AN: I haven't uploaded on Sea Patrol before - it's sort of a recent obsession - and I thought, seeing as this chapter was up somewhere else since yesterday, I'd dump it here too. =).

This is a bit of an experiment in Character Development. A hobby of mine. Also, this story can be blamed on my mum, who had a sudden mental image when I mentioned - offhand - that I was creating a character who was trained in combat. O.o. I got a little carried away.

There's a few new (slightly crazy) characters to wrap your heads around, so I really hope you give it a go.

Who the heck were these guys? And what were they doing in the shrub land, away from the town?

The petite, slender woman was hidden in the swaying leaves of one of the many trees in the shrub land. The wooded area encroached on the small town on the island, making the terrain rough and natural; useful for ambush and secrecy. The woman – Denni, or Crash – in the topmost branches of this tree was in her late twenties. A long sheet of straight, dark hair had been pulled into a high ponytail, leaving a partially grown out fringe trailing in brilliant blue eyes.

She watched the group of six move deftly across the open spaces in tight formation and her instincts began hammering at her mind.

"Roach, talk to me," Denni said into her radio, slowly slinking down the tree with all the agility of a monkey; childhood hobbies did have their uses.

"All the usual appreciation for navy protocol, I hear," Roach's voice crackled back.

Denni shot a look through the tree canopy but she didn't need to worry yet; the team were still too far off to hear.

"You know me," she said lightly, smiling.

"What can I do, Crash?"

"You seen any suspicious behaviour in town in the last couple of hours?...Over," she added wryly, rolling her eyes.

"Can't say I have. Anything in particular? And you said over – we should celebrate."

Denni shook her head, smiling. "Any excuse to break open a bottle, right? To answer the second, I'm in the shrub land and there's a team out here. They look like they're part of a planned attack."

"They stand out?"

"Here? Sure," Denni answered, creeping down another couple of branches. "Move like they've been trained, all armed – just handguns though. Clearly premeditated."

"Pistols?"

"Not exactly uncommon, I know," Denni acquiesced. "Browning or glock, at a guess. But they're in civvies, I haven't seen any code and they're definitely not out for a Sunday hike."

"Give me your location; I'll fetch Banjo. And it's Thursday."

"Don't remind me," Denni groaned - but not into the radio - crouching on a low branch where she could see the group move out, dispersing in twos through the trees. She had to receive weekly updates from command that were less than enjoyable. "I'm on the northeast side, just up hill from the old shack by the split in the track. Follow it."

"If I say don't engage, would that be a waste of breath?"

"Probably," Denni answered, lowering her voice as someone reappeared a short distance off. "Cutting out now, Roach."

She knew he wouldn't be best pleased, but the reason they had been tasked with this ongoing mission was because of their training – among other things. Denni looked fragile, and compared to some of the guys below, she probably was – but that would only be an issue if they could catch her…and therein lay their unforeseen problem.

She clipped the small radio unit – now unresponsive – to the strap of her top and slunk carefully through the branches, tracking the people below that cropped up and logging the details she could.

A small blonde woman, older than Denni, with a fierce expression was moving with a tall blonde man who moved with precision and confidence…of those two, he was the one to watch out for. Another pair consisted of a large man wearing an intent expression and a well built woman with copper-red hair, who moved carefully and slowly. Of those two…the woman. The man's bulk would slow him, and her cautiousness would make her more alert.

Denni stilled in the tree, tracking the last two. A dark haired man was cringing as he worked through low hanging branches; his shorter partner with spiked blonde hair was letting his guard down in amusement. Easy pickings – if she was careful.

"Watch yourself." Denni heard behind her. She turned, holding onto the branch and spreading her stance to keep perfectly still. She'd gone ashore with Roach and Timber for some r and r, but due to incidents in the past had been wearing her combat boots, fraying, cut off shorts and a sensible camisole anyway. At least she knew she wouldn't be hampered.

The warning had come from the tall blonde guy who she had deemed one of the larger dangers – and not because of his height. Though he didn't seem to be in charge, there was little doubt he was near the top of the chain. His confidence and movement, along with the toned muscle beneath the red t-shirt, suggested he wasn't likely to be taken down easily.

Denni frowned as she watched him move toward her hiding place, while the blonde woman he had been with crept past her. Why split up? Did she care? It had provided her with a chance that could not have been more perfect.

He moved directly underneath her tree and Denni drew in a breath silently as she flexed her fingers and locked them around the branch, trusting its ability to hold her weight a little longer. She waited, knowing her 5'4" height well enough to give herself the best chance. He moved under the tree and continued directly on the same path.

She pitched forward, and muscle memory had her grip changing without her mind's input. She swung in an arc around the branch, stretching out to keep aerodynamics on her side. Her momentum carried her as far as it could and she twisted her legs, bending them at the knee and locking the ankles tightly around the guy's neck.

There was no warning for him, and the browning pistol fell from his grip as his hands leapt up to her calves, digging against the supple leather in a desperate attempt to dislodge her. The gun landed in a patch of undergrowth around the base of the tree, making barely a sound. Denni locked her arms over the branch, using it as leverage to tighten her legs over the man's airway. He gasped for air, hands trying to unlock her ankles and very slightly, she felt the smallest break in his strength.

It wasn't like a muscle snapping, or the crack of a whip, it was something more like a sixth sense; a feeling. She was succeeding, and for that, she felt Roach's bottle of beer would be welcome…but there was a darker side to the equation. Her strength would soon fail too, and she knew he was far from broken. In a match of sheer strength – even with him as he was – she had no chance.

She made to renew her grip on the branch, but as her fingers dislodged, she was yanked forward. The powerfully built man pitched, and at first she was shocked, sure he was not that incapacitated. It was as they both hit the grass that she realised she was right; he had done it on purpose.

She felt a flare of fire race up her thigh, and realised her knee had hit the ground at an angle, and was trapped. The hand that had desperately been trying to fight her off was now locked around her ankle.

Acting on instinct, she kicked out with her other leg, which had worked loose, and she found herself free as he let go to avoid a concussion.

She swung to her feet, at the same time his voice yelled out, "X!"

The previously deep timbre was now a rasp, and she realised that he was more disoriented than her – at least her oxygen supply hadn't been…compromised.

She seized the opportunity, lashing out again, only just remembering to stand on the leg that hadn't taken a beating. He blocked her, but only just, and Denni had darted out of the way before he could try to disable her again. She noticed him clutch at his throat but the next second a blur on her right had her spinning with a roundhouse kick.

This time it was the wrong leg.

The kick impacted, and she barely saw the dark haired man leap backwards, flailing an arm with a dramatic exclamation of pain before she hit the ground on her back, her leg buckling beneath her. She heard the gun he'd been raising hit the grass a small distance off.

Biting down on her lip against the flare of pain, Denni moved to get to her feet.

"Stay down!"

A flicker of recognition made her pause as she looked up at the blonde woman, now wearing a look that was just as scared as it had been fierce. The words were somehow familiar. The short blonde man was there too and others seemed to be approaching, based on the calls and rustling in the surrounding trees. Denni glared up at her as she twisted her leg around. Three pistols raised themselves and she snorted, despite realising it probably wasn't smart. Oh, well…Roach always said her attitude would get her killed, and he did so love to be right.

The warm metal of the butterfly knife tucked against her calf reminded her that their fears could have been founded. "Don't worry; if you think I'm going to draw a knife against guns, then you're more stupid than me."

No one moved, and Denni carefully assessed her leg. If there was long term damage, she wanted to know before she was taken hostage on a pirate or rebel ship.

"Get away from her!"

Denni rolled her eyes, and was sure the groan she let out was audible as she heard Roach's voice. She glanced around and sure enough, he was jogging toward them with an assault rifle.

"Crash, I told you not to engage," He puffed, slowing as he got close, and keeping a keen eye on the pistol in the blonde woman's hand that had moved to him.

Denni shook her head, tentatively pressing down on the earth with her leg. No pain, but it wasn't exactly all her weight. "Nope, you said it would be a waste of breath."

She could feel him roll his eyes and the blonde woman slowly held her gun to the side.

"Sir, would you please lower your weapon. I think we can talk this through."

"You dead, Crash?" Roach asked, ignoring the older woman. In other words, Denni mentally translated, how bad are you hurt?

"And buried," she said dryly. Passing injury.

He nodded, and with a sharp look around, set the assault rifle down.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the blonde woman asked. Apparently she was in charge.

"What are we doing here?" Roach asked, incredulous.

"Take it easy, Roach," Denni said, turning to shoot him a warning look. So far, they were willing to ask first, shoot later; they didn't need to make this worse.

"Roach?" short blondie asked, smirking again.

"Can I stand up?" Denni asked, thinking this would be a whole lot easier with names. A long moment passed. "I'm not armed," she offered.

"I don't really think you need to be," the quiet voice came from her left. Denni shot the tall guy a glance, noticing his throat looked a little red, but his voice seemed a little better. He was looking at her intently, expression infallible. Denni got the impression he wasn't sure what to make of her, so she glared directly back for a moment, before turning away in dismissal, just as a flicker of emotion broke through.

"I promise not to kick anyone."

After a moment, she got a nod from miss-in-charge.

Slowly, she stood up.

"You could have been seriously injured," miss-in-charge began, adopting a lecture voice that Denni had heard far too much in command. She rolled her eyes.

"Sure, but in the interest of looking out for all round good health, so could you."

The dark haired man raised a limp wrist pointedly at Denni's words. "Actually, someone was."

Denni bit down on a smirk this time. Drama queen. "Okay, so because this is clearly not a normal hostage situation, let me start with I'm sorry for spraining your wrist and…" she turned to face the taller man. "for trying to choke you. It doesn't change what's happening here and that I can't let you get away with it."

"Who are you to stop us?"

The voice came from behind. Denni shot a look back at Roach, only just realising that the rest of the team had gathered around them. "Okay, I really need names." Another moment passed. "I'm Crash, he's Roach."

"As in Cockroach?" short blondie asked.

"Yeah," Denni said flatly, shooting him a glare.

Miss-in-charge cleared her throat. "I'm X, you…hmm, attacked Dutchy, and disarmed Ro, over there. This is 2dads." Short blondie had a name. "Bomber and Charge."

"Annnd Timber…" Denni groaned, spotting the young officer held between the two newcomers. "What happened to Banjo?"

"Took a dive," Roach offered, succinctly. He meant that literally.

"So you brought the trainee to the hostage situation?" Denni had always dealt with such scrapes by making light, but she was surprised by the shock in 'X's face.

"What do you mean 'hostage situation'?"

Denni raised an eyebrow. "Okay…I tried to knock out one of your…brigade…and made a declaration that I was going to find a way to stop you, and you're going to let me walk? You're really bad pirates."

'Dutchy' chuckled behind her, and Denni turned to face him just as he began coughing instead. All this turning about was sending her around the bend – why was she in the middle of the circle? Oh yeah, she was a loose Cannon.

"Miss, we're not pirates," X said slowly. "We're from the Australian war ship, HMAS Hammersley. We're with the Navy."

Denni sighed, "Oh, thank god." Wait…the navy with a sodding great big ship in the port where they were supposed to be cracking the ring on the DL? "Oh, bugger."

"Pardon?" X asked, looking faintly affronted.

With a dramatic sigh, Denni tugged her dog tags from inside her top, now plastered to her slender form from the exertion and heat. "We're navy, too."

Everyone seemed to sag with relief. The guns all lowered and Charge and Bomber moved to them. Timber was left without the escort. Roach moved in, smirking as he dropped to the ground with the assault rifle. He would be the one to think it hilarious that two navy teams had been at a stalemate.

"One word out of your mouth, Roach, and I'm hiding the keg for a month."

Abruptly he closed his mouth - so fast that his jaw clicked. Denni cringed.

"We're the only war boat in harbour," Charge said, once 2dads had finished sniggering. "What's going on if you haven't been posted?"

"We're kind of a guinea pig branch," Roach offered, shooting Denni a wary glance. "Reclusive…I guess you could say we're undercover."

"Special Ops," Timber offered up. Denni turned to the tree she'd dropped from not too long ago and, with tightly folded arms, kicked it violently. Dutchy flinched away from it. She ignored the shudder that ran up her injured leg.

Roach slapped Timber upside the head. "We've talked about this, T. Why is it 'Special'?"

"Because no one knows," the young man answered, reciting not unlike a toddler learning the alphabet. "I'm not four, Roach."

"Don't wind him up," Denni muttered, knowing a bickering match was about to start. Again.

"Well," X said. "I expect what we were looking for is long done by now. We have a swain who could take a look at your leg, and I think this should be taken to the CO…if we have to work together."

"Together?" Roach demanded. "No. No, 'together'. You have to-"

"Roach, put a sock in it, or I'll have Timber put his in."

Roach fell quiet again, shooting the smaller woman a dark look.

"I don't need a doctor, but this should be discussed…" she glanced at Roach. "Diplomatically, with your CO."

"Shall we?" X asked, heading off. The crew threw glances around as they followed on, Denni, Roach and Timber in their midst.

Denni's scowl darkened every few yards as the ache through her leg grew more pronounced. "Timber, head onto the boat and get Banjo. I don't care how. Feed him the cliff-note version."

Timber nodded and took off at a run while Roach hung back, used to being the tail of a party. It aligned him with Charge, and they fell into conversation.

"Looks like quite a traumatic injury, Miss. Want me to carry you?"

Denni shot a look over at 2dads, smiling up at her with mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Don't call me 'miss', and if you even think about trying to carry me, you'll be the one with the traumatic injury. Understood?"

"Loud and clear…ma'am," he saluted cheekily and moved ahead, falling into step with Bomber and Ro.

Denni snickered, shaking her head at him; he seemed like fun.

"I don't think you quite scared him."

"And I think you should refrain from talking for another twelve hours," Denni answered, looking up at Dutchy, now walking next to her. Looking up at the guy now, she acknowledged she probably couldn't have hoped for more damage. Lean as he was, he was made out of muscle – though the smile was infectious. "You're sounding rough again."

"I think I'm lucky it's just going to bruise," he replied. They both glanced ahead at Ro – entire arm in a sling that Bomber had just finished crafting for him.

"He's a drama queen, isn't he?" Denni asked absently.

"Oh, completely," Dutchy smiled. A second later, he was rubbing his throat again.

You'll make it worse, she thought, but did not comment. Let him work that out himself.

"You'll never hear the end of it, you know."

"What?" Denni asked, taking her eyes away from the small stretch of shingle beach she could see on the far side of the island.

"Ro's wrist. He'll still be suffering in a month."

"If it makes him feel better, I can tell him my leg still hurts in a month."

Dutchy glanced down at the damaged knee, and Denni realised she was limping to accommodate it. A few steps passed and he looked away again without comment. Smart man.

"But it would be a lie," Dutchy said, conversationally.

Denni shrugged as they reached the town again. "I don't hurt long. But if you want, we can try for a fair fight one day."

"Should be interesting." X was coordinating the group ahead to get to the ship, and Dutchy offered a smile to her. "Later, Crash."

"I really am sorry." She offered instead, going to fetch Roach. This meeting hadn't been the smoothest of meetings, but the next could easily go just as bad. One of them was going to have to leave.

AN: So...Hopefully the lack of names at the beginning wasn't too confusing. There's a couple more scenes already written (and I have plans to bring someone back...;D). I can't promise much because in addition to having the attention span of a goldfish, I have no idea where this is heading (if anywhere). My almost finished Original fic should be taking priority - after uni, of course ¬¬ - but hopefully what I have written can be up soonish.

Lastly, feedback would be great, as I've not written for this universe yet. Also any opinions or wishes regarding developing relationships, plot ideas or returning characters would be really great. Would you like any disasters? romantic pairings? Ideas and thoughts used can be credited where possible.