Chapter Text
The graduation day of the class of ‘86 had arrived.
It had been five weeks.
Five weeks full of hope, resignation, victory and defeat, learning, struggle, perseverance, disagreements, collaborations, giving up and starting over, and one tragedy…
All these guys had arrived here with the innermost desire to prove themselves. Each wanted to show that he was the best of the best. But points… Well, they were just points. How these men would perform in real life, what kind of pilots and, most of all, what kind of people they would become had nothing to do with points. Some of them had learned this in the past few weeks, but a few still had a lot to learn. Anyway, Viper hoped that, even if not to the same extent, all had become a little bit better thanks to the training. But only the future could confirm that for sure.
None of the twelve men dressed in snow-white uniforms could know what fate had in store for them. They were eating, drinking, and talking unconcernedly now that the ceremony was over.
Even with all this Viper couldn't deny the feeling of pride that warmed his heart like the spring sunshine. He was looking proudly at the boys, “his sons,” because he saw them as his children in a certain sense. Of course, he didn't think of all of them with equal affection. He tried to be impartial, but if he wanted to be honest with himself, he had to admit that he remained practically indifferent to some, while others stood quite close to his heart.
And of all of them, he regarded Maverick as if he were his child the most.
He was relieved when he spotted that familiar crown of dark hair in the crowd. His gaze is disconcertingly similar to his father’s, he thought, while he was watching the younger Mitchell cut through the group. Maybe that was why he felt so close to the kid; he often terribly missed his late good friend, whom he could get back a little through Maverick.
Pete “Maverick” Mitchell: Although he has to learn a lot about teamwork, at the same time he is willing to do whatever it takes to help others selflessly. He is exactly like his father. He has the same fire blazing deep in his soul, and he is as brilliant a pilot as he was. He is often hotheaded and stubborn, but also persistent, daring, and all instinct. His unique solutions and unpredictability, in the best sense of the word, might save lives up there. It’s a pity he couldn’t save Goose, but I hope this terrible slap will eventually bring something positive out of the boy. He is here now, still standing, and didn’t give up flying.
Viper thought this proudly; it was the truth, and he didn’t expect anything less from Duke Mitchell’s son, who had just reached the pair who were holding the trophy.
Tom “Iceman” Kazansky: In a lot of things he is the absolute opposite of Maverick: by the book, calm, meticulous. Of course, he is only human, and contrary to popular belief, he can also make mistakes. Ever since Hop 31, I can see the remorse in his eyes when he looks at Maverick. But he didn’t get his call sign without reason. It’s not only in the air where he can show cold indifference while doing his job outstandingly, as if the circumstances and the events did not affect him at any level.
Meanwhile, the two rivals were shaking hands. Viper let his gaze linger on them for a moment.
Hmm…fire and ice… Although none of them are aware of it, these two kids could perfectly complement each other up there, if they could put aside their rivalry and antipathy towards one another.
Viper knew if that had been the case from the first day, Goose could still be here. Naturally, this didn’t mean he blamed either pilot, but he felt both still had something to learn about cooperation.
He suddenly remembered his two sons, who were about as old as the two pilots. Up to this day, they could always find something to argue about, yet when needed, they would stick together and go through fire and water for each other.
Maybe one day Maverick and Iceman will also realise that they are the two leaves of the same branch.
After their handshake, Mitchell stepped away, and Kerner, hugging Kazansky’s shoulders again with his right arm, drew his pilot closer to whisper something in his ear.
Ron “Slider” Kerner: A little bit more muscle and a little bit tougher appearance, but he holds the same devotion and loyalty towards his pilot that Goose had.
The corner of Viper’s mouth turned upwards into a small smile as he watched the two men.
They are a good pair, Kerner and Kazansky, and they took the trophy deservedly, he stated to himself before his gaze slipped to the next pilot-RIO duo.
Rick “Hollywood” Neven and Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe: Another excellent pair, two real team players, and in that area they far surpass everyone else here. Even the best could learn a lot from them. They are…
“Mike!” Jester’s voice interrupted his contemplation as the man stepped towards him with a serious expression on his face. Viper felt his tension and immediately knew that something had happened…
“Orders arrived,” Jester said, holding up a few white envelopes and giving him the one with his name on it. Viper quickly took it from him, opened it, and while he was reading it, the smile slowly disappeared from his face.
Has the time come so quickly...? Viper wondered but asked another question out loud, half-guessing the answer. “Who are the orders for?”
“Ice, Slider, Wood, Wolf, and Maverick…” Jester said without looking at the envelopes. He had obviously already checked them.
Hearing the same names he had previously been thinking about, Viper felt as if he had called this mission to life with his mere thoughts. A mission, which, if successful, would be an enormous opportunity for the boys to learn to work together… But if they fail… No, he didn’t want to think about that now. Going through Goose’s death had already been more than enough.
“Let’s go, don’t waste time!”
For the second time within a few minutes, Jester’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Gesturing with the envelopes, he indicated that they should give them to their addressees. So both men started to walk with determined steps toward their celebrating students, knowing very well that they would soon spoil the mood.
“Gentlemen!” Hearing Viper’s voice made everyone fall silent immediately. And even as he tried to soften the edge of the situation with a little bit of humour, he still felt the tension growing inside him with every sentence. He was sure the boys would feel the same but tenfold. “I hate to break up the party before it really gets out of hand, but there is work to be done. Some of you have to depart immediately. We have a crisis situation.”
“Iceman, Slider. Hollywood, Wolfman. Maverick.”
Jester gave the envelopes to them and they started to read the letters immediately. Meanwhile, Viper’s gaze was constantly on Maverick’s face, trying to figure out what he felt, and he saw surprise and some uncertainty. This mission could decide the pilot’s future, whether he would be able to continue flying. The fact that he appeared today was only the first step, a kind of declaration of intent. But whether he could shake the burden of the recent events off his shoulders and move on, only such a risky situation as this would be able to decide.
I’m going to support you whichever way you go… But damn it!… You were born to fly…
And before he could think through what he was doing, he had already said out loud what was deep in his heart, with a reassuring smile towards the pilot.
“Maverick, you’ll get your RIO when you get to the ship. And if you don’t, give me a call! I’ll fly with you.”
Even though the words came out of his mouth so suddenly, he meant what he said. It wasn’t just an empty, consoling promise. For a moment, Duke Mitchell’s face flashed in his memories as if he were asking him to take care of his son. And Mike Metcalf nodded to his friend in his thoughts, promising to do everything in his power to protect Pete. He felt he owed his friend at least that much. And he could see in Maverick's eyes how grateful the pilot was for his support.
The five men soon disappeared from the celebrating crowd since a COD aircraft was to leave Miramar within the hour and transport them directly to the USS Enterprise stationed in the Indian Ocean. The rescue operation had to be launched within 24 hours.
That night Viper couldn’t fall asleep very easily. Deep in his thoughts, he was staring at the ceiling, on which the dull lights filtering in from outside painted strange patterns. His mind was constantly on the mission, and he counted the time to himself.
They must be there by now, and then the briefing will start soon. It will assign whose task will be what, which pairs have to take off in the first wave, who will be the spares, and within a few hours it will begin…
He looked at the odds, considered the dangers, whether they would have to engage in a dogfight. Then he began to think about the formation in which the pilot-RIO pairs would launch on the mission.
Iceman and Slider will most certainly be in the front line. Will they risk sending up Maverick alongside them?
If the two pilots could cooperate, as he had contemplated earlier, victory would be almost certain in the case of a fight. On the other hand, he had to admit that sending up that duo would involve quite a lot of risk too.
What if they are unable to work together even in a real situation? Or if Maverick freezes in the middle of a dogfight? As painful as it is to say, ever since Goose’s death he hasn't flown nearly as well as before… He just hasn’t been himself up there. But his abilities are still there, and if those were to emerge again, they could be crucial in an encounter…
He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, shaking his head with a bit of resignation.
It will more likely be a safety game, and Hollywood and Wolfman will fly at Iceman’s wing. He continued his speculation.
Just before he finally fell asleep, he remembered his promise to Maverick. Will they be able to give him a RIO? Or will I be the one to fly with him in the end? Will I be able to support Duke’s son, not just with words but with actions too?
This question was his last coherent thought before sleep finally claimed him to itself.
When a ringing woke him up in the very early hours of the morning, Mike Metcalf’s first thought was that he had to go, that he would be the one to fly with Maverick. He felt a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety while approaching the telephone. And by the time he reached the receiver, he had pretty much thought through what he needed and how much time it would take him to be ready for departure. He was sure he had to leave as soon as possible, as the mission couldn’t be delayed for long.
So he picked up the receiver quickly and spoke into it with a determined voice.
“Commander Mike Metcalf speaking!”
When the call was over, Viper held the receiver next to his ears for at least another two minutes, before he finally lowered it very slowly with a slightly shaking hand. Then he tried to calm his wildly beating heart with long, deep breaths. But his attempt to collect himself was in vain…
He was right. The call was in fact from the USS Enterprise, but not because they needed his assistance as a RIO and wanted him to depart immediately. No, they had called to inform him that the five men who left Miramar yesterday to fly the rescue mission had never arrived on the carrier…