Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER XII

There are a lot of things that I enjoy about being at Top Gun. I am able to hang out with Maverick and Goose, I've become close friends with Specs, and I get to spend a good chunk of my weeks flying. Best of all, it's all a part of my job. It does come with its downsides, however, and one of said drawbacks is debriefs. When it's about my own performance, I understand it, but being forced to go though the performances of several other pilots after a long day of work in a hot room can start to feel like torture after a while.

I lean my chin up against the railing in front of my seat, desperately fighting off the urge to just close my eyes. Specs must notice, as I'm jolted awake thanks to a swift kick in the shins. "You alright?" my RIO whispers in my ear. "Seems like you're starting to fade."

I nod, stretching my back out. "Had a bit of a late night." My gaze inadvertently glances over to the back of Maverick's head, a small grin spreading across my face. "How long have we been in here anyway?"

Specs looks down at his watch. "About an hour. Only a hour and a half to go." My friend quietly laughs at my groan. "What, you got some place you'd rather be? I don't know about you, but I find these hours I get to spend with you in a hot box with little ventilation to be some of our best bonding time."

I roll my eyes. "That's our entire work relationship."

"And your point is?"

"Lieutenants," Viper barks from the front and the two of us shoot to attention, "I assume that you both must be discussing something extremely important since you've deemed it more important than this debrief."

That's the other pitfall of Top Gun; feeling like you're in high school all over again. I shake my head. "Apologies, sir. It won't happen again." The commander nods before continuing his speech. I send a playful glare towards my RIO, who simply smiles in reply, even letting out a chuckle as I elbow him in the ribs.

"As I was saying," Viper continues, "the bogey has good position right here." He freezes the picture detailing the flight. "This is the moment of choice. The F-14 is defensive. He has a chance to bug out right here. Better to retire and save your aircraft than push a bad position. Now, you stay in that diamond another three seconds, that bogey is going to blow you out of the sky. You take a hard right, select zone five, you can extend a escape." He looks towards Maverick. "You made a bad choice. Charlie," he motions to the blonde in the corner, "your thoughts?"

She looks towards the screen. "Airplane one performs a split S? That's the last thing you should do, the MiG is right on your tail." The picture freezes once more as she stands, walking over to the pilot with furrowed brows. "The MiG has you in his gunsight. What were you thinking at this point?"

"You don't have time to think up there," Maverick answers. "If you think, you're dead."

"Well, that's a big gamble in a thirty million dollar plane, Lieutenant."

"He's right though," I speak up, causing everyone to look my way. Suddenly, the whole room is paying attention. Ice even takes off his sunglasses, eyes bouncing between Maverick and me. I clear my throat. "Ma'am."

Charlie tilts her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "How so, Lieutenant?"

"We can't just fly like robots. Sometimes, you just have to go with your gut. Commander Metcalf said himself that if they stayed in the diamond another few seconds they would've been shot down. Was the maneuver risky? Yes. Were there other choices? Sure. But, it's what Lieutenant Mitchell thought was the best course of action and, most importantly, it worked." I shrug. "Sometimes a textbook maneuver isn't the only possibility."

Though Maverick beams at me, Charlie looks much less convinced. "Would you still be arguing that it was a good possibility had you not known it succeeded?" This time, I keep my mouth shut. Though I agree that sometimes you need to just do and not think, there's no denying that some choices are smarter than others. The only leg that Maverick's choice has to stand on is that, somehow, it actually worked out for him. Had it not, there would be no way any pilot could defend the maneuver.