ALPHA STRIKE |rooster x oc|

chapter 3- the Hard Deck

Maverick left the briefing room stunned. They wanted him to teach again? Not only teach, teach a real mission with real consequences. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it. He looked back over all the details, analyzing every aspect he could see on paper. This was difficult, near impossible. The hardest part wasn't going to be mapping the course or teaching the recalled Top Gun graduates new skills, it was going to be choosing who would actually fly this mission. 

"We've recalled twelve Top Gun graduates who were all top of their class." Admiral Simpson, Cyclone, said as he pulled up a screen with the lieutenants that would be joining them the next day. Mav's heart sank as he saw Bradley's picture, but he almost completely lost it when he saw Clarke's. 

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Admiral Bates, Warlock, asked.

"You know there is." The admirals launched into discussing what had happened to Goose, how tragic. They then made it very clear that Maverick was to not treat Bradley nor Clarke with any sort of favoritism, to which Mav, of course, agreed. 

He spent the rest of the day looking over and over the mission parameters and details, racking his brain for any ideas. After he decided he'd done enough for one day he hoped on his motorbike. He drove aimlessly until he saw a small bar called the Hard Deck just off the beach. He decided to check it out after seeing a couple people in Navy uniforms walk in. Upon walking in, he saw that it wasn't too busy yet. The music was loud enough that people could still have conversations, but loud enough that nobody else could hear them. He glanced to the bar and saw that it was almost empty and took a seat. A few minutes later, someone walked up.

"Have you seen this guy? Dark hair, stubborn, and way too old to be riding that bike out there," 

"Hi, Clarke," Mav replied without even having to look.

"Hey, Dad. How'd you find this place? I never imagined I'd see you here," she replied as she sat next to him.

"What do you mean?"

"This place has been open for, oh gosh, forever, I guess. I don't know. It's a Navy spot, as I'm sure you noticed," she gestured to the many people in uniform. "We used to come here when I was in Top Gun."

"Hmm, it's a cool place. I like all that," he motioned to the ceiling that was covered in model fighter planes. He looked over to see Clarke's eyes wandering. "Go, mingle, whatever. I'll be fine for five minutes on my own." She thanked him with a smile and got up. He turned his attention to his phone.

"Pete Mitchell," a voice said. His head snapped up to see Penny Benjamin standing behind the bar.

"Penny? What are you doing here?"

"I bought this place a few years back. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were being shipped off to Mojave for pissing off that Admiral."

"Well, something similar happened, that's all I'll say." They continued talking for a minute, until mid conversation when Penny walked over to the large bell that hung from the ceiling and rang it loudly. The crowd erupted into cheers. "Did I miss something?" Penny pointed to a sign on the bar: Disrespect the Navy, a lady, or put your phone on my bar..."

"...and you buy a round." Penny finished.

"Everyone?"

"House rules, I'm afraid. You're lucky it's early." Clarke had watched the whole interaction go down and laughed to herself. She glanced over to the pool table and saw a face she hadn't seen since the Academy.

"Phoenix?" she asked as she walked up to a girl who was standing with a pool stick.

"Broadway! Oh my God, how've you been. Wait, are you in the detachment?"