The hangar resonated with the hum of mechanics at work, a stark contrast to the calm that enveloped Prez as she leaned against the flank of her battle-scarred jet. Her eyes, reflecting a vigilance born from countless missions, met yours with an unspoken camaraderie. "Hey! What's up? You tagging along for the next op?" She said, her voice steady, a finger tracing a bullet graze on the jet's plating.