Prologue: Scars

Vacant eyes impassively surveyed the slowly approaching coastline. Barely distinguishable shapes rising from the crystal blue depths assaulted the lone sentinel with a breath taking vista of tropical splendor. Palm trees, white sand beaches, volcanic ridges, tropical grasslands, and distant sister islands swirled together to meet the orange-red sky of an approaching dawn in a breath taking display of nature's glory. A barely audible sigh permeated the morning calm as the sole occupant of the observation deck shifted into a more comfortable pose. Silence returned to the morning air as the stoic figure retreated deeper into memories and the great ship lumbered on.

A bugle call floated on the breeze. The silent observer tilted its head in search of the source. Minutes later a second bugle call flitted by, and men could be seen standing at attention on a passing parade field. The call ceased. Cannon fire echoed through the air, and silence reigned. The thunk of a hatch closing drew the gaze of the watcher as an officer garbed in dress blues halted two paces from the figure's right.

"Watching the ceremony?"

The figure turned from the railing to face the new arrival. Sunlight broke across the deck as the ship executed a turn in preparation for docking. A well tanned face framed by a mane of brunette hair with fiery highlights only revealed by the rising sun faced an aged visage topped by gray hair. Hazel eyes traced a barely visible scar along the man's cheek. Vacant hazel locked with calm, calculating, haunted brown.

Not all scars are physical... "Honestly, I don't even know what day it is. I've lost track..."

"December 7th." The officer's attention drifted into the distance.

The brunette paused and considered the date. A memorial in the harbor captured her gaze, and a solitary word flickered across her vision: Arizona. "Oh... right..." Hazel eyes focused on the murky water.

"Sixty-seven years to the day," Brown eyes shifted to their companion, "but that's not what weighs on your mind. Is it?"

"No..."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes... but I can't. Not out here at least." Hazel eyes darted towards the security camera behind her visitor before focusing on the man before her. "Meet me in the aft most engineering compartment and bring the team. They need to hear it too." I'm tired of hiding...

"Usual rules?"

"Yeah."

The man nodded and placed his hand on the young woman's shoulder. "We'll find him. Don't worry." With that the man turned and left.

The young woman turned her gaze to the sun, and sighed. Glancing at the sun light playing off the ring on her left hand, her expression broke into a determined frown. "Hang in there, Jeremie. I'm coming." Turning on her heel the woman entered the ship and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

The whine of a charge pump followed by a sharp click announced to the occupants of the room that it was now safe to proceed. A man in the back of the group was all too eager to start the conversation rolling.

"So... why are we here?"

"Eloquent as ever, John." The eldest occupant of the compartment noted.

"You're just jealous, Commander." The man responded with a ghost of a smile.

"Alright, John. Since you just volunteered yourself, I'm going to ask you a few questions." The hazel-eyed brunette stated as she emerged from the shadows.

"Ali, baby. You can question me as much as you want. The rougher the better." John retorted with a wink.

"Arrogant ass..." The woman rolled her eyes and continued. "I'll start off with an easy one: Who am I?"

John scoffed. "That's easy. Name: Alison Elaine Fontineau. Age: 18. Born: February 12th, 1992 in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. Height: 5' 2". Weight: 140 lbs. Hair Color: Brunette. Eye Color: Hazel. Shoe-size: 9. Cup-size: B." John paused briefly to smirk at the glare he received. "Parents: Mark and Madeline Fontineau, both deceased. Home schooled. Graduated Ole Miss. Graduated MIT. Ph D's in computer science with concentration on advanced computing algorithms, quantum computing, and artificial intelligence. Joined Naval Intelligence two years ago. Extensive combat training including advanced hand-to-hand and small arms. An expert marksman who also works magic with a blade."

John paused and visually surveyed his subject. Ali opened her mouth to respond, but John cut her off.

"I also believe that your entire file is complete bullshit. You're not a day over 16. You weren't born anywhere on the gulf coast. I doubt you've graduated high school much less college. You are definitely not an intelligence agent. I doubt you've have had any formal military training." He paused in consideration. "There's also something off about your hair color. What were you? A red head?"

"Pink."

The level response brought the room to sudden silence. Noting the silence of her companions, she cocked an eyebrow and glanced around. "What?"

John closed the distance between them and closely scrutinized her face. A look of frustration slid onto his visage as he focused on the area where her hair partially covered her ear. His eyes narrowed and he swiftly lifted the hair covering the skin to reveal a sight that made him stumble back and level his sidearm at the girl. His companions instantly rose to support John, while the girl's eyes widened and focused on the barrel of the gun.

"What the fuck are you?"

"Don't worry. I'm human." She took a breath and slowly released it. "Mostly. What else would I be?"

"Oh? Really? Last time I checked, humans don't have pointed ears. For all I know you could be one of Santa's merry little elves." Ali flinched at the comment, and her alarmed gaze quickly vanished to reveal a murderous glare.

"Says the resident leprechaun." John's grip on the weapon visibly tightened. "I don't give a fuck what you think about my appearance, John. So I have elf ears? Big. Fucking. Deal. You should be more concerned about who I am than what I am. Now get that 9 millimeter out of my face and let me explain."

John glanced sideways at the commander who nodded and holstered his weapon. John returned his gazed to Ali, and joined his companions in lowering his weapon.

"Alright. What is your real name?"

A knowing smirk spread across her face as she replied. "Je m'appelle Aelita Schaeffer."