Aung San stood in the center of a village in the jungles of Burma. Around him lie bodies scattered in the hundreds, perhaps even thousands. He stood not in the ceremonial dress uniform of a parade general. But the fatigues of a field commander.
In his hand rested an old Mauser C96 "Broomhandle" pistol, its muzzle pointed to the forehead of a disarmed combatant.
"You and your kind are a plague…. And how do we get rid of plagues?"
*bang*
The gunshot echoed throughout the treeline as the body fell limp to the floor, blood and grey matter splattered through a mix of bone across the tall grass.
As Aung San gazed at his handiwork, he heard a voice erupt behind him.
"We excise it…."
Aung An looked back, not pleased that someone had answered his question. There he saw a young junior officer, who retreated a few steps back when he saw the fury in his general's eyes.
"What did you just say?"
