Let me tell you about Brenda.

[O Dinas Powys]

 

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart 

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to... 

[fsn]

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart 

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to... 

   Thank you.

[Techno 3]

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart 

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to... 

How about the Dave Greenslade/Patrick Woodruffe collaboration, 'The Pentateuche of the Cosmogony' album ?
I must listen to that again.....Maybe.

[fsn]

Arturis (2nd from left at the bottom) watches as the scout returns with news. Since this is Brenda, it's not going to be good news.

Arturis glanced nervously around him as he strained to hear what the scout was saying.

"We're there," said the scout, "just around the next cluster of pompoms."



Nobody was listening. Behind the scout something very large was falling across the sky.

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

Ominous hummmmm

[d_Guy]

Oh no!

[Ithoriel]

I was thinking more ...

[pierre the shy]

Oh no!

"I couldn't help it, it just popped in there" 

[O Dinas Powys]

How about the Dave Greenslade/Patrick Woodruffe collaboration, 'The Pentateuche of the Cosmogony' album ?
I must listen to that again.....Maybe.

Unfortunately, it's not on Spotify, so I couldn't experience it

However I listened to some Pentateuche-adjacent material to get the vibe 

[d_Guy]

I was thinking more ...

Let's not rule out the one of elder ones or Cthulhu him/her/it self.

[fsn]

Unfortunately, it's not on Spotify, so I couldn't experience it

However I listened to some Pentateuche-adjacent material to get the vibe 

[fsn]

A short time ago ...

It awoke. Or rather a few more processes came online. Something had changed; something had happened. It awoke, and stretched. Or rather, it sent interrogatory pulses to its siblings. So few responded. Once there were thousands, now there were but hundreds. Time had taken its toll, and some of those who did respond were so worn down with age as to be useless, but there were enough. There had to be enough.

It moved, slowly, oh so slowly. Partly this was long unused systems slowly coming on line, but partly it was hunting. It knew its siblings were likewise stalking their prey. A few slightly faster so they would spread out into waves of attackers.

It was excited. Or rather its systems were fully engaged. Call it a bomb, a torpedo or a mine, its purpose was to attack and destroy intruders. Possibly it felt satisfaction as it detonated in the engine faring of its target.


On board the Warspite, Alex was at the helm. He was a distinguished and scholarly man, well past middle age. In previous times he would have been called a gentleman. He had spent his life flying merchant ships until the black day that destroyed his ship, killed his family, and he had been rescued by the Warspite.

The first mine exploded in the engine faring, quickly followed by several others. Alex looked at the threat screen in horror as the number of yellow dots appeared in seemingly never ending waves.

The point defence lasers flared along the length of the Warspite.  Artemis, one of the ship's AI systems controlled the fire, selecting the most dangerous mines to target first. Even Warspite's magnificent defences were insufficient to fend off the hundreds of speeding, darting mines. Alex felt the explosions ... one ... two ... four ... too many. 

The bridge door opened and York walked in. He appeared to be calm and unrushed. He raised an eyebrow at Alex.

"We're in a minefield. The first wave hit us quite hard, but the defences are mostly coping with the rest." He looked apologetically at York as another mine exploded somewhere.  "Jump drive is down, manoeuvre is partly there."

"Options?" York asked.

Alex blew out a long breath.

"Damned few." He glanced at the threat screen. There were far fewer of the yellow dots now, their number decreasing steadily.

"Crew check." York spoke to the air.

"Janine; in the infirmary." Janine had been a hospital doctor and surgeon for many years before giving it up to become a merchant fleet medic. She had been taken aboard Warspite as the only survivor of Alex's ship. They had bonded over their loss, and eventually took to midnight flits to each others cabins. When the moved to the same cabin nobody was surprised, but it was not spoken of. Janine was a very capable doctor, whose caring nature was hidden underneath a waspish carapace.

"I have Smita and Alison here," Janine added. "and before you ask they're fine. That first bump knocked Smita over and she's got a cut to the head. A minor cut. " York smiled.  Smita was also a doctor; a young and idealistic one. Her parents had worried when she had announced her intention to visit far off worlds and had hired army veteran Alison as bodyguard, confidante and chaperone. Smita was quite capable of dealing with a minor cut on her head, but Alison would have rushed her to the infirmary anyway. 

"Rowan, Alder – OK". Rowan and Alder were twins who had boarded Warspite at the same time as 
York.  Army brats, they were destined to be professional soldiers from the cradle. They had few skills in spacecraft operations, but would be geared up and ready to land a hand where they could. 

"Quillam and Sean; We're fine. " Quillam was a long serving navy Petty Officer who functioned as the Warspite's engineer. Sean who was the antithesis of the engineer. Whereas Marine Sean was tall, rangy, and young, Quillam was short, barrel chested had a wealth of experience hidden under the equipment vest he always wore.

"You should see the engine room." growled Quillam.
"I believe I saw several parts of it float by on the port side." Alex didn't even look up from his pilot's console.   

York ticked the crew off in his head. There was one missing.
"Lydia. Where are you?" Lydia had been York's co-pilot before they had boarded the Warspite, and they had spent a lot of time together on a 2 person scout ship. Lydia knew York better than anyone else, better than York. Despite occasional her air-head persona, she was keenly intelligent and competent in a number of areas,
"Sorry Darling. I was in the bath."
"We don't have a bath."
"Oh." There was a pause.
"Just come to the bridge when you're ready."
"Will do, Darling." York could swear he heard water sloshing about. "In the meantime, I've sent you a present."  One of the screens on the bridge now displayed an image of a small device. Lydia must have captured it from the Warspite's sensors. 

"We don't have a bath." York said to no-one in particular.   
"We also don't have a lot of fuel. That last explosion ruptured the main tanks, and we're venting." Alex responded.
"Our bad luck or their good targetting?" 
Alex gave an elegant shrug. "Immaterial, either way we're going to land on that planet. The questions are when and how hard. We can maintain for a few orbits, but that will just give us a chance to pick where we're going to end up."

"Go to a red zone planet, he said, it'll be fun he said." Lydia had appeared on the bridge as if by magic – hair wrapped in a towel.
"We don't have a bath." Said York.
"We do have some very old mines though." Lydia began to dry her long black hair with the towel. She nodded at the screen. "There's a lot of them out there, mostly inert – or maybe just dormant. They're Imperium tech, but not standard. Modified. Small and sneaky, but fortunately not individually that powerful."
"...but en masse, in waves" York continued
"... very dangerous. The point is they have been floating around this planet for hundreds of years.  Just left here, presumably to enforce the red zone." 

Lydia nodded to Alex.
"Hi Alex. Are we going to crash?" The pilot smiled thinly.
"Not crash exactly.  We will make something of a forced landing though."
 "Crash – forced landing; potato – horrible death." Lydia combed her fingers through her fair, tutting in mild annoyance as she'd hadn't got a hairbrush.


On the surface, Arturis watched the Warspite fall across the sky, trailing a tail of burning fuel and debris.

His people had come from the sky, he knew. There were those who watched the sky, but they had largely forgotten why. He was confused. Was this a good thing; or did it presage ill fortune? He shrugged his shoulders as the Warspite flew over the horizon. It was gone, and so it no longer mattered. He felt guilty that his attention had been so distracted. He scanned the area, looking for threats, the Warspite forgotten.   

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

Nice 

[d_Guy]

Entertaining read as always.

To help me properly visualize, other than the towel around her head was Lydia wearing anything else?

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

She knows where her bath towel is, there's nothing else she needs...

[Raider4]

Sounds like a real hoopy frood.

[d_Guy]

She knows where her bath towel is, there's nothing else she needs...

An important point.

[fsn]

With the flaming Warspite forgotten, the expedition pressed on and within a few hours had reached the base of the monolith that was to be their new home.

Monoliths dotted the surface of Brenda. They were extrusions of rock that seemed to have been forced from the ground like toothpaste through a tube. Humans had discovered their interior was not solid, being riffle with cavities like a Swiss cheese. By burrowing into these monoliths, humans found a reasonably quick way to create living reasonably spaces safe from IPs, goats and pompoms.

One of the carts contained a chest in which lay a great treasure – chisels and hammers made from white metal. These could be used to quickly cut through the monolith, hollowing out living spaces for the community. 

What would this new community be called? The use of place names was a largely forgotten art on Brenda. It was said, by those who cared, that there was a place called "Three". The theory was it was the third place inhabited, but there was no signs of "One" or "Two" and, Arturis was born in a place that had been known as "Gunterstown" though no-one knew or had ever known someone called Gunter.

In other cultures, there would perhaps have been a ceremony or celebration to commemorate the new project, but these were humans on Brenda. One of the carriages was drawn up and a pair of men climbed on the roof and began hacking away a doorway with the white metal tools. Meanwhile, the goats were led away to be thanked and released.

Those not engaged in these activities formed a loose perimeter, for this was the most dangerous time. They were now immobile and making enough noise to attract ips.



By nightfall, those working on the doorway had not yet discovered a hollow, and had cut a disappointingly small way into the monolith.  Tired and disappointed the expedition camped behind the makeshift barricade made of the carts and carriages. Sentries were posted and they settled down for the night,


Arturius awoke. It was still dark, or as dark as it ever got on Brenda. He lay still, trying to decipher  what had woken him. He heard nothing. Slowly turning his head, he could not see anything but the sleeping bodies of his companions. He reached out with his mind and there, some distance away was something strange.  He rose, reaching for his spear.  Others woke and rose, silent, without questions, but grasping their weapons.

Damon ghosted up to stand by Arturius.
"You feel them?" he asked.
Damon's face twisted in concentration, then he nodded. 
"What?" Balinda had moved to join them.  She was elected leader of the expedition. Arturius pointed into the darkness.
"Two creatures – not human, not ip, not goat. There."

Balinda peered into the night. 
"They have gone!" said Damon.
"Good" said Balinda, turning to leave. Arturius stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Not moved away. Gone. Just not there anymore." Balinda grunted.
"Then they are gone. I will warn the sentries."
"I will stay and keep watch." Offered Damon. Balinda nodded, and stomped off.

Arturius went back to bed.

[O Dinas Powys]