Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 26 (Patreon)

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In the end, they both failed to make a compromise.

Yeaman sighed, sinking into his seat as his car drove through the streets of Atlas. Ironwood was incredibly stubborn and refused to budge. He did not need to be a political genius to recognize that if the general refused to compromise with him, everything that they had worked so hard for would be for nothing. His family had already distanced themselves from him and his friends were slowly dwindling, fully aware of his politics value vanishing. The only reason why he was still relevant was because of the seat he occupied and it was only a matter of time until his own party would vote him out of his seat.

In Atlas, politics parties could be formed provided there were members of said party and had someone to lead it. A deliberate design left from the Colour Revolution to ensure that everyone could have representation in the Council. It was noble in paper, ensuring that even the Frontier had someone to represent them in public office but practically, it was a system that had no safe-guards nor limits, making sure that only the richest could dominate it. The fact that the recently deceased Geyer managed to win was a electoral miracle considering her enemies. And now, the Bund would have to go and decide who to replace her.

Yeaman could only hope they would be quick with it lest their coalition fall. Ironwood had wanted the SDC nationalized, with the Atlesian military to run it. Not only was such an idea horrifying to think of, it would give the already powerful army even more control of a large and complex organ such as the SDC. The thought of that made Yeaman sick. Sure, Ironwood was a devoted and dutiful sort of man and Yeaman understood that but such power should never be concentrated to one man let alone the army. What if his successor was someone like General Conrad?

Yeaman shook his head. He didn't care if he was alone or if his days were numbered as election season neared. If Ironwood was going to go with his insane plan to have the military consume the SDC, he was going to have to do it alone.

Ironwood on the other hand thought differently, sitting alone in his office and gazing out of his window on to Atlas. Yeaman was obstinate in his position and he knew exactly where it came from. Yeaman was elected to his position precisely because he was a businessman and saw everything from that perspective. Comfortable as they were getting rich while them and their friends bullied, cajoled, and threatened the military to act as their attack dogs. Jacques Schnee was their idol, their prince of capitalism, their patron. The soulless and cold Jacques had dictated Atlesian foreign policy and since his rise to power and the military was forced to enforce it. Good officers who were once dedicated to Atlas and its principles were corrupted and twisted. General Conrad even was once a respectable man who argued for the modernization of Atlas's military and under him, their logistics network was fine-tuned that allowed for swift and rapid deployment. But then the SDC money arrived and whatever qualities there was in him died.

Because of Jacques and his money, Atlas was woefully under gunned. The Battle at the Mine revealed that to Ironwood.

He was starting to get tired of these businessmen and bureaucrats who would happily let the kingdom be undefended if it meant their wallets would get bigger.

Gods, he needed advice from all this.

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It was late at night at Beacon when Ozpin found his scroll ringing. To his surprise, it was Ironwood. Curious, Ozpin leaned in and took the call.

"James?"

The last time he had spoken with the good General was when the mine rescue was undergoing. He had asked reinforcements to help defend the site. There was no other reason for Ironwood to bug him so late. Their shared enemy hadn't made any moves recently and thus, it could allow them some time to relax a little.

"I need advice," Ironwood muttered, earning even more curiosity from Ozpin. James Ironwood asking for advice? That was novel, even for him. But the way his face looked so distracted quietly told him the stress young Ironwood felt.

"I'll do so with the best of my ability," Ozpin nodded in agreement.

"You once lead nations. You've surely faced opposition before. One of a civilian nature," Ironwood spoke bluntly. "How did you deal with it?"

Ah. Calling it a true opposition was stretching the term since until the Color Revolution, most kingdoms were autocratic in design and function. "I wouldn't call them opposition in a true sense, James. Rulers were absolute. Even in my most gentlest reigns, many were afraid to oppose me."

"Still, you've had experience in convincing those to go with you," Ironwood sighed. "I am at a impasse here, Ozpin."

"What would it be?" Ozpin asked.

And so, Ironwood told him. "You are aware of the current motion to shatter the SDC? Councillor Geyer is dead, killed in a Grimm attack. The ones left to champion it are in disagreement whether to continue it or to nationalize it. I am of the mind to nationalize it, under the control of the military."

Ozpin paused, not entirely expecting to be asked advice on what was admittedly a important motion that could decide the fate of Atlas. Goodness, he was going to need coffee for this. Adjusting his glasses, Ozpin leaned back. "Why do you wish to nationalize it, James?"

"Because, Ozpin, the men who have controlled it are snakes and liars beside," Ironwood said, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice. "Under their control, they have wilfully compromised the stability of Atlas and decided on matters that left the military woefully under equipped. I have seen it, Ozpin. I have seen it during the battle at the mine. By taking control, Atlas can ensure that it will never have to fear for its security ever again."

Ozpin nodded, listening in to his arguments. Personally, his sentiments regarding armies was negative. As Warrior-King of Vale, he had seen massed armies being turned against their fellow men rather than against the Grimm. They were a force of instability in their world. Ozpin remembered the strongest agents of Salem tended to infiltrate such organizations and sowed chaos under the guise of ideals. To think that humanity was nearly ended by a bureaucrat of all people. He never really got to bring down that bastard minister that convinced the Emperor of Mantle with his no emotions scheme. The slime had disappeared off the map, as it was. Old enemies aside, Ozpin stowed his thoughts back to deal with the current problem at hand.

"And you feel that taking control of the SDC would ensure Atlas's security?" Ozpin asked gently. He was aware that he was merely asking questions at this point but he needed context to better phrase his advice. Plus, this was a method of questioning some Mistralian philosopher devised to learn. He couldn't recall the exact Philosophers name but he could remember that man was executed for asking too much questions. It was an absurd way to die, killed by his fellow men for being too damned annoying.

"Yes!" Ironwood replied quickly. There was a pause as he then sighed, tired. "I think."

"You've always been so decisive, James. This is new, even for you." Ozpin noted, knowing that as soon as Ironwood decided on something, he would get it done. While it was an admirable sort of thing, it did make him unbelievably boneheaded. 

​"I have barely settled into my position and I am already facing opposition," Ironwood would have laughed but he felt no humor at this time. "This...this was different compared to what I usually do. I gave orders, it was followed. Atlas is secured."

"And there you have it, James," Ozpin said, grasping onto what the general had said himself. "A military is different from a government. You as a General cannot govern people the same way Councillor Yeaman cannot lead your troops. You both are different men in different fields. The army much like my Huntsmen exist to protect the citizens and the Kingdom, not rule it." 

"But what if the civilians keep the Kingdom from prospering, the same way that the businessmen of Atlas have corrupted the Council?" Ironwood asked. 

Ozpin paused, thinking back to the time where he had lead Vale as its King. Admittedly, there was corruption present in the government, officials wasting resources and whatnot. As king, he had centralized power to himself and made it so that officials could only really advance anywhere if they were in close proximity to him. While they wasted their time trying to woo him, he had quietly set up trusted men in the bureaucracy loyal to him. Hence Vale managing to outlast the Mantlese-Mistralian Storm with a strong government at its head.

He doubted such a thing would work here. Ironwood was the head of Atlas's military but he was no king. 

Gods, the Council style government was starting to show its limits. 

"Compromise with Yeaman," Ozpin advised. "If you continue on your idea of nationalizing the SDC under the foot of the military, it will also be a unpopular decision outside Atlas as well. Already, we have those upset about Vale not being in control of the Cross Continental Tower here in Beacon. If the Atlesian military takes control of the SDC, they will be even more upset about it." 

​"Who? Who is upset?" Ironwood asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"The Old Guard, mostly," Ozpin replied, his old Councillor Armand Rouge had shown himself to be rather obstinate and damnably perceptive hence why Ozpin mostly stayed away from the cardinal. But they weren't here for that. "That thing aside, they are not our topic at the moment. You are."

He leaned in. "I know you are dedicated and dutiful, James. But you must realize that you aren't the only man in Atlas. Councillor Yeaman can be your ally if you can be his. Work together until the matter of the SDC is concluded. Then, you can do as you wish." 

There was silence in the other end. Ozpin worried for a moment that Ironwood had dropped the call as his advice wasn't exactly what Ironwood wanted to hear. Finally, Ironwood spoke up. 

"This is tiring, Ozpin. All this politics," Ironwood said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps taking in the reigns of state isn't a good idea after all..."

"Politics and governance never is hence it attracts those with the stomach to endure it," Ozpin commented idly. "Our systems of governments are relics, I admit. They were from a time when the world was smaller and concerns pettier. In this new world of inter-connectedness, it would not be so bad an idea to have a change in government. Perhaps a more representative one, truly in line with democratic principles." 

His comment came from the exhaustion of politics. He wasn't going to go back into a slog of bickering not when his loveable former wife still held a grudge against the world. 

"I see..." Ironwood commented, a strange look on his face as he latched onto Ozpin's comments.

​"Well...does that answer your question, James?" Ozpin asked, looking back to Ironwood. 

The General shook his head, his face strangely contemplative. "Yes...you have given me something to think about. Thank you, Ozpin." 

He smiled. "I am happy to help."

​Then, the call ended which left Ozpin alone to think in his tower. Ironwood was starting to thaw and ask advice which was something good for the man, Ozpin thought. Stubbornness and tenacity had its place but too much of it would doom someone to become inflexible and insular. If General Ironwood was starting to loosen then it could only mean many good things for Atlas in the coming future.

If only Ozpin could see how his little comment would affect the future.

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New Star was the name of a exclusive club attended only by the richest and most powerful of Atlesian society. It was located in a specially built skyscraper equipped with a gym where one could be taught by the most prolific of trainers, a spa and sauna service run by pair of talented faunus twins, a indoor golf course where waiters offered trays of fine cheeses, meats, and other snacks while someone played. That and so much, much more. Willow however was not there to do any of those but rather, to isolate herself in its gardens while nursing a single cup of coffee. People have tried to approach her for rather discernible reasons but the dead fish eyes she would give them sent them walking away. 

​She did not need to have her lovable husband's business sense to see that her first board meeting was a bloody disaster. She was an interim CEO yes but she was still a Schnee, gods damn it. It meant nothing however as the Board all but bullied her into complying with their 'suggestions'. She closed her eyes, lounging on her chair as the artificial wind of New Star's gardens chilled her. 

​It was clear to her that the suggestions from the Board absolutely came from Jacques, it had his handiwork all over it. There was a cosmic sense of irony to her position. She had technically returned to her rightful place of having the SDC under her but was powerless and her husband, a man locked behind bars, still had the same power as if he hadn't left. 

Gods. What was she going to do?

"Madam Schnee?" a deep male voice spoke up. Annoyance spiked within Willow as she opened her eyes, ready to give the speaker a piece of her gods damned mind. 

"Can't you see it when someone does not want to be bo-" Her words died in her throat as in front of her stood the tall and confused form of Gerard Wayland. Next to him were two other men she vaguely recalled as executives from an aeronautic and heavy industry company. 

"Sorry," Gerard apologized, offering a small smile. "I was walking around with Mr Lockeheed and Tartan when we saw you. I thought to say hello since I assume we're going to be captains of industry. Apologies for disturbing you," 

"No, no!" Willow called out, rising from her seat. "It's fine! I'm sorry, I was just...caught off guard." She offered him an apologetic smile. "Might you gentlemen join me? Let me buy you three a coffee?" 

Mister Tartan laughed. "I will never say no to a free coffee," Tartan was an elderly man, stately if Willow could describe him. Despite his features, there was a kindness to his eyes. He had a full beard on his face, hiding cheeks fat from age. 

"Ah, I would love to but I have other business," Lockeheed sighed. He was younger but that didn't mean he was a pushover. His eyes were hawkish, implying some sort of Faunus blood there but Willow didn't care for that. 

"I'll stay for a coffee. Food and drink always tastes better when someone else is paying for it," Gerard said, winking towards Willow. The Schnee Matriarch giggled slightly at his cheekiness. 

"Make your orders then, Gentlemen," Willow said, sitting back down. 

With two new cups of coffee, the three sat down quietly. The silence broken as Tartan started to speak. "I have seen you here earlier, Madam Schnee, but you made approaching you difficult. I assume finally retaking control of the SDC had been stressful?" 

"You do not know that half of it," Willow complained, her face buried in her palms. She glanced up, face scrunched in despair. "I am the CEO, yes, but my own board does not respect me and my husband's influence is far too strong. I cannot do any meaningful change either when the stock is controlled by my husband and his pets!" Her complaints turned into a rant, frustration in her core. 

"I want nothing more but for Weiss to inherit the company but seeing those snakes seated at the board make me sick! I do not want my daughter to deal with such....such....!" The Schnee matriarch had lifted a raised fist to slam down onto the table but as it struck, it was nothing more but a light slap. 

"I'm at my wits end," Willow wept bitterly, as Gerard and Tartan awkwardly sipped their coffee. A look of pure dejection came on her face. "I...I don't know what to do. The SDC is just so big and expansive, it's like people are expecting me to ride a dragon when I haven't had practice in ages!" 

She deflated on her seat, just ready to cry. After a moment of feeling sorry for herself, she sighed. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. It's just been so frustrating." 

"Oh, don't worry, madam!" Tartan assured her. His eyes were sympathetic. "You have a difficult task so your frustration is understandable." 

Willow turned to Gerard Wayland who was also looking at her with sympathy. She blinked as she remembered something. "How did...how did you regain control of your company, sir? If I remember it correctly, Royal and Imperial had been publicly owned?" 

"Oh, it was," Gerard chuckled. Willow would not dare say it out loud but Wayland had a rather nice laugh. "We mostly regained control of our company when the previous members of the board decided to sell what they had back to us, convinced that Royal and Imperial was going to go bust. It was easier to make executive decisions when we mostly held positions. Now, the cowards are begging to buy back into the company now that we're rising again."

"And will you?" Willow asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Oh, yes. Only a little though, with contracts coming in, we aren't exactly needy for capital." Gerard smiled. 

​Willow began to think. "Perhaps I could go buy back my family's shares?" 

"The SDC remains very, very profitable, Madam Schnee. That would be a big buy," Tartan whistled. 

"If it means that the snakes in human skin won't be near my Weiss then I am willing to shelve the lien for it," Willow said with determination. No way in hells was she going to let her daughter suffer as she had. She hadn't been the best mother, she had to admit. She had fallen to wine to comfort herself, letting her children grow without her and their father. This could be the one good thing she could do in her miserable life.

"You will need support to make that happen, however," Tartan advised. "Do you have any allies in the shareholders?" 

​Willow paused. 

Then her depression returned as she sighed. "No," she lamented. 

"Who owns the most stock?" Gerard asked. 

"Technically, my family. The board controls the rest." Willow replied, a dark cloud over her head. "But the Schnee name has been hijacked by Jacques, my husband." 

"What if you divorce him?" Tartan asked. The dark cloud did not leave Willow. 

"We signed a pre-nuptial," she moaned. "We would split our assets, our wealth would be halved." 

If only she could go back in time and warn her father about the snake that would take away everything he had built. 

Gerard Wayland watched her closely, rubbing his beard in contemplation. Jacques Schnee could for example be killed and control would pass back to Willow. But he wasn't going to do that, why on Remnant would he? "You are the CEO," Gerard spoke up. Willow turned to him as he spoke. "How far are you willing to go do get what you want?"

If it meant Weiss would not breathe the same air as them then anything. "Anything," she whispered. 

"You will need to shed your timidness, then. Be ruthless, take control. As CEO, you will have access to many different things that only you can see. The first leaks damned your husband but if you would leak even more documents, you can threaten bastard shareholders by releasing such things. Or better yet, threaten to send it to the White Fang. I am quite sure they would just love knowing how their kin were treated by such people,"

Tartan nodded in agreement. "Aye. Threaten the bastards. In the meantime, you could go and reconnect with the allies your pa had, offer them positions at the board. Slowly, you will regain control of your legacy." 

Willow sat and listened. And listened closely. "Could...could you say that again?" 

"Better yet, I'll write it down for you," Gerard offered, taking out a pen and paper, jotting everything down he and Tartan had said with a little bit more advice she'd find useful. As he did so, Willow could not help but be grateful. 

"Thank you, both of you. I...I don't know why you are helping me but thank you," Willow said. 

"Madam, we hate your husband," Tartan admitted bluntly. "Believe me, you do not even have to thank us. If this means that cuck Jacques gets a pummelling, this is all for free." 

Willow gasped, covering her mouth at the blunt insult Tartan sent towards Jacques. "I...I see," Willow stammered. She afforded them a smile. "Still, thank you, Mister Tartan. Mister Wayland."

"Please, call me Gerard," Gerard Wayland said, handing the note back to Willow. She accepted it gratefully. 

"Call me Willow, then," she smiled.

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A/N: Updoot fckers