Valhalla AB
A jet rolls into the hangar, comes to a squealing halt and spools down. The anti-collision lights turn off. Maintenance technicians lay down the chocks, hang red caution flags and prepare for post-flight inspection.
Out from the roosterpit climbs down the pilot. The visor flips up to reveal the face of a young man, visibly Mercanan in ethnicity. He approaches the person he assumes to be the crew chief and pulls out a piece of paper from underneath the stack clipped to the kneeboard on hand.
"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Lorens Zaman, transferee from the 658th Combat Wing. I don't know if you guys were expecting any new arrivals today, but I have a notice from HiCom addressed to the maintenance supervisor, if you wanted to take a look at it." He offers the paper, thankful he hadn't taken his gloves off yet.