PROLOGUE
The Room Where It Happens

     THE DOOR TO A DARK CONFERENCE ROOM OPENED, the first entrant flipping on a light switch to reveal its vacant state. Vice Admiral Beau Simpson and Rear Admiral Solomon Bates — more commonly known as "Cyclone" and "Warlock," respectively — walked into the room and set their individual Manila folders on the mahogany table sitting central in the room.

     Warlock noticed Cyclone's apprehensiveness regarding their upcoming meeting, "Do you think he'll accept the offer once he sees who we've got lined up?"

     Cyclone scoffed, "It's not an offer — it's an order. Even if he didn't want to do it for...personal reasons...however, if he does decide he doesn't want to do it, I'm sure as hell not going to drop to my knees and beg him to change his mind." He shook his head in disbelief as he opened his folder, quickly rebriefing himself on the information, "Why Kazansky always pulls for this guy is beyond me, especially after, what? Thirty-something years?"

     "He obviously sees something in Maverick that most people don't," Warlock reasoned, sitting down.

     Cyclone glanced up from the innards of the folder, an exasperated expression on his face as he took a seat at the head of the table, "Obviously." The door to the room opened again, this time the men's expectant guest occupying the doorway. Cyclone's gaze didn't waver from the man as he entered the room, stopping at the opposite end of the table.

     Once the door shut behind their guest, Cyclone began, "Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. Your reputation precedes you."

     "Thank you, sir."

     Cyclone blinked, "It wasn't a compliment." The corners of Maverick's mouth barely shrugged upwards in amusement as he nodded in response. Cyclone continued, "I'm Admiral Beau Simpson, I'm the Air Boss." He motioned towards the man beside him, "This is Rear Admiral Bates."

     Maverick nodded in recognition, "Warlock, sir. I must admit, I wasn't expecting an invitation back."

     Warlock's mouth subtly curved upwards, referencing the conversation he had with Cyclone moments before, "They're called orders, Maverick." He nodded in amusement. "You two have something in common," Warlock continued, "Cyclone, here, was first in his class back in '88."

     "Actually, sir, I finished second," Maverick corrected. "Just want to manage expectations." Maverick smiled, trying to get Cyclone to ease up even the slightest bit, but the latter wasn't budging. Maverick pressed his lips together as he glanced at the floor, accepting that his joke didn't land.

     Warlock acknowledged the awkward tension in the room and nodded towards the TVs behind Maverick, "The...target." He pressed a button on the control panel in front of him, transitioning the TV screen from its default screen to a blueprint plan. "There's an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region.

     "The Pentagon has tasked us with assembling a strike team and taking it out, before it becomes fully operational." The blueprints zoomed out to show a mock-up of its geography. "The plant sits in an underground bunker at the end of this valley." The screen switched to the valley's median plane. "Said valley is GPS-jammed and defended by an extensive surface-to-air missile array serving a limited number of fifth-generation fighters, which, in turn, are backed up by a plentiful reserve of surplus aircraft. Even a couple of F-14s."

      "Seems like we're not the only ones holding onto old relics," Cyclone smartly chimed in. Maverick half-heartedly glanced over his shoulder to let Cyclone know that he caught the dig.

     Warlock remained focused, "What's your read, Captain?"

     Maverick faced the screen and used his index finger to point towards different aspects of the diagram, "Well, sir, uh, normally, this would be a cakewalk for the F-35 Stealth, but the GPS-jamming negates that. The surface air threat necessitates a low-level, laser-guided strike tailor-made for the F-18. I figure..." he pursed his lips in thought as he further studied the three-dimensional map, "...two precision bombs, minimum. Makes four aircrafts, flying in pairs."

     Cyclone and Warlock shared glances with each other, nonverbally sharing their impressed states. Maverick looked over his shoulder at the two men as he pointed at the side of the mountain, "That is one hell of a steep climb out of there. Exposing you to all the surface-to-air missiles." He raised his eyebrows, "And if you survive that...it's a dogfight all the way home."

     "All requirements for which you have real-world experience," Warlock spoke.

     Maverick glanced back at him, "Not the same mission, sir." He faced the screens and looked wistfully towards the floor, "No...someone's not coming back from this."

     Cyclone disregarded Maverick's solemn tone of voice and asked directly, "Can it be done or not?"

     Maverick hesitated before asking a follow-up question, "How soon before the plant becomes operational?"

     "Three weeks," Warlock replied, "maybe less."

     Maverick turned his body back towards the two admirals, "Well, it's been a while since I've flown a F-18, and," he shook his head, "I'm not sure who I trust to fly the other three...but I'll find a way to make it work."

     Cyclone and Warlock exchanged another set of glances before the latter spoke, "I think you misunderstand, Captain."

     "...sir?"

     "We don't want you to fly it," Cyclone clarified. "We want you to teach it."

     Maverick furrowed his eyebrows, "'Teach,' sir?"

     Warlock switched to the next screen as Cyclone narrated, "We recalled twelve TOPGUN graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow that pool down to six." Maverick turned back towards the screen nonchalantly, only to do a double-take once he saw the two rightmost portraits. "They'll fly the mission." Maverick stayed quiet, eyes locking on one of the only two female aviators in particular.

     Cyclone noticed his apprehensiveness, and knew exactly why Maverick had such a sudden shift in demeanor, "Is there a problem, Captain?"

     Maverick slowly faced the two men once more, swallowing the lump in his throat, "You know there is, sir."

     "Yeah." This time, Cyclone clicked on the control panel to zoom into a candidate's portrait, blowing up the picture of the male Maverick's heart skipped a beat at. "Bradley Bradshaw, aka Rooster. I understand you used to fly with his old man." Maverick looked at his portrait, again noticing the uncanny resemblance between the two. "What was his call sign?"

     His death replayed in Maverick's mind. Ejecting from the plane. Holding his limp body in his arms.

     "Goose, sir."

     "Tragic what happened," Cyclone quickly stated, voice void of emotion.

     "Captain Mitchell was cleared of any wrongdoing," Warlock said matter-of-factly. "Goose's death was an accident."

     "Is that how you see it, Captain?" Cyclone asked, intentionally bringing up old wounds. He nodded towards Rooster's picture, "Is that how Goose's son sees it?" He pressed a button on the control panel to switch to the portrait below Rooster's, a blonde female's profile replacing his, "How about Cassandra Blackwood, here? 'Birdie?'"

     Maverick's heart leapt into his chest at the sound of his daughter's name, turning back towards the screen to see her picture blown up to full proportions. "I presume she has some choice words to say about you, given that she's requested to only be addressed by her mother's surname — another favor from your old pal, Iceman, as it happens."

     Maverick avoided his critical comments, waiting a beat before focusing back on the main concern at hand, "With all due respect, sir, I'm not a teacher."

     Cyclone shrugged, "You were a TOPGUN instructor before."

     "That was almost thirty years ago, I lasted two months." Maverick shook his head, "That's not where I belong."

     "Well, then let me be perfectly blunt." Cyclone shook his head, "You were not my first choice — in fact, you weren't even on the list. You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire, and he seems to think that you have something left to offer the Navy." He shook his head again, "What that is, I can't imagine." Maverick shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

     Cyclone leaned forward in his seat, resting his weight on his forearms, "You don't have to take this job, but let me be clear. This will be your last post, Captain. You fly for TOPGUN, or you don't fly for the Navy ever again." At Maverick's lack of response, Cyclone sat back before standing up from his seat. "Just forewarning you, Maverick, whichever decision you decide to make..." he pointed towards Birdie's picture, "...she is by far the most qualified for this mission. She's a shoo-in. She will be one of those six." Cyclone shrugged, "If you don't think you can detach yourself from your personal ties...I don't recommend taking the job." Maverick stayed still as Cyclone left the room, Warlock close behind — but not before giving Maverick a curt nod goodbye.

     Maverick turned back towards the screen, stepping closer to more easily read Cassie's profile.

     He could see her list of qualifications in his peripheral vision — all of which he already knew of due to the tabs on her performance he's kept ever since he found out she joined the Navy (after she had already graduated from the Academy, mind you) — but he was focusing on her picture itself. How the little girl he was inseparable from for the first eighteen months of her life had transitioned into the full-grown woman staring back at Maverick through the screen was beyond him.

     Maverick credits Cassie's success to Charlie, since, frankly, he was a pretty shitty dad in the grand scheme of things. Sure, he called frequently and visited every so often, but in retrospect, Maverick wishes he had done things differently. A lot differently, actually. But twenty-something-year-old Maverick was too engrossed with his blossoming aviation career to make sacrifices that could potentially endanger it. Once he, himself, had matured enough to realize what he's missed out on, it was too late. Maverick couldn't magically turn back time and redo Cassie's entire upbringing, as much as he wished he could.

     Plus, he figured Cassie had grown to resent him by now, anyway — exhibit a: deciding to suddenly go by her mother's surname rather than his. And to further twist the knife, having his name blacked out on select Naval documents; for example, the one he was currently looking at — Maverick figured Cyclone drew the line in himself due to its imperfect nature. Legally, she was still Cassandra Mitchell, but as far as anyone knew, she was a Blackwood.

     She got the best parts of both him and Charlie — or rather, the few good parts of him and the best ones of Charlie. Cassie obviously got Maverick's aviation skills (just about his only redeemable quality, in his own opinion), from the looks of her previous squadrons, which was a larger list than most pilots her age — a testimony to how in-demand her skills were. Cyclone was right; Cassie would be going on this mission regardless of who would be instructing it despite Maverick's personal objections towards the matter due to how high-risk it was. He sighed, perching his hands on either hip. After contemplating in silence for a few more minutes, staring at his own reflection in the darkness of virtual Cassie's eyes, the answer was crystal clear.

     He let his hands drop and spoke aloud as if her portrait on the screen could somehow hear him, "Love you, Cass." Maverick exited the conference room and headed down the same direction Cyclone and Warlock did earlier, tracking them down to announce his decision.

     It looked like Maverick would be making his grand return to TOPGUN, after all.

here we are!! i'm actually motivated?! to write a fic for once in my life, thus me whipping this out within 24 hrs of publishing the book. this chapter was very much movie-centric and is based primarily off of canon events, obviously, but not all of the chapters will be like this, i promise! i figured this scene would be the best to introduce maverick's thoughts and feelings abt cass before we get into her side, which is basically told throughout the rest of the book lol. + i wanted to include that graphic to also offer some insight into her previous service since she's basically always been somewhere upon graduating, which plays into things later on ☺️😚

thank u so much for all the support u've already given slow ride!! i hope u guys enjoy the rest of it and are as excited as i am to delve into cass & brad's relationship w the coming chapters (a hint for ch 1: great balls of fire 😈)