First retiring to their bedrooms, Aron would sit sat down on at his personal computer while B'Elanna took a shower, getting rid of the dirt she almost always collected.
They would dressed for dinner, their wardrobe dependeding on who would be tonight's guest. While dressing, both would watched the day's newsreels.
Some days they ate out, and other times it was just her and Aron, their father running late or attending some official function. There were few days that she ate alone, but it was rare that they had nights' like these, when dinner was just the three of them, just family.
Or so she thought.
There were two voices coming out of the library, one of her father, and one that was fast becoming familiar as of late.
"Aha, I told you that you should have called," Aron snickered as they came down. "I bet he came looking for you at the tracks and panicked when you weren't there."
She shoved her brother, pretending to be annoyed while running a hand to smooth her hair. She knew it would be fine, that it should be fine, she'd just looked at it five minutes ago. She even took an experimental sniff at herself, knowing that he could smell the distinction between warp plasma and bike lubricant that always clung to her.
"You'll be fine," Aron whispered. "If he suspects, I'll tell them that you gave me a crash course in shuttle repair at the air base."
"He's probably been to the air base," she muttered.
"Then we'll tell him that it's still none of his business." hHe smiled, before entering the library.
Their father stood up first.
Even at 83, Aman V'On Ghetti was an imposing man. He was in good form for someone his age, his eyes still bright and the ripples on his forehead—which tended to smoothen in old age—was still very much noticeable. His bearing, ever regal, softened at the sight of his children.
"We were beginning to think that you'd gotten lost on the way over here," he remarked, walking over to his eldest.
"B'Elanna took her time dressing up for dinner. I had to wait for her to make sure she'd even make it down," Aronhe joked, taking both his father's hands and then—palms up-brought themit up to his forehead, a Maltan gesture of respect for their elders.
Aman laughed, but it was the man behind him who looked more than pleased with the answer.
B'Elanna resisted the urge to deck her brother and moved to take her father's hands. "My bike needed some fine tuning today, and I decided to do the modifications myself. I didn't want to smell like engine coolant after nearly five days of not seeing you."
"But I'm here tonight," he answered affectionately. "The Terrillians are having their annual Three Moon Festival today. They asked if we could end the meeting early."
As if on cue, he turned to his right just as the man lingering in the background—watching this rare family interplay-stepped upfront.
"And since we had some time to spare, look whoat I brought home with me"
"Jakobian," Aron greeted, shaking hands with his cousin briefly before watching him move on to his sister.
One would think that the two never saw each other.
"B'Elanna," he smiled, walking right to her and placing his hands on her slim waist.
Her arms went right around his neck as she returned his hug. "Evening, Jake"
Aron was amused while their father looked on with a watchful eye, mindful of the growing interaction. Jakobian had already expressed his interest towards his daughter but had not yet hinted a proposal, though he suspected that this was due more to B'Elanna than to his nephew.
After giving B'Elanna a peck on the cheek, the two separated, and the party adjourned to the dining room.
The conversation centered mostly on recent events—particularly the trade negotiations her father was making with the Generran governor and how Aron was fairing as his temporary representative in the Local Council.
B'Elanna tuned most of it out.
She never really cared much for politics. Just because she lived with it, it didn't mean that she had to like it. She got what she needed to know from listening to Aron and watched the rest of it on newsreels. It was bad enough that she had to try to know these things, when all she wanted to do was to sit down with some shuttle modifications…
She felt a sharp kick on her shin, making her wince and glare at her brother.
"B'Elanna!"
She looked to the head of the table and blurted out, "Yes, Captain?"
The table was silent as they all processed what she had just said, not quite knowing what to say.
At last, Aman seemed to recover and merely laughed.
"I've been called various honorifics but I don't think I've been called Captain before," he said. "I asked how things were with the shuttle. Someone at the meeting today asked about my daughter's "pet project". He mentioned that it was so brilliant that it might just add it to our fleet as a scout."
For a moment, B'Elanna was a bit lost on what he was talking about, and Aron was quick to the rescue.
"I just saw the Argo today father and they're right: she is brilliant."
"Yes," she answered. "Yes she is, she'll be the best there is, father. Warp 7.5, a new array of weapons and multi-phasic shielding. There's more of course, but you're just going to have to see it when she goes out to do her best."
Aron smirked, and Jake balked at her obvious candor. Aman merely beamed with pride.
"Then I guess I can't wait."
After dinner, father and son left B'Elanna to say goodbye to Jake.
They had gone to Aman's study, which had a balcony with a great view of city. This was where the two of them usually talked: about business, about strategies, current affairs, family, Aron's mother. Though tonight, it was about B'Elanna.
"How is that ship of hers?" Aman asked his son.
"Which one?"
"The one that we're not supposed to talk about" he answered.
Aron took a nice long sip of his brandy and smiled.
"It's pretty impressive, better than the Argo. I can assure you that, though she hasn't named her yet."
"Give her time. It took her months to name the Argo, a ship so close to her heart should take longer for her to decide. What is she calling it?"
"Ship," he said. "We just call her 'Ship'"
Aman nodded his approval, though his face turned to that of concern.
"How is she, Aron?. I know she's been having difficulties lately-"
"She's fine, as well as can be expected," he cut immediately, and then hesitated, this was his father he was talking to.
"The ship is helping her cope. I won't lie to you father, she's had some difficult moments, but she's fine, considering her previous condition. Mostly she just works on her Ship. There have been some instances that she runs off on her own, but I think it's mostly because she just wants some time to herself, maybe even get away from Jakobian."
This time, Aman gave a snort.
"He is persistent, isn't he?"
"Father, she placed a dampening field around the hanger. The only reason I found her is because she left me clues as to the places that I might find her, and she only told me for safety reasons. It took me three hours just to figure themings out."
They both laughed.
"Jacobian can be an intense young man," Aman said. "B'Elanna likes him, she's just setting her bounds."
"Yes, he is a suitable man for our B'Elanna," he mentioned, somewhat sarcastic.
Though he liked his cousin and got along well with him, there was something about the relationship that Aron didn't like.
Maybe this is how all big brothers feelare like, he thought.
He'd never been an elder brother, and certainly not to a younger sister. His brother had died in the same shuttle accident as his mother. It may have been twenty years ago, and Aron was only nine at the time, but he felt the loss of both his mother and the protection of his older brother.
Kaleb was ten years older than he was and looked after him, just like he was looking after B'Elanna.
There was just so much about her that fascinated him. Most of the Maltan women he knew were reserved, almost docile. And though he didn't entirely object to their breeding, there was something refreshing about his sister's fiery demeanor that he wanted to preserve.
The way she spoke her mind and her courage to try new things, dangerous things, . Her devotion to her family—to him and most especially to his father, how she always gravitated to him when he was there.
Even when she was irritatingly short- tempered, Aron didn't mind putting up with her.
His sister's temper was also fast becoming popular in the tracks. Her search for perfection in her engines drove her—and some others—to do double the hard work. She was frustrated easily, angered easily.
He didn't know if this was due to her brain injury, or simply her nature: she just had less patience than everyone else, though he commended her efforts to curb her temper. There were few occasions where she threw some things in anger, but she never truly became violent. Though with the stress in which his sister often placed herself in, he could understand some broken crockery-not to mention a fractured jaw from one persistent suitor or two.
There were certainly a lot of men who were interested in her when she had first been introduced, but somehow she had chosen "Jake".
AronHe had nothing against Jakobian. They'd grown up together, shared the same tutors, played the same sports, shared the same ideologies and respected one another. He was a bright young man, certainly handsome, and was one of Malta's leading fighter pilots.
But just like Aron, he was brought up to answer to his family's traditions. Although they'd never competed with each other, he knew that Jake was looking for a wife who could rise to the challenges of their upbringing.
And though B'Elanna was doing well integrating herself to their family and to their culture, Aron didn't like the way their relationship was changing her.
Already she'd become more subdued, almost…submissive when she was with Jake. Worste of all, she seemed to like it. To contain herself, when she was with Jake. Perhaps she wanted to please him—maybe too much.
Or it could just be circumstances.
His sister was following a very difficult time frame, and working on two shuttles andwhile racing was not helping her situation.
"Still, I think Jakobian could do with someone like our B'Elanna. Her brevity will match his strong will." Aman explained "Jakob may be brilliant but he can be an ass—much like how his father was."
There was a round of laughter as they both drank to that.
B'Elanna waited until Jake was on his transport before closing the door and running towards her room.
So many things to do…
The incident at dinner alarmed her.
Captain? Where did that come from? Was she a soldier? If so, for whom? And what did she do and where did she work? If she workedit was on a station, then her planet would be more than a few solar systems than here.
But do you really want to find them?
If they were nearby, then surely they would have come to find her. Malta was a hard planet to miss, settled in one of the busiest parts of the quadrant.
Thinking about home, made her feel lost and, like she was far away.
She'd made a good life here, with a family who loved her, friends who cared about her, and the freedom to do whatever she wanted, like build shuttles and race.
But no matter how many times she avoided the issue, the question still remained:
Who am I?
It didn't help that the memories that she seemed to have didn't make any sense.
Tonight, as she was walking in the gardens with Jake, she looked up into his eyes and found herself thinking that it was…wrong.
Jake's eyes were a deep green that shone with affection, but all she could think about was that it was wrong.
I remember flashes of ice. Of fire burning eyes, which shone like the core when in passion or angered, only to dissolve into a gentle flame…
Then the only thing I would see is love and an intense hunger…
B'Elanna had immediately told him that she was tired. That she'd had a long day and she needed to get up to early to finish her work with the Argo.
Jake had smiled at her, leaned down to kiss her cheek, and told her he'd drop by tomorrow to see her at the shuttlebay.
She sighed.
Moving to her terminal, she opened a new file and attempted to write some of things that she remembered.
His laughter singing in her ears, lighting his eyes the color of the sky, darkening as he looked at her in wont and hunger…
B'Elanna blinked, her hand shaking near the monitor.
"What was that?" she thought.
Or rather, who was that?
Her heart was hammering in her chest, blood pounding in her ears like a million drums announcing something that she could not comprehend.
She jumped on her seat and started pacing the room, attempting to walk off this sudden bout of restlessness. Her hands itched to throw something, break something…anything to get rid of this…Longing that she felt from within her. To touch, to feel…
His skin, warm beneath her questing hands. The scent of him making her head swim, igniting her passion, sated only by the sweet taste of his blood…
Could almost feel his touches, have his scent, hear a longing in a voice that she struggled to remember…
Gha'ycha!" she screamed in frustration, her hand knocking of a vase on her bedside table.
Why can't I just see his face?