San Diego, California
Fightertown.

MAVERICK just didn't know he was still screwed. And in the hands of Beau Simpson, the Admiral insisted on torturing him. Perhaps not just because of the mission that had been covered up at their base, but because of the personal request they had received—unfortunately, orders were still orders.

Sitting at the far end of the conference room table, the Admirals exchanged glances as they saw Maverick pass through the doors and walk peacefully to the other end of the table, where a television was on and connected to a tablet with a scheduled performance.

The Captain was in impeccable posture, awaiting orders like a good soldier. That made the Vice want to roll his eyes, but he held back the urge.

"Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell," he said. "His reputation says it all.

"Thank you, Lord," he said.

"It wasn't a compliment," he warned, seeing him grow embarrassed. "I'm Admiral Beau Simpson, head of flight operations. Do you know Admiral Bates?

"Warlock, sir," greeted Maverick. "I confess I didn't expect to be invited back."

"It's orders, Maverick," Warlock cut in.

Even more embarrassed, he nodded in understanding.

"You guys have something in common. Cyclone was the first of the class of 88.

"Actually, I was the second," Maverick corrected with a smile, hoping they'd understand it was a joke. "I don't want to create expectations."

Of course, they didn't understand. While Warlock was silent, Cyclone couldn't contain the wry smile that formed on his lips. Not wanting to waste time, he clicked a button, starting the prepared presentation.

"The target is an illegal uranium enrichment plant that violates a multilateral treaty with NATO," Warlock explained. "This uranium is a direct threat to our allies in the region. The Pentagon has tasked us with assembling a team and destroying the plant before it goes live."

Maverick's eyes widened, not really believing what he was hearing. For the Admirals' seriousness, he made the right choice to keep quiet and just listen to what they had to say.

"The plant is in an underground bunker at the bottom of the valley."

The television presentation was a floor plan simulation of the area where it was located. Maverick tried to study it quickly, running his eyes over the elevations and ground types. It was quite complicated considering the angulation at which it was implanted.

"In the valley, the GPS signal locks up and is defended by a large battery of air-to-ground missiles," he continued. "Equipped with a small number of fifth-generation fighters, which, however, are supported by a vast reserve of spare aircraft, including older F-14s.

"We're not the only ones who love oldies," Cyclone remarked, a small, sidelong smile on his face. "What's your reading, Captain?"

Maverick took a deep breath, weighing his next words.

"Well, sir, it would normally be a cinch for the stealth F-35, but the GPS signal jamming makes it unfeasible," he said. "An air-to-surface threat calls for a laser-guided low strike, perfect for the F-18. I calculate two precision bombs as a minimum. Four aircraft will be needed to fly in a wing. It's a pretty radical climb to get out of there, and you have air-to-surface missiles. If he survives this, it will be a fighter's fight all the way home."

"Demands for which you have all the experience."

"Not all on the same mission, sir," he denied, shaking his head. "No... Someone isn't getting out of this alive.

"Can it be done or not?" Cyclone asked.

Sighing, Maverick ventured a question:

"How long will the plant be in operation?"

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

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've flown an F-18," he commented, turning to face his superiors. "And I don't know who I'd trust the other three with, but I'll find a way.

"I think you've got it wrong, Captain."

He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing how to respond. What were they talking about? He was called back to Top Gun for a mission, wasn't that it? Maverick was confused, trying to understand if his supervisors didn't understand how complicated and risky this would be.

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

"Teach, sir?" he exclaimed, slightly startled.

"We took 14 Top Gun pilots out of your squadrons." Warlock pointed at the screen, making Maverick look at her. "We want you to reduce that group to seven. They will be the pilots of the mission."

Scanning the first row of photos, his eyes locked on two in particular, which made Maverick widen his eyes and swallow hard. Ah, the past was surfacing all over again. Noticing his strange behavior, Warlock asked:

"Is there a problem, Captain?"

"You know there is, sir."

Of course, they knew. Warlock gave some commands on the tablet, separating the two photos that Maverick was staring at with such vigor and uncertainty.

"Bradley Bradshaw and Nicky Lewis, known as Rooster and Swan," Cyclone signed. "I know you used to fly with their father... What was his callsign?

"Goose, sir," he replied promptly.

"What happened was tragic.

Warlock recalled that "Captain Mitchell was cleared of all fault," avoiding a possible argument. "Goose's death was an accident."

"Is it how you see it, Captain?" he asked, sounding very kai with a tease.

Using all of his willpower, Maverick took a deep breath, not allowing himself to show any shock or weakness at the Admiral's petty, provocative words. So, he decided to try to return to the initial subject, avoiding the fight:

"With all due respect, Sir, I'm not a teacher."

"You were a Top Gun instructor," said Cyclone.

"That was almost 30 years ago, and I stayed two months," he snapped. "It's not my place."

"Then I'll be very direct: you weren't my first choice. In fact, you weren't even on the list," he said, departing from the purpose of the meeting. "You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. It turns out that Iceman is a man I greatly admire, and he thinks you still have something to offer the Navy. What it is, I have no idea."

Cyclone leaned over the table, clasping his hands on top of a specific document sheet. He caught it, sliding it across the table and up to Maverick. The Captain caught it on top of the glass cabinet before it fell, but he didn't take his eyes off Cyclone, not even to open it.

"You don't have to accept this task, but I'll be very clear, it will be your last job, Captain," she warned him, threatening him. "Either you fly for Top Gun, or you don't fly for the Navy ever again."

Those words weighed heavily on Maverick's back. Flying planes was his life; he couldn't imagine doing anything else. He knew that Cyclone had minced words to corner him in that situation, leaving him with no choice.

But Maverick wondered if it was worth facing Rooster after what he'd done. He thought Nicky would be more relaxed, but the boy... He heard Warlock clear his throat, his eyes dropping to the file folder at Maverick's fingertips.

The Captain followed his gaze, staring at him, uncertain as to what to do. Taking a deep breath, he opened the folder, freezing completely at the sight of a certain photo, name in particular. Heavens, it had been years since he'd seen that girl. It was hard to believe she'd grown so much.

Memories came flooding back, not just of Goose, but of his old teammate Smoke. It had been another difficult death to deal with, especially since they hadn't been on the mission together, which made Maverick feel terrible for not helping him. If he had fought harder, he might have been there when the missile exploded and—

"That was a very specific request from Admiral Kazansky," Cyclone warned. "Damiana Scheneider, Smoke's daughter. You also flew together."

"I remember her, sir," Maverick said.

"Fine," Warlock cut in. "Iceman wants her on the mission, but for that to be done, he wants you, Captain, to get her back in the air.

"Sir?" he asked, not understanding.

"Are you aware that she stopped flying when the Admiral, out of necessity, had to withdraw?" he asked, seeing Maverick nod. "Some Pentagon supervisors saw potential. Miss Schneider was part of the team that found out about the plant's activation plans. She's mapped the entire area, so the Admiral thinks it's going to be a great opportunity."

Maverick couldn't believe it. The penny hadn't sunk in yet. Damiana could fly, but she couldn't. Because of Ice? Or did she have something else there? While Bradley's mother had begged him not to let her son have the same future as his father, Ice had welcomed Damiana as if she were his own, even with Smoke's terrible death.

He had to admit, he always saw potential in her. Her determination was gigantic when she was younger. The difference was that Damiana hadn't flown for a long time, and was returning for an extremely risky mission. Ice, by any chance, wanted to kill her?

"Putting her back in the air is in your hands, Captain."

"It's not marked here in the records," Maverick hissed. "What callsign did they give her?"

Maverick's forehead creased in confusion as Cyclone studied him from afar. Of course, her codename wasn't marked. These were extremely fresh records, which they had just gotten a few hours ago. Seeing the Captain's doubt and uncertainty brought happiness to the Admiral, so he replied:

"You'll quickly discover the meaning," he said without a shadow of a doubt. "Damiana Schneider, callsign: Supernova."

━━━━━━

7.13.2022

N O T E S

What did you think of the chapter?
Our Dami hasn't shown up yet, but she's coming! You know, the first few chapters are usually shorter, but I promise they will get longer going forward!

For those interested, we are translating Supernova and Love Above The Clouds into Portuguese as well! Both stories are now available on our profiles and reading lists.
I'll see you