Rear Admiral: Maverick. Thirty-plus years of service. Combat medals. Citations. Only man to shoot down three enemy planes in the last 40 years.
[Cain looks through pages of Maverick's records]
Rear Admiral: 'Distinguished.' 'Distinguished.' 'Distinguished.' Yet you can't get a promotion, you won't retire, and, despite your best efforts, you refuse to die. You should be at least a two-star admiral by now, if not a senator. Yet here you are: Captain. Why is that?
Maverick: It's one of life's mysteries, sir.
Rear Admiral: This isn't a joke. I asked you a question.
Maverick: I'm where I belong, sir.
Rear Admiral: Well, the navy doesn't see it that way. Not anymore.
[pause]
Rear Admiral: These planes you've been testing, Captain, one day, sooner or later, they won't need pilots at all. Pilots that need to sleep, eat, take a piss. Pilots that disobey orders. All you did was buy some time for those men out there. The future is coming, and you're not in it.
[Cain faces the officer by the door]
Rear Admiral: Escort this man off the base. Take him to his quarters. Wait with him while he packs his gear. I want him on the road to North Island within the hour.
[surprised look on Maverick's face]
Maverick: North Island, sir?
Rear Admiral: Call came in with impeccable timing, right as I was driving here to ground your ass once and for all. It galls me to say it, but... for reasons known only to the Almighty and your guardian angel, you've been called back to Top Gun.
Maverick: Sir?
Rear Admiral: You are dismissed, Captain.
[Maverick proceeds to leave Cain's office]
Rear Admiral: The end is inevitable, Maverick. Your kind is headed for extinction.
[Maverick turns around]
Maverick: Maybe so, sir. But not today.
