The joke is on us all.

Posted on Mon 1st Dec, 2025 @ 12:11am by Lieutenant Wyndon Rapisarta MD
Edited on on Wed 3rd Dec, 2025 @ 1:11am

1,324 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: From The Ashes
Location: Performance Hall

OR 3
"Computer, send file for dictation to Dr. Rapisarda's office. " Wyndon stripped the isolation gear from his body and tossed it into the recycler with a practiced ease.

“Don't forget this sir” the nurse commented as she handed Dr. Rapisarta the wrapped gold object that he'd been playing with earlier. The surgeon had laid it aside to enter into the sterile field, and had not picked it up from the personal objects area of the clean room.

Wyndon smiled when he saw the tiny, wrapped package. “Ah yes, thank you. “The man murmured as he received the object and tucked it into his pocket.

“What is it anyway sir? “The nurse's curious voice drifted back to him.

“This?” He withdrew the cloth from his pocket again. Unwrapping it he held the metal bell between his fingers and raised it to his lips where he blew into it making a rude sound. Giggles rose from the nurses who were still in the room. “I play the trumpet. This is a mouthpiece, allowing air to pass into the instrument. I carry it pretty much everywhere so I can practice. “

“Of course you do sir.”

Smiling, the tall doctor took himself away, intending on walking towards the musical center of the station, once he'd changed his clothing. He'd been told about it, immediately on his arrival by Victor. The other doctor knew that he would enjoy the not at all small Performance Hall in the Garden district.

Normally he just practiced in his quarters because that was considered normal aboard the starships that had been his home. The man had never been in a place like this before and was vastly impressed with the amenities. Wyndon, not expecting that he'd ever be in a place large enough to have something like a performance hall was delighted by the knowledge that this place had one. The fact that it was a vital hub of activity here, made it all the more appealing to the musician. The man was looking forward to seeing the vast breadth of experience that he could have on a Starbase such as this.

He approached the building and relaxed into a seat. Listening he heard the strains of several musical pieces overlapping softly. An organ started playing and he leaned forward to listen. When the trumpet did not join the organ at the queue, he grinned and rose to his feet.

Oh, lets have some fun eh?

Following the sound of the organ, he almost laughed when he heard the organist singing the trumpet line. Managing to hold it together because laughing would ruin his surprise he quietly set down the box. Opening it silently, he took out the pieces of the horn. Wyndon's own trumpet, he assembled quietly in the space outside of the theater around the organ. A young woman was playing, her brown hair in a messy bun at the nape of her neck.

Start from the top. You made a mistake so start over, come on.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, she played a discordant chord purposely, sighed and flipped back through the sheet music. Starting from the beginning, the music flowed from her fingers at a more sedate pace. Wyndon knew the trumpet part to the Prayer of St. Gregory for Trumpet and Organ fairly well, having performed it a few years before. He waited and came in precisely at the point where the woman had started singing last time.

A mad cackle of laughter erupted from the organist, who'd gotten over her shock enough to now find it amusing.

“Do you have another performance like that in you?”

“Always”

She grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him out of the practice halls to the main concert hall. While she was pulling him along she hurriedly explained “We’re auditioning trumpets today, in our practice. Both of ours got reassigned without much in the way of notice. They're rehearsing of course, but as theres no organ or piano in it, I wasn't needed. I was just using the time to get some practicing in separately. We're going to pull the same trick on Meistro Delainey as you did on me .”

Nodding eagerly, he followed.

“Haydn?” he whispered, grinning in recognition as the allegro came to an end.

Her answering grin had him in a fit of silent laughter. The iconic introduction to the Haydn Trumpet concerto's finale had him flexing his fingers on the valves in time with the music. Wyndon drew himself up to his full height and threw his shoulders back, his whole posture changing into the epitome of every soloist. Eyes dancing with delight, he looked down the length of his trumpet. Those three valves, he flexed each one before taking a deep breath properly, into his belly...

3...

2...

1...

There it was. The Maestro queued him without even realizing it, having built it into his conducting repertoire. There wasn't anyone on the solo stand , for the first and second trumpet were absent. It looked like there was a person in the trumpet section, in the back. That person looked young and vaguely androgenous from the vantage point of the back of the hall. Wyndon assumed the person was a student so his part in the orchestral piece was likely 3rd or 4th chair, not up to the comfort level of this kind of solo activity.

The first clear, ringing notes from the trumpet in the back of the concert hall startled everyone involved. The Maestro startled enough to drop a Beat with his baton, his hands stilling in the air as he looked for whomever had interrupted his rehearsal. It was only a millisecond, before the man's eyes lit on the doctor in the back. Turning his body slightly so he could see the newcomer, he regained control of his orchestra with the downbeat and continued. The Pianist danced a delighted little jig right there next to him as she watched everyone's face change with surprise that she had orchestrated. The bright, resonant notes of the trumpet came with a pleasant Buzz in the lips and face that Wyndon associated with his own musical skill. He'd long ago learned that the buzz meant he was playing properly.

Smiles were spreading on the faces of the concertmaster and the rest of the violins that he could see. He'd watched the Ripple of surprise cross through the whole Orchestra, but it was a credit to them that they did not miss any of the accompaniment that came underneath the trumpets solo. There had not been one sour note, though perhaps he'd startled one or two of them into not playing at all. The frission of delight that reverberated through his whole body at this bit of triumph for himself remained even as the notes faded from the air. He pulled the instrument away from his mouth after the first set of trills in the iconic piece ,a tiny amount, so that he could wet his lips before placing them back in position.

He almost, almost laughed again when the conductor whose name was Delainey if he recalled correctly queued him intentionally for his next entrance. He didn't even smile of course, because doing so would throw off his tone. Wyndon, of course didn't miss a beat, nor would he have done so unqueued, for he could see the score in his head playing out before his eyes. He had at one point, had a pair of glasses that would display the music without needing the physical sheets before him. He hadn't needed to use the pair he had for this piece in many years the Haydn trumpet concertos were his favorite pieces to play, and he'd long since memorized them all.

And so, he continued to play...

For everyone's listening pleasure...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amXCXRjQGck&list=LL&index=14

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hb5MSJcBb9o&list=LL&index=27

 

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