Chapter Text
Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.
Maverick was stationed in the Mojave Desert for having pissed off yet another admiral. He walked into his hangar, eating breakfast. The hangar had a 1986 Kawasaki Ninja and a workbench with a board above it. The corkboard had photos and memories of his life through flights. He finished breakfast at the small table near the door, before heading to his workbench.
One of the photographs on the board was at Tom's wedding with Tom, Sarah, Carole, the twins, and Maverick himself. Right under, another photograph of a slightly older Bradley and Maverick together. A few pictures away from that was a picture of Maverick and Penny Benjamin before they broke up in 1986. Next to the corkboard was a calendar with the day circled. In red marker, Mav had written Mach Nine today.
Maverick grabbed his sunglasses and keys to the Kawasaki Ninja, leaving his helmet behind. He rode away from the hangar, driving down a desert road. Dust rose behind the machine, following it as he rode to the limit of the motorcycle.
After getting through the security guard point, Maverick continued towards the hangar where the Darkstar was. A plane took off on the runway near the road. Maverick looked at it and smiled, driving a little bit faster.
《~~○~~》
"Lieutenant Benjamin," Admiral Johnson called out from behind his office door, "Come in."
Lieutenant Hennessey "Maneater" Benjamin walked in and stood at attention, looking just above her Admiral's head. Her hands grew clammy, as they stayed against her side.
"At ease," He began, letting Hennessey relax slightly, "I have special orders from Admiral Kazansky."
"Admiral Kazansky, sir?" She responded, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.
She knew the name, hell even the newest recruits knew the name. It was an almost infamous name, with the Admiral being the commander of the Pacific Fleet, while both he and his daughter were at the top of their classes when they graduated from Top Gun.
"Yes, Maneater, Admiral Kazansky. He has sent special orders to send you, specifically, back to Top Gun," Admiral Johnson explained.
"Back to Top Gun, sir? May I ask why?" Hennessey asked, slightly giddy at the thought of going back and being able to see her mother and little sister.
"The orders just say that it is a secret mission. Now I want you to come back alive after this mission, Maneater. You are my best pilot. Pack your bags, you are to be flown back in a few hours," Johnson ordered.
Hennessey nodded once, acknowledging that she heard the order. She had been wanting off of this carrier for the past few weeks due to other pilots and naval officers aboard being rude and misogynistic to her and the other few female crewmates.
"Dismissed," Johnson said.
Hennessey fought back a smile from gracing her face. She turned and walked towards the door.
"Oh and Maneater, if you see Admiral Kazansky, wish him the best from me," Johnson said as Hennessey's fingertips were barely able to graze the handle.
"Yes, sir, thank you," Hennessey replied, looking back at the Admiral before closing the door behind her.
Hennessey smiled, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. She was going back home to Top Gun. She was going home to her mom, her sister. To everything she never realized she truly missed from being posted away. The woman rushed back to her dorm, wanting to get started on packing, wanting to get home faster. The idea of getting off of the carrier that she had been deployed on for the past month and a half was thrilling, getting to take off and land on solid ground.
《~~○~~》
Maverick hit a handful of switches, the main engine on the Darkstar shutting down. There was a moment of silence before the SCRAMJET engine roared to life. The Darkstar rocketed into the upper atmosphere. The thinner air gave away to the void of space. Back at mission control, the engineers were monitoring, a nervous tension filling the room.
"Uh, Mav, Admiral Cain is asking-" An old friend, Hondo, came over the radio.
"Ordering," The Admiral cut Hondo off.
"Ordering that we bring her down," Hondo corrected, referring to the Darkstar that Maverick was currently flying in.
"Op... Alpha… three, oh… Ive… four…" Maverick responded, acting like the signal was cutting out.
"This is where we've had trouble with comms, sir. It’s the earth's curvature. It’s called ‘earth bulge,’" Hondo said as he and most of the engineers quickly caught on, trying to hide a smile.
Maverick smiled to himself, amused as he did not respond to what Hondo radioed in. His smile faded and went back into absolute focus, gaining speed and slowly getting higher on the mach level.
"Sir, I apologize," Hondo apologized.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's show him what you've got," Maverick mumbled to himself, not coming over the radio.
"He's pushing Mach seven, pushing eight. Flight data?" One of the engineers announced.
One of the other engineers quickly checks the monitor, reading a trickle of code. Maverick was gaining speed.
"Receiving. Data is good," The engineer alerted.
Maverick flips a few more switches, making adjustments. Sweat trickles down the side of his head, exerted, as the airspeed gauge rises.
"Temperature's climbing, responses still stable. Feeling good," Maverick said to himself.
"Mach eight point eight, eight-nine... Mach nine," The same engineer, who said the mach numbers earlier, announced once more.
Everyone, besides Admiral Cain, shared looks of concern, sweating. Hondo looked at the flight data monitor, it was at a steady flow now. They were all in an unknown part now, they hadn't reached this high of a Mach level in the Darkstar yet.
"He's the fastest man alive," Hondo whispered, amazed.
"Just a little push," Maverick muttered to himself, feeling the weight of his body against the pressure. He nudged the stick a little.
"Great work, Mav. Bring it on home," Hondo said over the comms.
Maverick looked at the now blank board, tucking away his final test card. Maverick shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.
"Talk to me, Goose," Maverick whispered, he gently pushed the stick again.
The Darkstar left a wide-arched contrail behind itself, over the western United States. The control room broke out in celebration.
"Mach nine-one... nine-two..." An engineer called out during the celebration.
"You got balls there, stick-jockey. I'll give you that," Admiral Cain muttered, as he stepped towards the screen, a small smile ghosting across his face.
Maverick tenses the throttle, before jamming it forward, all the way. The gauge rolled up, going up. Nine-point two. Nine-point three. Nine-point four.
"Nine-point five," Maverick announced over the comm.
"Surface temp rising," The engineer warned as the warning popped up on the Darkstar's screen.
"We're watching it," The other one replied.
"Did anyone offer you a coffee?" Hondo asked Admiral Cain, looking at him.
Admiral Cain glared down at Hondo. The latter of the two looked down awkwardly, focusing back on his friend in the jet.
Various instruments in the plane started to scream and whistle at Maverick. He gritted his teeth. The gauge was almost Mach ten.
"Almost... there, girl. Show them what you can do. Come on, sweetheart. Just a little more," Maverick muttered to himself and the plane.
"Nine-nine," An engineer announced, "Jesus."
"Mach ten," Another said.
The team in the command center cheered once more. Hondo quickly noted the data recorder, it was gushing with the new information. Cain looked at one of the engineers pumping his fist in the air, realizing what it meant.
"Put that in your Pentagon budget!" The engineer exclaimed before catching Cain's stunned and angry glare, "Uhh.. Sir."
"Alright you made your point, Mav. Bring her home," Hondo murmured, staring at the monitor.
He knew how Maverick was. The gauge continued to tremble, rising slowly.
"That's it, just a little. Ten point one..." Maverick muttered.
Ten-point one.
Ten-point two.
"You see, I knew you could do it," Maverick muttered to the plane.
The Darkstar jolted violently, Maverick hitting the canopy as alarms blared and lights flashed across his screen. Back at the command center, all the screens went dark, the flight data vanishing.
"Maverick?" Hondo shouted over the radio, “Mav!”
The sun was slowly rising as a bell jingled at a truck stop. Maverick stepped into the dinner, the patrons staring at him in awe. Mav looked around, dazed and dehydrated, as he held his helmet in his hand. An elderly waitress poured some water for a customer.
"Excuse me, miss?" Mav asked.
He pointed towards the water she just poured. She handed him the glass. He chugged it, the whole glass.
"Where am I?"
"Earth," A little boy that sat at the counter, next to Maverick, whispered.