She Was Just Servicing The Apache’s Weapon System When The Pilot Saw Her Patch… And Froze The hangar at dawn sounded like a promise: hydraulics yawning awake, bootsteps counting off the morning, the faint clatter of tools in metal trays. She kept to the shadows of the AH-64, sleeves rolled, hands steady on the Apache’s forward weapon mount—just another armory tech chasing carbon with a brass brush. Her name didn’t travel. Her work did. You don’t get applause for a clean feed tray; you get silenc