A/N: This is a little detour I'm taking, while I work out the plot for my other story, Invincibility. Just in case anyone was confused last time, the words in italics are the thoughts of the character whose point of view is being told. Bold words have emphasis on them.

Also, I know there are several stories out there about female OCs, like ecto1B's "Queen", and this won't exactly be a new concept, but I have a pretty good idea for a plot-line, and I am going to try to make it work. If you don't like, don't read, and please don't waste review text bitching about it. Or I'll send Ramirez after you.

Fire: Chapter One

Arrival:

Private Enya Clarke lay curled in the back of the Pave Low, staring at the dark metal interior. Her slim, pale figure shivered slightly, not out of cold, but out of fear, for she was stepping way out of her element. A former member of the Canadian Forces, Enya had been chosen out of a few dozen soldiers, after running an intense trial course. After coming out of the test at the very top, Enya had gone back to the barracks to rest, only to be called out to answer the phone.

"Congratulations, Private Clarke. You passed the trial with the highest score. I am sending a transport to meet you in one hour for briefing. Do not be late."

Excuse me, but, what?

A voice sounded over the intercom, saying that they would soon be landing at Fire Base Phoenix, a Ranger base, where Task Force 141 was temporarily staying. She suppressed another shudder of fear, instead curling up into a tighter ball, trying to get a handle on her racing thoughts.

Calm down, Enya. You were the best sniper in your regiment, you should have seen a promotion coming. Nothing like this, of course, but a promotion nonetheless. Relax.

Before Enya could collect herself any further, she felt the Pave Low begin its descent, and she stood, using a nearby seat to keep her balance, as the Pave Low touched down.

The ramp began to drop, sending gusts of wind from the propellers into the helicopter. Cursing under her breath, Enya pulled an elastic from her wrist, and gently tugged her short, deep brown hair off of her face. A blast of sunlight penetrated the darkness of the Pave Low, and Enya slipped her sunglasses over the bright green eyes to compensate. As soon as the ramp lowered, Enya stepped out of the helicopter, and step by step, walked towards her new world.

Another A/N: This is basically an introduction for the character, Enya. I have decided on a call-sign for her, but I want to dedicate a chapter to her being given her call-sign. For any impatient readers, just look up her name in a name dictionary. That is part of the idea for her call-sign.

Clarke is a shout-out to an old friend, and E.A. of mine, who I haven't seen in years. I miss you, Mr. Clarke! Reviews are loved, so go for it!