"You nervous?" A voice whispered onto the back of his neck.

Luke flinched away with a wince, turning to face Rooster with a timid smile.

"That obvious?" He asked, eyes shifting between his friend and the runway just outside the hangar they occupied.

"Yeah, little bit." Rooster showed a half smile, moving to face the runway with a heavy hand on the other pilot's shoulder.
"You're up first, huh?"

"Yeah." Luke shifted on his feet. "Phoenix and Bob are with me. No doubt they'll do great."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You'll lead 'em through it just fine." Bradley reassured, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

"Ready to go, Pretty Boy?" Phoenix called out, branching off from the group she was speaking with to jog up to the duo.

"You bet," Luke muttered with a soft chuckle.

-

"Time to target is one minute thirty, we are two seconds behind." Bob voice of warning crackled over the radio. "Increase to four hundred eighty knots."

"We gotta move, Pretty Boy." Phoenix spoke up.

"Copy," Luke muttered, shoulders tensing as he increased speed. He looked down at his control stick before quickly eyeing the panel that showed their route. His eyes darted to look through the glass canopy to notice a mountain not accounted for in the course.

"Woah! Slow, slow, slow!" He shouted, tugging back on his control stick.

"Shit!" Phoenix shouted, lifting up before her jet collided into the back of Luke's. She went too high, causing the simulation's SAM to detect them.

-

"Why are they dead?" Maverick spoke up in front of the group, his eyes boring holes into Luke's own.

"We broke the three hundred foot ceiling. The SAM took us out." Phoenix looked disappointed in herself, eyes falling down to stare at her lap.

"No," Maverick looked to her before turning back to let his eyes fall Luke again. "Why are they dead?"

"I got distracted. I slowed down and didn't give them enough warning." Luke immediately explained, licking his lips nervously.

"Was there a reason you didn't communicate with your team?" His instructor murmured, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"I wa—" Luke began before stopping himself in the midst of Maverick's stare. "No. There wasn't."

Maverick nodded before immediately moving on to Phoenix.

"Why didn't you anticipate the turn? You were briefed on the terrain." He took a step towards her. Phoenix opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't tell me." Maverick interjected, tilting his head toward Bob in a jerky nod who sat beside her. "Tell it to his family."

Maverick turned back to the screen to watch Payback and Fanboy's collision with the course wall.

"What happened?" He flipped around again, eyeing Hangman this time.

"Well, I flew as fast as I could." Hangman smirked. "Kind of like my ass depended on it."

"And," Rooster began, raising a brow as he turned to him, hands clasped together near his face. "You put your team in danger and your wingman's dead."

"They couldn't keep up." Hangman held his smile, eyes still honed in on Maverick.

Rooster was up next in the hot seat as they looked over his simulation results.

"Why are you dead?" Maverick looked to him. Rooster immediately dropped his hands, looking up to face the man.

"You're team leader up there." He tilted his head. "Why are you, why is your team, dead?"

"Sir," Phoenix lifted her head from where it rested on her hand. "He's the only one who made it to the target."

"A minute late." Maverick reminded with a sigh, dropping his head slightly. "He gave enemy aircraft time to shoot him down. He is dead."

"You don't know that." Rooster murmured in protest.

"You're not. Flying. Fast enough." Hangman enunciated, shaking his head from where he sat. "You don't have a second to waste."

"We made it to the target." Rooster reminded.

"And superior enemy aircraft made it to you on the way out." Maverick voiced sternly.

"Then it's a dogfight."

"Against fifth generation fighters?" Maverick inquired, tilting his head.

"Yeah, we still have a chance." Rooster responded.

"In an F-18?" Maverick raised his voice, taking a step closer.

"It's not the plane, sir." Rooster spoke up. "It's the pilot."

"Exactly!" Maverick shouted, followed by a moment of stunned silence.

"There's more than one way to fly this mission." Rooster cut through the silence.

"You really don't get it." Hangman spoke up incredulously, shaking his head minutely.
"On this mission a man flies like Maverick here." He tilted his head up toward their instructor. "Or a man does not come back."
He turned his head to look at Phoenix and Bob.
"No offense intended."

Bob leaned forward to eye him. "Yet somehow, you always manage."

"Look, I don't mean to criticize," Hangman leaned back to look at Rooster. "You're conservative, that's all."

"Lieutenant," Maverick spoke.

"We're going into combat, son." Hangman continued. "On a level no living pilot's ever seen," He turned to look at Maverick with a small smirk. "Not even him."

Maverick furrowed his brows, noticeably overwhelmed as Hangman turned back around to address Rooster again.
"That's no time to be thinking about the past."

Rooster's fidgeting fist dropped from face as he turned to face the other with an eerily blank expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Rooster," Maverick interjected.

"I can't be the only one that knows that Maverick flew with his old man." Hangman mused aloud, leaning further into his seat with a taunting smile.

"Lieutenant, that's—" Maverick warned.

"Hangman, shut the hell up." Luke interjected, jaw clenching in anticipation.

"Or that Maverick was flying when his old man—"

"Lieutenant, that's enou—"

Rooster shot out of his seat, lunging toward him as the other did the same. Rooster got in a good shove before Phoenix grabbed at his left shoulder, her glare directed at Luke causing him to do the same on the other side.

"That's enough!" Maverick got in between the two, shoving at either of their chests.

"You son of a bitch!" Bradley thrusted a pointed finger toward his assailant as Luke and Phoenix wrenched him backward, Luke wrapping his arm across the man's chest as he nearly toppled at Rooster's strength.

"I'm cool. I'm cool." Hangman laughed, shrugging off Fanboy's arm. "Hey, hey, hey."

"Stop. That's enough. That's enough." Maverick repeated quietly, eyes darting between Hangman's cool demeanor and Rooster's rigid form.

"Relax, Roost." Luke murmured, unoccupied hand moving to rest at the back of his neck.

"He's not cut out for this mission." Hangman spoke up in nonchalance. "You know it." He turned to face Maverick with another cocky smirk. "You know I'm right."

Hangman moved to leave, but not before standing to lean his face mere inches away from Rooster's own, causing Luke's hold around his friend to immediately stiffen.

At the sound of receding footsteps and heavy breathing, Maverick spoke up.

"You're all dismissed."

Bradley shrugged at the hold his friends had on him.
"Get the hell off." He grunted lowly, voice wrecked with emotion.

Luke acquiesced, taking a step back, the hand he had at the back of Rooster's neck giving a reassuring squeeze before dropping to hang at his side.

Rooster didn't waste much time before turning around, shouldering past Luke violently to storm out of the room.