A/N: The next two chapters take place during the Season Three opener, Ghost Ship. I pretty much follow the episode, while exploring Harm's thoughts. There are a couple of different twists. I'll deviate more from what we saw on the screen in future chapters, so hang in there!

Ghost Ship

Alameda Naval Air Station
September 23, 1997

Lt. Cmdr. Harmon Rabb Jr. stepped out of the Navy issued sedan and onto the dock. He paused for a moment to look at the now retired USS Hornet. Funny how he once thought the ship was massive in size. It was small compared to the Nimitz class carriers he once served on, but in the eyes of a three-year-old, everything looked big.

He and his partner, Major Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, were here to investigate the murder of an unidentified Naval Aviator. A salvage crew found skeletal remains in the void between the inner and outer hull. From all accounts, he had been sealed in the space since the Vietnam era.

Mac was Harm's third partner in two years. After he got over the initial shock of her uncanny resemblance to Diane, the two of them settled into a comfortable working relationship. Sure, he'd sandbagged her the first time they faced one another in court, and the feisty Marine was quick to make her displeasure known.

When the trial was over, she came to his apartment with a peace offering of food. They had sat on his bed to eat, as the loft was still in disarray. The fact she was comfortable being in his bedroom, after having known him such a short time, was a bit surprising to Harm. Not that he ever had trouble getting a woman into bed.

But he and Mac worked together, and he'd learned after his weekend fling with Kate Pike sleeping with your partner wasn't the wisest idea. Being together in the office was a little awkward after that. Although she'd never said it, Harm often wondered if it was the reason Kate requested a transfer from JAG headquarters.

He vowed never to make that mistake again. At any rate, when Meg Austin came on board, he thought of her like a younger sister. When she transferred out shortly after the investigation into Diane's death, Harm learned Admiral Chegwidden was partnering him with a Marine major. He soon discovered he'd met his match. Not only was Mac of equal rank, but she was also tough and strong-willed.

So what if she tended to lean toward the side of women officers? He learned that when they were sent to investigate a sexual harassment charge on board the Seahawk. Mac was quick to believe Lt. Isaacs over the CAG until she learned the facts. But she also knew women had to face a lot more obstacles to succeed in the military.

And if Harm would admit it, he tended to lean on the side of aviators, unless they were inferior pilots like Isaacs. He and Mac didn't always agree, but both had a high regard for the truth.

In the short time since they had become partners, they had already been through a lot together—their first case involving Mac's uncle at Red Rock Mesa, investigating the crash of an F-14, trips to Scotland and Columbia.

But it was when they took a day of leave to go flying, that their friendship began to deepen. Something happened between them out in those woods. It was the first time he'd told her about his father. Later, when they spent the night in a makeshift cave, Mac told him more things about her teenage years and her alcoholism.

If Mac hadn't already stabbed the crazed poacher who tried to assault her, he would have beaten the SOB within an inch of his life.

Mac walked over to join him, looking up at the ship. "Did you ever fly off her?"

Harm had to smile at Mac referring to the ship in the female gender, remembering her apparent disdain over him naming his Stearman after a woman. "She's too small to handle Tomcats, but I was on her once."

It was family day. His memories of that day were still fresh. He had followed his dad everywhere, tripping over knee knockers, marveling at the size of the planes on the flight deck. One of the highlights of his day was sitting in the seat of a fighter jet.

He still recalled his father's words, "Someday, Harm, a stick like that will take you to the moon."

Okay, he would never be an astronaut. He couldn't even fly at night anymore. But he had followed his father's footsteps and became a Naval Aviator. And though he wouldn't have chosen to give up flying, he was pretty sure Harm Sr. would approve of his second career in the Navy.

Mac and Harm made their way to the hanger deck and walked toward the area where the remains were found. Mac seemed a bit apprehensive—something out of character for her. Maybe it was Bud's comments about a ghost on another ship or rumors of the Hornet being haunted.

Harm scoffed at the idea. Why would anyone believe in something so ludicrous? He believed in absolutes, not in things unseen.

"What was that?" Mac gasped at the sound of a long, low moan.

"Metal contracting. The ship's cooling down."

But when they heard the sound of a hatch closing, followed by heavy footsteps, Harm pulled Mac to the side, telling her to dim her flashlight—something she didn't want to do. A few minutes later, they came face-to-face with a man who identified himself as Lt. Mark Falcon from Alameda homicide.

They exchanged pleasantries, then Falcon told them what he knew about the investigation, then invited them to dinner. He seemed pleasant enough—Mac certainly seemed to think so if the look on her face was any indication. She quickly explained to Mark about the Skoshi Tigers, something she wouldn't have known if not for Harm.

She's known Falcon all of ten minutes and seems enamored with him.

Harm wasn't sure how he felt about that. Shaking his head, he followed them to the flight deck. As he started to descend the stairs to the dock, a strange sensation enveloped him. He turned and looked toward the bridge. Someone was inside the ship. Someone was watching.

"Something wrong, Commander?" Falcon asked.

"No, nothing. Let's go eat."

Mac was waiting beside the car the following day when Harm stepped out of his quarters at the VOQ. "You have an overnight delivery from La Jolla," she said, handing him the package.

"I had my mom send me some tapes. Haven't listened to these in years." He got into the car, then put the first tape into a portable cassette player.

"And who would it be? Chris Cross, Billy Joel? Kenny Rogers?

"These are letter tapes from my dad. He sent them while he was on the Hornet. He came back from that tour."

"You still have hope that he's alive, don't you?"

Harm shook his head. "The odds are like one in ten million."

"Sooner or later someone wins the lottery."

"Probably not this time."

They listened in silence while Mac drove to the dock. Once there, she checked and found an email from Bud. They were almost sure of the identity of the murdered aviator.

Harm rattled off instructions for Mac to give to Bud.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a walk with my Dad."

"Harm," she said, placing her hand on his forearm.

"Yes?" He raised his eyebrows. Her action seemed like an intimate gesture. She must have realized what he was thinking and quickly pulled her hand away.

"Be careful."

"Mac, I've been navigating ships most of my adult life."

"I know, but… I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Worried about ghosts?" he teased. "I'll be fine. See you in a little while.

Harm walked along the hanger and flight deck while playing one of the tapes. Walking the same steps and listening to his father's voice made him feel a little closer to the man he adored. "Hammer" was only thirty when he was shot down—younger than Harm was now. If he had lived, he would be in his late fifties now.

If he had lived. What if Mac was right. What if he was still alive?

Harm shook his head. It was one thing for a sixteen-year-old to believe it, quite another for a grown man.

He was surprised to meet someone coming out of one of the ship's doors. The man introduced himself as Sibby Lonegro. He claimed to have once served on the Hornet and was now hoping to obtain salvage rights for her. "I was the one who found the body. Want me to take you to the place?"

"No, thanks. I'll find it myself."

"Just don't cross any chains."

Harm left Lonegro standing on the deck and went inside. He usually wasn't one to judge quickly, but there was something sleazy about the guy. Maybe it was because he wanted to turn the ship into razor blades, but Harm's instincts told him it was something else.

Shaking aside his thoughts, he continued to listen to the tape.

"Gotta turn this off now, Trish…"

Harm came to the O2 level, then rounded a corner.

And fell to the floor below.