11-30-2024, 04:21 AM
Though hardly her favourite place aboard ship, the Deck Eight Lounge was one of the few places where Louise could go where attention had a central focus, namely not towards her. Since joining the Artemis crew, Louise had tried her best to stay out of the way; as a new addition to a crew which desperately needed a top-down psychiatric review, her position as Assistant Counsellor, not yet in possession of a doctorate, had made her something of a target for those who resented mandatory therapy sessions, especially with a mere Ensign. Professional discourtesy she could deal with, Starfleet seemed to revel in such an attitude, but it was the way people looked at her that bugged her the most. Her resemblance to her sister was almost identical, save for the tattoos, hair and eye colour, and meant that veteran members of the crew often did double-takes when they passed her in the corridors.
She had deliberately used her birth mother's name and excluded her father from her application and service record to prevent the "family name" affecting her service, but one couldn't ignore genetics or the reputation of her older and far more notorious sibling.
Unfortunately that association, or the desire to avoid it, had meant that she had not struck up much of a rapport with the other members of the crew, even the other non-MD therapists that made up the bulk of the Artemis' counselling department. Alex had warned her that becoming the ship loner would be more harmful than beneficial, especially as a therapist, as how could she expect anyone to open up to her if she wasn't open to them? As she watched her Department Head enjoy a lighthearted conversation with the Chief Medical Officer and a Tactical Midshipwoman Louise had seen in her graduating class, she felt a twinge of envy at how easy they all found it.
It was easy to blame her social ineptitude on being bounced from duty station to duty station as a child, or her conservative adolescence on New Kanto, but deep down she knew that she was simply afraid that she'd be found out and inevitably compared to her sister. Her sister the rock star. The war hero. Wherever she went on the Artemis, there were reminders of her sister; it was said that even the piano that Commander Mayfair had been playing had been one of her favourite instruments, and that she'd been the one to sneak it onto the Artemis rather than letting it gather dust as part of the Gettysburg museum.
On one hand, people act like she walked on water. On the other hand, people label her a dangerous renegade. To me, she's just "the favourite".
As she sipped her tea, Louise continued to observe the group enjoying their conversation; part of her wanted to wander over, nonchalantly introduce herself, and see if she'd be invited. Self-preservation kicked in, however, before she made the attempt; Miller and Maxas-Darl were newer additions to the Artemis crew and had not served with her sister, but Mayfair had; the more time she spent with the Augment, the more likely it was that she'd figure it out (if she hadn't already), and once that secret was out there was no bottling it back up again. Captain Crawford and Commander Morgan knowing was quite enough.
And so Louise went back to people watching, content to observe her new crew as they went about their business. Though she was not yet ready to try and enter someone else's social discussions, she knew she would have to eventually. Until then, she guessed she would just have to hope that someone would take pity on her and begin the interaction, or remain content to be the proverbial wallflower.
She had deliberately used her birth mother's name and excluded her father from her application and service record to prevent the "family name" affecting her service, but one couldn't ignore genetics or the reputation of her older and far more notorious sibling.
Unfortunately that association, or the desire to avoid it, had meant that she had not struck up much of a rapport with the other members of the crew, even the other non-MD therapists that made up the bulk of the Artemis' counselling department. Alex had warned her that becoming the ship loner would be more harmful than beneficial, especially as a therapist, as how could she expect anyone to open up to her if she wasn't open to them? As she watched her Department Head enjoy a lighthearted conversation with the Chief Medical Officer and a Tactical Midshipwoman Louise had seen in her graduating class, she felt a twinge of envy at how easy they all found it.
It was easy to blame her social ineptitude on being bounced from duty station to duty station as a child, or her conservative adolescence on New Kanto, but deep down she knew that she was simply afraid that she'd be found out and inevitably compared to her sister. Her sister the rock star. The war hero. Wherever she went on the Artemis, there were reminders of her sister; it was said that even the piano that Commander Mayfair had been playing had been one of her favourite instruments, and that she'd been the one to sneak it onto the Artemis rather than letting it gather dust as part of the Gettysburg museum.
On one hand, people act like she walked on water. On the other hand, people label her a dangerous renegade. To me, she's just "the favourite".
As she sipped her tea, Louise continued to observe the group enjoying their conversation; part of her wanted to wander over, nonchalantly introduce herself, and see if she'd be invited. Self-preservation kicked in, however, before she made the attempt; Miller and Maxas-Darl were newer additions to the Artemis crew and had not served with her sister, but Mayfair had; the more time she spent with the Augment, the more likely it was that she'd figure it out (if she hadn't already), and once that secret was out there was no bottling it back up again. Captain Crawford and Commander Morgan knowing was quite enough.
And so Louise went back to people watching, content to observe her new crew as they went about their business. Though she was not yet ready to try and enter someone else's social discussions, she knew she would have to eventually. Until then, she guessed she would just have to hope that someone would take pity on her and begin the interaction, or remain content to be the proverbial wallflower.