Disclaimer: Don't own JAG. Wish I did, for more than one reason—there would be stories coming out of London coordinating with Washington. etc.

A/N: Thanks for the "info" on the roommate remark. I vaguely remember watching that episode—but, given when it first aired, there was a lot of personal "garbage" going on in my life, it barely made an impact. Also, regarding the time Harm spent with the CIA—I appreciate somebody noting the "error"—I couldn't remember just how long it was. I probably won't "fix" it—simply because the updating technology is still a "hassle" for me personally. I think I could justify "not fixing" the error—it is a minor one—and in real life, people's memories pull that same kind of error all the time. May incorporate the correction somewhere else in the story. Thanks in any case.

A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting. I wasn't happy with the first draft—and am still not certain this "works", either. But a week is a week is a week. . . Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Safe Harbor

0900 (Military Time) 9:00 a.m. (Civilian Time)
Staff Call
HQ JAG
Falls Church, VA
The following Monday

The cases had been distributed and the meeting, to Greg's impression, was winding down. The general stood at the head of the table and glanced down at the last remaining folder in the stack he had brought in with him. "There's just one more thing. As you know," and there was a brief pause to acknowledge the missing senior officers, "there's been a lot of changes. There's still one more change, although this one isn't quite so drastic." Greg thought he saw a small twitch to the general's mouth. "Actually, this one is one I've been thinking about for a while—just never worked out until now. It's just as well, given the timing of everything." He had everyone's attention. The rustling in the room had stopped and Greg thought he might have been able to hear a pen drop if someone had been so careless. "I'm announcing a 'mentoring program'. This is something that has been going on in the private sector for quite some time in almost any industry you would care to name. Captain Rabb suggested this would be a good time to implement the program."

Greg looked around to check out the initial responses. So far as he could surmise, there was nothing but intense curiosity. In his own mind, he was slightly exasperated. Damn the man! He might not be physically in the office, but he was still exerting his own inimitable influence on events. Not for the first time, he wondered how the old CO, Admiral Chedwiggen, had put up with it for so long.

The general continued. "Mentoring, in this case, means once a week meetings between mentor and mentee to go over cases." There was a real grimace to the general's face, but there was no forthcoming explanation. "I'm pairing a senior attorney with a younger attorney. I think this will go a long way towards improving both the quality of the work done and productivity. Pairings will be posted on the bulletin board and in your individual mailboxes. Each pair will receive a list of expectations and goals, individually tailored to address the weaknesses and reinforce the strengths of each individual involved in the pair."

It was Commander Roberts who had the first question. "Is this supposed to be a partnership—like Colonel MacKenzie and Captain Rabb had when they first started out?" He shifted uncomfortably. "Can't help it—I miss them both."

The general smiled a little and then answered the Commander's question. "Yes—and no." The general paused. "Yes, in the sense the pair should be working together on certain assigned cases. No, in the sense the senior will supervise the work of the younger in cases not assigned to the pair." He paused, looked around at the people surrounding the table. "We have young, able, capable attorneys who are producing some fine work. However, that work could be improved on with the advantage of 'experience'"—and Greg's mind flitted back to that memorable lunch he had had with the then-Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, and Commander Roberts when the colonel had caustically commented on the temporary partnership between Rabb and himself—something about the pair being a blend of both "youth and experience'. Was this what the General was talking about? "Hopefully, that experience will help cut down on the costs of appeals, lawsuits, etc." He paused. "This mentoring program will start effective today. Unless there's anything else, that will be all."

Just then, Commander Roberts spoke up. "Uh—Harriet and I would like to invite all of JAG staff to our house for a picnic two weeks from this coming Saturday." He tossed a questioning glance towards the startled general. "If that's okay with you, sir? And, of course, you're invited, too." He shifted in his chair under the general's stare. "We didn't know about this mentoring program, but you might think of it as a good 'kick-off' for it."

The general waved his hand in the air. "By all means." Then he smiled at the commander. "My wife and I will be there, for sure. Maybe I'll see if Cammie can get away, as well." Greg was looking at the commander and noticed an uneasiness. The general must have noticed the uneasiness, too; he added, "It's okay if Midshipman Roberts is there, too."

What was that all about, anyway? Greg made a mental note to follow up on that as well.

The meeting broke up and he made his way to his mailbox—as did everyone else. He discovered the pairs' listing and found his name half ways down the list, as he made his way to the break room for another cup of coffee—and he discovered he was paired with Commander Roberts himself. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this—Commander Roberts was, after all, the most senior of the officers now in JAG. Was that supposed to be indicative of something? He found himself standing next to the general who was getting his own cup of coffee. "Something bothering you, Lieutenant?"

He shook himself back to "full alert status." "No, sir. Uh—what about this pairing?" and he indicated his name next to Commander Roberts.

The general leaned against the counter and looked at Greg. Greg managed to stay "at ease". "Are you surprised?"

"Uh—yes, sir."

The general took a sip of his coffee as he continued to observe the younger man. "Would it surprise you if I told you Captain Rabb recommended that pairing?"

Greg gulped. "Uh—yes sir, it would."

The general stood straight up as he started walking towards his office. "He thought you would make an exceptional attorney—once you learn a few things. And," Greg thought he saw the general throw him a quick glance, "he also thought the mentoring would round out Commander Roberts' own experience. You know, he and the colonel 'mentored' the commander."

Greg thought about that. He had another question. He cleared his throat. "Do you know if Colonel MacKenzie had any input into the suggestion?'

The general stopped in his progress towards his office and really looked at Greg. He tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. "As a matter of fact, yes, I know." He paused. Greg refused to speak—he was afraid his voice would give him away. "The colonel thought it would be a good idea, also." The general chuckled. "She thought the commander could teach you—and I quote the Captain directly, "'respect for a superior officer and some sense of ethics.'"

Oh. The general walked into his office and left Greg standing in the middle of the traffic pattern to think about what he had been told. He was jerked from his thoughts only when Commander Austin bumped into him, spilling his coffee again. This time, the liquid did not get on his uniform, and he sighed as he apologized to the commander. At least, he thought, the Rabbs hadn't caused him another dry-cleaning bill. "I'm sorry, Commander. The general said something that startled me," he bent down to clean up the little mess on the floor. He heard the low whispering chuckle of the blonde Commander.

"Seems to be happening to you a lot, Lieutenant. You really need to learn to adjust to change a little better." And she was walking off to her office.

He walked back to his office, sipping his coffee, and thinking. He knew the meeting between Rabb and the general had been a relatively lengthy one, lasting almost two hours. He knew one of the topics of discussion had been the fate of support personnel—which was why both Commander Matonni and Lieutenant Graves were just now preparing to move to London, Commander Matonni to act as "XO" and Lieutenant Graves as one of the legal aides/investigators assigned to the London office. He didn't know—had no way of knowing, really—current JAG staff had also been the subject of discussion. He sighed as he got to his office, sat down, pulled the nearest file, opened it, and started to work.

1300 (Military Time) 1:00 p.m. (Civilian Time)
HQ JAG
Falls Church, VA
Same Day

Greg stood in front of Commander Roberts's office, poised to knock when the Commander looked up and waved him in. He took a chair and sat up straight.

The Commander leaned back in his chair and studied the young man. "At ease." The Commander waved to a chair. "Sit down. Any questions, Lieutenant?" He leaned back in chair to study the younger man.

Greg shook his head as if to clear out the cobwebs. "Thank you, sir. Yes sir. Why you and me?"

"The captain and the colonel have always tried to helpful to new talent." He chuckled. "I should know. However," and the chuckle disappeared as rapidly as it had appeared. The Commander leaned forward with a frown on his face. "What did you do or say to both of them to set them both against you?"

Greg blushed. "Before I knew who she was, I 'admired' Colonel MacKenzie's figure."

Commander Roberts's face gained a look of shock. "Oh, man! You couldn't have picked a worse way to set her to be predisposed against you." He shook his head, and then tossed a grin Greg's way. "There's a lot to be admired there—God knows, I did the same thing."

"Oh?" This surprised Greg. He wanted to know the details. Commander Roberts "combed" his graying hair with both hands and looked off into space, as if remembering. "It was on a case many, many years ago—before I was married. It was on a case that took us to Florida—Miami, to be exact. I missed most of the 'action'—I was in Naples spending time with my future in-laws." He grinned. "First meeting. My father-in-law loaned me a jaguar to go back to Miami. By the time I got back to Miami and met up with the Captain and the colonel, they were just wrapping things up—as much as you can wrap things up dressed in casual 'civvies' in the Captain's case and a bikini in the colonel's case."

Greg's mind took a trip down the gutter with the thought of actually seeing the colonel in a bikini. He flushed as he saw the Commander look at him knowingly. "My guess is you probably came on too strong."

Greg protested. "She was in uniform! What's the difference?"

The commander leaned forward, as if to make a point. "The difference is, I asked for permission to speak freely before letting the colonel know she was a knockout in that bikini." Greg thought about that. The Commander continued, "Lesson number one: always show respect. Doesn't make any difference what the rank, gender, or situation is. Always let superior officers know you respect the difference between your youth and inexperience, what they have learned, and their rank, by the way," he added dryly, glancing at Greg's face.

Greg didn't know he looked like a fish with its mouth wide open, just waiting for food. He totally missed the grin that crossed the Commander's face as fast as lightening. Another question popped into Greg's mind and it was out before he could stop it. "What was the Captain's response?"

Commander Roberts waved a hand in dismissal. "He didn't say a thing. He was more astonished, I think, that I was driving a jaguar."

This surprised Greg. "I would have thought the Captain would have been upset, knowing how things turned out."

Commander Roberts leaned back in his chair and looked at the confused, younger man in front of him. "You forget a couple of things: one, the Captain and I go way back. Two. He knew I wasn't a threat to his relationship with the colonel." The Commander shifted the conversational gears quite abruptly, almost stripping them in the process. "How well did you get along with the Captain—really—on that case you were working with him on, anyway?"

Greg was startled and studied the Commander carefully before responding. Commander Roberts, he had heard via the grapevine, had thought he and the Captain had made the "Dream Team", similar to that of O.J. Simpson's so-called "Dream Team". He and the Captain had put on a show for the colonel when she had asked the same question, but he had the feeling, from watching the colonel's face, she had been hard put to keep her face straight at the notion he and the Captain were getting along quite well, thank you. Had she shared that belief with the Commander? She must have, since the Commander had dug deeper into the "facts" of the case and ended up pursuing a premeditated murder charge rather than releasing their client. He decided, in lieu of that fact, complete honesty was in order. "We butted heads." He paused. "A lot."

Commander Roberts nodded. "I'm not surprised. Colonel MacKenzie had commented behind every 'dream team' there is a nightmare. She's a good judge of character." His eyebrows knotted together in a concentrated frown. "Who came up with the new evidence, anyway?"

Greg gulped. "It was Captain Rabb's idea."

The commander nodded. "I thought as much. However, it was the colonel who encouraged me to dig a little deeper." He tossed a look towards Greg's way. "Let me guess, Captain Rabb made an observation and a suggestion and you 'forgot' to follow up."

Greg could only nod in the affirmative. The commander continued.

"Sloppy work, Lieutenant. I suppose that's one reason—although not the only reason—the general installed a mentoring program."

Greg swallowed his protest. Then he asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Just exactly how long have you known the Rabbs, anyway?"

Commander Roberts grinned that funny little smile that put everybody at ease immediately. "I've known the Captain ten years, although I was stationed on the Seahawk as public relations office when he first came to JAG. And I was there when he first met the colonel—she was a major, then—in the Rose Garden at the White House. That would have been, let's see, " the Commander's face concentrated in an effort to pinpoint the exact time, "nine years ago."

Rose Garden at the White House? Nine years ago? Greg really wanted to know about this. "Have the Captain and the colonel always had high-level contacts?"

The commander shook his head. "No. This was in the beginning, when the admiral first paired them together. They were introduced at the White House when Captain Rabb was presented his first Distinguished Flying Cross in an awards ceremony." The commander paused, as if he were reflecting on that first meeting. The phone rang and the commander picked up the phone. Greg got out and nodded to the commander in dismissal. Before he continued with the conversation (apparently with his wife), the commander put his hand over the headset and said to Greg, "We'll continue talking in the morning."

The pattern had been set. As long as both were in the office, these little "learning sessions" would be held at some point in the week, and they weren't very long—but were substantial in content. Greg walked to his office, deep in thought, as he started piecing together all the things he had learned about the now-departed partners/couple. He pulled out a legal pad and started making notes—he had discovered a long time ago, as an undergrad, it helped to write things down. It was a habit that served him well during law school, and he saw no reason to discontinue that habit now.

1300 (Military Time) 1:00 p.m. (Civilian Time)
HQ JAG
Falls Church, VA
The Following Friday

Greg saw the open door to Commander Roberts's office and stopped to pop his head in. "Do you have a minute, sir?"

Commander Roberts' head looked up from his computer screen, and motioned Greg into his office. "Sure. It'll be a nice break from this research."

Greg was mildly curious. "Can I ask what you're working on?"

"Sure. It's a case involving one of our Los Angeles class submarines. Seems to be some sort of weapons problem." Greg saw the frown on his face. Then Commander Roberts lifted his phone.

"Commander, I think I need your help on a case. Can you come see me?" There was a pause, and then Greg heard, "Thanks, Commander. I'll be here." He looked at Greg. "Commander Austin will be here in a few minutes. What can I help you with?"

Greg sat down and shifted in his chair, as if he didn't want to get too comfortable. "Submarines? I didn't think we did too many of those cases anymore. Aren't they a bit 'old-fashioned' with the Cold War over?"

Greg saw a frown peering out of Commander Roberts' face. "Lieutenant, the military never, ever gives up a major weapons component without a fight." He shrugged. "With the current situation, submarines can come in very hand for surveillance purposes." He didn't say anything more because Commander Austin stood at his door. "Come on in, Commander."

Greg saw that wholesome, toothy grin and heard the low, soft-spoken voice. "Commander, how long will it take for you to call me 'Meg'?"

Commander Roberts grinned and shook his head. "Probably never. I never did get comfortable with the idea of calling Captain Rabb 'Harm" and Colonel MacKenzie 'Mac.' Old habits die hard."

Commander Austin moved to the other chair in his office and sat down. "What can I do you for?"

Commander Roberts lifted a folder and handed it to her. "There seems to be a problem with the weapons systems in this submarine. I understand you've had some experience in this area."

She chuckled. "Word gets around, I guess. It's been a while, but I'll give it a 'go'." Her grin got wider. "If I can't find the problem, then I know people who can."

Greg saw Commander Roberts' eyebrows go up. "Webb?" He asked.

The female Commander shook her head. "Nope." There was a very brief pause. "And I'm not telling.'"

Greg chose that opportunity to jump into the conversation. He leaned forward in his chair and directed his gaze at the other Commander. "I take it you're familiar with submarines."

She shuddered. "Too much for my own tastes." She held up the folder Commander Roberts had given her. "Why not ask Commander Turner? He's the former 'bubblehead', after all?"

Greg saw the blush, faint though it was, cross Commander Roberts' face, as he shook his head. "This is a computer problem, from what I can tell. Commander Turner's in court all this week. And there are other reasons, too." Greg's curiosity was piqued, and he was about to ask when he got a warning look from Roberts. Instead, he turned to Commander Austin to ask her a question. "Did you ever serve on a submarine?"

Again, he saw her seemingly give herself an internal shake and saw the corners of her mouth turn down. "Yeah. Briefly—although it seemed like forever." Greg just lifted his eyebrows in a question. She continued. "I'm claustrophobic. The time Captain Rabb and I spent down under seemed like it would never end." The look on her face told Greg she was taking a trip down memory lane.

He prompted, "And?"

Again, the mental shake. She turned to look at him, and he found himself locked in a gaze with those "sunflower blue eyes"—at least, that's what he called them. "Captain Rabb found out about the claustaphobia after we were aboard. He purposefully made me angry at him to keep my mind off the fact we were 'buried' by millions of tons of water." She shook herself again. "That's the stuff of nightmares."

Commander Roberts chuckled. "I bet he was furious when he found out."

"No kidding." She looked at Commander Roberts and relaxed, just a bit. "I understand that wasn't the only time Captain Rabb was on a submarine." She chuckled. "Funny place for an aviator."

There was the famous Commander Roberts' grin. "He and the colonel had at least three assignments aboard submarines." Greg's eyebrows went up so high, Commander Roberts was prompted to comment. "Lieutenant, your eyebrows are going to join Captain Rabb's beloved F-14s in the sky if you don't lower them." He leaned back in the chair.

Commander Austin leaned back in her chair. "This makes for a nice break. And I'm intrigued. What were the assignments?"

Greg saw Commander Roberts' eyebrows come together in concentrated thought. "Let's see. I think one of the first—although I can't really remember for sure—was aboard the Watertown. In fact, there were two assignments aboard the Watertown. I remember hearing Commander Flagger couldn't sing their praises high enough or loud enough, although the second was a result of Congresswoman Latham's attempts to get the Navy to reconsider letting women serve aboard subs." He chuckled. "Opinion on that subject were all over the board." He sniffed. "I thought women didn't belong on subs. The colonel's attitude, after that particular assignment, was 'anyone who wants to be crammed into a tin can for months at a time is more than welcome to go." He chuckled, looked at Greg, and grinned. "Captain Rabb, however, thought—and I don't know how serious he was about this—thought there should be all-women crews!"

Greg sat back, startled. "Huh?"

Commander Roberts shrugged. "Captain Rabb likes women—and not just for the obvious reasons. He's been accused of being chauvinistic—there is that 'hero' complex going on there, but, for the most part, he values intelligence and integrity, no matter what 'package' those things come in."

"So, what happened?"

Commander Roberts shrugged again. "Nothing. The Navy didn't change its position, despite congressional efforts to get them to do so, although relations between Russia and the U.S. improved somewhat during that period. They were strained for a couple of weeks because the Russians thought the U.S. had collided—and sank—one of their subs, but Captain Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie helped prove it was one of the Russians' own torpedoes that did the dirty deed. I remember Captain Rabb was in some hot water for a while during that time—he was roped into the assignment because of his half-brother and his friendship with a Russian Army soldier. There was some suspicion over at the Sub service about where Captain Rabb's loyalties really laid, but those were cleared up after the whole thing came to light." He was lost in thought. "I remember their respective significant others were 'up in arms' over that assignment."

Commander Austin's comment was dry. "I bet." A pause. "You said there were at least two assignments aboard subs. Where was Commander Turner during this time, anyway?"

"I think—and I wouldn't bet my life on this—you might ask him, if you're really curious—but I think Commander Turner was stationed in 'Pearl'. Getting back to the Captain and the colonel, they were on board the Watertown, to hear them tell it"—and Commander Roberts' face reflected his memories, "the chief corpsman tried to kill them both."

Greg shivered. "Was it all that bad?"

Commander Roberts frowned. "I don't know. All I know for sure is Captain Rabb came back barely able to speak—something to do with damage done to his throat. The colonel came back looking unscathed—except for a burn on one of her arms and a bandage on one of her hands." He turned to Commander Austin.

"It sounds like the colonel and I should compare notes the next time I see her." This was Commander Austin's comment. She made a move to get up. "Commander, I'll get on this and get back to you ASAP."

"Thanks—and it's 'Bud.'" She got up and left the office, starting to peruse the folder as she made her way to her own office.

Commander Roberts turned his attention to Greg. "So, what can I do you for today, lieutenant?"

Greg frowned. He wished he had brought his notes in with him. "Sir, I've been 'studying' the legal record of Captain Rabb. He has such a tremendous legal record, I felt it worthwhile to see if there was anything I could learn." He felt helpless. "I know he's been called 'arrogant', 'self-centered', 'selfish'—and everything in between. Yet, from what I can tell, his won-loss record in the courtroom is impressive by anybody's standards—and more importantly, it looks as though justice was done, even when he lost." Greg had in mind especially the record behind the court martial of then SecNav Nelson's son. The man had disobeyed a direct order and Captain Rabb had fought valiantly on his behalf. Reading between the lines, Greg had concluded the outcome was truly in the best interest of the Navy—and Captain Rabb had done an extremely fine balancing act between meeting the 'political needs' of the Navy and working for his client. He shivered. He wasn't sure he could handle something calling for that much finesse. It wasn't the only time Rabb had done a fine balancing act between competing interests. That one stood out for a number of personal reasons.

Commander Roberts leaned over, picked up a loose pen and started 'playing' with it. "You could do worse than study that record. Understand, Captain Rabb is driven by emotion. If he senses something isn't right, then he will dig and dig and dig for the truth, no matter where it leads him, even if it's to the detriment of his client, even if his initial theories of a case are proven wrong." Commander Roberts got lost in his own thoughts for a few seconds. "I remember a case of what looked to be 'friendly fire'. It turned out the 'victim' actually committed 'suicide by friendly fire' because he was gay and couldn't face his father with the truth. I was the one who found out he was HIV-positive, but it was Captain Rabb who put the pieces together. He was so convinced it was murder, but he was quick to turn on a nickel when the evidence proved otherwise. His whole legal career is filled with cases like that." He leaned back in his chair. He could see Greg's confusion marching across his face. "You have to understand, Lieutenant, Captain Rabb's entire being is consumed with the pursuit of the truth—and he will use unconventional methods to uncover the truth in any given situation if something doesn't feel 'right'." He paused. "There was the case of the defense contractor, for example, whose cost-cutting methods proved fatal to two "Top Gun" pilots. Although he didn't like the defendant, he used his defense to go after the contractor. They ultimately paid something like a $10 million fine." He looked down at the pen he was toying with. "I got the feeling neither he nor the colonel thought that was enough," and he shrugged again, "but that's Washington for you." He glanced back up at Greg. "That was one case where he and the colonel were on opposing sides. In the end, both ended up doing the research that uncovered the truth." He put his pen down and looked back at the younger man sitting in the chair opposite him. "Do you understand?"

Greg shifted. "Sort of, sir. But where does the colonel fit into this puzzle, anyway?"

Commander Roberts chuckled. "The colonel provides the ballast for the Captain's emotions." He shook his head. "This runs contrary to the stereotype of men being 'logical' creatures and women being 'emotional-driven' people. I suppose it's because of their respective family backgrounds that made them like this."

"So what's the common denominator that they share?"

Commander Roberts' eyebrows went up. "It should be obvious. It's the search for truth and justice. I remember on one case, Captain Rabb told me the 'truth is everything'. He has demonstrated that over and over again, but it really came out in a very obvious way with his search for his father. The colonel was right behind him, step by step, never mind the Captain ended up facing an Article 32 hearing for murder and two very dangerous trips to Russia."

"Wow. That's dedication."

Commander Roberts frowned at him. "I suppose you could call it that—but, in Captain Rabb's case, it was obsession. I personally think—and you can keep this to yourself—his obsession with finding the truth about his MIA father both drew them together and kept them apart much longer than they would have been, otherwise. She demonstrated she really cared about him in a way that went much deeper than 'partner and friend'—but it also kept him from opening up sooner than he should have." He paused. "Again, this is confidential, but I heard his ward say he confessed he never really came to terms with his father's death and it cost him Big time."

Greg sat there and considered the thought. "But, sir, I lost my father, too. I'm not sure I understand why that should have kept him from opening up."

The commander leaned forward and his face got a focused look. "Lieutenant, this is something for you to really think about. You and the Captain are very similar in outlook, in attitudes. You are both considered arrogant, brilliant in your own way as the Captain is in his way, and both of you have gained a reputation as 'lady-killers', although in the Captain's case, it wasn't necessarily desired nor was it true. As I said, he really, genuinely likes women as people." He leaned back and the frown persisted. Greg got the feeling he should really pay attention to this. "I don't know you well enough to make that particular judgment in your case—time will prove or disprove that, I think—but I suspect underneath the arrogance is a real sense of insecurity. I know the Captain doesn't really like you—but I think that's a case of 'like repelling like'. However, the Captain also has an eye for talent and he would do anything he can do to advance your career—if you prove worthy of his trust. I think that's where the real questions lie, especially since the colonel isn't really sure of you, either." He paused. "I know that for a fact, because it came up in that case you and the Captain worked on together."

Greg sat there stunned. This was the first time someone had actually put in words and pinned a "cause" the clash between him and the Captain. It was something he hadn't considered, and he studied the older man across from him. He decided it was no wonder Commander Roberts was quietly gaining a reputation for being a brilliant litagator in his own right. He certainly didn't have the flair or sophistication Captain Rabb had projected. But he had discovered to his own dismay, looks could be deceiving.

Commander Roberts picked up from where he had left off. "I think that's one reason the Captain recommended to the General I be your mentor. Nobody has written you off yet—and the Captain always has the 'good of the service' always in mind—along with his client." He paused. "A very good example is the case of the aviator who was accused of murdering three Russian peacekeepers." He chuckled. "Aviators. They are something else, entirely." Greg just looked at him, waiting patiently until the commander continued. "This happened when the Captain went back to an active fighter squadron. He was in command of that same squadron, albeit for only a short time—not enough time to really make an impact—when the younger aviator went in for a kill against the given rules of engagement." He shook his head. "We should have won that case."

"So what happened?" Greg was genuinely curious. He had learned the hard way, Commander Roberts thoroughness was—well, thorough.

"Captain Rabb's eloquence and appeal to emotion." He looked at Greg. "You know the rules about trying a case?"

Greg searched his memory for any shortcuts he may have picked up along the way. He shook his head. The commander leaned forward, pen in both hands. His gaze was intense. "When the facts are on your side, argue the law. When the facts are against you, argue the emotion."

Oh. Only then did Greg begin to understand the Captain's reputation for being driven by emotion. You could have fooled him—from the Captain's legal record, it looked all logic and reason. But when you dug deeper, you found a whole lot of emotion, disguised as logic and reason. A twisted smile broke out on his face. The Commander leaned back in his chair. "I 'get' it."

"Okay. I think, unless you have other questions, that's enough for this session." The Commander's eyebrows were lifted in a question themselves.

Greg got up from his chair. "Thank you. That's a lot to think about. And, thank you."

The commander waved his hand and leaned over his desk as if to get back to work. "That's alright. That's what a 'mentor' is for. Will we see you at the picnic?"

Greg nodded. "Sure. Wouldn't miss it for the world."