La belle musique

1.) Prelude

Holding the title of Principal Violinist for the Paris Symphonia was not an easy job, but as Kathryn Janeway liked to say, “Someone’s gotta do it”, and who better than Kathryn Janeway herself? The ride to the top was not an easy one, and a journey best forgotten in the tide of confusion and drama that went on behind the scenes; losing one’s head was not an option, not if keeping a job and earning a living was important, and if Kathryn Janeway was passionate about one thing in life, it was her job. Second best was not an option and anything less than a top performance was unacceptable, out of the question, and completely deplorable: from herself, and from the rest of the symphony. A change in the composition of the symphony effected every last person in the group and every single note that came from their instruments; a new musician could throw their entire programme off balance and create havoc for the delicately tuned strains of melody that Kathryn depended on for her prestige and her well being. Nobody made a move without telling Kathryn Janeway, not if they valued their life; apparently Jean-Luc was becoming careless with his.     The Symphonia’s yearly two week hiatus at the end of July had just ended, providing rest and recuperation for the musicians, and an opportunity for Conductor Jean-Luc Picard to select new material for the Symphonia’s Autumnal Programme.  Janeway had spent her vacation as she always did, alone in her apartment, composing new material for her Violin, and reading any and all books she could get a hold of. Feeling wonderfully refreshed from a much needed break, she walked into the doors to the theatre, ready for a hearty practice and a much needed catch-up with her valued friends.

The Principal Second Violinist, Isabella Torres, had called Kathryn on the phone earlier that day, proclaiming, “Important news, that I absolutely have to tell you in person”, which, from Isabella could very well mean nothing, but Janeway regarded the young woman as a dear friend, and thinking of the “news” she was going to receive brought a smile to her face. And then there was Kesslyn; Janeway hadn’t spoken to the woman she regarded as a protégé for nearly two weeks, and was anxious to see how she was fairing. The petite, fair haired woman had never failed to amaze Kathryn Janeway, and from the moment she took position as the Symphonia’s Principal Cellist, Kes had been a pleasure to work with. Not only was she brilliant, interpreting music in such a way that brought the hard-willed Janeway to tears, she provided a steady, glowing personality that reinforced what being a musician was all about; bringing the emotions of music to everyone that could be reached.     As Janeway took her place on the Left side of the Conductor’s stand, there was only one thing she didn’t look forward to: the arrival of Charles. That man was an absolute stiff, she had no idea how he had managed to become her second chair. She needed someone she could depend on, someone to follow her lead and reinforce her decisions for the Violin Sections, not a man hell-bent on fame, and who, at every glimmer of opportunity, tried to upshot her and steal her limelight. Now, Kathryn Janeway didn’t view herself as fame-hungry, nor someone to hoard power, but Charles could give it a rest by now; there was a reason she was Principal and he was not!     She took out her Violin, the one prized possession in life, a genuine Stradivarius built by the master himself in 1700, the beginning of his “golden era.” It bared the name of the Taft after a previous owner and was the most beautiful Violin Kathryn had ever seen or heard, and the most beautiful gesture by her Father, the giver of the Violin before his death. But Kathryn did not want to think of that, could not bear to think of her father, for now was the time to play, to get lost in the music and the beauty of life, not a time to mourn.       As the beginning notes of the Violin Solo in Vivaldi’s “La Primavera”, the Spring movement of his Four Seasons Symphony made their way from Kathryn’s violin, she was stopped dead in her tracks, for a new arrival had made her way to the Cello section, directly across from Kathryn’s line of sight. Oh, she was gorgeous, there was no question about it, but what the hell was she doing in Kathryn’s symphony, and what nerve did she possess sitting in Kes’s chair? The Principal Cellist could be argued to be the most important position of the entire symphony, the groundwork and steady tempo were laid by the Cello section, and if not kept in line, the whole symphony would be mislead. Oh, Kes would be hearing about this! No doubt about it. But for now, Kathryn Janeway was going to put this brash young woman in her place.     She strode the few steps toward the Cello section with intent, never once pausing in her task. Arriving at her destination, she took no preamble in niceties, this woman needed to know how it worked here, and that Kathryn Janeway was in charge. Forget Jean-Luc, every member of this symphony reported to her, for without Kathryn Janeway, this Symphony was nothing; nothing.

“What the hell are you doing sitting in that chair?” Kathryn demanded of the woman before her.

“Ah, so nice to meet you, I’m Annika Hansen. I’ve heard so much about you, the illustrious Kathryn Janeway; I wondered how long it would take to make your personal acquaintance” the woman before her replied.

“I don’t know where you get off behaving like such a smartass, but I’m going to put you in your place right now. This seat is reserved for the Principal Cellist, not for you, and I’d think that you would know that by now – you must have at least a little experience, Jean-Luc may be many things, but stupid is not one of them.”

“I am the Principal Cellist” Annika Hansen replied, “and I look forward to working with you and hope that in the future, perhaps after you’ve heard me play, you can be as friendly as I have been with you.”

It took all of Kathryn’s control to not slap this Annika Hansen silly, she reminded herself that knocking out a member of the symphony, even one as arrogant and self-absorbed as Annika Hansen, would not bode well for her. Janeway glared at her, a stare known to make grown men cry, and walked off the stage, grabbing her violin with her, and did not once look back. Jean-Luc was in trouble, mighty big trouble, and if he knew what was good for him a huge explanation and a huge gift would be coming right up.