DAMIANA felt as if she had gone back to school. Theoretically, she had returned to Top Gun.

She hated the feeling of insecurity that hit her like a bullet. It was like going back to high school, where all the mean girls judged her in the hallways and the boys were idiots with the mentality of seven-year-olds.

However, even though she hated the feeling, she had to admit that her years in Top Gun might have been the best. After all, the only way she had to connect with her parents was when she was flying at an absurd and dangerous altitude. That agonizing feeling of always being on the brink of death was addictive in so many ways—

She realized that all the pilots she'd seen on the Hard Deck were there, as well as others she didn't recognize. Dami tried to go unnoticed, to sit down quickly, but she knew some of them were squinting at her, whispering words to their peers. She didn't blame them, as much as she hated it, because the question always hung in the air: who was she?

There were so many answers—Smoke and Dulce's daughter, two pilots who died in flight; the golden girl with the dream of being like her parents; the orphan taken in and trained by Admiral Kazansky; or the pilot who gave up flying.

"Look who it is," hissed a male voice, sitting down beside her.

"Do I know you?" she retorted, disinterested.

Rooster rolls his eyes, slipping an arm behind her chair.

"It's the Navy that's arrogant," he grumbled, staring at her cold, rigid features. "What are you? A flight attendant?"

Ahead of them, Dami heard the laughter of another woman, who looked away when she realized that she had caught him in the act. Rooster also looked in the direction of the laugh, giving her a sarcastic smile.

Everyone had risen to their feet at the beep, their posture stiff as the supervisor approached until he was in front of everyone.

"Good morning," he said, extremely cold. "Welcome to the special training detachment. Sit down."

Everyone did as they were told, smoothing their green uniforms to line them up. Some looked extremely uncomfortable, others too relaxed.

"I'm Admiral Bates, commander of the NAWDC," he introduced himself. "You graduated from Top Gun. You are the elite. The best of the best."

Dami resisted the urge to roll his eyes, noting the arrogant and despicable expressions of some pilots.

"But that was yesterday," he announced, putting everyone on alert. "The new fifth generation of the enemy has leveled a theater of operations. Details are few, but know that we are no longer at a technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, depends only on the man or woman in the cabin."

She felt eyes on her, which made her cross her arms and slide a little in her chair. Damiana had always hated being the focus of attention, and as bad as it might have been, she was relieved that she wasn't the only one receiving such attention.

"One of you will be the mission leader," he continued. "The other half will be in reserve."

Rooster's gaze instantly collided with Hangman's as he turned back to face him, an explicit provocation painted on him. He kept his expression neutral, not letting on whether it affected him or not.

"Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate and has real experience in all aspects of the mission that you must master."

Damiana took a deep breath, paying attention to the light footsteps of someone approaching.

"His exploits are legendary," said Warlock. "He is considered one of the best pilots this show has ever trained."

As everyone turned to face him, Damiana smiled triumphantly at the sight of the incredulous and embarrassed expressions of some of the pilots. Hangman was the best, putting his hands over his face as if he was trying to hide. Some squirmed uncomfortably.

"What he will teach you could be the difference between life and death."

Rooster's expression didn't go unnoticed by her. Perhaps his face gave nothing away, but Damiana saw him clench his fists tightly, his jaw set, and the faintest hint of his eyes darkening.

"With you, Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign 'Maverick'."

When Maverick took Warlock's place, a bright, calm smile was on his lips. He swept the two rows of riders, landing for a few long seconds on Dami's eyes as they found him. It had been so long since he'd seen her in those clothes with that posture; it was as if she'd been born in those outfits, ready to break free from the locked cage and fly.

"Good morning," he greeted, earning a few crooked, self-conscious smiles.

He waited for something from Rooster, sitting next to Dami. The young man did nothing more than look away, without meeting him or making a point of acknowledging his presence. Maverick took a deep breath, concentrating on changing air, and hefted a huge amount of paper in one hand.

"The F-18 NATOPS manual," he showed. "It contains everything you should know about your aircraft. I assume you know it by heart."

Quickly, agreeing responses were heard, mostly from Coyote and Hangman, with a slight tone of sarcasm accompanying them. What no one expected was the fact that Maverick had just tossed the manual into the wastebasket next door.

"Your enemy too," he added.

On the side parallel to the pilots, Hondo already seemed to expect that, but Warlock and Cyclone exchanged slightly startled looks, wondering if having Pete as an instructor was such a good idea. It has begun, Hondo grumbled, trying not to smile.

"But what the enemy doesn't know is your limit," Maverick said. "I intend to discover it, test it, and expand it."

Without turning to meet him, Dami felt Rooster's eyes on her.

"Today we're going to start with what you think you know," he declared. "Show what you're made of."

Dami felt the whole mood change, seeing the riders' rigid postures relax dramatically. As the superiors left, returning to their respective duties, Maverick passed a sheet of paper to one of the pilots with words written on it.

As they gathered to see what was in them, Dami realized they were the pilots' and their pairs' callsigns for the exercise. Some who had already found their names were leaving the shed, probably to go to the locker room to put on their special costumes.

She stayed behind, being one of the last to locate her partner. Dami rolled her eyes, sighing as she did the same as the other pilots and went to get ready for take off.

Rooster, sheet in hand, turned around, lost, not understanding who the person with the very different codename was. Phoenix, beside him, let out a laugh, making him ask:

"Who the hell is Supernova?"

"Do you swear you didn't recognize her?" She laughed, amused. "Schneider was sitting next to you."

He widened his eyes, not believing what she said. Phoenix was clearly happy with the dumbfounded reaction that got him. It was nice once in a lifetime to see him so desperate and confused.

"And in case it wasn't clear, Rooster," she continued, walking past him. "She's also a pilot, not a flight attendant."

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8.13.2022

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