## still more to come but this looks good enought to be posted ##

The Daring was a big ship, she was 350 meters from aft to fwd and 57 meters at her widest point, she carried over six and half thousand men and women, including over 600 Ships Soldiers of the Australian Army. She was also carrying another 2000 assorted Americans and Britains who where dogging their Australian counterparts learning everything they could about this new class of carrier before their own navies commissioned theirs. She carried the latest in Military Intelligences, the first true MI created since the time shift, her processing and cognitive power far suppressing the other ships LMI’s or Limited Military Intelligences. Madam as the voice of the ships MI had become known, as also showed a new ability that the even Up Timers where surprised to see she was able to network the LMI’s through her into a massive battle net in near realtime anywhere within her sphere of operation, this turned the whole fleet and all of its assets into a massive fire defence base and impregnable fortress of steel and iron will 5 kilometres across.

She was never alone, she traveled always with her air deference destroyers, and they with their attendant frigates, the old girl of the fleet, the ageing workhorse, the USS Indomitable lay always close at hand. Close to 14 thousand men and women all working as one harmonious machine to put the Daring in place to do what it was meant to do launch its birds and make the PDRJ(People Democratic Republic of Japan) and the USSR(United Soviet Socialist Republics) think twice about creating any trouble south of the parallel.

It was this vibrancy and passion the soul of the fleet that Rigsby tuned into as moved through the labyrinthine interior of the ship, sailors and soldiers scuttled out of his way as soon as they saw him bracing to attention as he passed, salutes neglected by the necessity of operational tempo, but firm respect in their eyes. Command Control and Communications, called battle control, for the fleet was situated near enough to the centre of the boat for it to be called the ships heart. It was so in more ways than one, it was from here that the Captain relayed the admirals orders the CAG controlled the air group. It was built on top of the main datacentre which housed the majority of MI’s processing power, and it was from here also that the Admiral stationed his flag. Keeping that in mind Rigsby picked up his pace and turned the last corner to the fwd entrance to the Battle Centre, the alert guards, knowing full well who he was watched him with hawk like intercity as he entered his admittance code to the hatch control, it whispered open and he entered the barely controlled chaos of the Battle Centre

“Captain on Deck” yelled out Crew Chief Frellman the broad faced thickly muscled Chief, was a legend in the service and the crew quickly snapped to attention not wanting to earn the ire of the Sausage Chief no that he’d been able to find anyone willing or able to tell him where that name came from. He nodded quickly and the crew returned to posts, as he walked over to the CAG in section of the centre conditioned to Flight Opps,

“CAG, you can launch your Recon Flight now. Where on course and ready for border patrol route”
“Thank you Sir I’ve launched the second birds eye already, but was waiting for your say till i got the birds up”

**Wings**
1989
40 Years after transition
The North Pacific Ocean, 100 Kilometers East of Yokohama.
HMAS Daring – AustNPacFleet

Captain Tom Rigsby stared out past the forward bow as the bridge crew scrambled to stations around him. He payed them no mind, the chief of ship would ensure that the crew change took place efficiently, then he he’d save a disapproving stare for his captain as he worked another 16 hour day and took yet another second shift in a row.
The hell of it was he new the chief was right. As old school as he was, and as new school as the Daring was, the chief knew boats, and he knew captains. But Tom just couldnt be a good little captain and stay away. He had to get to know this ship, it wasnt just his first time captaining a big ship, it was his first captaining a carrier, and it was this carriers first journey after sea trials, and it was this crews first journey on a new ship and with a new full board captain. He had to be here to learn the quirks and creaks that only active service strain revealed about ship. Hell the daring was so new it didnt even creak. As if that wasn’t the most unnatural thing ever.

He lowered his eyes from the bow and looked down onto the immense flight deck, a trap recovery was being completed and a replacement CAP bird was lining up for launch with one more being ferried up the ships elevator from its massive hold below the flight deck.
He tried to encompass the the whole of the ship but knew that was ridiculous. The HMAS Daring was the single largest warship afloat. She was the result of 10 years of combined planing from the Royal Navy, the Royal Australian Navy, And the United States Navy. She encompassed the very best technology from the finest minds in the free world, and she was all his.
“Captain” A sententious voice of the ships MI sounded in his earpeice “We are approaching the divide line, the LMI’s on Incredible, Parramatta, Encounter, Barracuda, Argonaut,  Dolphin and Indomitable report ready for stealth ops, The CAG reports ready to launch ground recon flight. Instructions from the Flag are ready for you in the war room. The Captain of Argonaut sends his regards and is waiting to speak to you via whisper net.”

Rigsby nodded to himself, turned and spoke to his XO. “XO Turner you have the weight.”
“Aye aye sir, I have the weight” He announced loudly
“XO has the weight” Repeated the Chief of Ship.

“Sir?” Rigsby nodded at his XO to continue “Any idea what Argonaut wants?” Rigsby laughed and nodded.
“Probably just to let me know that no matter how smart Madam is, we are still the biggest target out here.” He chuckled again at the expression on his XO’s face ” I know the skipper of the Argonaut we met at Newport at the War College, when i was doing a stint over there as an Admirals Aid. He has always been a submariner and felt that money spent on carriers was better spent on nuke boats and missle heads”
“Cheeky bloody Seppo” Turner replied and laughed. “Well sir let me know when your on line in the war room, I’ll keep things buttoned down here”

“I know you will XO.” He smiled “Dont let the chief push you around” He finished with a smile for the chief and began to head below.

So heres two links to the large size version of the lost trailers.

http://www.dbmb.net/cheese/lostlastsupper1.jpg

http://www.dbmb.net/cheese/lostlastsupper2.jpg

Makes me want more lost.

-Out
dont touch the bubble

“Choose” Blue intoned, his voice carrying the hint of a question.

“Why?” Answered Red, pushing her self away from the table and the board that lay in-front of her, her eyes glinting with mirth. “The pieces are the same, only the colour is different” She seemed to float backwards into the depths of the darkness that surrounded them, sitting somehow lasciviously and at her ease at the same time. Her chair seemed to cradle her, perfectly matched to her personality as if it where simply another piece of the clothing she was barely wearing.

“Because you must choose, it is your turn.” Blue replied. In contrast he sat uncomfortably atop his chair, perching as though might an eagle constrained to the ground to long, eager to be away. “Besides.” He added smiling in his own way, the smile of a predator before the chase. “The pieces are not all that similar, only superficially”

He held up two pawns, one white one black. The black pawn seemed oddly twisted turned in on itself, hiding it seemed, if indeed a board piece could be said to hide, but still deep within it there seemed to be a strength not yet taped. In contrast the white piece appeared to glow somewhat, brightly and without fear. It was warm to the touch, but it seemed hollow somehow, as if all its glory where on the outside with little substance within to hold it all together.

“Perhaps” Red agreed “However the rules are the same, no matter the side” Her voice carried exasperation “The game changes nothing, because we are constrained by the rules”

“Look deeper” Blue smiled “The rules might be the same, even the moves, but the pieces sister, the pieces are what matters.” He gestured to the pieces, pawns, aligned along the board “When we play them.” And then to the Court pieces laying outside the board “Then they play themselves, that is what matters sister, the pieces!” His blue eyes glinted with excitement when he spoke, he grinned his grin of expectation as his sister ran a hand through her deep burgundy hair sighing she lifted the white piece out of his hand and returned it to its place on the board. The board moving with her so that as she lay the piece down the row of white pieces lay in-front of her, the black opposite her. The court pieces to her left seemed to grow and shift in expectation as she did, anticipating the time when they might have to choose a side, choose a fate.

“None of these pieces is new to me.” She said studying the board, and running a critical eye over the court pieces. “I have seen them all before.” She waved her left hand absent mindedly towards the court pieces as her right hovered over a pawn. “The court always looses no matter how you shepperd them”

“I know” Blue replied leaning back now watching his sisters face, the far reaching darkness that surrounded them, seemed to be encroaching on their small circle of light. He glanced not without caution into the black. “But we are not the only players.” The dark seemed to swell at his off-hand acknowledgement straining against the circle of light. “But wining doesnt matter sister. Only loosing counts” He sighed and gestured with a finality towards his sister, a move long practiced, a formality it seemed. And spoke with great lament.

“So we beging anew”

“This has all happened before” Red said, the words carrying a final formality, like a litany of faith She reached and moved her first piece lifting it high

“And will again” Blue replied  with equal formality just as red peice finished its move.

*******

Marcus woke.

So i have this idea for a story.

 It takes place in the first person – observed, that is the first person is listening to another person tell a story in the first person. For eg.

It was dark in McLulens, the old man that owned the bar seemed to have a thing against proper lighting, either that or he just didnt want people to see the stains on the walls. Mclulens was almost a sterotype, Irish bar in boston, surrounded on all sides by an industrial complex and poverty, when the grocery store closed down due to lack of buisness McLulens extended its opening ours, it was just one of those places. I felt safe there in amongst the filth and dregs of society, that was until i heard his story.

“You ever question whether or not you should live kid?” The strange question came out of nowhere, the man that habitualy sat next to me as i drank my FEMA money away hadnt spoken to me in months it was strange to hear his voice now, his scared and grizzled visage begged of a dark and gravely voice, the polished tones of an upperclass education seemed strange comming from his mouth, certainly strange in here.

“Me nah, Rain didnt kill me, Wind didnt Kill me, Hell even the guard didnt kill me, Figure i got some right to live” I replied, my eyes scanning over the olderman, he was maybe 20 years older than me, verging on 50, a warm, badly used, once pricy overcoat covering him even in the warmth of the bar, a pile of odd notes and loose change lay infront of him at the bar. He sighed and turned to me, his red rimmed eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and anger.

“Thats not what i asked kid, I asked whether or not your sure!” his sentence was punctuated with a painfull gasp “If you should live”