Alexander arrived at his fort with nothing but pants and an open coat.
The first to greet him was Lieutenant Hans.
"Sir, I've done the calculations on our supplies.
We have a week's worth of rations and medicines on base at the current training levels."
Alexander nodded, heading towards his office.
"Good, keep the men on their same training regimen. They're going to need it."
Hans saluted.
Alexander greeted Hans at the door of his office, who looked unfazed at his appearance.
"Sir, did the meeting with her highness go well?"
Alexander nodded.
"Better than ever, now let's properly greet our guests."
Klaus nodded, pushing open the door to reveal the visitors from Ambur.
They were going through his files and documents when they looked up.
"Ah, so you're back."
Davout was the first to speak, stepping forward.
"I take it you're ready to drop down and worship the deity of logistics and strategy?"
Alexander nodded.
"Something like that, though that deity will be worshipping me."
He took a seat at his desk, "You bastards cut off my beloved to force me to learn your ways. And now… she's more committed than ever."
Davout and the others rounded his desk, eying him suspiciously.
"But I will admit, this scare showed me the danger of being cut off from supply, so, I'm changing the doctrine of my support core. These women won't be 'like' Marines, they will be Marines. With a devotion so fierce even the beasts will offer tribute."
Captain Inés was the first to argue.
"They'll be marines?" She repeated, "You've lost your marbles, sir. These women are to transport the bullets, not fire them. You're doubling your logistical burden at a time you need to be conservative."
Alexander's grin didn't falter.
"Hard times make hard men, hard men make good choices. These women will be the hammer to my anvil. Both a reserve and the logistics. Outmaneuver our pinned foes and take what is ours!"
He pointed at the pathfinders.
"These women were born for that kind of warfare, and you'll make sure they understand just how vital their role is in these operations."
He turned to Klaus.
"I want a hundred rifles converted to sniper rifles, and get me a hundred small men's uniforms and kits."
Klaus knew that was impossible.
He could get the uniform and rifles, but they wouldn't be snipers.
He turned back to Inés.
"The women should be here by week's end, and the construction of the separate wing barracks should be completed a week from then."
Inés frowned.
"So our wing won't even be finished? Do you even care how idiotic this is?"
Alexander shook his head.
"I don't, it's a luxury we can't afford."
Captain Inés glared at him, her professional mask crumbling by the second.
"Sir." She replied through gritted teeth.
Davout smiled.
"This will be spectacular."
— — —
One week later, the gates opened to a line of rickety wagons.
Some carried supplies, but the others carried women.
Starved, gaunt, and terrified women.
Most were orphans of the previous war or motherless children who lost their only source of income.
Alexander blinked at the sight.
"What is this?"
Wagner whistled.
"Holy shit…"
Alexander turned to Klaus.
He sighed.
"These are women whose lives were upended by the war, they were the cheapest we could afford."
He turned towards Alexander.
"They're not here for money, they're here for food and shelter. This allows us to fully equip them with what would've been their salary."
Alexander massaged his chin.
"Okay, time out," he whispered to himself, already calculating a new training routine.
The platoons of half-naked marines paused their training, turning to look at the arriving wagons.
Some looked genuinely baffled at the sight, while others looked sympathetic.
Alexander snapped at Wagner, and within seconds he was barking.
"GET BACK TO WORK YOU SORRY SACKS OF SHIT! YOU'RE NOT TRAINED TO GAWK, YOU'RE TRAINED TO KILL! MOVE, MOVE!"
As the marines scrambled back to their positions, Alexander turned to Klaus.
"Get the captain and pathfinders, join us in the new wing."
— — —
The new wing of the fort was a patchwork of building frames.
With the barracks being the only buildings resembling their final form.
The smell of fresh pine and sawdust carried in the wind.
Contractors worked through the commotion of the new arrivals, carrying 2x4s and tools.
Alexander approached the lead wagon, driven by Klaus.
The woman inside eyed him with fear and caution, their eyes wide and hollow.
They looked like reanimated skeletons now that he had gotten closer.
"Out, all of you."
Alexander's tone lacked its usual charm and enthusiasm.
Replaced by something that could almost be mistaken for empathy.
The women hesitated, before finally stepping out of the wagons.
They gathered near the center wagon, with the younger girls forming a central group.
Alexander crossed his arms.
Just then Klaus arrived with the Amburian personnel.
"Right on time," Alexander mused.
Inés turned her gaze on the crowd of women and snarled.
"Is this a joke?!" She threw a hand in the air, "I thought you were building a support core, not a humanitarian crisis."
Alexander glared at her.
"Watch your tone, captain. These women have offered themselves to me, to my cause. I won't let you disrespect them."
Inés stopped before him.
"That wasn't disrespectful, sir. It's a fact, these women are just as soon to die from a disease rather than bullets."
Alexander inwardly grinned, turning away from Inés and towards the women.
"You hear this?"
He asked them, gesturing towards Inés, "She believes you all are a lost cause. Tell me, do you feel the same?"
The woman exchanged a few glances, some awkwardly nodding.
Alexander pointed a finger at them.
"Wrong."
He replied, making them jump.
"You are not a lost cause, you are broken. Left behind to rot in the streets as the world spins."
He stepped towards them.
"But I have not given up on what's broken, because what's broken can be mended."
He smiled warmly, "and often, what emerges from the ashes is more beautiful than what was burned. I want that for you, all of you. So just as I am taking a chance on you, I ask that you take a chance on me. Will you do that?"
The woman stared.
Alexander's words were warm but the air was colder.
His promises were full, but their bellies were empty.
They came not for his sake, but for the promise of shelter and a meal.
"Excuse me… sir, we were promised food."
Alexander nodded.
"And you will have it, as much as you can stand. You will sleep in warm beds tonight, and you will be treated for all wounds. This is not your hell, ladies. This is your salvation."
He turned to Klaus.
"Have the men sleep in the mess hall tonight, those who can't fit, will sleep in the new wing."
Klaus saluted, turning to leave.
He turned back to the women.
"Follow Captain Inés, she'll lead you to your new accommodations."
The woman shuffled.
Inés looked as if she wanted to rip Alexander's head from his body.
"Sir."
She stepped in front of the group, while the pathfinders flanked.
As they moved out of earshot, Alexander turned to Hans.
He sat quietly on the lead carriage, rubbing a thumb along the reins.
"Hans… you ready to run a month-long class with Captain Inés? Should give the women time to heal while simultaneously training them."
Hans looked over his shoulder with wide eyes.
"You want me to help? But I thought…"
Alexander chuckled softly.
"Look, we all made mistakes on that raid, I realize that now. So, I'm promoting you to captain of the support core."
Hans blinked, pointing to himself.
"S-sir? Are you sure?"
Alexander nodded.
"Absolutely, I'm low on good officers… and Inés doesn't like me much."
Hans hesitantly smiled.
"I won't let you down again sir, I promise!"