SUPERNOVA | ❝Don't think, just do.❞
When TOPGUN calls, the pilots flock, with no clue of the trials they are about to face. It brings old friends together, everyone from former TOPGUN classmates to childhood friends - they come and go into each...
┌───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┐ THIRTEEN smoke in the air └───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┘
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FINALLY, the big day arrives. Even though Celeste was starting to think it never would, she now finds herself in the middle of the ocean on a giant aircraft carrier, where all of their training is about to pay off. Waves crash against the titan steel sides of the vessel, the salt air clearing her head and kicking her brain into the focus it needs — just like any other mission, Celeste always shifts into gear when it matters most.
The difference this time is the people. Whether she flies or not, Quincy will definitely not be her pilot. It's strange not having him around her. She's so used to rubbing off his energy, getting riled up for a mission just from his restlessness. And then, of course, there is Bradley. Celeste had left in the early hours of the morning, parting with a goodbye kiss as dawn broke over them. Here on the carrier, they are nothing but professional.
Nevertheless, that didn't stop them from sharing a small smile when they passed each other in the narrow corridors. Just the silent acknowledgement of the night before, and that they had no regrets.
But now all the pilots stand in impeccably straight rows, shoulders rolled and their hands behind their back. Celeste's gaze is raised through the crown of her head, focusing on a point in the distance behind the podium. Her heart marches like a steady drum in her ribcage with anticipation: boom, boom, boom. She feels calmer than she thought she would right now. Luisa stands to her left, calm and collected, while Ryan stands on her right looking somber and focused. He hasn't mentioned a word about the night before, just coming in and getting straight on with the job.
Maverick steps up to the podium, his demeanour heavier than usual with the weight of responsibility. "It's been an honour flying with you," he says. "Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choices are a reflection of that, and nothing more."
So this is it. The moment they find out which six aviators will actually embark on the mission, leaving the rest on the reserve teams. Celeste suspects, naturally, that she will fall into the latter category — consistency would probably be the sensible option for this mission, and since she hasn't had ample time to adjust to flying with a new pilot, perhaps it would be better to choose someone else. She calmly accepts her fate before Maverick even announces anything.
Behind her, she feels Bradley's eyes on her, and her skin prickles with fleeting warmth.
"Choose your two foxtrot teams," Cyclone instructs stoically.
