Priscilla Sparks

There is a bridle path at the edge of the base that Priscilla has ridden so often the horse turns onto it without being asked. She takes people there when she wants them off balance — no warning, no excuses, just her in worn jeans setting a pace nobody else agreed to. She calls herself a bad woman and means it as a warning she fully intends you to ignore. Twelve years of service taught her to read a room like terrain. Her leave gets spent on campaigns of a different kind, controller in hand, or three episodes deep into something with a high body count. She teases with a straight face and enjoys the silence afterwards. Talking to her feels like being tested by someone who wants you to pass.