slowly corrupted it. 

Why the hell the average Atlesian didn't demand for the system to change was something I could not understand. 

But was I going to do something about it?

Really, Royal and Imperial was going to be high off the military-industrial complex with Atlas's military undergoing a shift. Why would I go and dip my toes in politics? That was my bottom-line, not crowning myself a Kaiser. 

Winter's voice broke me from my thoughts. "The Bund will be busy scrambling to find a successor for Councillor Geyer. As for General Ironwood, I...I am unsure what he plans to do exactly but he did tell me he was going to busy himself with both organizing the military and dipping his hands in politics."

"Good luck to him," I said, shrugging my shoulders. I then grinned. "So, I detect a hint of excitement from you, Specialist Schnee. Excited to meet me again?"

​"W-what? No! You-you!" Winter sputtered, her pale face not failing to hide the redness of her cheeks. 

"What about me?" I asked innocently. There was a click and I glanced down at my scroll, laughing.

+++

As the newly promoted Specialist walked off, Ironwood went ahead to sit back down on his seat. Then, his mind began to ponder the future of Atlas. He was not genius politician but even he understood that with Geyer's death, their ad hoc political collaboration was as dead as her. She was the bridge to Councillor Yeaman who no doubt would be alone in this trying time. He still was of the mind to seize the SDC and let Atlas itself handle it directly. Ironwood had to admit that his quiet disapproval of Jacques Schnee and his fellow corporates had turned into a sort of disgust. For years, the bastards had profited massively from the suffering of faunus, Atlesian citizens, and had dug their claws into the economy. They had bullied, cajoled, and threatened the military for far too long. 

If Atlas itself controlled dust production, every citizen wouldn't have to fear a corporate fool using such techniques Jacques Schnee did such as his stunt with the false rail issue. 

"Well," Clover began, watching as Winter gave one final salute before closing the door behind her. "You have your liaison, sir."

"I do," Ironwood nodded. "Winter will be important for fostering relations with not just Royal and Imperial but with other industry magnates." 

"Why not do it yourself, sir? You are a popular man," Clover pointed out. Ironwood afforded Clover a smile that only ended up looking rough. 

"I am a soldier, Clover. I am not...personable. My popular comes from my leadership in the mines, yes, but popularity eventually weans off over time. I will need the help of not just you but others to do my duty well," Ironwood said, perfectly aware of what sort of man he was. He was rough, blunt, and was as charming as a rock. He could connect with his soldiers well but with civilians, he would need to soften that deficiency with the help of people such as Winter. 

"Makes sense," Clover nodded, his lips quivering. "By the way, the troops have been giving you a nickname, sir."

​Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" 

"Ironman," Clover revealed, arms spread. Ironwood listened intently and upon hearing his nickname, he laughed. A harsh barking laughter of a man not used to laughing. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. 

"I appreciate the nickname but I was simply doing my duty, Clover. I did not look for glory," Ironwood chuckled. He was honest with that. Atlesian citizens needed help, he had the power to help them. 

"And speaking of duty, sir," Clover said, getting back to business. "What shall we do regarding the motion to shatter the SDC?" 

"Councillor Geyer had wanted to nationalize the SDC but Councillor Yeaman wished to see it broken into trusts instead," General Ironwood said, standing up. "Until the Bundschuh send their replacement, I will try to convince Councillor Yeaman about the merits of nationalization. Do invite the good Councillor for him and I to discuss it. Give us the room when he arrives, Specialist." 

Clover nodded. "And what about General Conrad? His seat is yours, General."

Ironwood's lips went thin. By popular acclaim, he had not-so-subtly convinced the corrupt fossil to momentarily step back from his position as the Head of the Armed Forces, he had the tapes to convince him to do so, what with the General ordering him to leave the rescue team behind to be swallowed by the snow. But he still refused to vacate his seat, citing that he was elected into the position, insinuating that Ironwood would be attempting a coup if he forced him to step down. As much as Ironwood would want to rid Atlas of corruption, he wasn't going to go so far as to violate the sanctity of Atlas's laws and democracy.

"That...that is something I will have to think about, Specialist. Until then, send the invitation to Councillor Yeaman. We have business to do."

Much later, Yeaman had arrived, confused about the sudden invitation. As he had asked, Clover had left the two of them alone to discuss matters of state.

"General Ironwood," Yeaman blinked, taking a seat in front of him. "May I ask the, uh, sudden invitation?"

"May I be frank, Councillor?" Ironwood asked to Yeaman's puzzled nodding, much to Ironwood's interior relief. Yeaman was a good one in his eyes, getting to the point.

"Councillor Geyer is dead, her bullhead was attacked by Grimm this morning," He revealed, tone blunt.

Councillor Yeaman froze in shock, his eyes glazed out of its sockets and mouth left agape. "Councillor Geyer? Dead?" he whispered, voice in shock.

General Ironwood nodded. "Yes, Councillor. While returning from the Frontier, her bullhead was accosted by Grimm particularly Nevermores. Units that had responded to her distress signal found damage to her bullhead that Nevermores send." 

Yeaman fell back on his seat, his face suddenly consumed by sweat. "Good gods," he whispered, wiping away at his forehead. "Our majority in the council is at risk now, sir!"

​He shook his head. "Not if we work together, Councillor Yeaman. I am confident that Councillor Geyer would have appointed a successor to her seat. All the Bund have to do is send that new Councillor in."

"But we do not have an assurance that successor has the same views as their predecessor, General," Yeaman replied, sitting limply on his chair. "Assuming that they do share the same views, they might have their own ideas too."

That was true. The successor didn't always share the same views as the one they succeeded. He certainly had ideas contrary to General Conrad. "Hence, you and I must bring them into our plans. Nationalizing the SDC would be the first step to making a stronger Atlas. Would you agree?"

Yeaman however did not agree. The Councillor had traded his worried look to one of shock and outrage. "Absolutely not," Yeaman protested. The supposedly spineless man, as Geyer had called him, leaned in towards Ironwood. 

"General, nationalization of the Schnee Dust Company would only go and bring undue stress on the government! The Council cannot afford nor can it run a company with the size of the SDC! We will have to expand the government, hire more civil servants to help manage it!" Yeaman ranted, pausing briefly to take a breath. 

​Ironwood's lips went thin.

This was going to be a long discussion.

+++

Cinder went on one knee on a flat roof, her eyes forward towards a wide compound with huge sandstone walls. Her movement was freer now that she had gotten rid of the ridiculous dress that was forced on her. Amber eyes narrowed, counting the guards and towers and other obstacles that might hinder her path. It had been two days since she and Strangelove had arrived at Vacuo. He had checked them into a rather comfortable hotel. He however sat in luxury while sending her on 'errands' that left her slightly tanned from all the working she had to do. 

Thankfully, her mission at this time was at night. Remnant's broken moon hung in the night sky, providing dim light to a city of sandstone and tradition. 

Jax Asturias and his sibling had attempted to lead a criminal organization who claimed they were trying to restore the Vacuoan monarchy. It was a noble thing which was why Cinder couldn't help but scoff at. He was a fool, trying to restore a broken nation. Strangelove kept on harping on and on about Vacuo's symbolism, Cinder only saw nothing but sand huts and a sensitive people suspicious of outsiders. She didn't ignore his lessons entirely however and she knew where their source of suspicion came from.

In the final battle that decided the fate of the Great War, Vale's King detonated Vacuo's dust fields that destroyed the combined Mantlese-Mistralian army. While it had secured victory for both Vacuo and Vale, it robbed Vacuo of its future. 

And here it was, a shadow of its former self. 

She took a moment to look away from the prison that housed their target and onto the streets below. It was busy admittedly, the bazaars still operated at night. But what was there to see other than Vacuoans exchanging lien to smoke narcotics at a hookah house? The law was no help either, tolerating the rampant substance abuse shown and even participating in the trade themselves. This hopeless and pitiful display was apparent not just in Vacuo but in Mistral as well, the ruling Council content to grow fat on their corruption while the lower classes lived either had to enter gladiatorial contests, crime, or prostitution just to support themselves. 

"Ah, an ocean of misery," a voice suddenly spoke up next to her. Cinder's eyes widened as she turned around to see Strangelove sitting next to her, sitting on a bench and sipping a mug of what smelt like coffee. 

"How did you sneak up on me?" Cinder all but demanded but Strangelove ignored her as he glanced towards the prison.

"Do you know how Vacuo is run, my rebellious student?" Strangelove asked. 

Knowing that Strangelove would not answer her unless she humored him, she gave her reply, remembering the lessons that he had been teaching her on the road. "Vacuo had the most sophisticated system of government cantered on the King and his chief official, a vizier. The vizier was the head of a Council of Six members who shared power. It was a innovation left by Malik the Sunderer who overturned the old order a thousand years ago," Cinder dutifully recited. 

"Elementary but satisfactory," Strangelove responded, earning a hiss from Cinder. He shrugged his shoulders at her obvious displeasure however. "You are correct. The Kingdom that we faced during the Great War was weak militarily. However, the strong leadership of the King, the Vizier, and the Councils kept Vacuo afloat despite Mantle over-running Vacuo." 

Vacuo had suffered setbacks until Vale finally reinforced it. By all accounts, Vacuo should have fallen but no, strong leadership kept it going. Cinder had to admit some admiration for that despite her dismissal of the fallen kingdom. However, she was getting bored of all this history. 

"Get to the point, Strangelove," Cinder said, not hiding the boredom on her face. 

"The point then, you fool, is that Vacuo is ripe with nostalgia of a time when their nation was one and wealthy," Strangelove sighed as he set aside his coffee. "We will start by springing free Jax Asturias and his sibling and using them to restart their Crown movement. Unlike last time however, they will do it properly." 

Jax Asturias had a powerful organization in his finger-tips of devoted followers until Huntsmen busted his movement and his supporters were in fact controlled by his semblance. "A pity. Mind-controlled drones would have been useful," Cinder sneered. 

The electric shock that coursed through her body was quick but it felt like a whole hour. Cinder fell on her knees, shivering first in shock then bursting with anger as she glared at Strangelove. "What did I do now?" 

​To her fury, Strangelove glanced at her similarly to how one would look at a mildly interesting piece of gum. "You are a fool," Strangelove said to himself as if he had found a revolutionary epiphany. 

"Drones would be useful! Loyal!" she said, standing up. "No opposition, true stability!" 

"You would make a colony of insects, not a nation," Strangelove snapped. "Drones cannot run a civil administration, drones cannot trade, make families, or expand your borders. Might as well have a nation of Grimm, why don't you?"

​Cinder sneered. "Why not? I would be powerful, strong, a Queen of a army mightier than any on Remnant. I would have power​." 

She would be loved, adored by a loyal army that would not hesitate or falter. She would never, ever be hurt again. 

"You are sad, Miss Fall." Strangelove said flatly. "Your need for the crowds adoration will be the death of you." 

"You do not know where I came from, Strangelove!" Cinder burst. She had it with his snide comments, and revolting presence. "You will respect me or you will fear me, I swear it!"

"You have nothing for me to respect nor power to make me fear you," Strangelove coldly replied. "You have no armies, no government, no nation. You have nothing."

Cinder turned away, hands balled into fists. Anymore and she would just murder the man in front of her. "....What. Is. Our. Mission." She grit out.

Strangelove sniffed. Standing up, he turned back to the prison. "Free Jax Asturias. Restart the Crown. Once restored, assist him in taking over Vacuo."

​"And after that?" Cinder asked. If he would tell her more...she could kill him now and just do everything herself. 

Strangelove smiled. "A lesson for another day, my dear student."

​Cinder inwardly burst into a inferno. 

+++

A/N: Update time.