"Ah, Lieutenant Karnth! This is just unrecognizable!" Weston's booming voice made Karnth wince, nearly jumping in surprise. She glanced back from the stage as it received its finishing touches; Commodore Weston looked around him in awe. Bright lights shined in beautifully cleaned candelabra on dark wood tables lining the walls, covered with gorgeous cloths. Tapestries of green and red hung from the ceiling between window, embroidered with geometric and floral designs, ending in golden tassels. Throughout the room round tables draped in white linen were spread around, surrounded by dark wood chairs, their tabletops graced with beautiful china, silverware, glassware and floral centerpieces. Instruments were set up by stage for dinner entertainment, harps and other string instruments. The stage had a long table covered in white linen, its top decorated just as the round tables, with smaller floral centerpieces spread up and down the table. There representatives of the Federation Council and the delegation from Lankare would eat in celebration. Overhead, the old tarnished chandeliers were clean and shining brightly. Upstairs, Karnth knew all the rooms and bathrooms were fully cleaned, bed sheets freshly laundered. Mentally Karnth shook her head. All this, for one night. But I did a damn good job.

Weston seemed to think the same thing. "What you did with this old house is just incredible Karnth." He smiled at her, to which Karnth could not help but return, though it was a little forced. Her body and mind were tired after all the planning and coordinating. Since one in the morning. "Pretty sure that Chancellor will be more inclined to come back to his ancestral home." Weston grinned widely.

Karnth smiled. "It will be nice if more than one night's use is made of all this. Has the security detail beamed down?"

Weston nodded. He was a portly man, with white hair and a balding crown. "They've just finished. I know you were only temporarily assigned to me, but I must say it was a pleasure working with you. I don't know if I've ever had a more competent yeoman."

Karnth's cheeks flushed a faint blue. Weston was usually a gruff man. To be so free with praise sent embarrassed pleasure through Karnth. She brushed her foolish embarrassment aside. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot."

Weston smiled. "Kirk's lucky. Now go. Report for duty and get some rest."

Karnth breathed deeply, and nodding to Weston, walked out.

*****

Karnth opened her eyes as she finished materializing to see Enterprise's First Officer at the transporter console. She felt her lips turn up in a small smile. "Permission to come aboard, sir?"

Spock raised a dark eyebrow. "Permission granted. If you will step off the transporter pad, I shall bring up your luggage."

Karnth reined in her mirth. "Yes, sir."

Spock looked up as she stepped off the pad. "Is there something you find amusing, Lieutenant?" He turned his attention back to transporting her luggage.

"Indeed, Commander." Karnth's face smoothed. "'How the mighty have fallen'." She looked up into Spock's eyes, remembering a time when their positions were switched. It was a bittersweet memory, cutting through her. That is lost now. Karnth closed her eyes against the pain. It sometimes came unbidden, and was all the harder to dismiss. Breathing deeply she looked up. "Forgive my display. I had thought I was over this. It's been awhile."

Spock slowly shook his head. "There is forgiveness needed. But it is not you who should apologize to me."

Karnth looked at Spock. Just looked at him, remembering. She smiled. "I see I am not the only one not over it."

Spock flicked an eyebrow before transporting her luggage. "Does the record tape you gave Captain Kirk reveal that?" His fingers deftly recalibrated the transporter.

Karnth looked at Spock's hands in puzzlement. "No," she replied absentmindedly. What is he doing? "You haven't read it, sir?"

"Unnecessary, as I already know your career history."

Karnth realized he was setting the transporter, but could not understand why. Glancing over to make sure, Karnth reassured herself that all her luggage was there. Suddenly her luggage disappeared.

"Sir?" Karnth stared at the empty space before turning to the Vulcan. If he wore an expression Karnth would call it supremely unconcerned. If.

"Your luggage is awaiting you in your quarters. If you'll follow me?" Spock stepped towards Karnth, handing her a datadisk. "Here are your general responsibilities about this ship."

"Thank you!" Karnth beamed. "That's quite a blessing after the day I've had, believe me." She smiled on her friend.

Spock looked at her as they passed through the doors into the corridor. "I am pleased you relish your responsibilities to such an extent, Lieutenant."

Karnth laughed, a silver tinkling, bright eyes filled with humor as she looked at the stoic Vulcan to her left. She ignored the staring crewmembers they passed. "Not the datadisk! Transporting my belongings. I would believe that to be obvious."

The turbolift doors opened for them. Spock's eyes had the barest hint of warmth as he glanced at her. "Indeed. Deck five."

******

Karnth shook her wet hair, feeling much refreshed after a forty-five minute powernap and a sonic shower. When she first arrived at Earth sixty years ago in a small, sleek, one-man vessel, the notion of powernaps was a foreign thing – they did not have such naps on Niona, her home world. People did not need such naps. Then again, life on Terra (Earth, she mentally corrected herself) was more hectic than life on Niona, and furthering her attempt to immerse herself in Earth's culture, as per orders, she started taking these "powernaps" and was immediately surprised at the energizing results. More positive than some of her other attempts to immerse herself in Earth cultures, such as native inebriating drinks. It was when Karnth was sitting in a tattoo artist's chair after only a week of living on Earth that she was taken under the wing of a certain gifted Vulcan ambassador, Sarek of Vulcan.

Karnth shook herself out of her reverie as she tightened her towel around herself, picking up her datadisk and sliding it into the computer. "Computer," she commanded, passing from her living room into her bedroom. "Recite information on datadisk."

"Acknowledged," the computer's calm voice answered, and began informing Karnth of her duties. She noted them as she went through her clothing. Organize yeoman personnel in various departments…monitor and ensure Captain receives necessary reports…secretarial duties…personal assistant to accompany Captain on landing parties and assignments.

Karnth shook out her dress uniform. It was a pretty thing, red with black neck hemming and gold trim. It looked like a wrap-around dress, its skirt flowing to lower-thigh. Its modesty was made-up for with the cleavage it would reveal. Karnth shook her head at the fashion. You don't see male dress uniforms show so much.

Putting on her clothing, fixing the few medals left to her on its front, she slipped on her black high heels and set her computer to play music. Karnth enjoyed the harps of Vulcan, critically examining her appearance.

I'm bored with brown hair, she decided, musing to her reflection. Karnth's natural hair matcher her nails and bones in color – silver. Half of her people had her hair color, shining bright as the metal, the metal which was the base of her blood. While all of her people's blood was silver-based, not all of them had silver hair and nails. Usually, only those pale Nionans from the North did. The Southern Nionans had dark skin and golden hair, bones, and nails, with yellow eyes. The evolutionists on her planet long ago discovered their coloring was so different to deflect the sun and keep cool.

When Karnth arrived in the space of the Federation she was shocked at the myriad of colors in eyes and hair, the naked nails. But that was the reason distant Niona sent its child to the Federation – to learn of the those new and different people and share her knowledge. Everyday Karnth was exposed to something new, and every night, as Karnth would mind-link with those on her home world, she shared everything, good and bad.

Bad, like the fear and aversion her ethereal appearance evoked in some people she crossed paths with. It always saddened her in the beginning, until Sarek of Vulcan helped her to come to terms with it. From then on, in an attempt to put others at ease, and for the novelty, she used her metamorph abilities to change the color of her hair.

Again, Karnth shook herself out of her memories, wondering at her nostalgic mood. Must be meeting up with Spock…so many memories there. Checking the chronometer, Karnth left her quarters at a trot. Passing all the senior officer's quarters, she left for the transporter room.

"I apologize for my lateness, sir," Karnth said quickly upon entering the room and seeing Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and who could only be Doctor McCoy in their dress uniforms waiting upon the transporter pad.

"That's quite alright, yeoman. After your day, I may be a little late too. This is the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. McCoy."

Karnth nodded at the man with bright blue eyes. He seemed a likeable sort. "Hello, sir."

McCoy smiled at her. "Hello, Yeoman. Don't worry, we'll get time to know each other at your physical tomorrow."

Karnth smiled in amusement, nodding. "I'm sure, sir."

Kirk smiled at everyone before turning to the Transporter Chief. "Beam us down, Yaxley."

"Aye, sir." Karnth watched her world dissolve around her, reappearing suddenly, no longer the sterile-looking transporter room, but instead the softly lit cobblestone courtyard. Karnth breathed in the clear, brisk air. As beautiful as the night was, she would be glad to leave this place for good without ever looking back.

A black curl fell in her gray eyes, and Karnth flicked it away. She liked the slightly feral, crazed look she had chosen for her hairstyle – deep black hair, delicately shaped into dozens of loose, wire-like curls framing her face and ending at various lengths between her cheekbones and jaw line. The inky blackness was matched in her eyebrows and lashes.

She followed her captain as he led them into the Great Hall, eyes everywhere, looking for a potential mishap. It took a moment before she remembered her responsibilities for the night's festivities had ended. She smiled, relaxing and letting herself enjoy the atmosphere.

Ambassadors, dignitaries and high-ranking officials were everywhere, mingling, talking and laughing as music played in the background. Her keen ears could pick up snippets of conversation. An Andorian delegate was deep in discussion with an Argellian over nature preservation in the face of mining. A group of Vulcans, humans and Tellurites were engaged in a philosophical debate of some sort.

Karnth saw Starfleet officials engaged in talks with an official from the Ketkan group, a relatively newly admitted species closely resembling a cross between lizards and birds. Ketkans had a delicate frame covered in bead-like skin. Their eyes were like those of a hawk, their face pointed into a beak. Karnth remembered the beginning of negotiations from her days of ambassadorship, talks with them dragging out over ideological conflicts of equality. The Federation staunchly advocates equality for all sentient beings, but the Ketken peoples had strong bigoted feelings. In the end though everything was settled. At least she had heard that; by that time she was entering Starfleet Academy.

At the high table she was the Lantaren party, the skittish people for whom all this trouble was for. Some of the Lantarens still looked around jumpily; the Head Ambassador, though, Jetla, looked at ease as he discussed something with Commodore Weston. The Lantarens closely resembled fish, purplish skin iridescent with scales, not hair, with black eyes. Their robes were in various shades of blue and green, floaty and bringing images of beaches to Karnth's mind. Ironic. Jewelry and accessories were in bright colors across the spectrum like those of the coral reefs of her world's warm oceans to the South.

Kirk led his people to a half-filled table, taking up the rest of the seats. Already seated were two Andorian scientists and a human diplomat, junior grade. Soon, everyone but Karnth was engaged in conversation about the latest scientific and space discoveries. Karnth internally relaxed, a peaceful smile on her face. Opening her mind she reached out to feel the emotions flowing through the air without effort. Karnth let the emotions come to her, not noticing her captain looking at her with a quizzical look on his face until he spoke, drawing her back to their table.

"It's funny Lieutenant, but I could have sworn you had brown hair before," Kirk said.

Karnth smiled at him. "I did. I grew tired of it."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. Karnth merely smiled at him before focusing on a blond across the room over Kirk's shoulder. She concentrated on the blond locks, and did not see her tablemate's surprise (with the exception of Spock) as the gray irises of her eyes glowed a soft silver, or the shock as a few of her curls began turning blond, brightly dispersed among all the black. Closing her eyes she stopped, opening them to reveal gray, black-rimmed irises again. Laughing at the looks on their faces she informed her dinner mates, "Those of my home world, Niona, have metamorph abilities. Theorists speculate it was to be able to camouflage in case of danger."

Questions came from all sides – how extensive were the metamorph abilities? How was it done? Karnth was just beginning to explain the Nionan control over their personal DNA when Commodore Weston stood.

Karnth cued out Weston's words. She had heard enough of those speeches to know exactly what he was saying. Honor…opening horizons…greater galactic unity and strength… Instead Karnth rode the emotion waves coursing through the room. It always put her at ease to do this, sense and ride the emotions of others. On Niona, this was done without thought, and created a feeling of such intimacy. It was impossible not to feel close when they shared so much. That was another shock when she came to the Federation – the lonliness. She was thankful then, for her empathic abilities, when she arrived on Earth, and Felt everyone around her, though they did not reach back, not even her telepathic Vulcan mentor in the art of diplomacy, Sarek. Even though she had this, it still went against everything she knew. She often found herself wondering how all these species could live so…alone.

A sudden, negative note sounded through Karnth's mind, eliciting a quiet gasp. It was like a discordant chord in an otherwise beautiful musical harmony. It was ugly, sucking at Karnth, tearing her away from her reality. Karnth's mind searched frantically for this sickness, this emotional rot. Anger…hatred…danger. Where? Karnth's mind flew everywhere. Almost…almost there.

As suddenly as it was there, the emotion was gone. Karnth's mind rushed in on itself, and Karnth forcibly became aware of her reality. Colors were too bright, sounds too clear. She could feel her cheeks filling with blood. It felt too warm, the air too thick. Opening her eyes she breathed deep, not noticing Kirk's golden-brown eyes on her.