OPHELIA BEAUMONT was a legacy. Her father was the four-star Admiral Langston Beaumont, callsign Panther, to which prestige and respect would always be attached onto. Especially whenever his name had been mentioned in a conversation. There was always an air of admiration encasing all that surrounds her at times when her family name was mentioned, knowing full well then and there that if this kid was aiming to follow through such an acclaimed dynasty, then perhaps she was the decorated Admiral's very daughter. They'd pat her on the back, tell her that it must've been a burden to have to live up to the reputation her father had left for her to surpass, then they would leave, whispering with bated breaths that maybe, just maybe, the reason she ever got here in the first place was because of the very prominence she despised. Nepotism, familial advantage, and all that.
Being a Beaumont wasn't always so denuding and grim, that much she could be confident enough to say. As a child, she would more often be with her aunt and cousin than she ever was with her actual family, but every moment with them had always brought a smile to the girl's face. Those treasured rarities were what she chose to cling to every time they would leave, with Mama being a naval surgeon and Papa being Admiral. She never really knew whether their next mission required such taxing efforts, if they had to put their lives on the line to assure the safety of everyone else. It was noble of them to be selfless, to do their best to serve their people and their country. They were heroes in their own respective ways, sure, but Ophelia Beaumont didn't need heroes. She didn't need high-ranking officials at home to tuck her to bed, read her bedtime stories, and prepare her favorite foods, she just needed her parents.
She grew up wondering why their priorities were never her, never their children ( yep, she had a sibling... oh wait, two, actually! ), which further blinded her as she reached the time of her life where deciding the course of her future laid heavily upon her shoulders. At nine, she wanted to be a princess. At eleven, she wanted to be an engineer, preferably the ones who help build buildings and properties. At thirteen, she wanted to be a doctor, like her mother but on a real hospital. Then, at fifteen, much to the chagrin of her parents who have dreaded this day to arrive, Ophelia Beaumont wanted to become a U.S navy pilot. There was no changing her mind then, as posters upon posters of different jet fighters and renowned pilots hung on her bedroom walls, a framed picture of the one time she had donned a flight suit when she was seven years old finding its place back on her desk, finally out of the boxes in the attic.
At that moment, Langston Beaumont regretted ever trying to appease her opinions regarding the Navy by taking her to the base for their very own "Take Your Daughter To Work!" Day. He'd watched her efforts to get there, her rekindled relationship to her cousin who had wished to do the same, and the sudden shift in her temperament, in her character. Like a flick of a switch for a bulb, this time it was - no, she was - brighter and better and stronger.
With the heart of a retired naval officer, he was nothing but proud for the woman she had become. She was fierce, doing everything in her power to get to her goal using only her smarts, talents, and immutable determination. He felt as if just claiming that he had been just like her at that age would constitute as gloating, after all, her drive and take-no-shits attitude was more than just admirable. With the heart of a retired naval officer who just so happened to be a father, however, he was nothing but fearful of the dangers she's yet to face, the sorrow she's gonna have to get used to experiencing on the long run, especially in that line of work. He wondered, at that exact moment, how she had survived through this kind of anxiety, waiting with anticipation whether or not they would even come home, as nothing more but a child.
People would wonder why she chose to live up to her father's bequest, despite his wishes against it. They'd ask, what makes you so adamant about becoming a Navy officer? She would smile soon enough, a grin that reflected who she was at moments when ambition glinted in her eyes like the embers of a flame. She was not Ophelia then, not the daughter of Admiral Beaumont, definitely not the same fearful girl who loathed the very things that gave her the feeling of freedom now. Because when I'm up there in the air, I don't just fly. I fucking soar. She was Commander Ophelia "Radar" Beaumont, and she was going to make her own fucking legacy.
D I S C L A I M E R
This is a work of fiction. Most of the characters here are based on the movie Top Gun: Maverick, which shows the usual occurrences of being a part of the Navy as pilots. Other names, businesses, places, events are either products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The naval terms and other information related to the Navy and such are not entirely accurate, but I did do a sufficient amount of research. This is very, very fictional because there are certain things about Ophelia that are very appropriated to fit her storyline. Just because it happens here, doesn't mean it could likely happen in real life. It will seem like a plot hole, I know, but this is once again fanfiction. So, if you want to read an entirely accurate book about the navy then go enlist there by yourself, don't expect this to be entirely accurate. I'm not a Navy officer, I'm an author.
Any resemblances to actual people, living or deceased, or actual events are purely coincidental.
I do not own any of the characters to be mentioned, only Ophelia, the Beaumont family, and some other characters I will show in the cast and playlist chapter. Their inclusion to the story will be very important, therefore showing that canon divergences will be made and alterations are bound to occur one way or another.
I do not own any of the pictures, videos, music, or any form of media in this book but I do own ownership to any or all of the modifications I made.
(Currently on a Top Gun brain rot phase and accidentally hyperfixated on the technicality that leads up to people getting their ranks in the Navy. My god, I hope this lasts.)
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher except for the use of brief quotation in a book review.
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