[h2]The Present Day - Zanjar Islands[/h2]

Morning, young and orange blanketed the sky above the tropical island in the blooming shades of a late dawn, the sleepy isle waking up from it's slumber and setting about with it's daily business. The world was not the same world it was 50 odd years ago, things have changed under the march of progress, There were new powers where there use to be old ones and old powers that withstood the test of time, all of them were vying for more land, more sources, to be on top. And the islands were one such example. Colonized on both sides by nations that wished to spread there might far form home. The Tinites and the Elves of Yllendthyr, expanding far and subjugating more lands and more peoples.

All this made Gustavo sick. He stubbed his cigarette on the railing of the balcony and looked down on the sprawling colonial town with distaste from his perch on high, jutting off of a rented room in a shoddy tenement building. He turned to face into the room, his team was inside, clueing their guns and going over the plan mentally, Gustavo just hoped that Vasili was ready, his comrade on the Elven side of the island. 

"Alright, We move out now, for the glory of the revolution." Everyone nodded and readied themselves, "Go to the truck, I'll be down in a moment." they did as they were told and started to vacate the room, Gustavo, instead of following entered small side room where a Radio set sat on a table. He picked up a crowbar propped up on the wall and began to smash the radio equipment, what was to happen could not be traced back to the motherland. After finishing and throwing the set onto the floor, he picked up his satchel and headed downstairs, to the awaiting truck. The drive was a short one, tense to considering the situation, at one point Gustavo couldn't hold his cigarette straight and had to have one of his men steady it so he could light it, his tremoring too violent for him to do it on his own.

The truck squealed to a stop behind an inn, and everyone hopped off, jumping out of the canvas covered back or from the cab. 

"Everyone, positons." ordered Gustavo, "Sam, on me."

Sam was a young one, only just left basic training but he was eager to support the cause of the revolution and was sent over to Gustavo to learn a thing or two before being sent back for officer training. The pair walked calmly through the winding roads of the provincial capital, Gustavo was looking for a good spot and Sam, Sam was just excited.

"What exactly are we doing here?" queried Sam, looking around the colonial town with wonder at the beautiful architecture but pity because of the chipping paint and crumbling bricks, "This place could really do with s renovation." he mumble. Gustavo snorted, of course it did, it was a neglected colony of an evil empire, why would they spare a coin to make the lives of the locals better.

"We are here to make progress." Was all Gustavo said as they entered a crowded market square, filled with busy stalls and busy people, buying and selling things that they needed. It disgusted Gustavo, the state should be looking after them, or at least subsidizing their food, it was barbaric. Gustavo turned to Sam, "That fountain in the middle, it is surrounded by stone benches, put your satchel under one of the benches and then clear off, preferably back to the truck." Sam was about to protest, wanting yo know what was gong on but knew better after realizing that was a command. "And don't look in the satchel." The boy nodded and stalked off.

Gustavo watched him for a few moments, studying his motions intently, "He'll make a good soldier." he mumbled, before turing to and walking away in his own direction. He pretended to peruse the stalls, looking at things and greeting locals and being otherwise inconspicuous, he was pretending until that is he found a delightful red scarf, he bought it form the old lady behind the counter and decided not to leave his satchel there. Instead he left it by a police box. As he walked away, he lit another cigarette and puffed it casually, once at a considerable distance he watched the square and found Sam still by the bench. The boy looked distraught and he had his hand on the flap of the satchel, Gustavo slipped his hand into his pocket and willed for him not to open it, Sam didn't, much to Gustavo's relief and the boy had retuned to a pat on the back and a cigarette. 

They all bungled back into the truck and blitzed down the dirt road out of the town. Gustavo pulled out his pocket radio and slid out the antenna, "Vasili, ready?"

"Ready on my end." replied a tinny, distant voice from beyond the speaker.

Gustavo pulled a small metal box from his pocket and spoke into his radio, "contact." he pushed the button and an explosion unleashed itself in the market square, outside the governor building. Directly afterwards, another fainter, more distant explosion sounded off. Gustavo kept a straight face, "Lets go back home." he muttered.