Collision Course
A/N This fic is set during Biggles' previously unrecorded sojourn with the RAAF in the Torres Strait circa 1942. The 'collision course' is when Biggles encounters members of the 21st Century RAN, inexplicably brought back in time.
For any Sea Patrol fans, these events are set between Seasons Two and Three of the series.
[Of course, I don't own Sea Patrol or any of its characters, nor do I own Biggles, Algy, Ginger, Bertie or any of the 666 boys, nor Raymond. These remain the property of the copyright holder of WE John's estate. I do, however, retain intellectual ownership of the characters Ken Mortensen, Jack Somers, Ted Edgars, Major-General Edgars, members of Ted's family, Tom, Rev Barnes...,]
HMAS Hammersley - Torres Strait, April 2009
Lt Commander Mike Flynn, Commanding Officer of the Armidale Class Royal Australian Naval Patrol Boat, HMAS Hammersley, leant back in the captain's chair and stared at the increasingly turbulent waters ahead. The atmosphere on the Bridge could have been described as more than tense and crewmembers were studiously endeavouring not to attract the attention of either of their commanding officers. Nikki Caetano stole a surreptitious glance at the XO, standing to her left and who was also staring ahead at the unruly waters of Torres Strait. She caught a raised eyebrow from Swain, seated on the CO's far side, but could only offer a miniscule shrug in return. She sighed inwardly. It looked like being a long patrol if this pair maintained another of their infamous 'I can stay quiet longer than you can' battles. The X had been tight-lipped upon the pair's return to the Bridge after the CO's request for 'a word' in his cabin, following her earlier querying of an order and his face positively radiated his displeasure and command persona. Tight-lipped maybe, but the sparks crackling from the XO's green eyes said volumes to all those unfortunate enough to be on Bridge rotation that morning.
"Sir, NavCom have just advised there's some unusual weather patterns forming in this area."
"Thanks, RO," Lt Commander Mike Flynn glanced over his shoulder at his Radio Operator in acknowledgment. "X, prepare the boat and personnel for potential storm," he ordered, staring ahead.
"Yes, sir." Kate efficiently and effortlessly carried out the required procedures, whilst not relinquishing even a centimetre of her perceived moral high ground. When all preparations were underway to her satisfaction, Lt Kate McGregor, Executive Officer of the Hammersley, returned to her post, crossed her arms and continued staring through the forward window as the waters turned as grey as the vessel now tossing around in the storm's increasing fury.
Buffer took a deep breath, "Bit late in the season for this sort of a blow, isn't it, Boss?"
Mike sighed. His crew knew him too damn well. Had come to know Kate just as well also. Pete was offering an honourable way out of a situation that Mike knew he should not have allowed to develop. Whatever his personal dilemma with the woman she was, as always, the consummate professional where her job was concerned. Why did she have such an annoying ability to put him in his place, even when he chewed her out? And why was he always left with the uncomfortable feeling that it was his fault?
"You'd think so, Buff," Mike finally agreed, eyes sliding sideways towards his silent XO. "What's it look like on the screen, Nav?"
"Not good, Boss," Nikki began but a gasp from the hitherto silent X attracted her attention. Kate was staring and pointing ahead.
"What is that?"
Rushing towards them from the west was what appeared to be a horizontal band of flashing lightning, a myriad of colours crackling along its borders. Before anyone could answer her, RO gave a cry and grasped his headset, ripping it from his ears while the entire crew fell to their knees, hands clapped to their ears, and writhing with the agony of a high frequency sound assault.
"X! X! Kate!" The urgency of the voice finally penetrated her fogged senses and Kate pushed herself upright, straight into the dangerously close face of Mike Flynn. She swallowed and edged sideways as she gained her feet. "Are you all right?"
"Yes sir. I'm fine." She returned his stare for several electric seconds before moving her head to look around the Bridge. That was a mistake. Kate's equilibrium spun sickeningly and she staggered. Mike's rock-steady arm stilled her as he called to Swain.
"Check the X out, Swain. She seems a bit the worse for wear." His blue eyes held hers mischievously, knowing full well she would be driven to further fury by his gently patronising tone.
"Don't push it, sir," she muttered under her breath, trying to push away from his steadying arm.
"Did you say something, X?" His brow raised dangerously and she could see his mouth quirking. Damn the man! Why did he always manage to catch her out?
"Nothing, sir. Nothing at all. And I really am fine, thank you," she smiled readily at Swain as he rescued her from the Boss's hold.
"Better check you out, Ma'am," he would no more be side tracked concerning her welfare than would the CO.
"Consider that an order, X," added Mike, staring at her uncompromisingly, back in full command mode.
As she reluctantly followed Swain from the Bridge, Kate heard Buffer's puzzled comment.
"Why's it all calm so quickly? Never seen anything like that before."
"Nav," Mike turned to Nikki, "are we in the eye of the storm?" But the navigator was staring at her screens in mounting concern.
"They're all blank, Boss. We must have lost all our power…"
"No, we've still got some power," interrupted Charge. "The lights are still working and engines don't seem to have been affected."
"Robert, get me NavCom," ordered Mike, staring around his Bridge in puzzlement. "Whatever hit us appears to have wiped out all our satellite connections."
The Radio Operator gingerly picked up the headset.
"Sir, I don't think you should be asking me to use this headset until either ET or I have had a chance to check it out. I could have suffered damage to my hearing and might exacerbate it."
As Robert saw the exaggerated eye rolling from the Bridge crew, he glared around at them.
"What!?" he demanded.
"RO. Just do it. That's not a request," Mike's exasperated tone made even Robert hesitate to continue debating his personal health and with a martyred sigh he donned the offending headset while the CO tried to summon Electronics Technician Josh Holiday to the Bridge. Realising that the boat's internal communication systems seemed to have been rendered unusable, Mike dispatched an Able Seaman to find ET. RO's martyred expression slowly changed to one of bafflement.
"Sir, none of our radio channels appear to be working…" RO's voice became just so much background noise as Mike stared disbelievingly ahead. Indeed all the Bridge crew seemed similarly transfixed. Hurtling towards them were two vintage fighter aircraft each with a rising sun blazoned across its tail. As their unbelievable intent became clear, Mike roared,
"Down! Everyone DOWN!"
The drumming noise of bullets lacing along the deck and the splintering crash of glass as the Bridge window blew apart would live in their memories forever. The attack was as brief as it was vicious and the shaken crew began picking themselves up.
"Nav, check everyone's okay. Buff, what the hell was that!?" Mike's command voice was back. "Where are they?"
"Boss, I think I'm seeing things." Buffer's voice sounded strangled as he pointed upwards through the broken window. "I think those are Spitfires and Zeros," he ended helplessly.
"Sir, is it possible we've stumbled into some war games?" The X's voice came from behind as she re-entered the Bridge with Swain hot on her heels. "And, I'm fine sir," she added, glaring at him briefly, before turning to survey the damage inflicted on the Hammersley. She, too, raised disbelieving eyes to watch the aerial battle unfolding in the sky above them.
Even as they watched, one of the two fighters that had attacked the Patrol Boat plunged seawards, hitting the water with enormous force and vanishing. As they continued watching, the remaining Zero delivered a devastating round of fire along the rear fuselage of the leading Spitfire, and the tail appeared to slowly detach itself and fly straight back into the path of the attacker which erupted into flames and exploded before the watchers' horrified eyes. As the mortally wounded Spitfire rolled and began diving seawards, the pilot flung open the cockpit and dived seawards, his downward spiral finally arrested by the blossoming of his parachute.
"Good grief! What on earth…." whispered Mike shaking his head wonderingly. As quickly as the attack had occurred, it had passed. Watching the stricken pilot's descent, he snapped out of his stupor and back to reality.
"Buffer! Get a RHIB into the water and get that pilot!"
"Sir!" Kate was beside him in two quick strides. "That is my…"
"Not now, X," Mike's voice was uncompromising. "I am not sending a potentially concussed XO on a rescue mission while we have these lunatics and heavens knows what else in the skies."
"Sir. I. Am. Fine." Kate ground out the words, knowing she was rapidly approaching Mike's boundaries regarding insubordination. Why was he the only superior officer who managed to have this effect on her, Princess Perfect, the quintessential career naval officer, who prided herself on her professionalism? She bit her lower lip and reined in her unruly tongue.
"I said, not now!" he snapped back and turned his eyes to watching his sailors preparing the RHIB for its rescue mission. "Supervise their departure, X."
"Yes. Sir." She exited the Bridge, knowing full well that the remaining Bridge crew had heard the interchange and would be cautiously raising eyebrows, yet again, whilst studiously avoiding attracting the Boss's attention.
"And Spider, get this mess cleaned up," he ordered abruptly, gesticulating at the fragmented glass littering the Bridge floor. Spider nodded silently and hurried to obey.
"Away Sea Boat," she yelled as the crane lowered the RHIB. At least some things were still working, she thought. The engines seemed unaffected by the freak storm, just all the electronics and radio equipment had gone. Kate stood watching the RHIB streak towards the man in the water who had released himself from his parachute shrouds and had begun swimming towards his rescuers who soon hauled him aboard and turned back towards Hammersley. As the RHIB was being raised, she felt the familiar prickling along the back of her neck and didn't need to turn to know that Mike Flynn was standing behind her, invading her personal space again. Inhaling deeply, she stepped sideways and turned slightly towards him acknowledging his presence with her look.
"Sir, what do you think has happened?" she asked slowly as she watched the dripping airman step onto the boat deck.
"I don't know, X," returned her CO, just as slowly, also watching the stranger walking towards them.
"Hello. Looks like we came along just in time to lend a hand. Hope none of your crew were hurt?" The airman removed his vintage-looking leather flying helmet and shrugged his way out of his equally antiquated life vest revealing an upright, but slightly boyish figure. Mike found himself looking into a pair of friendly hazel eyes, set beneath fairish hair that flopped across his forehead. A man about his own age, he thought, whose dripping clothes appeared to be some sort of khaki uniform – a short sleeved shirt, with a set of wings sewn above the left breast pocket, was tucked into the waist band of a pair of knee-length khaki shorts, and flying boots squelched around his feet. A man with a distinctly British accent. Mike's eyes were drawn to the two and a half dark blue rings that adorned the shirt's epaulettes. The insignia of an Air Force Squadron Leader – but the uniform was so ancient, looking remarkably like those worn during the Pacific War in World War II. Mike felt his chest constrict as the world spun for one dizzying moment. No. He had to be wrong. Too many science fiction DVDs over the years. He held out his hand.
"I'm Lt Commander Mike Flynn of the Royal Australian Navy. This is my Executive Officer, Lt McGregor." The man shook his hand warmly but his eyes widened in obvious surprise as he turned to Kate.
"A woman! Serving on a naval vessel on active service?" His voice cracked with incredulity. "This must be something new?" There was no mistaking his complete puzzlement as he looked back at Mike with questioning eyes, but he had not missed the sparks that leapt into the woman's green eyes at his comment. Then he smiled apologetically.
"Sorry, you will think me rude. I'm James Bigglesworth, Squadron Leader. I've been seconded to the RAAF to help out for a while." He paused as his speculative gaze took in the boat on which he was now standing, noting not only the sailors' uniforms which were completely unlike any naval attire he'd ever seen, but also at least two other female crew members, one of whom also appeared to have officer's insignia on her epaulettes. His eyes returned to Mike.
"I'm presuming you've been sent to pick up the survivors of the Gunadoo? They'll be very glad to see you."