"If this storm gets any worse, we run the risk of capsizing on this course!" the First Mate calls up to me.

I quickly scan the weather radar, seeing that the intensity of the storm appears to be heavier behind our position, "The worst is behind us Kevin," I shout back over the clap of thunder, "We should be clear of this soon."

Looking out through the windows on the bridge, I'm greeted by my reflection against the black background from the darkness of the North Atlantic Ocean outside. I silently run through my mental checklist once more to make sure I haven't overlooked anything.

Another roll of thunder accompanied by numerous lightning strikes flash across the landscape briefly illuminating the heavy waves in front of the ship disrupting my thoughts. "Adjust three points to port." I instruct the helmsman.

"You see something Captain?" asks the First Mate stepping into the bridge from out on the Starboard wing shaking water from his sandy blonde hair.

"Not sure," I reply, "But it's hard to imagine anyone being crazy enough to be out here in this." I add.

"And yet here we are," muses the helmsman with a grin.

"Well someone had to lose the coin flip," I answer with a smirk, "And I'm sure our colleagues are having just as much fun in the South Atlantic as we are up here Luke."

"Yeah that and someone had to come out here and brave the weather to gather the data the professor is so desperate to get his hands on," Kevin adds.

"One would think that data is the only thing that the professor cares about," Luke points out with a laugh, "I'm yet to see him away from that computer of his in the lab for more than the time it takes to get food from the canteen."

I allow my First Mate and Senior Helmsman continue their banter unchecked. Whilst some might put a stop to the nature of the conversation taking place. I know these two well enough to know that they are only trying to relieve the stress that this latest assignment has placed the entire crew of the Research Vessel Intrepid under.

Since departing the shipyard in San Diego after having a pair of experimental engines installed alongside the traditional single General Motors Diesel the voyage had been one trying exercise after another.

After picking up the professors research team from the facility he had set-up on Midway Atoll and then sailing south through the Panama Canal, through the Caribbean and two tropical storms that knocked out the ships sensor array forcing running repairs until we reached Port Royal where we had a replacement unit delivered and fitted.

My musing is interrupted again by another series of lightning strikes flashing across the night sky. As my eyes readjust to the dimly lit bridge, I once again see my reflection in the glass windows. They show me what the rest of my body is already telling me.

The dark circles under my eyes indicate the lack of sleep I've been able to get over the past four weeks.

"Hey skipper," Luke calls out, "Speaking of research data. Did the nerds we picked up at Midway say earlier how much more data they needed?"

"You are aware that I'm leading this project?" I ask, "It's my theories that we are currently looking into."

"Looks like you put your foot into it again Luke," Kevin chuckles, "Still it'd be nice if we could get work on a beach somewhere rather than chasing storms across the Atlantic."

We continue to sail on through the storm in silence for a few minutes with the crash of waves against the hull and rain lashing the windows on the bridge continuing to roar in our ears. Another flash of lightning before our path shows the height of the waves easing.

A crash of thunder roars out followed by silence. "Is it over?" queries Luke.

"Hardly," I reply scanning the weather radar once more, "It looks like we are in the middle of the storm though."

"So, you're saying we just sailed through a hurricane!" Luke exclaims, "That's sheer madness!"

"Take a look at that radar scan," I point out, "Does that look like a hurricane to you?"

Before either my first mate or helmsman can reply another flash of light outside the bridge draws my attention, this one different from the previous. "What was that?" the Kevin cries out in shock.

Before I can reply, another streak of light flashes across my vision outside. I bolt for the door to the Port Wing grabbing a pair of binoculars from their hook by the door on my way out. Raising the glasses to my eyes I scan the ocean ahead of the ship.

A third flash of light lances out of the night sky, this one also different from the previous two with a goldish tinge to it.

"Captain, contact on radar bearing dead ahead!" Kevin calls out to me.

"All Stop!" I shout back over the increasing wind.

I feel the ship wash off speed and slow to a stop as I continue to scan the ocean. "The sensors indicate that the contact ahead of us is approximately two hundred and fifty meters in length and is just over fifty thousand tons." Kevin reports as he joins me on the wing.

"Surely the radar should have picked something that size up earlier?" I query.

"Maybe the weather is interfering with the sensors," replies Kevin shrugging his shoulders, "They've not exactly been working as we expected after that tropical storm damaged the main sensor array."

"I doubt it," I reply, "We replaced the damaged array with an upgraded one that has been tested and rated to withstand a Category 5 hurricane. Still I'll have the engineering team look at it when the weather clears."

We continue to scan the ocean for a few minutes in silence, "So where is this ship?" Kevin calls out in frustration, "A 50-thousand-ton ship shouldn't be too hard to see right in front of us. Even in this weather."

"Well it's no longer in front of us," Luke answers from within the bridge, "Radar now shows the contact is behind us."

Without a word I turn to the ladder and quickly descend to the deck before racing to the stern, making my way past one of the lifeboats and the deep-sea scanners tightly secured to their racks. As I step out past the final scanner onto the open deck used to launch and retrieve the various scanners and submersibles, a quick look shows that there is still nothing to be seen.

I reach the stern rail and once more raise the binoculars to my eyes and scan the horizon for any sign of the target being picked up on radar. Once more I fail to see any trace of a ship that might be nearby, I do however notice floating just behind the ship a pair of purple glowing cubes.

Putting aside my search for the mystery ship, I spot the fishing gear that some of the crew use during downtime which somehow had managed to not be washed overboard in the storm, quickly grabbing one of the nets I lean out over the rail to carefully scoop the two cubes out of the water.

After placing the cubes in my coat pocket, I turn to look towards the bridge raising one of the portable radios to my mouth, "Is the radar contact still behind us, or has it moved again?"

After a brief pause the Helmsman replies, "The contact should be right behind us, radar shows the gap to be less than 30 meters."

I turn to look back behind to once more see nothing but open ocean, "There's nothing back here," I answer, "Clearly we're chasing shadows here."

"Hold on," the First Mates calls out, "I'll turn on the search lights."

As I wait for the First Mate to get the search lights turned on, I take one of the cubes out of my coat pocket and slowly rotate it in my hands. The cube still emits a soft purple glow and is cool to the touch. "What on earth are you?" I wonder.

As the ships search lights finally come to life, I return the strange cube to a coat pocket and turn back to look out over the stern.

As I look up, I find myself staring down the barrel of a large gun turret. With mild surprise etched on my face I peer around the end of the barrel to see a tall blonde woman wearing a figure-hugging black dress along with a black winter coat with red lining. This is accompanied by a black naval style cap similar to what the officers wear for formal events.

None of this truly registers with me at first however as I'm more taken in and curious about the accessories she seems to be wearing without a care. These include not only the gun barrel still pointed directing in my face but a second positioned next to it. On further inspection I see three more sets of gun turrets, all of which are pointing in my direction.

After a brief moment I regain my voice, "Can I help you with something miss?"

"You're English," the woman replies narrowing her eyes as she speaks.

Sensing one wrong move could see not only myself blown to pieces but also my ship and the rest of the crew I hastily reply, "Hah ha. No. I'm actually Australian, but I can see where you might mistake that for being English."

Seeing that my attempt to lighten the mood has fallen short I continue, "Also this is an American registered ship," I finish indicating the American pennant flying in the breeze from the flag staff at the stern rail.

"Makes no difference, the woman responds coldly, "You're still my enemies."

My eyes widen at this answer, "Are you serious? This is a research ship. Just who are we supposed to be fighting?"

"England are opposed to Germany," the woman begins, "Australia are allied to England and America are aiding England with convoy ships of supplies and weapons."

"That all ended in 1945!" I called out over the increasing wind, "Whatever fight it is you seem to think you're in finished over seventy years ago."

The woman looks at me with a serious expression trying to gauge if I'm being honest, "Why should I believe you?" she finally asks.

"All ships have a plaque to commemorate their launch," I begin, "This research ship is no different, the Intrepid was launched in 2016. And the plaque to signify that is right there mounted on the wall next to the cargo loading door."

Without taking either her eyes off me or lowering her aim the woman steps over to the framed plaque I pointed out and quickly scans the inscription. A moment passes silently before I sense a change in the atmosphere.

Then without warning the woman lowers the guns pointed at me and asks, "So what happened after I sunk?"

"So-Sorry could you repeat that?" I stutter, "I think I may have misheard you when you say you sunk."

"No, you heard me right," the woman replies sadly, "I was sunk in this location in 1941."

"Okay then," I answer trying to process what I've just heard, "Without knowing who you are though, I don't know where to start answering that."

The woman turns to look at me coldly, "Surely you've heard of the mighty battleship Bismarck."

"Nearly everyone knows about the Bismarck," I reply, "And although I've not seen any facts to either prove or disprove what I'm about to say. I've never heard of either the Germans or the English having women serve on board their ships. Especially in times of war."

A slight smile crosses the woman's mouth, "I can attest to the fact that no women served in active duty aboard German warships. And I'm not saying that I'm a crew member from Bismarck. I'm telling you that I am Bismarck."


"So, you're saying that she appeared out of nowhere?" asks Kevin.

I take my time in replying to his question. It had been an eventful half an hour out on the loading deck. First trying to answer as many questions as I could from my limited recollection of the events of World War II, and then convincing the strange woman that not only was the war over but that Germany was largely at peace with the world after the events that took place in the 1940's.

It was mainly the promise of allowing her to read through the on-board archives on the ship's computers for more detailed information and reports from the great war that allowed me to return to the bridge after showing her to my cabin and starting up the computer within.

That was followed by a very brief introduction into how a computer worked, which was a lot less painful than convincing her that no amount of manipulation was going to increase the size of the hatchways and corridors of the Intrepid meaning that she would have to leave the guns and other accessories either on the loading deck or allow us to store them in the cargo hold.

"I know it sounds crazy," I finally reply, "Before the lights came on there was nothing out there to see aside from these cubes." I indicate pointing to the two cubes sitting on the chart table still emitting a soft purple glow between us. "After the lights came on, she was right there on the loading deck behind me aiming those large guns in my direction."

"Well the on-board cameras seem to confirm what you say," answers one of the researchers who had joined us on the bridge, "It would appear as though she simply materialized out of thin air."

"Have we checked the cameras to ensure that they were recording the entire time?" I ask.

"The team are working on that right now," the researcher replies, "It might take a while to verify that for you though."

"Surely there are more important questions that need answering, what about her claim that she is the Bismarck?" presses Kevin.

"Hard to judge at this point, without knowing more about her and how she came to be out in the middle of the Atlantic with no sign of any ship in the area." I reply.

"And about that," Kevin says turning his attention to the Luke, "Where did that 50-thousand-ton radar contact disappear too?"

"You're guess is as good as mine," Luke replies, "We've double checked the logs and the triple checked the equipment and everything points to a pair of readings that indicate a large ship appearing ahead of our position. Then vanishing from radar only to reappear moments later behind us only to once again vanish around the time the Captain encountered the woman on the loading deck."

I allow the others to talk amongst themselves while I flip through the photos printed off from the screen captures of the onboard cameras. Pausing when I reach one of the enhanced images, I quickly type in a search request on the laptop next to me.

Finding the image online I'm looking for I turn the screen to face the others, "Tell me what you see here on the screen?" I ask.

"That's a photo from the Royal Navy archives of the KMS Bismarck," the Luke replies.

"Okay and tell me what similarities do you see in these two pictures?" I press on holding the photo in my hand close to the laptop screen.

"Are you insane?" asks Kevin, "There's nothing even close to similar in either picture."

The researcher however takes a closer look at the two images, "Unless it's a trick on my eyes from the blurry outline in this picture," he begins pointing to the photo in my hand, "It appears as though the gun turrets are identical."

"And we have those very guns currently secured in the cargo hold so we can verify that very easily," I answer, "That should help to give us some idea of what we dealing with."

Before anyone can reply one of the radio operators' steps onto the bridge carrying one of the ships satellite phones, "You've got a call from the captain of the Global Explorer sir."

Taking the phone from the sailor I answer, "How's the weather down there Jim?"

'Typical English summers day,' Jim replies.

"So, it's raining then," I retort back with a laugh.

'Hasn't stopped since we got here,' Jim acknowledges, 'But that's not why I called.'

I listen to the report Jim gives me detailing their seven-day field trip. It's almost a mirror to our own first week. Then Jim pauses for a moment. I can tell that he's unsure how to tell me whatever it is that he has to say next, "Just say it Jim. After the night I've had nothing will surprise me anymore."

'Well there was a major storm last night,' Jim begins, 'Then around midnight it went dead calm. And that's when she appeared.'

"Who appeared?" I ask thinking to myself that surely the events of last night on the Intrepid couldn't possibly have happened elsewhere.

'Well that's the weird part,' Jim says.

Before he can continue, I interrupt, "Hold on a second. Let me ask a couple of quick questions. Before this girl appeared did you get a sudden radar contact?"

Hearing my words, the others on the bridge stopped talking and looked in my direction.

'Yeah,' acknowledged Jim, 'But how did you know?'

"Call it an educated guess," I reply, "So tell me who is it and who do they claim to be?"

'Like I said,' Jim starts, 'That's the weird part. She says that her name is Admiral Graf Spee.'

"Let me have another guess," I say, "She also says that she is the Admiral Graf Spee?"

'Well yeah,' replies Jim, 'Another educated guess?'

"Not quite Jim," I reply, "We had an almost identical encounter last night. However, our guest claims that she's the Bismarck."

'Well the question is what do we do next?' Jim asks after a pause to take in what I've just said.

"Well I'm going to start preparing the Intrepid for return back to Midway," I explain, "We have too many new questions that need answers now. And the professor will certainly be interested in this."

'Sounds like a solid plan,' Jim agrees.

"Just make sure you let your guest know that they don't have to tag along," I point out, "If they want to leave, then let them. I'll be doing the same here. Also, I'll send you some of the camera stills from our ship. If you can ask if your guest knows mine that might help to answer some of our questions."

After Jim agrees to do this and follows up by saying that he'll forward what information he has to me I hang up the phone. "Well you heard me," I say to the others in the room, "Start getting us underway back home."

Flipping the laptop back around to face me, I quickly compose the email to Jim and attach not only the still shots captured from the cameras but also the video files. As I hit send the email alert chime rings out. Opening the email, I see a single sentence, 'Sorry about the lack of details. This was the only clean image we could get.'

Opening the attachment, I see a long-range image which appears to be from one of the radar cameras. Within the photo I can make out enough details to see that the girl has short white hair and is wearing a red scarf which covers the lower portion of her face. The only other major details that can be clearly seen are two sets of large caliber gun barrels set in a triple formation and on closer inspection appeared to be a long black tail similar to that of a shark.

Wondering to myself just what had gone on in the Atlantic over the past twelve hours, I hit print on the image sending a Wi-Fi request to the printer in my cabin, I close down the laptop and stand up, "I'm going to inform our guest of the plans and see if she'll be joining us." Without waiting for a reply, I pick up the two cubes from the desk and exit the bridge to head to my cabin.

On reaching the door to my cabin I see it's wide open, looking in I see that Bismarck is still scanning through one of the archive files. Knocking on the door frame to announce my presence I step in, "You find answers to some of your questions?" I ask.

"A few," she replies looking up from the screen, "And judging from your expression you have a couple of questions now."

"Yeah a couple but they can wait for a moment," I acknowledge, "Firstly I need to tell you that we are going to be heading home today. The events of last night have left us with far more important questions we need to find answers to, and we need some of the equipment back in our lab to run those tests."

"Why would a ship's captain worry about lab tests?" Bismarck asks, "Surely your place is out at sea."

"Well I'm not just a captain," I admit, "I'm also a theoretical researcher. Basically, I come up with theories on how to find the answer, then we run the tests and see what happens. Being a qualified captain is a bonus as it allows me to control the tests with greater accuracy."

"I guess I'm to become one of our experiments then?" Bismarck queries with a growl.

"Not quite," I answer, "We'd like you to come along so we can learn what exactly is going on. But you're free to refuse. We can drop you off at a port along the way home if that's what you want."

After a moment of thought Bismarck replies, "I'll come with you. There is much I need to catch up on, so as long as you can provide the knowledge I'm looking for, then we have an agreement."

"Sounds fair to me," I say, "Now as we are helping each other. I'm hoping you can answer two questions I have."

I remove the two purple glowing cubes from my pocket and place them on the desk, "Firstly, if you know. Can you tell me what these are? I fished them out of the water moments before we met."

Bismarck picks up one of the cubes and carefully inspects it from a number of angles, "These feel familiar. But as to what they are I have no idea." She finally replies placing the cube back next to the other one.

"Okay then," I answer, "The second thing is a bit hard to explain. Even I'm struggling to understand this myself."

As I speak I go over to the printer and remove the sheet from the out tray, "As I explained last night we are a research ship," I continue, "We have a second ship which is operating in the South Atlantic doing the same research as we are here in the north."

Bismarck looks at me intently as I explain this.

"Last night they had a similar encounter as we did here," I say passing the sheet of paper to Bismarck, "And I'm wondering if you recognize the person in this photo."

Taking the photo from me Bismarck studies is just as closely as she did with the cube earlier. Eventually, she hands the photo back to me, "Can't say that I do," she answers, "But what makes you think I'd know her?"

"As you said to me last night. You say that you are the Bismarck," I state, "I know I've already shown you the reports and documentaries we have access to on board about the Bismarck from World War II and there are more archives back at our research lab you are welcome to read through as well. But having read and seen what you have so far do you still feel as though you are the battleship Bismarck?"

Without hesitation she replies, "Yes. I know it to be true despite what I've seen and read since coming on board. But what does that have to do with the girl in the photo?"

"Like you, she also claims to be something else," I explain, "She told the captain of the Global Explorer which is our other ship, that she is the Admiral Graf Spee. And if the both of you are to be believed and assuming its true and not a trick of your minds that means that overnight two of the most famous German warships from the Second World War have not only returned to surface after having both been sunk after naval engagements in 1939 and 1941 respectively but have also been transformed from steel warships into human form somehow."