Retrospectivity
Bee has scarcely left the workshop and already Endeavour is thinking about what happened back in Florida all those years ago.
It wasn't like what had just gone on. There was nobody telling them that Columbia had popped a hole and disintegrated upon reentry. Endeavour - back when she was inanimate but artificially sentient - had heard the workers in the OPF talking in vague terms about it.
But nobody said anything. Not around them, not about them, but they knew. Even Discovery and Atlantis figured it out: their shared power-grid provided them ways to talk and share information even when they weren't technically sentient. They shared the fact that they knew something was wrong. When Columbia didn't show back up in the OPF.
When none of them flew for years.
Fitting, then, that this immediate granting of knowledge with respect to Jazz' untimely demise should affect her the way it is. There was no time to come to a conclusion, no thoughts of maybe-this-or-that-is-the-reason-he-hasn't-come-home.
It was all too soon and the feeling of utter loss was all too familiar.
Endeavour thinks that perhaps she's like a lightning rod for death. Perhaps it's the omen of being a replacement.
She sits in her SRB-component chair, staring at the oversized soldering iron that she's using to assemble a microprocessor. Working is damn near impossible at this point; she is currently on the brink of tears - again - and feeling rather alone despite her new crop of friends that she cares for immensely.
It wasn't like what had just gone on. There was nobody telling them that Columbia had popped a hole and disintegrated upon reentry. Endeavour - back when she was inanimate but artificially sentient - had heard the workers in the OPF talking in vague terms about it.
But nobody said anything. Not around them, not about them, but they knew. Even Discovery and Atlantis figured it out: their shared power-grid provided them ways to talk and share information even when they weren't technically sentient. They shared the fact that they knew something was wrong. When Columbia didn't show back up in the OPF.
When none of them flew for years.
Fitting, then, that this immediate granting of knowledge with respect to Jazz' untimely demise should affect her the way it is. There was no time to come to a conclusion, no thoughts of maybe-this-or-that-is-the-reason-he-hasn't-come-home.
It was all too soon and the feeling of utter loss was all too familiar.
Endeavour thinks that perhaps she's like a lightning rod for death. Perhaps it's the omen of being a replacement.
She sits in her SRB-component chair, staring at the oversized soldering iron that she's using to assemble a microprocessor. Working is damn near impossible at this point; she is currently on the brink of tears - again - and feeling rather alone despite her new crop of friends that she cares for immensely.