A day had passed since the woman from the support core arrived, and things were spiraling out of control.
Alexander sat in his office, looking at the expenses of just housing and feeding them.
His week of provisions had shrunk to three days, and Elizabeth was still in the process of liquidating her assets.
It could be weeks until he saw any of that money.
"Food… we need food."
He muttered to himself.
He had spent hours thinking about ways to get cheap food, fishing and hunting came to mind.
But his men would starve before they learned, and hiring someone to do it was out of the question.
Ambur had canned food, but the import tax would kill his funds.
He thought about raiding foreign lands, but that could start a war he wasn't capable of winning.
He sighed, tapping his desk.
"Food… food… food…"
Part of him, a small sliver of weakness, prompted him to beg Queen Charlotte for a year's worth of canned goods.
But he killed that idea as soon as it sprouted.
Then a second idea came to mind.
What if he robbed the rich?
Robin Hood style.
A little gold here, some livestock there.
Just enough until Elizabeth's money started rolling in.
Alexander chuckled softly, shaking his head.
Nah, that's stupid.
But maybe he could charm them into giving 'donations'.
Now that was a killer idea.
Though, instead of the rich, what if he targeted the needy?
The middle and lower classes.
He could promise them a future spot in his Marine Corps, for the immediate benefit of food.
And with Elizabeth's plan of securing and selling Demon Continent assets, he could promise future jobs too.
"Buy-in into your new future. A little sacrifice, for a lifetime of benefits."
He smirked, slamming his hand against his desk.
"Goddess damn, I'm a genius!"
He didn't wait, he charged out of his office with renewed energy.
He found Klaus and Wagner on the parade grounds, where they had the main force practicing drills.
"Klaus, Wagner, I've had a revolutionary idea!"
The two sergeants stared at their commander, whose eyes were burning with a manic fever.
"We're ready to hear it, sir."
Alexander nodded.
"Our main problem is that we're running low on everything, right?"
He began pacing, "and how do we fix that, by exchanging what we do have?"
"And what's that, sir?"
"Hope."
Alexander answered, "Hope in a future that is better than today. And who is in a market for that hope, but the peasants of the villages and workers in the cities?"
Wagner raised an eyebrow.
"Sir? I'm not sure I understand."
Alexander sighed, stepping closer.
"You don't need to, just get 18 of our best-looking marines and dress them in full kit."
"Aye, sir."
He turned to Klaus.
"You get a caravan ready, we're gonna be returning with a lot of grain."
Klaus hesitated.
"We're not raiding our own kin, are we, sir?"
Alexander shook his head.
"What kind of psycho robs his own people? I wouldn't even consider such a thing."
Klaus sighed.
"Aye, sir."
— — —
An hour later Alexander stood before 18 of his strongest men.
Broad shoulders, strong jaws, and a height that reached to the heavens.
They were dressed in full kit, from their bolt-action to their full-brimmed helmet.
Alexander had them roll their sleeves up to better reveal their biceps.
Alexander could help but grin.
"Attention!"
The men stopped their boots as they stood straight.
"Gentlemen, today you are more than killers! You are ambassadors! We will march out before the locals and show them what we, as Marines, are about. You will project the image of protection, of freedom, of hope."
Alexander stopped his pacing, pointing at his largest marine.
"We mustn't forget where we came from, or the people who've supported us. We were once farmers and poor folk. Abandoned by the wealthy and the government, but we came together to form something new. And we are going to offer that to the people of this kingdom, are you ready?"
The Marines saluted.
"Aye, sir!"
"Excellent! Then let's load up, and head out!"
As they filed into the wagons, Inés and Davout watched from a distance.
"Every day this boy does something more reckless than the last."
She shook her head.
"He isn't a commander, he's a damn conman. A fake, a liar, a cheat. He makes promises he can't keep, and people still believe him! Why? Why do they believe him?"
Davout didn't turn, instead, he twirled his mustache with fascination.
"I think the real question is why wouldn't they believe him? He's a professional in his field, and the people are his customers, his patients."
He chuckled softly, "The same way you trust your doctor. He could lie to your face, and you'd believe him because he's wearing a coat."
Inés' eyes widened before she frowned.
"That's different."
He finally turned to Inés, "Is it?"
He gestured towards the trail. "Come, let's see this doctor treat his patients."
— — —
Alexander's first stop was the village of Oakhaven.
It was a farming village near the mountain range, with small buildings dotted about.
Alexander's caravan rolled down the main path where most of the villagers lived.
The sight of his caravan and pristine soldiers caused the villagers to slam their windows shut and rush into their homes.
Another taxation, they thought.
Another draft.
Or worse.
Alexander stopped in the village square, disembarking with a gentle smile.
He turned to his men, waving a hand at them.
"Take off your helmets, relax your stance, you're making this look like a shake down."
His marines looked confused, but obeyed.
With their helmets resting under their arm, they looked more like the villagers they came to see, rather than bringers of death.
Alexander then took his men to the village head, who walked out to meet them.
"My lord," the man spoke with a calm reverence.
"We've already paid our taxes this cycle, perhaps there was a problem with the paperwork?"
Alexander shook his head.
"I am not here to collect taxes, I'm here to offer you a deal. If you're willing to listen, that is."
The village head paused in front of Alexander, tilting his head as his green eyes narrowed.
"A deal, for us? I… I suppose I'm willing to hear it."
Alexander smiled warmly, bowing.
"Thank you, I am the Grand Commander of the Colonial Marines. And the deal I offer is more of an investment. You see, my men have recently been cut from their supply, and it could be weeks before the funds return. I was hoping that in exchange for whatever food you could spare, I could offer you a guaranteed return."
The village head raised an eyebrow.
"A return?" He echoed.
"Indeed, your investment in my marines will allow them to continue their operations. In return, I can guarantee positions in my corp, male or female. They'll start with one golden ember a month as pay, that's 3 coppers a day."
The man almost choked, coughing to clear his throat.
Alexander smirked.
"But if that's not your cup of tea, when our stores refill I promise that you can take home just as much food as you've sent us. On top of that, you can request marines for missions that are too dangerous or expensive for pathfinders. And we'll do them for free."
The village head felt his world spin as he stepped forward.
"M-my lord, I…"
Alexander steadied him.
"You don't have to decide now, we'll be here for a few hours. You can speak to my men, or have your people speak if you don't believe me."
The village head nodded, rushing into the council building.