"Nine gold rings" Ch03 – "Onwards and upwards"
A little "what if" AU inspired by Season One, exploring some plausible (if not-publicly-canon) moves on the "pairings" front in mid-season and commencing in the spring of 1996. No links at all to any of my other stories as at August 2021.
A/N: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any character created by myself". See Ch 01 for all the disclaimers.
Summary: this is a fictional story, in a fictional (slightly) Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Comments and PMs and suggestions are most welcome. All mistakes are mine. Mike
Canon: Canon Episode: "A New Life (S01Ep01 July 1995); "Skeleton Crew" (S01Epfinal, delayed broadcast from June 1996); "Crossing the Line" (S02Ep03) First broadcast 31Jan1997.
A/N: 22-Dec-2021. Kudos prize goes to the reader who worked out "eight out of nine" of the gold rings in the title (take a bow, anonymous guest!). Yes, it is a pair of wedding bands, paired with a Captain's stripes and a Commander's stripes. I also extend my grateful thanks to MTC29 for the suggestions on Tom's career path, which we have debated over the months since Chapter Two back in September. Thanks mate and Happy Christmas.
In this episode, published on 22-DEC-2021, we follow Tom's thoughts as he sails away from Alison on yet another cruise.
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Friday 26th April 1996, 19:52hrs CET
Fantail smoking area, stern of USS Seahawk; on station in the Adriatic Sea
During April, Tom had found himself progressively spending more time on the fantail of the Seahawk, thinking about a younger blonde attorney who had comprehensively upended his world after that trial in Naples. Just *how* had he agreed to spend a very friendly and enjoyable weekend with her? She definitely had fire and character, along with the obvious brains and beauty. She also challenged him and was, in general, a pleasure to be around. So, what of their future?
At least, being in widely-different chains of command, there would be no "fraternisation issues" to concern their future plans.
But what were those plans?
Tom drew on his cigar and pondered life, as the Seahawk powered through the seas leaving an arrow-straight wake to mark her path.
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It was clear from Alison's letters that she was interested in progressing their unexpectedly-sudden friendship and developing the nascent relationship between them. Tom was beginning to think, with ever-greater certainly, along similar lines.
He reviewed his long and distinguished career. Since Vietnam, he had carried on flying whilst Bill Ross (with Vicki waiting for him at home) had moved on to "driving ships". Having Bill Ross as his skipper for this cruise on the Seahawk merely underlined how, if Tom was looking for an admiral's stripes (along with the benefits and pension which – he had to admit – was something that he needed to consider as the years went by) he'd need to expand his skills repertoire. He didn't want to run out of sky without having a follow-on career already lined up.
Smoking once of his favourite brands of cigars, he reviewed his life. On balance, life was pretty good – especially since Alison had landed, heels first, in said life about six weeks earlier. He had survived Vietnam (admittedly by a whisker on the night of the Don Bien massacre back in '68) and he had enjoyed the technical superiority of the Gulf War (despite the nagging suspicion that President Bush had left "unfinished business" in the desert with the decision to halt once Allied forces had reached Baghdad).
He had a suspicion that, at some unspecified future date, "his" Gulf War might need to be re-named to "Gulf War One". Truth be told, his near-miss over Bosnia (with young "Hammer" bringing the badly-damaged Tomcat back to the ship and enabling the medics to save him) had shaken his previously-inviolable faith in his skills and experience.
And yet…
Hammer senior hadn't returned from that Christmas mission over NVA territory a quarter-century before. Tom knew that "young Harm" (now renamed to "Hammer" by his peers in that impromptu flight-deck ceremony) had some longer-term plans around setting up home with the young Diane Schonke.
Tom had noticed Diane on the cruise and she had sought him out once she had discovered that he was Harm's godfather.
She had impressed the CAG with her intellect, poise, charming personality and her arrow-straight determination to get it together with Harmon Rabb Jr once the cruise had completed. She had stated to him that she was ready to "go exclusive" after a final fling ashore in Italy. Although she had been landside in Italy during Harm's trip to the Seahawk the previous year for the Arutti investigation, she had impressed Tom. She had a confidence and maturity which, Tom was sure, would help to complement Harm's typical "fighter-jock" confidence (which Diane had laughingly – but honestly – re-branded as "simple arrogance").
Years earlier, Tom had been mightily impressed by Diane's near-instantaneous decision to reserve her commission and help Harm through the painful rehabilitation from his crash, once he had emerged from Bethesda. As Harm had explained in 1994, she had rocked up at Grandma Rabb's home in the Pennsylvania hinterland, with a bottle of champagne in one hand, a suitcase in the other and a beautiful smile to greet him.
Tom was absolutely certain that young Harm's successful recovery (which would eventually lead to Harm saving Tom's life on that dark 1995 night) was down to the encouragement of the spunky crypto officer who was, now in 1996, still beavering away in the bowels of the ship somewhere forward of his smoking seat at the stern.
There seemed to be something bothering Diane, but she evidently had decided not to burden Tom with it. He hoped that she would sort out whatever it was, before she headed ashore to meet Harm.
Tom wished the best for Harm and Diane as he smiled to himself; he could foresee Harm and Diane "making plans" once the Seahawk docked in Norfolk a few months hence. He wouldn't be there himself to see the two lovebirds as they re-united. As was customary, he would be leading the Combat Air Group from the Seahawk before she docked in Norfolk, delivering an impressive display of air power as the Air Group landed into Andrews – where he expected to find "his" blonde lawyer (hopefully in civilian attire so that he could fully appreciate her "welcome home" greeting) standing in the family lines! This homecoming would be a new experience for the CAG - and one which he intended to embrace with both hands.
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He knew that there would be another cruise, setting off later in the year and, this time, heading further south across the Atlantic and around Cape Horn to take up station east of Africa. He was looking to watching the "Crossing the Line" ceremony on the Seahawk's deck, where young sailors would have the chance to engage in a longstanding naval tradition and "meet King Neptune".
Tom would be greeting new aircrew, newly-qualified pilots and technical crews, all of whom he would work up into another slick fighting machine alongside the Air Boss, ready to deliver the bidding of the US Government through the USN chain of command. Bill Ross had already initiated the senior officer working group to prepare the longer-term plans for the next deployment.
For the first time in a while, Tom was beginning to think about "what comes next?"
He would need to have a serious conversation with Alison when they met up in the States later in the year - a conversation to be held *after* the actual homecoming, of course!
Tossing his cigar butt into the sea, Tom headed back to his cabin.
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As things would turn out, Tom would end up flying inland just as Alison was heading down to Norfolk to "support" Harm in the investigation into Diane's death. She was comfortable in her posting at Falls Church – and had the confidence of the newly-appointed JAG, RAdm "AJ" Chegwidden. He already had her pegged as a great litigator, but she had admitted to Tom that Chegwidden had concerns around her investigative experience. Thus, this case in Norfolk was a good chance for her to shine. Which, in turn, mean that she had a good career path within JAH and within JAG HQ.
So – if they were to make a "go" of this relationship, Tom was probably the one who would need to make a move.
As their summer weekends together became more-intense, Tom and Alison agreed to move to the "exclusive" stage of their relationship. He was pretty certain that he had found "The One" and she was happy to take herself off the "cattle-market". In truth, a near-miss around a potential sexual-harassment suit had opened her eyes to how "friendships" might be misconstrued.
This meant that, when Tom decided to make a move, Alison was ready - and she accepted his proposal.
In the back of his mind, Tom also considered Harm's predicament and missed opportunity. Harm had waited for Diane to return from the cruise, so as to plan their future – sadly to be denied by the still-unresolved matter of her murder.
So Tom and Alison set a date for the end of his next cruise, which would see him landing back into the USA in 1997.
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Monday 27th January 1997, 16:08hrs ZULU
CAG's cabin, USS Seahawk; eastern Atlantic.
Tom ripped open the simple blue envelope and relaxed as he read Alison's latest letter. The words from his fiancée were keeping him sane and grounded for now.
He smiled: "grounded" was a word which had been bandied about quite frequently in recent days.
A rookie F-14 driver named Marilyn Isaacs had been posted to the ship with the latest batch of nugget drivers, to complete her training. As was common knowledge in the USN aviation community, you are never really a naval aviator until you have made your first trap.
It had rapidly become clear that Isaacs had skipped lessons, forgotten key points or (as he wondered) simply experienced an "out-of-body-and-absent" incident causing her to miss the training points in several lessons, several times during her training. Tom could think of no other explanation (apart from alien abduction!) to account for her truly-unimpressive flying record since she had materialised on the Seahawk.
Whatever happened, it was never her fault – and the stuck record was beginning to grate with Tom (and several other senior members of the shipboard aviation community).
He reviewed his notes, mindful that his very best F-14 driver was also female. The history of Marilyn Isaacs' "flying history" made depressing – and potentially dangerous – reading as he perused the LSO log:
"O-s.C.B."
"E.G.A.R."
"D.N.K.H."
He sighed once more. He had no choice now. He'd have to take her out of the air.
Carrier deck operations were acknowledged to be the most-dangerous type of flying (he thought back seven years to his godson's failure to land straight!) and it was painfully clear that young Marilyn needed more time, more "seasoning" – but on a landing strip which didn't move in three dimensions at night! He was happy to support her future return, but for now she was seriously sub-optimal for the role.
He was also certain that he wanted her to survive long enough to get her crap together, straighten up and fly right. The message from Washington about mixed-gender aircrew was being hammered home with all seriousness. However, such insistence did not mean that Tom Boone was going to compromise on the quality of his staff.
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He knew that he was fair in his determination to bring out the best in *all* his pilots and their matched RIO team-mates. As he had discussed with Bill Ross as they started this cruise (once more building upon the Seahawk's "first into battle" motto where it came to forward-deploying female naval aviators in the front line of combat operations): "Bill, I really do not care if they have lumps under their flightsuits or if they arrive on deck swaggering with rampant testosterone to annoy their female colleagues – I need the best, most-able naval aviators to build the squadron, Skipper – period."
Ross had nodded his agreement, with a minor side-trip into the new edicts on equality emerging from Washington. The name of Congresswoman Adele Long had intruded into the conversation.
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Then Tom had his "Oh, holy crap" moment of this cruise.
It transpired that Marilyn Isaacs had logged a complaint with the IG alleging sexual harassment. Apparently she had not appreciated being forced to slow-dance with "Skates" (who had materialised at the start of the cruise and was standing tall – metaphorically head and shoulders despite her physical height – above all the other RIOs at the top of the performance board).
"You have got to be shitting me!" This was beyond belief!
Tom began to seriously think about making a career move – he'd need a year of deep-draft command before he would qualify for his first star and the wide gold strip which went with it on the cuffs of his Service Blues.
He knew that Alison would welcome the move if he made it. She had, in her most-recent letter, admitting to feeling broody for the first time in her life. A lady's wishes should be respected, Tom thought. Time to get the honeymoon scheduled and then get under way with "family life".
Just at that moment, he was piped to the bridge – where Bill Ross informed him that a JAG team was on the way, prompted by the Isaacs complaint.
Later in the evening as the outside air began to cool, Tom took a stroll around the hangar deck before turning in. He noticed the chubby blond PAO (what was her name? Oh yes, Sims) drilling a four-team of maintenance crew into an honour-guard using steps lined up against the fuselage of a bent helo which had been pushed into the corner of the hangar a few weeks back.
"Preparing for our JAG visitors, Ensign Sims?"
She came to attention and saluted him. "No sir, we are forming an honour guard for another visitor, from DC."
Tom returned her salute. "Oh; who's honouring the Seahawk with their presence?"
"Congresswoman Adele De Long, Sir." Harriet was her usual enthusiastic and bubbly self as she relayed the news.
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"It never rains, but it pours."
Tom strolled away, thinking mutinous thoughts to himself. This really filled his cup of disenchantment to overflowing.
"Ah, screw it. I may just need to give up my commission and retire, if I cannot manage and deliver naval aviation teams to the best effect."
Then he thought once more of Alison - the future might not be looking all that bleak after all...
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Wednesday 29th January 1997, 14:19hrs ZULU
Bridge, USS Seahawk; eastern Atlantic.
Bill Ross surveyed the arrivals with his customary cynical frown.
"CAG – doesn't that look like Diane Schonke in the USMC uniform alongside Hammer's son?"
"Holy crap Skipper – you're right. What a hell of a tragedy. Anyway, for today's JAG visitation I was expecting an investigation team of Rabb, our former PAO Lt Roberts and another officer by the name of Mackenzie."
"Well, this could be interesting, CAG."
"Indeed, skipper; indeed."
He looked down once again at the flight deck - it really *could* be Diane Schonke walking alongside Harm. However, having attended her funeral Tom was certain that some mystic event was intruding once again into the life of "Young Harm".
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The investigation took a couple of days; eventually, Congresswoman De Long over-ruled everyone to insist on Isaacs being re-instated to flight Ops.
With a heavy heart, Tom wrote up the instructions and posted them.
Three hours later, two of the appointed RIO team had "taken themselves off to the medical centre" within 20 minutes of discovering who their driver would be for the night-flying exercise.
It did not require a genius to work out what was going on.
The crews spoke to each other; everyone knew about the "Marilyn Isaacs creative approach to F-14 landing" which had been on full display for the duration of her time aboard.
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With a heavy heart, Tom buttonholed his most dependable and most-promising RIO.
"Skates, I am going to have to pair you with Isaacs for the night exercise."
The only thing missing was the speech-bubble above Skates' head. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking the "Oh shit" reaction from her facial expression and body language. As he looked into the young woman's eyes, Tom realised that Skates was experiencing a bowel-loosening moment of dawning fear-inspired realisation. But she held firm. Looking down on the crown of her head, he noticed a single grey hair. "God, I hope she lives to turn grey naturally" was the thought which popped, unbidden into his mind before he focussed once more on the problem in hand.
He reassured her. "Skates, I will owe you."
Almost inaudibly, Skates' response of "only if I make it back" was one of the most-worrying statements that Tom Boone had heard in many years of naval aviation. But an order was an order and – God bless her – Lt Beth "Skates" Hawkes had her order to carry out.
At least he didn't have to worry about a misogynistic LSO giving unfair wave-off go-arounds tonight (as had happened the previous year with Cassie "Lobo" Puller and that muppet who had made his dislike far too public before Harm's investigation with Kate Pike had found the truth).
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Everything was aligned to give Isaacs the best opportunity to perform.
Tom only realised 20 minutes later that he was standing on the bridge with his fingers crossed.
At the same time, some instinct had caused Harmon Rabb to position himself nearer the flight-deck – a piece of premonition and pre-planning which would eventually save Skates from going through the screws.
As the inevitable happened, Tom turned to look steadily – and, to his surprise, unemotionally – at the Congresswoman as Marilyn Isaacs' £30million funeral pyre spread across the deck.
"He's got one" one of the fire crew shouted, as Harmon Rabb emerged from the smoke with the petite form of an unconscious naval aviator in his arms.
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Friday 31st January 1997, 12:19hrs ZULU
Bridge, USS Seahawk; eastern Atlantic.
The inquiries were completed. The mishap investigation had assembled all the evidence needed. Harm and Tom had shared a cigar on Vultures Row the night before – and Harm had explained the intense sense of "déjà vu" which he had experienced less than a month earlier in the White House Rose Garden as the conversation turned to his new Marine colleague.
Tom wished his godson well and he understood the younger man's dilemma. To be working with a woman who was – to all intents and purposes – a clone/twin of the late Diane Schonke would unnerve even the most-stable of people. Tom made a bet with himself: "He'll either bed her in a month or treat her like the little sister he never wanted". Somehow, Tom wasn't certain which way Harm would jump.
But, with a heavy heart, he knew that he had a letter to write before the COD departed. The letter, to Marilyn's family as next-of-kin, would accompany the pathetically-light coffin on its journey back stateside.
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Damn, this need not have happened.
But Tom knew what was coming next. He needed to sit down with Bill Ross – after he had written to his Alison.
It was time to look forward – and his blonde JAG lawyer figured front and centre in those plans.
A/N: views, reviews, suggested next steps via PM please?
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End of "Nine gold rings" Ch03 – "Onwards and upwards"
Mike, United Kingdom, 22-12-2021