Music is the food of the soul

Posted on Thu Dec 8th, 2022 @ 6:09am by Lieutenant JG Damien Blackford

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Deck 12 - Cabin 29 E-O
644 words - 1.3 OF Standard Post Measure

Damien sighed, walking into his quarters, running a hand through his hair, reaching a hand up, unbuttoning the top button of his uniform, and letting out a sigh of relief as he did. Whoever had designed these uniforms clearly didn’t have comfort in mind when they did. The collar was constantly rubbing against his skin, causing him to itch throughout his shift, leaving him with what looked like a nasty rash on his neck. Dropping onto the nearby sofa, he leaned back, his head dropping past the back of the couch, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He stayed that way for a few minutes, letting the silence wash over him, enjoying the momentary peace that came with having no roommate. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to swing getting his own cabin when he was still a junior officer, but he certainly wasn’t one to complain.

That being said, it was weird being on his own. Having spent the last four years with a roommate at the Academy, then sharing quarters with someone on his training cruise, he’d almost gotten used to having someone around. Sure, there were benefits to living alone. He never had to worry about coming in late and disturbing someone. He could stay up late in the main room without the worry someone was going to moan at him. He could take as long as he wanted in the shower.

But, there were also benefits to having a roommate. Always someone to talk to if you needed advice. If you got lucky, your roommate might be a great chef and make amazing meals. And the biggest benefit? You were never lonely. He sighed, opening his eyes, sitting up again, and rubbing the stiffness out of the back of his neck. He really shouldn’t sit like that for too long. Glancing around the room, his eyes fell on the picture that was situated on the middle of his coffee. Smiling, he picked it up. It was off his and Vira’s date to the ‘theatre’. She looked stunning, as always, in her dress.

“Maybe Mayne was right.” He muttered to himself. “Maybe it’s time I asked Vira if she wants to move in with me?” He sighed, groaning, leaning back again. “Ugh. Why don’t they have classes on these things?” He wondered aloud. “Phaser fights, desert survival, and Bat’leth battles? Sure, classes aplenty. How to ask the cute Transporter Specialist if she wants to move in with you? Not a single one!”

Sitting up, he shook his head, and stood up, heading for the bedroom. He needed to shower before he drove himself crazy thinking about these things.

20 minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, hair still half damp, having changed into a simple blue button-down shirt and jeans, carrying a small case. Sitting down, he placed it gently on the table, opening it. Inside lay a small violin, which he carefully took out, running his fingers over it with a slight reverence. Music. Arthur Schopenhauer once said ‘Music is the soul.’ And it was something that Damien had always agreed with. He always found that answers came a lot clearer after he let himself go in a piece of music.

Making sure the instrument was properly tuned, he picked the bow up and moved it experimentally across the strings. Satisfied with the noise that was produced, he let out a soft sigh, before closing his eyes, adjusting his grip, and starting. He never knew what he was going to play before he started, he just went with whatever felt right to him at the time.

When the piece was finished, he smiled to himself, opening his eyes. Placing the violin and bow softly back into its case, he nodded to himself. The answer was clear. Of course it was.