Baby Mav

Introductions and Bets

That didn't go well.

Maverick sighed as he read Ice's text. He quickly sent one back.

The kid's not ready for this mission.

Ice didn't hesitate to text back.

No one is.
That's why you're here.

You could have warned me.

Would you have come?

Maverick thought about his response. He struggled to think of one but came up with nothing. He tossed his phone onto his bed and lay down. His mind instantly went Rooster and Goose. It then drifted toward the last time he taught at TOPGUN and the F-18-20 flight that killed four pilots, leaving one alive.

Barely.

Nothing he did caused the accident. But nothing he did saved the pilot. They did that all on their own.

It's been over five years since he talked to Rooster. He talks to the pilot from the F-18-20 flight every day. It was easier to talk to that pilot.

Forcing himself to stop thinking about the past, he got up and went to his desk. He looked through the file the admirals gave him. As he read through the semantics and what the other admirals had started to plan, he formed a better one.

It wasn't going to be easy, but it was going to work.

* * * * *

"Attention on deck!"

Chairs scraped as the twelve trainees stood up. The two admirals walked into the room and stood in front of them. Bates and Hondo shared an uncomfortable glance.

"Morning," Bates said. "Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated."

The trainees listened and took their seats. "I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You're all TOPGUN graduates. The elite. The best of the best. That was yesterday. The enemy's new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technical advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box. Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve. Your inspector is a TOPGUN graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master."

Maverick shook off his nerves as he walked into the hangar. He approached from behind so the trainees didn't see him until he walked past them.

"His exploits are legendary," Bates continued. "And he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick."

Maverick walked up to the podium and faced the trainees. He forced himself not to look at Rooster.

"Good morning," he greeted. He looked at two of the trainees he met at the bar the other night and smirked. He couldn't fight it anymore and looked at Rooster. He was glaring right through him. Maverick cleared his throat when Rooster looked away.

He lifted the training manual in his hand and said, "The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

"Damn right."

"Damn straight."

"You got it."

He smirked at the confusion on the trainees' faces and the regret on the admirals' faces as he dropped the manual into the trash.