Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: The Next Generation but I do own Crewman Brian Andrews and Rob. That's all I own, the rest belongs to Paramount and Gene Roddenberry.
Honor thy father
"I agree, my father was always nagging me about something. 'Have you cleaned your room?' 'Have you done your homework?'! No matter what was happening and no matter how hard I tried it was never good enough for him! I thought joining Starfleet would make him proud but he never seemed pleased about my choice."
A young Bajoran woman, sitting alone at a table in the corner of Ten Forward looked with narrowed eyes towards the two men who were talking together.
Her name was Ro Laren and she was the outcast onboard.
She was a survivor of the Occupation, had witnessed her father's murder at the hands of the Cardassians and she was an ex-convict.
She also had a hot temper and one of the things that annoyed her the most was people who were never thankful for their parents.
The cup she was holding shook just a little as her fist tightened around it and she tried to relax when the man continued his tirade, "Every time I was late for bed he always would yell, 'Brian Andrews, you were supposed to be in bed an hour ago!'"
His friend laughed and Andrews continued, "Thank goodness I haven't talked to him for three years. My mom keeps asking me to talk to him but what's to say?"
Ro had heard enough.
Pushing back her chair, she stalked over to the men's table, "Pardon me for interrupting but I couldn't help over-hearing your conversation and I do have something you could tell your father, crewman."
Andrews looked up at her and took a sip from his drink, "And what would that be?"
Ro's cheeks flushed just a little as her anger rose, "A lot. Tell him you're sorry about how you acted growing up and thank him for loving you enough to nag you about every thing! It would have been much easier for him to allow you to do what you wanted but he kept on you and formed you into the man you are. I guarantee you that you wouldn't be in the uniform you're wearing expect for the lessons he taught you early."
Andrew's opened his mouth to argue but Ro hadn't finished speaking, "You don't realize how good you have it. Your father is still alive and you can still talk to him. If I were you, I'd think about how lucky you are and not sit around feeling sorry for yourself because your daddy wasn't always nice." Ro snapped as she turned on her heel, heading towards the doors on the other side of the room.
Staring blankly at the cup in his hand, Andrews set it gently on the table.
"What's up Brian?" his friend asked.
Andrew's looked at his hands, a guilty expression beginning to cover his face, "She's right Rob, I never once told my dad 'thank you' for all the things he'd done for me over my entire life. The only thanks he ever got in return was having to fight with me over every stupid little thing."
Andrew's leaned back in his chair, "I always talk to people whose parents are dead and I always think, 'Boy, that's awful' but I never actually do anything to mend my own relationship with my folks."
He suddenly stood up from his chair, "Excuse me, I have to go call my dad."
Fin.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading my story. You can Read and Review if you like, I accept anonymous reviews, but Flames will be sent to Dukat who might like them. Thanks!