[b]Jharkhand, India[/b] Gaya-Calcutta Line [i]Tch. Clink. Tch. Clink. Tch. Clink.[/i] A team of workers cut away at the undergrowth of vast, untamed Jharkhand territory to clear the way for a railroad line to connect Calcutta on the eastern banks of India to Gaya, and by extension, Sukkur in Pakistan. Their bare backs tense and glisten as they swing their machetes, their axes, their picks and their hammers to the silent beat of a layman’s labor. Behind them a group of men, armed with large-caliber rifles and wearing camouflage slacks and Indian army berets, anxiously scan the tree line for slivers of movement. The Jharkhand is an untamed wilderness, home to the regal and ferocious Bengal tiger and the mountainous and powerful Indian elephant, and the slightest lapse in their vigil could bring the construction of the railroad to a grinding halt. It is midday, in the later part of the summer season. The temperature soars to an excess of one-hundred-and-twenty degrees fahrenheit. The sun’s rays scorch the backs of the laborers who lay blisteringly hot steel track behind the felling team with heavy sledgehammers. A foreman watches over them - an army colonel, six feet tall and dark - he rides a small stream carriage over the freshly laid track at a crawling pace behind the laborers, with a train laden with rations of food and munitions for the work crew. He yawns and looks to his aide: a young boy, maybe nine or ten years old with short, curly, unkempt black hair and relatively light skin; he is shirtless, like the majority of the day-laborers, and his stomach is flat and his arms are skinny, but his legs are muscly and his feet are dark and callused. “Hey, Joseph," the Colonel beckoned to the boy, "Run to the advance crew and tell them to come back. It's lunchtime." The boy smiled and nodded excitedly, "Yessir!" Then he took off, the boy's bare feet smacked against the hard-packed red clay of the Jharkhand. He ducked and weaved between swinging sledgehammers and hoisted steel rails, between the fit young men who moved the rail and the hearty middle aged men who hammered them in place. A voice bellowed, "Timber!" up ahead. A tall tree creaked and groaned as it fell to the ground, kicking up lose dirt with a [I]thud[/i]. The cloud of dust clung to Joseph as he leapt over the tree "Hey, kid, watch it!" the lumberjack yelled after him. Joseph turned around and laughed, "Sorry!" He ran through the treeline, his feet smashed twigs and leaves into the soil. Up ahead, the crew was busy hacking away at the underbrush with dull machetes as the soldiers kept a careful eye on the treeline. "Hey! Hey!" Joseph waved at the crew, "Come on! It's time for lunch!" A young man, maybe seventeen years old stood up and slid his machete into a leather sheath on his waist. He held his arm outstretched, held it in the elbow of his other arm, and twisted about his waist. He could feel his spine crack and he groaned as he dropped his arms and rolled his head. The man turned around as the boy Joseph ran up to him. He smiled and ruffled Joseph's dirty black hair. "John! Stop it!" Joseph whined. John laughed and started walking through the forest he had cleared, holding his hands behind his head - Joseph. The more one watched them, the more familial the pair looked. They had the same curly black hair, the same light skin, and the same lithe build (despite John having much more defined arms and abdominals). The pair were unmistakably brothers. John had scars up and down his back "How much longer?" Joseph asked. "What do you mean? You just ran it." "That's not what I meant," Joseph pouted. John laughed, "I know," he sighed, "We probably won't finish before the rainy season." "Oh..." Joseph looked down at his feet, "What will we do then?" "I dunno, take the train back to Calcutta I guess." Joseph nods solemnly, "I hope we finish before then." "Yeah, me too." John looks down at him, pats his back, and gives him a reassuring smile. "It'll be alright." --- [B]Bombay[/b] Adm. Banister's Residence "Oh no! Captain! We're sinking! Ah!" Liam Banister laughed as he slowly pulled the toy boat beneath the surface of the water. His daughter, three years old, clapped her hands and giggled, "I sunk daddy's ship!" "You sure did, Christina," he chuckled, "you'd make a fine captain someday." "You think so?" Liam smiled as he lathered up his hands with a flowery-scented shampoo. "The very best," he said as he began to run his hands through her long blonde hair. She smiled wide and they laughed together. "Alright, cover your eyes." Christina pressed her hands tightly over her eyes. Liam scooped up water in his cupped hands and poured it over her head to wash out the lather. "And we're done," he said as he stood up, water dripping from his bathing shorts. He held a hand out to Christina, "Come along then. Let's get you dried off." She nodded and pulled herself up with his help, he grabbed her under the arms and hoisted her over the edge of the bathtub. She picked up two towels from a cabinet as he opened the drain to let the water out. She held one out to him and he smiled, "Thank you, dear." She beamed, "Mhm!" He laughed and wiped her down with the towel before wrapping her up in it, "There you go, now go on and let Anita dress you. I won't be long." She nodded and turned around before scurrying off down the hall. Liam chuckled to himself as she left and strode to the large mirror the hung over his washbasin. He turned the faucet and looked at himself in the mirror. He stroked his graying, curly, captain's beard and ran his hand over his thinning scalp. "Getting old, aren't I?" He laughed to himself and covered up with a white bathrobe. Before making his way to his bedroom and changing into a crimson red smoking jacket, black trousers, and black leather loafers. Before leaving, the old admiral pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out an ornately carved box. He opened it up and pulled out a smoking pipe, made out of carved ivory and inlaid with gold, as well as a tin of pipe tobacco. He sat on the porch of his sea-side estate, not far from the busy port city of Bombay, rocking in his chair and smoking his pipe as he watched the tide of the Arabian sea go in and out. His little girl sat at his side, on the ground, coloring in a book of blank pages with wax crayons of all hues. He flipped his pipe over and let the ash fall on a plate at his side before laying his head back on the chair and closing his eyes for a well-needed and well-deserved mid-day nap. --- [B]Former Tribal Areas, Pakistan[/b] Unknown Village [I]Takka, takka, takka, takka, takka, takka, takka...[/I] Bullets whizzed overhead, creating little puffs of dust where they connect with the dirt behind a group of Indian soldiers. They were pinned down by machine gunfire coming from a village on a rocky outcrop. The village was occupied by tribal Pakistani rebels opposed to their ancestral lands coming under Federal rule. A unit of ten Indian soldiers was deployed to the region to put down the resistance. The two sides exchanged volleys of gunfire for several hours, with the Indian soldiers gaining no ground. On a nearby hill, however, an Indian marksman took aim. He lined up his sights with the machine gunner's chest and let out a long, deep breath before firing. Miss. He readjusted and fired. Miss. Again. Bullseye. The machinegunner was sent spiraling backwards and with the suppression lifted, the soldiers rushed the village. Later that evening, around a campfire, the soldiers reveled in their victory and drunk to their health. The deployment's NCO pulled their marksman aside, "That was some fine shooting, Lance Corporal Singh." "It could've been better." "Bah! Don't put yourself down, kid. You're good. I got a telegram from General Jones, he wants to reassign you to the first brigade." "In Delhi?" Singh asked, astonished. "Yep, says he could use a fresh sniper." "Well when do I leave?" he asked, excitedly. "What're anxious to leave us, boy?" the NCO let out a hearty chuckle, Singh laughed awkwardly. "Kidding. You leave tomorrow morning at dawn. A truck will take you straight to the capital. You're going places." "Thank you." Singh smiled and nodded his head. "Dismissed."