Chapter 4: Sonne Before Rain
Lieutenant al'Vere felt much more confident after the meeting. She'd observed the captain's prominent (if albeit subtly crooked) sense of humor, and this put her more at ease. Despite her outwardly sunny disposition, Sonne al'Vere always kept a small circle of friends.
Sonne thought back to her recent days at Starfleet Academy. She was not particularly social; many were drawn to her, but only on an acquainted level. She'd been close friends with those that immersed themselves in the same passions as she: psychology and understanding, music, writing, and the arts.
Her matter-of-fact English demeanor had remained a private aspect of herself; only her classmates saw her apparent cynicism. At one point in her academic career, Sonne had thrown so much of herself into her studies and volunteer activities that if it weren't for John, she would have had little extraneous devotion or outlet for passion.
John had encouraged her to hold her own recital, and she'd agreed, thus winning her a small yet diverse circle of friends. Now, still so close to Earth, she felt as if she were being forced to begin yet again. She doubted not any aspect of the love she and John shared, however it was simply difficult already, missing him.
Sonne promised herself that she'd socialize after she'd finished unpacking. She'd rather be resourceful and confident; approach Counselor Troi and begin proving her worthiness of the Assistant Counselor title that she'd earned.
Sonne pulled open her standard issue case, which sat upon her bed. Immediately, she grabbed a singularly important isolinear chip—that which contained her writing. There were more chips of programs she'd holoauthored, she placed these neatly in their transparent case on her desk.
She dug through clothes and other objects, somewhat panicked until she found her precious picture.
It was taken just one day before her wedding. In the picture, she and John had been standing, hands held before a San Franciscan sunset, backs toward the photographer. There were other pictures of the couple, of course, but this was her favorite: facing it all together, until the very end. This gave Sonne courage, and she proceeded to hang the impressionistic artwork that she'd favored so wholly. Two hours later, she remained in her uniform, her belongings unpacked, and prepared to socialize.
As if in response, someone arrived at the door.
"Come in."
Counselor Troi, also in uniform, entered Lieutenant al'Vere's quarters.
"Counselor Troi," Sonne greeted, somewhat relieved that it was a person with whom she was already acquainted.
"Please," the senior counselor replied, "Call me Deanna."
Sonne smiled in reply, bruising her lengthy brown hair behind her shoulders. She considered tying it back, as was regulation length, the way she'd worn it at the meeting. She invited Deanna to sit down at the never- used table, and Troi accepted.
Troi laughed.
"I grew tired of waiting for Captain Riker to do so, and I wanted to meet you first, anyway. We should make a time to discuss our goals."
"Yes," Sonne responded enthusiastically, "I was thinking we might host a social activity; a concert perhaps."
"What a lovely idea! The captain plays trombone. I'm sure he'd love to participate," Deanna encouraged.
"It's so nice to have a new family again," remarked Sonne, squeezing her shoulders together in a smug fashion.
"Perhaps we can go to Ten Forward and meet this new family. We can get a bite to eat," Troi suggested.
Sonne relinquished her seat, happy to have found a kindred spirit so soon.
Lieutenant al'Vere felt much more confident after the meeting. She'd observed the captain's prominent (if albeit subtly crooked) sense of humor, and this put her more at ease. Despite her outwardly sunny disposition, Sonne al'Vere always kept a small circle of friends.
Sonne thought back to her recent days at Starfleet Academy. She was not particularly social; many were drawn to her, but only on an acquainted level. She'd been close friends with those that immersed themselves in the same passions as she: psychology and understanding, music, writing, and the arts.
Her matter-of-fact English demeanor had remained a private aspect of herself; only her classmates saw her apparent cynicism. At one point in her academic career, Sonne had thrown so much of herself into her studies and volunteer activities that if it weren't for John, she would have had little extraneous devotion or outlet for passion.
John had encouraged her to hold her own recital, and she'd agreed, thus winning her a small yet diverse circle of friends. Now, still so close to Earth, she felt as if she were being forced to begin yet again. She doubted not any aspect of the love she and John shared, however it was simply difficult already, missing him.
Sonne promised herself that she'd socialize after she'd finished unpacking. She'd rather be resourceful and confident; approach Counselor Troi and begin proving her worthiness of the Assistant Counselor title that she'd earned.
Sonne pulled open her standard issue case, which sat upon her bed. Immediately, she grabbed a singularly important isolinear chip—that which contained her writing. There were more chips of programs she'd holoauthored, she placed these neatly in their transparent case on her desk.
She dug through clothes and other objects, somewhat panicked until she found her precious picture.
It was taken just one day before her wedding. In the picture, she and John had been standing, hands held before a San Franciscan sunset, backs toward the photographer. There were other pictures of the couple, of course, but this was her favorite: facing it all together, until the very end. This gave Sonne courage, and she proceeded to hang the impressionistic artwork that she'd favored so wholly. Two hours later, she remained in her uniform, her belongings unpacked, and prepared to socialize.
As if in response, someone arrived at the door.
"Come in."
Counselor Troi, also in uniform, entered Lieutenant al'Vere's quarters.
"Counselor Troi," Sonne greeted, somewhat relieved that it was a person with whom she was already acquainted.
"Please," the senior counselor replied, "Call me Deanna."
Sonne smiled in reply, bruising her lengthy brown hair behind her shoulders. She considered tying it back, as was regulation length, the way she'd worn it at the meeting. She invited Deanna to sit down at the never- used table, and Troi accepted.
Troi laughed.
"I grew tired of waiting for Captain Riker to do so, and I wanted to meet you first, anyway. We should make a time to discuss our goals."
"Yes," Sonne responded enthusiastically, "I was thinking we might host a social activity; a concert perhaps."
"What a lovely idea! The captain plays trombone. I'm sure he'd love to participate," Deanna encouraged.
"It's so nice to have a new family again," remarked Sonne, squeezing her shoulders together in a smug fashion.
"Perhaps we can go to Ten Forward and meet this new family. We can get a bite to eat," Troi suggested.
Sonne relinquished her seat, happy to have found a kindred spirit so soon.