Morning came unbidden as it always does. We would love to tell you, dear reader, that Charlie awoke sweetly in sun-warmed sheets. That wouldn't be fair to you, because it would be a fantastical lie.

Charlotte Nacht woke up tangled in stiflingly hot sheets, with a bright light in her eyes, a too warm body next to her, and another body on her feet.

"Barnabus! Get off the bed." She yelled at her boyfriend's dog and kicked him off the bed. She started to push Justin off of her when her brain informed that this body was far too light and was giggling. She took a cautious peek at the bed intruder and saw a little brown-haired girl smiling with all of the innocence and joy that can only exist when you're five.

"Doggy fell off the bed." Charlie was informed in between giggles.

Charlie's heart was racing, this wasn't her bed and yesterday hadn't been some strange stress dream and she wasn't able to come to this conclusion gradually on her own. A little ball of giggles was informing her of this truth. Thankfully for Grace Talitha, she was simply too adorable to be angry at. Not that she was unaware of this fact, Grace was well aware that there were few things she couldn't do if she just smiled and giggled. So she knew exactly how Charlie was going to react, even before Charlie was aware of it.

Charlie walked into the kitchen with the bundle of giggles tucked under one arm and the other arm was busy keeping Grace well supplied with aforementioned giggles. Debbie gave Charlie an alarmed look.

Charlie set the girl down, "I'm sorry, Debbie. She was just … I woke up and … "

Debbie raised a hand to stop the flustered girl. "It's ok. You're fine. I'm sorry that she woke you up." She gave Grace a mock stern look, "One day you're going to have to learn some manners."

Brazenly ignoring her mother, Grace ran out of the room under the premise of "Gonna get doggy."

With a full night of sleep and a much clearer head, Charlie was able to appraise Deborah Wallis. Deborah could not have been much older than Charlie, well old Charlie not this new young Charlie. The woman was probably in her early thirties, Charlie surmised. As she ate the breakfast that Deborah offered her, she tried to get a handle on the situation.

So I'm in the home of a young couple, an Ex-military and a doctor, they have a young daughter. I'm definitely in some kind of small village. Commune hippies?

Well that doesn't really fit with the rather excellent medical care you received last night.

I refuse to believe that I'm on some secret government base located in the Amazon. This is not the X-Files.

So the whole waking up in a rainforest and then being attacked by a dinosaur isn't weird at all? I mean you have to, at least, admit that Mulder would find this all a little bit intriguing.

True. However, there wasn't really enough security around the outskirts for this to be a base, hell I didn't even see a fence. I'm not going to pretend to understand this, but it just doesn't fit.

Debbie kept Charlie in her peripheral vision while she cleaned up the kitchen. She thought that the poor girl looked lost. She was fairly positive that Charlie was young, but there was something in the way the girl carried herself that struck Debbie as odd. Charlie seemed to favor her left side, which was strange since she was clearly right handed. The girl's face seemed off as well, she looked troubled and old. Debbie exhaled as she put the last of the dishes away. She was afraid she knew Charlie's story before the girl had a chance to tell it. She had seen these signs before. It was one of the reasons that Debbie had decided that a quiet colony life was preferable to the bustle of an emergency room.

"So." Debbie plastered on her best gentle doctor face. "Why don't we step in the office and see if I can give you a full work up and make sure you didn't pick up something nasty in the jungle."

"Sure."

"And maybe I can get you to give me a few details of your story?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I can probably do that."

Debbie led Charlie back the same patient room and offered her a chair. Then she pulled a small device off of the wall and proceeded to move it around Charlie's body.

"Ethan tells me that you don't remember how you got here?"

"Yeah that's right."

"Well what do you remember?"

"Well I was at school and I guess I just blacked out. Because the next thing I knew I was waking up in this rainforest."

"Where was this school?"

"Florida. Well Jacksonville, Fl; if I'm being specific."

Debbie almost dropped the device and gave Charlie a really strange look. Charlie thought it looked like disbelief, with a little bit of something else … sympathy? She perfectly understood the emotion of disbelief, feh, that's been her primary emotion for the past twenty-four hours.

"Florida?"

Charlie nodded her head.

"Earth?"

Charlie twisted her face up into the best "duh" look she had and nodded her head again.

"What was the date?"

"I'm not really sure. I think it was the second week in October?"

Charlie had a sinking feeling. Like her heart was attempting to reposition itself lower in her anatomy. She whispered, "Why?"

Debbie closed the scanner and set a reassuring hand on her patient's shoulder. "Well it's January 4."

"Where am I? You asked if I was from Earth, which implies that there is an option that isn't Earth."

Charlie wasn't concerned with the date. So what if it's a different month? She just lost ten years, what was a few months? Charlie had this gnawing ache in her chest that she knew where this conversation was going, but she wanted to hear the words out loud.

"You're on Mindoir." In response to Charlie's blank look, she added. "That's in the Attican Traverse."

Attican Traverse … medi-gel …

Charlie knew that she should know this. It was like a whisper in the back of her mind. She was fighting the urge to panic. Charlie just couldn't quite make the pieces fit. She tried to coax that little voice to tell her the truth, but it decided to remain frustratingly quiet.

"What year is it?" She asked the floor.

"2169"

Charlie knew that Debbie was continuing to speak. She could feel the woman walking around the room, no doubt continuing whatever tests she was going to run. However, Charlie could not be bothered with this information. Her mind was in shambles. 2169? How could that be right, she thought.

Maybe I am crazy.

If you were crazy, then that makes me crazy and I don't buy it.

Charlie was not convinced by her reasonable voice's opinion, but wisely chose not to argue the point. Her mind was in shambles, rapid-fire questions were being asked and she didn't have the brainpower to answer them all. The connotations of Debbie's revelation were massive. How did I get here, Where is Earth, What happened to all the people I knew, What form of technology got us out here, Did the warp field theory actually have merit, What happened in Game of Thrones? The pure absurdity of that last question caused Charlie to shake her head and take a deep breath. With a monumental effort she locked down the constant stream of queries and let her logical mind come to the forefront.

So I'm either in 2169 or I'm not, right?

Correct.

If I am in 2169, then that would mean I travelled to my relative future. However, if I am not in 2169, then that means Debbie is lying to me.

Again correct. So putting aside any thoughts of time travel, does Debbie have any reason to lie to you? What would she gain from this?

Charlie gave the woman a calculating stare. Debbie was in the process of taking a blood sample from Charlie and assumed that the glare was due to the pain. "Sorry dear, it's just a prick. I'll be done in a minute."

The woman looked normal enough to Charlie. Blue shirt and khaki pants underneath a lab coat were decidedly not nefarious and her face was filled with kind emotions and the hint of pity was still there. Charlie resumed her steady stare at the floor, she hated pity. Pity from doctors was the worst kind of pity. She knew that look so well. Every time they told her that she needed to resume physical therapy or the swelling would never go down, every time they hinted at the possibility of her losing her ability to walk at all, and each one of those times she would lose her tentative control of her temper and usually throw something at them while letting loose a stream of curses that would have made her Rabbi blush. Each one of those visits ended with the same look of pity.

Charlie gave the floor a scowl in retaliation for making her think of the memory.

She looks nice enough. Why would she lie?

Oh? She's a nice person? Well by all means trust her with then. Of course if you do that means you are willing to accept the idea that it's 2169, but you're right if someone seems nice then you should just go ahead and trust them.

Shtup ir.

Shame shame, such language coming from your mouth. What would bubbe say?

She'd probably agree.

"Alright Charlie, I'm all done here. I know Ethan waiting for you in the living room if you wouldn't mind heading out there."

Charlie stood up out of the chair and looked down at the tiny woman. Not sure if she should trust her, she gave her a wary glance and heading out to the living room to find Ethan.

She found Ethan sitting on the couch watching Grace build a fort out of pillows and garish cushions. Ethan asked Charlie a few polite, general questions about where she was from. He didn't want to scare the girl off, but the wary and distrusting looks she kept shooting him forced him to treat her like a wounded animal. "I can't help but notice that your accent isn't quite what I expected from a Floridian." He cautiously probed.

The question was not unfamiliar to Charlie. She grew up in Jacksonville, but in a small Jewish community with her grandparents so, especially when she was flustered or under stress, her voice would mimic her bubbe's with all the exaggerated high tones.

"Well I was raised in Florida, but my family is from New York. You know, the 'Great Jewish Exodus'." She gave Ethan a smirk as if that explained it all.

The look on Ethan's face meant that her explanation was clearly insufficient. "My Bubbe was the classic New York Jew, my grandfather wasn't, but that's a whole 'nother story. Anyways they all picked up and moved to the Sunshine State after my mother, God rest her soul, decided it was a fantastic time to start showing." She placed her hands over her stomach in mimicry of pregnancy.

Ethan sat there with his mouth open as if he was going to say something, but decided to drop it. He cleared his throat and asked something else. "So, you're Jewish?" He spaced the words out, desperately hoping that he wasn't saying something offensive.

"Well that's what my rabbi tells me anyway." Charlie gave a soft chuckle at the inside joke. She had never really been sure she actually believed in God or if was all just stories, but Moishe Applebaum had informed her, time and time again, that this actually made her a very good Jew. He encouraged her skepticism and engaged her in heated philosophical arguments weekly. Charlie had to admit that they were really good arguments and that the stories weren't bad either. She felt a sudden pang of homesickness for the nights full of good food, copious amounts of wine, and the heat of the same old argument with the old man.

"You're telling me that this 'all-powerful and all-knowing' God of yours just looked at Sodom and Gomorrah and thought 'Hey I just noticed those guys are doing some weird stuff. Guess I should kill them or whatever.' Never mind that there were innocent people living there. I mean I'm not so sure that I can get behind that kind of malicious god."

Applebaum studied his wine before taking a drink and raised a finger at her. "I have never said that he was a kind."

He saw the glint in Charlie's eyes that said she was about to spout Epicurus at him. "I would also like to point out that what is all this about 'your God'? I was there for you bat mitzvah, meshungina, I know that He's yours too." He raised his hand as her protest was sure to be forthcoming. "No, don't try denying it. He's got you now."

Charlie twisted her lips in a small smirk at the memory and then turned her attention back to Ethan.

"I'm sorry for prying, I've just never met a Jew before. I mean it's kind of like someone telling me that they're a gypsy …" He stopped that sentence at the raised eyebrow that Charlie was giving him. "Again, sorry." He finished lamely.

I guess there wouldn't be many of us left in 2169.

Oh so you're saying you believe this now?

Not quite yet.

Deborah was not sure what to make of the scans she had taken of Charlotte. First there were the broken bones; they had not been knitted at all. It appeared that they had been set, thankfully they had been set by someone with enough knowledge to set them properly, but the doctor hadn't used a bone knitter so she could still see the scar tissue. Her nose had also taken quite the abuse. It had been broken and re-broken more times than Dr. Wallis cared to count. Then there was the lack of a birth control implant. It was possible that she had refused the device, but it was part the basic healthcare package on Earth. Speaking of healthcare there was also the minor problem of the lack of vitamins in Charlotte's system. It was as if she had never had the puberty vitamin regiment that every human was given on Earth. The most troubling discovery had been the brain scan. The girl had had multiple concussions in the past year alone and none of them had been properly treated, as far she was concerned. They, again thankfully, had not been severe enough for permanent brain damage, but they were indicative of something.

"Systemic long term abuse" Deborah informed her husband, after she called him away from the living room.

"I don't know where she came from or how she got here, but she has not been treated well."

Ethan pondered his wife's revelation. He wasn't surprised, but that didn't make it any less disturbing. Charlotte's cautious way of moving, her distrusting stares, and even her panicked attack in the jungle; they all spoke of fear.

"Are you thinking it was slavers?"

"I can't say for sure. There wasn't any control chip or a scar." Debbie drew a ragged breath, "She could have been a game for those monsters. I can't say for sure, I didn't run a rape kit. I don't want to scare her. Ethan, she had some nasty scars. They, like everything else about her, have not been properly treated. It was like they just stitched her up with thread." She put a hand on Ethan's arm and looked straight up into his eyes, hers were gleaming with fury. "Ethan, no one uses thread anymore."

Ethan gave Debbie's arm a comforting pat. "If it's slavers, then we have to find out what she knows. If they're here …"

Debbie raised her hand at Ethan and put her clinical doctor's face back on, "Ethan, you talked to the girl. I don't think she's going to be able to tell us anything. It might be some form of PTSD and her mind is refusing to admit what happened. I've seen this quite a few times before."

Ethan opened his mouth to protest that it doesn't matter if she's damaged, because they need to know if the slavers are here. Debbie cut in before he could voice the opinion though. "Even if she could tell us, what would that change? We always knew that we were going to be out-manned and out-gunned if we were ever attacked. If, and I honestly do not have a better explanation for it, it is the slavers, there is nothing we can do about it. We already had our trade drop for the year and the Alliance isn't going to do a damn thing for a couple hundred separatists on the fringe of space, you know that better than anyone else.

"The way I see it, our best option is to take this as an advanced warning and shore up our defenses. However that is your call not mine, love."

Ethan rubbed his eyes and looked miserable. Damn the woman, she was right as usual. There wasn't anything he could do about it. Maybe if the girl had some time to realize her safety here, she could heal and then maybe she would tell them what they needed to know. Time, however, was something he wasn't sure they had. He had seen enough broken combat veterans to know that being pushy and demanding they get better, didn't do a damn thing. He exhaled and nodded his head at his wife.

"The others aren't going to like this." He paused then looked back at Debbie, "How old is she?"

"I'm not positive, but she's either fifteen or sixteen."

"Damn, I didn't think she'd be so young."

As it turned out, Ethan's prophetic statements regarding the rest of the colonist's opinion on Charlotte turned to be true. They did not like it. The founding members he spoke with were, putting it mildly, enraged. He understood, but he wasn't sure what the hell they wanted him to do differently. Was he supposed to leave a muddy teenage girl in the jungle? He reminded them all that they had put him in charge of security and if he had not deemed her a security risk, then they had better deal with that. They had then informed Ethan that if she was going to continue staying on Mindoir that she was now his personal responsibility.

In the end, they agreed with his recommendation of beefing up the watches and also informing the rest of the community to be on guard for a possible attack. They didn't want to mention the possibility of it being a slaver attack, because that would definitely panic the civilians. So they left it as just a blanket warning.

So Ethan found himself walking back to his house that afternoon in a grim mood. He was going to have to find some way to deal with the girl. For six years they had called Mindoir home and in those six years there hadn't been any problems. It had been tough to stake a claim here on the planet, both politically and physically. Politically the Alliance had been against the idea. Of course the Alliance was against most the ideas the Sons of Sol toted. The Sons of Sol tried to have their voices heard on Earth. They were against the terrorists acts of other institutions with similar manifestos, but the media lumped them all together nonetheless. All they really wanted was for a little more caution when dealing with the alien races. Shanxi was a disaster and the Sons of Sol definitely wanted the war with the turians to end, but that did not mean that they should trust them either. The Alliance definitely shouldn't trust the rest of the galactic community, who had simply shut their eyes and stuck their fingers in their ears during the war. However that's exactly what the Alliance was doing. The Sons of Sol decided that they had had enough of the bickering and completely useless politics and after years of trying finally got permission to start a small colony on Mindoir. Like everyone else here on Mindoir, Ethan had his own reasons for being here. He had served on Shanxi, he knew the cost of war with the turians and he wasn't convinced that they weren't going to try and finish what they started. They didn't seem like a race that was accustomed to losing and he didn't want his Debbie on Earth when the inevitable war came.

So they came to Mindoir with a small enough group that they hopefully wouldn't be seen as profitable target to the batarians and cut ties to the System Alliance. Six years of hard labor and taming the wild landscape into farmland. Six years of very little trouble, until yesterday. As he approached the house he saw Charlie standing in the small yard staring slack-jawed at the sky. He chuckled softly at the scene, Charlie was completely ignorant of his little girl bouncing around and chattering non-stop at the teenager. Yes, trouble had a name. Charlie.

Purple.

I concur, though it's more of a light lavender, though.

The sky isn't purple though.

Well the Earth sky isn't, though again I must point out that it's more of a lavender.

If the sky isn't Earth's sky, then I must be on a different planet.

Brilliant deduction.

We don't have the technology to get to other planets. There isn't another planet in our solar system that supports life.

Well we didn't back where we came from.

Et tu brute? I thought you were the one who didn't believe in time travel?

Love, I'm just going with the facts and right now a purple sky means that we're on another planet and that means that it's the future, and we might as well believe the pretty doctor and agree it's 2169.

Purple? I thought you said it was lavender.

Shtup ir.

Amusing inner dialogue aside, Charlie couldn't deny it's logic. The purple sky, the dinosaur thing, the magical ointment that made cuts disappear, and Debbie's testimony; she was in her future. As insane as that statement probably made her, it was the truth. It was rather odd that accepting that truth made Charlie feel so much better. It was the kind of relaxing confidence that came from getting to the end of a difficult proof and writing her favorite letters in the English, well Latin if we're being accurate, alphabet; QED.

So when Ethan Wallis walked up to her and motioned for her to follow him, she did so with a slightly lighter spring in her step.

"Do you have any experience with guns?" Ethan asked Charlie after leading her away from the village and towards a small shack that the other colonists, to his annoyance, called the armory.

The question took Charlie by surprise, but she quickly recovered. "No. I mean not really. Well not real guns. Well airsoft doesn't really count, so no. No I haven't."

Ethan glanced back at the girl and raised an eyebrow. "I'll just pretend that you said no."

They reached the shack and Ethan opened the door, belatedly realizing that it was unlocked.

"Dammit James, you had better hope you are in there or I am going to kick your ass when you get back." He growled.

The door swung revealing an empty room.

"Sucks to be James, I guess."

Ethan snapped his head back to glare at Charlie, who took an unconscious step backwards. He sighed and pointed to a chair. She took it, balanced on the its edge, and cast a wary look in Ethan's direction.

"Ok listen up, I'm not good at giving pep talks or being a comforting shoulder. There is really only one thing I am good at and that is keeping this colony safe. It has … come to my attention that it might not be as safe as I would like it to be." He stopped and tried to carefully pick his words so as not to sound accusatory towards Charlie. "You seem like someone who might want to learn to better defend herself. Is that right?"

Charlie wasn't sure what to make of this conversation. On one hand, yes she would like to learn how to defend herself, especially if the incident with the lizard-boar was an indication of her current lack of skills. But where was this coming from? What did Ethan mean with 'you look like someone'? Charlie decided the best thing to do was agree with the man, since that was clearly what he was expecting. So she nodded her head in the affirmative.

Ethan exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Good. I've talked to the ones in charge of the colony and they have agreed to let you stay here. However, I've been volunteered as your … guardian, of sorts. So, here's how it's going to work." He walked over to the other chair and sat down. "Every day you are going to wake up at 0500, make your bed get some food and be out here by 0600, once here I will inform you of the day's activities. These will range from firearm practice, hand-to-hand combat training, wilderness survival, and learning to walk a patrol." He gave Charlie a stern look. "The weapons are never to leave this room unless you are accompanied by me or I have given you express permission. Do I make myself clear?"

"Are you going to put me through boot camp?"

"I asked you a question."

"Oy vey ist mir, you are putting me through boot camp." She gave me a wry grin and a mock salute. "Sir, yes, sir."

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself again that this was a traumatized girl. He took a deep breath. "I know that this is an odd situation, but I'm a soldier and I only know one way to teach someone. So yes, if it helps you to imagine that this a very, very light version of boot camp … fine. Now it's too late to start today. So I'll see you here in the morning."

"Okay."