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Disclaimer: JAG is the property of... well, technically the U.S. Navy, but the television show and characters belong to Paramount Pictures. All non-canon characters, except those related to the Hendrick Motorsports team.

Special Note about this story: While this is intended as a serious JAG piece, it is also a tribute to those who lost their lives in the plane crash outside of Martinsville, VA. On Sunday, October 24, 2004. It is intended to honor the victims, one of whom was a pilot about to head to Iraq. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Hendrick family and all those who lost loved ones in the terrible accident.

The plane crash will not be the central focus of the story, just a preamble into it.

Author's Note: Am I the only one who misses Chegwidden?

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Chapter 1: Dust in the Wind

All we are is dust in the wind.

Everything is dust in the wind
.

The phone rang in Commander Harmon Rabb Jr.'s office interrupting his search for a missing brief.

He gave up looking for the vanished paper work as he picked up the phone and turned on a small TV that sat on the corner of his desk. It was Sunday afternoon and he was missing all of the sporting events.

"This is Rabb," he greeted the caller. He stopped his channel surfing on the NASCAR race that was just ending. Rabb wrinkled his nose at the race results- Jimmie Johnson was shown as the winner.

"Yeah," he replied distractedly to the caller. He frowned at the television screen- there was something strange about the end of this race. Instead on going to the Victory Lane celebration as usual, a spokesman for NASCAR was addressing the reporters. He couldn't hear what was being said and concentrated on his call at the same time, so Harm turned his back on the screen.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to the person on the other end of line. "What were you saying?"

Harm listened intently for a moment.

"What?"

Ever so slowly, the commander turned back to face the television. He stared at the spokesman face with stunned incredulity.

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Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie took a deep breath before knocking on the closed door of Rabb's office. She stared at the ceiling through her bangs going over in her head what she was going to do.

Go in, state my query, get my answer, and get out. She told herself. And don't get sucked into his games!

She raised her fist to the door, blew the hair out of her eyes, and gave a rapid knock.

There was no answer.

Sarah frowned and knocked again, louder this time. Still no answer.

She sighed. Nothing ever went according to her plans when it came to Harm. With her jaw set at a determined angle, Sarah swung open door to Harm's office and froze.

He was standing behind his desk with a glazed-over stare and a deathly pale pallor. He was holding a phone to his ear, but it was evident that he was hearing nothing.

"Harm?" she entered the room and shut the door firmly behind her. "Harm, what's wrong?"

Rabb turned his gaze to her, but there was no recognition in his eyes.

Now Sarah was worried and she forgot her earlier annoyance with him as she walked over to him.

Standing next to the commander, she could hear the buzzing of the dial tone- there was no longer anyone on the line. Silently, she reached out and slipped the phone from his grasp.

"Mac?"

Sarah let the phone settle onto the receiver as she looked up at her friend. Harm didn't say anything further. Uncertain of what to do, she took hold of his hand. He barely responded to her touch.

In the background, the TV was still buzzing and a news report was being broadcast.

"The FAA confirms that a plane owned by Hendrick Motorsports did indeed crash into the southeast side of Bull Mountain, about 10 miles west of the airport in Martinsville, Virginia.

Nobody survived.

Hendrick lost his son, Ricky, a driver who retired with a shoulder injury two years ago and was being groomed to take over the business; his brother, John, president of the family organization; and John's twin 22-year-old daughters, Kimberly and Jennifer.

The company's general manager, Jeff Turner, and the chief of the team's engine program, Randy Dorton, also died.

The other passengers on the flight were Scott Lathram, a helicopter pilot for NASCAR driver Tony Stewart who was scheduled to ship out to Iraq next week with the Army Reserves; and Joe Jackson, a DuPont employee who worked on sponsorship for driver Jeff Gordon's No. 24 car."

Sarah closed her eyes and swallowed hard as waves of disbelief washed over her. She recognized the names, but one in particular stood out- Scott Lathram. He was a close friend of Harm's.

"Harm," she managed through the emotion choking her voice, "I'm so sorry."

Rabb's only response was to grip her hand as though she was the last thing he had on earth.