With a low groan, Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell laid head on the desk in front of him. There was a new crop of pilots coming in tomorrow, and he was bone dead tired. And he really, really needed a good stiff drink. He had had no idea what he was getting into when he decided to come back to be a Top Gun instructor, but he wouldn't trade a moment of it for the world. Knowing he'd helped train those boys up to become some of the Navy's best pilots. Of course, none of them could touch him, or Ice for that matter. He spared a thought for the tremendous pilot who had ended up becoming a good friend. With a wry little smile, Maverick picked himself up off the desk, leaving his hat behind. He headed out the door, and into the quickly falling darkness. The engine on the Kawasaki roared, and he gunned it into the twilight.
The bar rose up on the horizon, standing out from the rolling low hills of the desert, and from the look of it, it was already in full swing. With a stifled grin, Mav strode confidently into the bar, only to stop dead just inside. You've lost that loving feeling... Now it's gone, gone, gone, Whoa-oh… The song brought back memories. Bad memories. Memories of Charlie, her eyes glowing with anger. Charlie screaming at him that he needed to learn how to grow up and that not everything could be solved with speed. Memories of a door slamming, and a car engine revving as it sped away. Memories of shock and pain learning that she'd accepted a promotion across the country in Washington. With a muffled groan, Mav crossed the room to slid into a seat at the bar. The barkeeper called a friendly hello, and slid a beer down his way. He replied with his usual cocky grin. The song continued to play, mocking him when he thought he just started to get over Charlie.
After some time, and a considerable amount of beer, a soft noise from beside him signaled the arrival of someone on the seat beside him. Then a soft husky voice ordered a beer. Mav turned his head slightly to look at the female beside him. And boy, she was a beauty. Long, dark hair fell in ringlets around her, framing a delicately featured heart shaped face. A quick glance revealed mile long legs encased in a pair of jeans, along with a trim waist and nicely formed chest. Not too big, not too small. Just right. In his almost completely inebriated state, she bowled him over.
The man beside her was swaying slightly on his seat, a half glassy look in his eyes signaling his inebriation. And he was gorgeous. A small cocky grin ghosted across her face. Amaya couldn't help it, she had been at sea for a very long time, and if she was going to spend the next eight weeks cooped up at school, she wanted a little release before hand. And the very handsome man who had been checking her out was perfect, because he probably wouldn't remember in the morning. She had a momentary flash of guilt over taking advantage of him this way, but shoved it aside by deciding that he probably did the same to many girl. Putting aside her naturally belligerent nature for now, Amaya placed a slim hand on his. "Are you all right?" She injected a soft note of caring into her voice. He glanced up at her with bleary eyes, and did a double take. Amaya bit her lip, glancing away. The piercing ice blue of her eyes had a tendency to freak people out sometimes. But in this case, it caused the man to lean in and kiss her. He then looked very surprised when she kissed him back, not pushing him away.
Slowly, they made their way to the back room.
The light burned his eyes, and Mav woke with a harsh moan. A chuckled sounded somewhere around the vague area of his feet, and he opened his eyes a slit to see who was laughing. The room was unfamiliar to him, but the amused face was not. Sam "Merlin" Wells laughed and opened the blinds farther eliciting a groan from the man stretched out on the bed. "Wha… Wha happened?" Mav slurred. His R.I.O for the last year and half snorted. "You tell me. I got a call from Mitch down at the bar, and I showed up to find you passed out drunk on the floor, half naked, in the back room." A snicker escaped his lips as he handed Mav a cup of blisteringly hot strong black coffee, which the latter drained quickly, coughing at the heat. He sat up, holding his head. "I… I remember the song… and the beer… and then the girl…" A face swam in his mind, that of a gorgeous dark-haired girl.
The other man laughed again, tossing a shirt towards the pilot. "Well, as interesting as that sounds, we've got a new crop of pilots in about two hours, and I think it's better if they don't see one of their instructors hungover, don't you think? Mitch dropped your motorcycle off earlier, says he's worried about you." Merlin continued. "I grabbed your spare uniform out of your flight locker." Maverick sighed in relief. "What would I do without you Merlin?" He shouted at the retreating back. "I don't know, crash and burn?" Merlin tossed over his shoulder.
Feeling almost completely normal now, Maverick watched as the pilots and R.I.O's filed into the room, chatting amongst themselves and settling themselves in paired seats. Merlin's voice whispered in his ear. "I just found something out. They sent us a girl Mav. First female accepted into the Top Gun program. Amaya, age 25, brown hair, blue eyes. Family, five brothers, both parents deceased." Pete nodded to let him know he understood, though he was shocked. A female Top Gun operative? A R.I.O most likely, though Merlin hadn't mentioned who was the pilot of the pair.
They hadn't noticed him leaning against the wall in the shadows, so the sound of his voice startled them. "Hello gentlemen." They fell silent. "Welcome to Top Gun." With a small grin, he nodded to Merlin, who flipped the switch to turn on the video. Jets swoop, missiles fire, a plane explodes. Gun camera views of MiGs, SAMS, flak, bombing runs...
"During the Korean War, the Navy kill ratio was twelve-to-one. We shot down twelve of their jets for every one of ours. In Vietnam, this ratio fell to three-to-one. Our pilots depended on missiles. They lost their dogfighting skills." The screen now shows F-14's fighting with F-5's. Music becomes current. "Top Gun was created to teach ACM. Air Combat Maneuvering...Dogfighting. Richthofen, Guynemer, Rickenbacker, Galland, Rudel, Bong would envy us. We do just what they did, but we do it beyond the speed of sound. By the end of Vietnam we upped our kill ratio to thirteen to one." Merlin flicked on the lights. "You're here 'cause you're the top one per cent of all naval aviators." Maverick continued. "You're the elite, the best of the best. We're gonna make you better, because you're job is damned important. With the tensions in the world today, the potential for confrontation is greater than ever, and carrier pilots will be the first ones there. Air combat excellence is vital." Maverick glared at the pilots around him, gaze focusing unintentionally on Amaya.
"...Someone once asked me if training men for air combat made the world less safe--flying loaded guns... an accidental confrontation and so forth..." He spoke on, glaring at the other pilots who weren't paying attention. "My answer is: the dangerous thing is being unprepared. You want trouble, that's what you get when things don't work out, when you can't do what you say you can. When you don't know what you can do. And when your opponents aren't sure either. We are not policy. We don't make policy. Elected officials ...civilians, do that. We are the instrument of policy. The tip of the spear. So we had best be sharp." His voice was sharp as well, meeting eyes with those who thought they didn't have to play close attention.
"You want your name on that plaque? Earn it. Gentlemen, this is about combat. Remember, there are no points for second place. Dismissed." Mav's gaze fell on Amaya again, and this time, something fell into place. His eyes widened imperceptibly, and she turned away, ducking her head. Her. The face from the previous night. Had she known who he was? Had she purposely seduced the instructor to gain some sort of advantage? Though from his vague recollection, Mav rather thought he'd instigated it. Was she ashamed? Did she think he had seduced her knowing who she was?
I know authors typically put stuff at the top of the page, but whatever. Thanks for reading my story, it's probably not going to end up begin very long, but hey, I want to write it. Maybe review? That would be so nice. I'm going to work on my Batman story too, I swear.
Disclaimer: Nothing in Top Gun belongs to me (except maybe in my imagination) and the speech Maverick gives to the new pilots is quoted directly from Viper's speech in the movie. I didn't write it.