From her room Perrin could look over the bay. Though not the original, the golden gate bridge had been reconstructed from photographs managing to survive the Third World War. She felt the contrast was lovely compared to Starfleet's campus and admitted she had missed the view. She indulged herself in recalling the surge of excitement she felt the first time she saw it in person. But she brushed it away from her mind to focus again on what she needed. More mint tea.

Walking over to the replicator, Perrin heard something drop. I shouldn't have sat it there, she thought. A jar of rosin had slipped off the armrest when she rose from her chair. She scooped back in a chunk of it that broke off, setting it next to the replicator.

"Mint tea." She leaned in to the device as she spoke.

"Insufficient data."

"Mint tea, hot."

A glass materialized on the counter. She felt some frustration pricking away at her focus; just one missing word and it doesn't know how to cope, Perrin thought. Relaxing back into her chair, she moved on what she'd been memorizing. The song drifted into her head clearly and soon claimed all her attention.

Wide crowds gathered in view of the Bay while Perrin cleaned her bow, her polished violin sitting on a Starfleet issued towel at her feet. Their insignia reflected off the side of the wood clearly. The process, the progress, and the mint tea completed a ritual as sacred to her as any Vulcan mediation session. Sarek flashed into her mind for a second as she finally straightened up to play. Perrin had tried to save the last of her drink but she'd been careful with her cleaning, spending enough time inspecting the instrument for imperfections that the mug held just air by then. Perrin went to refill it.

"I need your copy; the Denobulan freighter I rode in on lost about almost half my stuff in a transporter jam." Another woman breezily demanded. She bounced into the room, flinging her carry on and case onto a second bed, the other by the chair already claimed by Perrin's things. By the time Perrin figured out what she might be talking about, the other woman had grabbed a roll of papers off a cabinet pushed near the back door.

"Mia; that's not the one. It's on top of my case." Mia turned and spotted it with glee, sheet music for "None but the Lonely Heart"; personally requested from the Federation President. He had stressed that Russian composers were underappreciated over the com when they spoke with him. Perrin and the quartet had practiced constantly to address his concerns when came time for them to preform. Mia and she had even pulled out their violins and played them on the spot when spotted each other in the courtyard of Starfleet Academy. Mia had doubled over laughing at a pair of Klingons looking as though Perrin and she had confirmed their worse fears about humans.

"What was that one, huh?" Mia started to unroll what she had originally picked up.

"A piece my mother taught me violin with."

"Oooh; what? I think this is the first I am hearing about a mother, or family." She scrambled for her own violin, flinging the case back onto the bed. Flattening the pages was difficult as they spent most of their time rolled up and as a memento in Perrin's luggage. Mia scanned the notes and marched through them, the tone slightly off, her strings not yet tuned.

"It's a bizarre version of Ciaccona." Mia looked up to her quizzically.

"There were a few things my mother just did not care for in Bach's version." Perrin grabbed the papers from her gently, suddenly realizing she'd never made copies.


Sarek had arrived on the campus earlier in evening, spending his first few days in San Francisco at the Vulcan embassy before volunteering to move to Starfleet's campus. The younger ones need its isolation more than I; Sarek had given that as his reason for doing so. Now he waited for the evening's event's to start in the Federation Senate. Beyond the chamber councils, the reception hall where he was ran the length of that and various other administrative offices and councilman chambers. Sarek had positioned himself in front of the council doors, almost as tall as the room, a focal point he did not often entertain. But there were those for whom he wanted to make it easier to find him. Sarek's meandering gathered a small group, everyone eager to hear the elderly Vulcan's opinion on regulation changes. Among Federation ambassadors, there were a select few voices granted more weight than others. Vulcan's always, decorated diplomats especially.

"I am afraid any position I take will be made known when the council convenes, not before." Sarek answered to any questions in that vein.

"Ambassador, nobody's a tattletale here." Replied one.

"Yet yours are not the only ears that can hear." Hearing Sarek's response, the Zaranite ambassador conceded.

The group discussed various bits of news, calling over other attendees with first hand knowledge of the events. Sarek paid a proper amount of attention; looking to one of his aides standing near the end of the reception in-between listening to each new piece of information. The aid, Tiv'ak, dressed in formal robes, spoke to no one. Sarek noted he would have to teach him to exchange necessary pleasantries. A few of the children allowed to attend stood across from Ti'vak, giggling when each hello, hi, extended hand, or smile was ignored. He, of all Sarek's aides, would find the practice especially illogical: his parents were a priest and a priestess respectively on Mount Seleya. Sarek directed him to vacate halfway through a conversation with a Bolian on Federation mining charters. Who Sarek was looking for would be made known; knowing a few seconds beforehand would give him no advantage behind a barrier of people.

The light of the room then slowly took on a gray tone. The skylights showed stars phasing in through the fading day. Around the room Sarek counted increasing numbers of people appearing anxious.

Why they were there could break precious alliances among species that counted on very certain modes of interaction, he noted. Sarek held no particular concerns regarding the debates, serving longer than most human lifetimes. He had seen many proposals come through. Logic would prevail, even on those worlds not in the habit of considering it.

Sarek followed Tiv'ak who had moved towards a small table of foods. Not hungry, Sarek's interest was in the podium just in front of it, backlit by the Federation logo. Few were gathered near it yet. The speaker was not due to arrive until past sunset, Sarek's most senior aid—besides Kavik—had informed him. Sarek had left him behind to continue editing a proposal for an all Vulcan scientific outpost on Excalbia that the speaker, the Federation President, would find acceptable. Sarek would need to oversee it through the first few months, as was logical considering his authorship of the proposal.

He saw no reason for the request to be turned down; the abilities of the Excalbia, as well as studies into their culture and biology would yield great advancements for the Federation. Vulcans alone, Sarek thought, will be able to maintain the necessary relations to insure the survival of the endeavor.

Another Vulcan diplomat, Sa'lak, currently stationed on Bajor to Sarek's knowledge walked passed him as he planned. Sarek watched him pass. He knew of him but met Sa'lak only once before.

"Ms. Perrin; Live long and prosper." This caught Sarek's attention. The same woman who he had met on Tau Ceti Station was sitting on a stage between two wide columns, hidden until she stood up to return the greeting to Sa'lak with far more emotion than he'd seen her exhibit towards anyone on Tau Ceti. It still seemed subdued.

"As I hope you will Ambassador."

"I have not seen your father here." This remark wiped away her friendly expression; her emotions were completely guarded now.

"He has not attended these events for many years; so I have heard."

"Strange that you do not know."

"There are others that spend far more time with him than I; I'm often running across the galaxy playing." Sa'lak did not address her evasion; Sarek noted it. Instead of that, Sa'lak leaned down to observe Perrin's violin. Sarek could see Perrin's modest black dress reflected in it. He moved in slightly, brushing against a passing Starfleet officer that made his way to the stage as well. They apologized.

"Do you know any Vulcan meditation mantras?" Sa'lak inquired. The change in subject brought back warmth to Perrin's expression.

"None have been requested of me."

"I have a selection of popular mantras on a data crystal on my home in T'Paal. I will have my wife transfer the them to you."

"I would be happy to look them over." Sa'lak bowed in response and joined two other Vulcan ambassadors near a small display of previous Federation seals. Perrin watched him for a bit while picking few low notes like on a guitar. She laughed quietly and rejoined her group on stage.

The hall's lights dimmed. Perrin and her group shifted their instruments to a playing position.

"Before the President arrives, we would like to start off the night with a favorite of his, 'None but the Lonely Heart.'" Giving a thumbs up to the quartet after speaking, the Starfleet officer from earlier had now gathered together most of the attendants around the stage. As he stepped down off the raised stage to let the quartet start, the officer tripped into one of the waiters. The cellist raised off his chair enough for the officer to notice. "Just start." He muttered and was pulled up by the waiter. Everyone settled back in and the song began.

Sarek noted the song she'd played in the kitchen of Tau Ceti improved greatly from a group setting. The harmony of Perrin and the second violinist added to the sense of restrained emotion. The other two held back for most of the song, the cello only rising above the others for its solo towards the middle of the song.

As he listened, Perrin glanced over the crowd, finally seeing Sarek towards her left. Her eyes locked onto his before she took a breath and looked back towards crowd.

Not till the end did Sarek note the President entering the room under the cover of the concert. He was already at the podium clapping along with the others when the song was over when the rest of the room became aware. Sarek saw that a private audience might be needed to discuss his proposal; the President gave no opening for a casual meeting.

His speech addressed some of the main concerns of the crowds, though no specifics were offered on the Ferenginar incident. Tim Valor stood to his right. Valor remained there, even when the President left, guarded by several close advisors from further questions. Speaking to Valor would be the fastest way to have his concerns reach the President, Sarek mused. Sarek looked back at the stage mostly in the course of searching for his Ti'vak, half-recognizing the tune they picked up after the speech. Perrin looked back in his direction, a bit beyond his shoulder, then focused intently on her playing. Suddenly she seemed to crawl behind the others. They noticed, the other violinist gabbing her bow into Perrin's jaw as she pulled it across the strings. It took a few more beats, but Perrin's playing caught up to the group. Sarek turned his head. Beyond him was Tim Valor, still where he was but discussing the speech with a councilmember.

"Now I'm not one to skirt the rules; I'll have to reprimand myself." He teased the councilmember.