Active duty. Hunter and Bailey. Gay. Checked.
One line remained, handwritten in the margin in Bailey’s neat, cramped script. Active Duty - Hunter And Bailey -Gay- - Checked
Hunter slid out from under the gear. He lay on the concrete, looking up. Bailey was still crouched, and now they were eye-level. The hangar’s emergency lights cast half of Bailey’s face in hard shadow. His jaw was set. His name tape read BAILEY . Hunter’s read HUNTER . No ranks out here. Just bodies and duties. Active duty
“Fuel cell three is showing a pressure anomaly,” Bailey said, his voice low, a professional monotone that didn’t reach his eyes. “I rechecked it twice. It’s a sensor ghost.” looking up. Bailey was still crouched
“Bailey,” Hunter said.