The Adventures of Molly O'Brien, 1998
[email protected]
NOTES: Based on the characters and settings featured in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. This story is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.
This story takes place in the future, when Molly is a little older.
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Molly O'Brien bit at her lip with intense concentration as she worked on her crayon masterpiece. After one last stroke of lemon yellow, she rose and carefully tucked the paper under her arm. With the aid of a dining room chair, she posted her work high on the wall-safe from her younger brother's destructive hands. Then, Molly stepped back to get a better look.
"What's that?" a voice asked from behind. Molly turned around and saw her father standing behind her. Miles squinted at the picture while sipping a mug full of steaming black liquid. Molly couldn't remember the name of the drink, but was sure that it was something Klingon.
"It's Bajor," she answered bluntly.
"And what's that yellow thing above it?" Miles asked, stepping forward to get a closer look.
"The sun."
Molly rolled her eyes. "Dad's a great engineer," she thought, "But he doesn't know a thing about art."
"Oh, I get it!" Miles exclaimed sheepishly. "You know it's been so long since I've seen the sun, I've forgotten what it looks like."
Miles chuckled to himself and took a seat at the dining room table. Dozens of data padds were scattered about. Molly ran to his side and began sifting through his work.
"Why don't you let me help you?" she asked cheerfully while attempting to read. "I'm sure I'd do a good job realigning those annal-phass-ic con-fine-ment beams." Miles quickly pulled the padd from her hands.
"I don't think you'd find that very interesting," he insisted. In the past, Miles thought it was cute that his "little engineer" wanted to help. He considered it a sign of great potential. But now, Molly was ten years old, and his "little engineer" was no longer satisfied with counting cases of old isolinear chips. The week before, Molly managed to get her hands on a tricorder he was repairing for Doctor Bashir. By the time he realized it, a sophisticated piece of Starfleet technology lay in a hopeless jumble beneath her bed.
Molly sighed, then hung her head in disappointment. "That's ok," she whispered sadly. "I guess I'll just go sit in my room." She slowly walked past her father, eyes glancing at him pathetically the whole time.
The girl looked as if she were being sent on a Cardassian death march. Miles felt like a villain. He knew how hard it was for her, growing up on a remote space station with only an "annoying" little brother to play with. This weekend, she didn't even have him--Kirayoshi had gone with Keiko on a Bajoran botany expedition.
After a few minutes, Miles sighed and put his cup of raktegeno down. Keiko would probably kill him for what he was about to do, but he couldn't stand to see his girl like this.
"Molly," he called out. "What are you doing?"
"Counting the stars," a weak little voice responded. "Oh, no-I'll have to start all over." Now Miles was the one rolling his eyes.
"Molly--would you like to go out on the Promenade?"
"Who's going to take me?" the weak little voice responded. "Mom's not here, and you're busy."
"I realize that." Miles responded. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go by yourself today."
A pigtailed head slowly peeked around the corner. "You're going to let ME go out THERE by myself?" she replied in disbelief. Miles noticed her voice suddenly becoming stronger.
Miles nodded. "I think you're old enough." Molly eased back into the room as her father reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, official-looking card. On the front, she could see her name followed by the Bajoran and Federation seals.
"It's a debit account." Miles explained. "I have one and so does your mother. Every week from now on, you'll be getting an allowance from us. You can save the money or spend it as you see fit. Just remember, this account is your responsibility.
Understand?"
Molly shook her head eagerly as her father placed the card into her hands. It was a dream come true, a first step into the adult universe. Molly secretly wondered how many credits it would take to buy a shuttle.
Miles had to grab Molly's arm to stop her from bolting from the room.
"And one more thing," he said before letting her go. "I want you back here in two hours."
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It was a pretty slow day on DS-9. However, the lack of activity didn't dampen Molly's enthusiasm one bit. In one hour's time, Molly purchased a ball (guaranteed to bounce forever) and consumed not one--but two sugary jumja sticks. She decided to spend her last hour touring the station. The very first thing that caught her eye was Quark's. "This place must really be fun," Molly thought as she saw the bright lights and activity. "Dad says it's a place where people drink and play games, and Mom says that's where Dad always goes instead of coming straight home after work."
Molly skipped through the entrance, and plopped herself down at a stool between two Bajoran officers. The girl smiled and waved at them both as they quickly left. They didn't look too happy. "Maybe they needed to get home to their families," she thought.
Looking across the bar, Molly spotted a short man with big ears wearing a brightly colored suit. At first she thought it was a clown, but clowns don't pour drinks. When Quark saw Molly staring at him, the barkeep nearly dropped a bottle of very expensive 200-year-old Earth brandy.
"Little girl," he gasped. "What are you doing in here?"
"I'd like a drink please," Molly answered cheerfully. "I ate two jumja sticks, and they're really starting to make me thirsty."
Quark looked at her in disbelief. "I could lose my license if anyone sees you in here," he replied firmly. "This is a bar, not a daycare facility."
"I'm ten years old," Molly stated proudly. "I don't need a babysitter. I need a drink, and I can pay." She took out her debit card, and slid it towards him. Quark read the name on the front and quickly slid it back. He wasn't quite sure what to do. This was Molly O'Brien -- daughter of Chief Miles Edward O'Brien -- champion darts player and premier holosuite gamer. Next to Morn, the Chief was his best customer. If he serves her, Daddy could get really mad. Worse yet, Quark could really get hurt. But then, if he refuses to serve her, Daddy could still get mad and Quark could get hurt anyway. The barkeep decided to err on the side of profit -- however small.
"One glass of milk it is-on ice."
Two and a half glasses later, Molly finally stopped. "She certainly drinks like her father," Quark thought to himself. Suddenly, the sound of a million voices crying "DABO!" filled the room. Molly turned around, and saw a group of happy people with gold bars in their hands.
"What are those people doing?" she asked.
"Winning," Quark replied miserably.
"Winning what?"
"Dabo. It's a game," Quark explained.
"It looks like fun," Molly replied. "Can I play?"
Quark could barely keep himself from laughing. "As much as I could use your money," Quark said. "I think you'd better stick to playing ball for now."
Molly shrugged and took one last gulp of milk. "Well, I really must be going. I only wish I had more time to try all your neat-looking games." With a reassuring smile, she slid off the bar stool, picked up her ball, and headed towards the exit. Quark was glad to see her go. Though Molly had been one of his more well-mannered customers, something about her made him terribly nervous.
Meanwhile, Major Kira had just gotten off duty, and was headed to her quarters. As she passed Quark's, she thought she heard a familiar little voice shout "DABO!" She paused, then shook her head in disbelief. "Nah -- couldn't be." Seconds later, the voice was followed by a steady stream of cheers. From a distance, Kira saw Molly O'Brien emerge from the bar. Molly looked back, and waved at the people inside before happily skipping down the opposite end of the Promenade.
Kira clenched her teeth in disgust. The Major walked into Quark's -- and happily skipped all over him.
THE END
[email protected]
NOTES: Based on the characters and settings featured in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. This story is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.
This story takes place in the future, when Molly is a little older.
----------
Molly O'Brien bit at her lip with intense concentration as she worked on her crayon masterpiece. After one last stroke of lemon yellow, she rose and carefully tucked the paper under her arm. With the aid of a dining room chair, she posted her work high on the wall-safe from her younger brother's destructive hands. Then, Molly stepped back to get a better look.
"What's that?" a voice asked from behind. Molly turned around and saw her father standing behind her. Miles squinted at the picture while sipping a mug full of steaming black liquid. Molly couldn't remember the name of the drink, but was sure that it was something Klingon.
"It's Bajor," she answered bluntly.
"And what's that yellow thing above it?" Miles asked, stepping forward to get a closer look.
"The sun."
Molly rolled her eyes. "Dad's a great engineer," she thought, "But he doesn't know a thing about art."
"Oh, I get it!" Miles exclaimed sheepishly. "You know it's been so long since I've seen the sun, I've forgotten what it looks like."
Miles chuckled to himself and took a seat at the dining room table. Dozens of data padds were scattered about. Molly ran to his side and began sifting through his work.
"Why don't you let me help you?" she asked cheerfully while attempting to read. "I'm sure I'd do a good job realigning those annal-phass-ic con-fine-ment beams." Miles quickly pulled the padd from her hands.
"I don't think you'd find that very interesting," he insisted. In the past, Miles thought it was cute that his "little engineer" wanted to help. He considered it a sign of great potential. But now, Molly was ten years old, and his "little engineer" was no longer satisfied with counting cases of old isolinear chips. The week before, Molly managed to get her hands on a tricorder he was repairing for Doctor Bashir. By the time he realized it, a sophisticated piece of Starfleet technology lay in a hopeless jumble beneath her bed.
Molly sighed, then hung her head in disappointment. "That's ok," she whispered sadly. "I guess I'll just go sit in my room." She slowly walked past her father, eyes glancing at him pathetically the whole time.
The girl looked as if she were being sent on a Cardassian death march. Miles felt like a villain. He knew how hard it was for her, growing up on a remote space station with only an "annoying" little brother to play with. This weekend, she didn't even have him--Kirayoshi had gone with Keiko on a Bajoran botany expedition.
After a few minutes, Miles sighed and put his cup of raktegeno down. Keiko would probably kill him for what he was about to do, but he couldn't stand to see his girl like this.
"Molly," he called out. "What are you doing?"
"Counting the stars," a weak little voice responded. "Oh, no-I'll have to start all over." Now Miles was the one rolling his eyes.
"Molly--would you like to go out on the Promenade?"
"Who's going to take me?" the weak little voice responded. "Mom's not here, and you're busy."
"I realize that." Miles responded. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go by yourself today."
A pigtailed head slowly peeked around the corner. "You're going to let ME go out THERE by myself?" she replied in disbelief. Miles noticed her voice suddenly becoming stronger.
Miles nodded. "I think you're old enough." Molly eased back into the room as her father reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, official-looking card. On the front, she could see her name followed by the Bajoran and Federation seals.
"It's a debit account." Miles explained. "I have one and so does your mother. Every week from now on, you'll be getting an allowance from us. You can save the money or spend it as you see fit. Just remember, this account is your responsibility.
Understand?"
Molly shook her head eagerly as her father placed the card into her hands. It was a dream come true, a first step into the adult universe. Molly secretly wondered how many credits it would take to buy a shuttle.
Miles had to grab Molly's arm to stop her from bolting from the room.
"And one more thing," he said before letting her go. "I want you back here in two hours."
----------
It was a pretty slow day on DS-9. However, the lack of activity didn't dampen Molly's enthusiasm one bit. In one hour's time, Molly purchased a ball (guaranteed to bounce forever) and consumed not one--but two sugary jumja sticks. She decided to spend her last hour touring the station. The very first thing that caught her eye was Quark's. "This place must really be fun," Molly thought as she saw the bright lights and activity. "Dad says it's a place where people drink and play games, and Mom says that's where Dad always goes instead of coming straight home after work."
Molly skipped through the entrance, and plopped herself down at a stool between two Bajoran officers. The girl smiled and waved at them both as they quickly left. They didn't look too happy. "Maybe they needed to get home to their families," she thought.
Looking across the bar, Molly spotted a short man with big ears wearing a brightly colored suit. At first she thought it was a clown, but clowns don't pour drinks. When Quark saw Molly staring at him, the barkeep nearly dropped a bottle of very expensive 200-year-old Earth brandy.
"Little girl," he gasped. "What are you doing in here?"
"I'd like a drink please," Molly answered cheerfully. "I ate two jumja sticks, and they're really starting to make me thirsty."
Quark looked at her in disbelief. "I could lose my license if anyone sees you in here," he replied firmly. "This is a bar, not a daycare facility."
"I'm ten years old," Molly stated proudly. "I don't need a babysitter. I need a drink, and I can pay." She took out her debit card, and slid it towards him. Quark read the name on the front and quickly slid it back. He wasn't quite sure what to do. This was Molly O'Brien -- daughter of Chief Miles Edward O'Brien -- champion darts player and premier holosuite gamer. Next to Morn, the Chief was his best customer. If he serves her, Daddy could get really mad. Worse yet, Quark could really get hurt. But then, if he refuses to serve her, Daddy could still get mad and Quark could get hurt anyway. The barkeep decided to err on the side of profit -- however small.
"One glass of milk it is-on ice."
Two and a half glasses later, Molly finally stopped. "She certainly drinks like her father," Quark thought to himself. Suddenly, the sound of a million voices crying "DABO!" filled the room. Molly turned around, and saw a group of happy people with gold bars in their hands.
"What are those people doing?" she asked.
"Winning," Quark replied miserably.
"Winning what?"
"Dabo. It's a game," Quark explained.
"It looks like fun," Molly replied. "Can I play?"
Quark could barely keep himself from laughing. "As much as I could use your money," Quark said. "I think you'd better stick to playing ball for now."
Molly shrugged and took one last gulp of milk. "Well, I really must be going. I only wish I had more time to try all your neat-looking games." With a reassuring smile, she slid off the bar stool, picked up her ball, and headed towards the exit. Quark was glad to see her go. Though Molly had been one of his more well-mannered customers, something about her made him terribly nervous.
Meanwhile, Major Kira had just gotten off duty, and was headed to her quarters. As she passed Quark's, she thought she heard a familiar little voice shout "DABO!" She paused, then shook her head in disbelief. "Nah -- couldn't be." Seconds later, the voice was followed by a steady stream of cheers. From a distance, Kira saw Molly O'Brien emerge from the bar. Molly looked back, and waved at the people inside before happily skipping down the opposite end of the Promenade.
Kira clenched her teeth in disgust. The Major walked into Quark's -- and happily skipped all over him.
THE END