Scott eyed the room once he entered the hangar, immediately moving to sit next to Payback and his inviting smile.

"Surprised you made it in first, Mouse." Hangman spoke from where he was just arriving. Scott looked up immediately, eyes narrowing. "One step for me is three for you." He smirked and Scott forced himself to look away, shoulders tensing in slight embarrassment.

"You're an ass." Payback muttered in defense. He turned to look at Scott who immediately shot him a thankful smile.
"I've been called worse by better." Hangman shrugged, moving to his seat.

"Attention on deck!"

Everyone surged out of their seats immediately, watching as Cyclone and Warlock made their way into the hangar.

"Morning," Warlock spoke up, looking to everyone as he moved to stand at the podium. "Welcome to your special training detachment." His voice carried across the room. "Be seated."

"You're all Top Gun graduates." He looked at the group, eyeing a few. "The elite. The best of the best." Scott watched as a few people, namely Hangman were proudly smiling.
"That was yesterday."

"The enemy's new fifth generation fighter," Warlock began to explain. "Has leveled the playing field. Details are few but you can be sure that we no longer possess the technological advantage." He said reverently, shoulders tense.
"Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box."

Scott noticed movement out of the corner of his eyesight. Hangman eyed him as his head turned, but Scott could tell he surprisingly wasn't his target this time. Hangman shot his smirk at Phoenix, to which she easily gestured back with a middle finger.

"Half of you will make the cut." Bates began to explain. "One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve." Hangman turned over his other shoulder lazily to catch Rooster's eyes, a cocky smile still plastered on his face.

"Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary. He is considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well make the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell."

Footsteps echoed throughout the hangar. Scott didn't turn around, his father had explained to him the night prior on why he wasn't still on the project in the Mojave Desert. He instead watched as Hangman turned around before running an embarrassed hand down his face.

"Call sign, Maverick." Bates finished his introduction, stepping to the side to allow Maverick the spot.

"Good morning," Pete said in greeting as soon as he turned to face the room. With a smile on his face, his gaze darted around the room to meet every face. When he locked eyes with Scott, his son shot him an immediate smile. Maverick's smile widened minutely before he lifted the book he held in the air, cover facing outward for all to read.

"The F-18 NATOPS," He held his smile as he kept his eyes on everyone, moving his right hand to pat the cover, and then setting it down in front of him. "Contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

"Damn right!" Payback spoke up first, causing the edge of Scott's lip to upturn into a small half smile of amusement. Hangman did much the same, but instead he muttered a" Damn straight," that Scott barely made out. Coyote who was seated at the back of the room shouted as well. "You got it!"

Maverick's eyes made short contact with Scott's, the latter realizing the mischief in them before he lifted the book above a nearby trash can, letting it drop into it with a resounding thud.

"So does your enemy." Their instructor said confidently while everyone immediately turned in their seats to share looks with one another.

"But what the enemy doesn't know," Maverick began again. "Is your limits. And I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. So today we'll start with what you only think you know." He eyed every individual expectantly. "Show me what you're made of."

"Let's head to the taxiway." Maverick clapped his hands together before moving away from the podium, while everyone began to stand. Scott shifted quickly, attempting to get out of Payback's way. He indirectly brushed shoulders with Warlock, immediately sheepish. "My apologies, Admiral."

"You're quite alright, Lieutenant Mitchell." Warlock gave a nod, turning to leave alongside Cyclops.

"Ho ho ho," Hangman turned to face Scott with raised hands as they along with the rest of the group walked into their locker room. "I call nepotism!" Scott decided not to answer, keeping his eyes locked on the back of Rooster's head who was walking just a few steps in front of him.
"Did daddy put in a good word for you or did you put in a good word for daddy?" He placed a hand at his chin, looking up in mock thought.
"Cause I'm betting money it was the fir—"

"Jesus Christ," Rooster groaned, craning his head back, and turning into the locker room.

"What? We're all a little curious, aren't we?" Scott didn't have to look at the man beside him to hear the smile in his voice.

"Just leave him alone, Hangman." Bob rolled his eyes, huffing as he clipped his helmet onto his flight suit.

"Don't worry about me, Bobby. Worry about those eyebrows." Hangman shot back easily, eyes still locked onto Scott. Bob raised a hand to rub at his perfectly normal eyebrows, frowning.

"So, now that the mouse is out of the bag. When did you think you'd tell us?" Hangman shrugged on his vest from beside Scott, tilting his head.

"Wasn't exactly hiding it." Scott muttered with a nasty glare directed at him, lifting his shoulders minutely before letting them drop.

"Woah," Hangman held his hands up in mock surrender. "You've got a nice face, but we'll have to put a bag over that personality."

"Is Bagman really the one that just said that?" Payback eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline, head reeling back slightly in dramatized shock.

"Better believe it." Rooster muttered. "Wish I had a camera."