five

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I HATED MAVERICK. Okay, no, I didn't hate him, I was more pissed off at him. I could tell why so many Admirals disliked him, because he never followed the rules. I was more annoyed at him because he was good, especially for his age.

I couldn't help but dislike him.

And class was never what we expected it to be, and I was always tired after. My energy drink stash was running low, and I needed to pick up some more tonight.

Even though Phoenix, Bob, and I did really well at our first dogfight, the rest of the training did go as well. Different people won the exercises every time, putting none of us on top. Which made it worse, because this was a competition, not only to see who was the best, but who would get to go on the mission.

It could be worse. It can always be worse.

But I always was proven wrong.

Just as soon as I thought we were finally free from training, Vice Admiral Simpson stopped me. "Lieutenant Clark, can you stay after class for a moment?" Cyclone asks me.

"Yes sir." I respond, and once he leaves, everyone starts oohing like this is elementary school and I've gotten in trouble.

I roll my eyes, sometimes the lack of maturity from these pilots was concerning.

I stay in the classroom, as everybody filters out. Coyote gives me a pity look, and I glare back at him.

I walked up to Cyclone, "You wanted to see me sir?"

Vice Admiral Simpson takes a deep breath and crosses his arms. "Look, for this mission, it's been requested that you'll fly in a double with a Weapons System Officer."

I was expecting anything else than this from Vice Admiral Simpson. Literally anything else.

"I work alone." I deadpan... until I realize who I'm talking to. "I'm so sorry sir. What I meant to say, is that I've never flown with a WSO before."

"I know. We're going to change that." Vice Admiral Simpson says with an annoyed sigh, which I didn't expect.

"Why the sudden switch so close to the mission?" I ask, confused by the orders and his attitude.

At this point, he takes his nose between two fingers as he explains, "Because Maverick says so. He's switching you and Phoenix. Starting tomorrow, Bob is your new wingman."

What the—? Fahshdisnfb. This was not happening. This. was. not. happening.

Error! Error! Error! An alert in my head goes off.

"I need to go talk to Maverick," I think out loud. This could not be happening. It was like somebody ripped out the floor from underneath me. Or being dragged into a riptide.

Cyclone turned to leave, but then turned back and said, "If you could talk some sense into that man, I'd appreciate it."

"One thing I've learned from Maverick from the past few days is that there is nothing sensible about that man." I joke, and there's a chuckle from my superior.

"Good luck Red Bull." Cyclone offers.

"Thanks, I'll need it." I say, wondering how I'm going to survive this detachment after being set up for failure.

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