“Doctor Pollard,” Joann said carefully, lying flat on a biobed while the CMO ran her up and down with a tricorder. “I have a question.”
It had been on her mind for weeks now, ever since The Imposter (as people called him, like they were afraid to say his name) had been rooted out and died in a battle. That was the root of her problems. Even with him gone, it still felt like he would emerge from his ready room at any moment, and bark at them to start another battle sim. It was quiet on the bridge.
“So I was chosen for the Ops position on the bridge out of nowhere. When I got to Discovery as an ensign, I was an assistant to the Quartermaster. Few months later, I was sitting in the caf running a diagnostic on the replicators and Lorca-” It had been the first time she’d said his name in months. “Lorca saw me. Said my roommate had mentioned me as a candidate for the backup Ops board officer. But he said he thought I was good enough to be the primary.” The other candidate she’d heard about had left under strange circumstances, but she didn’t mention it.
“And he did the same for you too! He could’ve just made Doctor Culber CMO-” damn, lots of dead people in this conversation- “But he skipped over him and put you in charge. So I guess my question is... Why? And when a guy like him was the one who chose us, what does that mean about who we are?”