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Kimber "Jugs" Benton

I still think that she's the prettiest sim, I've made so far.

...and she's in love with her CO and thanks to retiring from flying F-14s, she's happily able to go after him.

This...craggy old hunk of grouchy granite stone.

#Captain Kimber “Jugs” Benton #Admiral Toshio “Animal” Nakamura #sims 3 screenshot #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 storytelling #sims 3 blog #sims 3 screenshots #sims 3 family #sims 3 pictures #jagfanfic #jag tv show #JAGSims

Looks like my next week is going to be insane. Heard fanfiction.net might be in the death-throes of abandonment by the mods. Looks as if I’m gonna have to start porting my JAGfic over to Blogger to go along with my Sims fics. That way it’s all in one spot and I’m a happy camper.

Thank goodness for

Export and download fanfiction as EPUB, MOBI, or other formats

…so I can port my fics over as compressed HTML which will help me to put it up with all formatting intact on Blogger as individual blogs.

#jagfanfic #jag fic #jagtvshow #jag #jag fanfiction #JAG storytelling #Tosh Animal Nakamura #Meg Austin #Harmon Rabb Jr.#Sarah Mac Mackenzie #Is Fanfiction.net dead?#non-sims #Just what i need; anothet headache

I wanted to go deep into Harm’s thoughts in this interaction between Meg (who is dating Animal in the story “Settling In”) and Harm; regarding his ramp strike and really delve into how Harm was thinking:

This is one of the more hard-hitting parts of this story that I’ve worked on.

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"So…how is his wound healing up…any chance that he'll get into rehab before the end of the year?" Harm asked her.

"It's a waiting game, sir. I've been applying the antibiotic for his wound…and he's been changing the bandages judiciously. But it all depends on when the wound closes up firmly so that it doesn't come open again. The stitches on the Mercy helped, but it still needs some administering of antibiotic on a regular basis at every bandage change so that the wound doesn't get infected and heals properly." Meg informed him. "The doctor said about the first week of January is when they suspect that it will be healed enough that he can start working on getting his strength back in his arm…then it's over to his fleet air replacement group to refresh his aviation training."

"Yeah, he lives and breathes flying…"

"Just like you, sir." Meg responded, "He misses his Tomcat."

Harm nodded, he remembered Animal's love for flying and air combat – pitting his talent and tactics against another man in another flying machine and coming out the victor, whether it was on the TACTS range or whether it was over the sandbox for real. It was the same as how Harm felt about flying and fighting in the F-14 after he'd distinguished himself in combat over Iraq and Harm had felt like he'd had a piece of him surgically removed without anesthetic when it came to losing his wings at his FNAEB ten months after the ramp strike; and still did, when hearing the sound of an F-14 spooling up on the ramp or in full burner at the end of the runway or overhead.

He could still hear the words that the Captain chairing the evaluation board hearing spoke that rang the death knell on his flying career:

Lieutenant Harmon Rabb Jr., on or about the night of 18 December 1991, lost clear vision in his eyes, while under blue-water operations in the Mediterranean Sea; the outcome of which was a ramp strike which resulted in the loss of the aircraft as well as the loss of his Radar Intercept Officer. It is the board's finding that Lieutenant Rabb was negligent in his due diligence in maintaining his physical airworthiness. The findings indicate pilot error in the incident; therefore Lieutenant Rabb is hereby suspended from naval aviator status. Lieutenant Rabb will surrender his wings to his squadron commanding officer and will no longer be authorized to wear naval aviator wings until such time as it is deemed that he has re-qualified both physically and technically as a naval aviator. As of now, Lieutenant Rabb is hereby ordered to US Naval Bureau of Personnel to determine whether he will continue his naval service in another designator or if he will be out-processed from naval service. These are the findings of this Fleet Naval Aviator Evaluation Board convened 05 October 1992.

It was a verdict that still haunted him to this day; the words burned into his memory, even after getting his wings back from Tom Boone with approval being given from the JCS after landing the Tomcat back aboard the Seahawk two years later during a JAG investigation with Lieutenant JG Kate Pike in order to make sure that Tom and he didn't have to eject into the Aegean Sea. The complete and utter devastation that he had felt when he lost those gold wings that he had worked so hard for still reverberated like aftermath of the explosion of a nuclear warhead in his psyche.

Animal had a wound that would heal and provided there were no complications; he would be back to flight status as soon as he finished his refresher training in the F-14 at RAG and then onto a cruise as an XO. Harm, on the other hand, felt that he had a physical defect; one that yanked him out of the cockpit and there was no going back. Sure he still had the abilities to fly an F-14 Tomcat any chance that he could get; but he couldn't fly at night due to his night-blindness and that would end up killing his career as a blue water naval aviator. In that way, he envied Animal. At least he could go back to doing what it was that he loved doing. Harm was not so lucky. He often questioned what had happened, but Animal had told him that you can't dwell on the past; you have to just move forward.

Harm, you'll always remember what happened up there. You will always carry the guilt of an accident determined to be your fault; but the thing is that you can't let that guilt eat you up to the point where you lose focus. You always keep moving forward. That's life, shipmate. Question what you did wrong and what you can do to correct it if it's correctable; if it isn't, make peace with your decision and move on. But don't let the questions eat you up. You make your mistakes; you learn from them and you move forward. And you make damned sure that you don't repeat the same mistake twice.

He sighed as he looked over at Meg. "You're right, I miss flying too and I envy Animal being able to go back to do what he does best. But the main crux is that my diagnosis prevents me from getting into the cockpit at night and that's what aviators are expected to do; night patrols, night traps, night cat-shots…the whole nine-yards…and we don't have a bingo field in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. You're expected to trap aboard the carrier or you end up losing a thirty-six million dollar aircraft due to pilot incompetence. That's what Animal and I meant by the turn in the barrel stories. You end up making pass after pass until you make it in or you crash, one or the other. And if you still can't make it aboard after multiple passes, the CAG will just get tired of it after sending up two or three tankers…to pass gas, he'll just tell you to trap in the Davis, meaning he'll catch you in the barrier; you end up damaging the aircraft because there's no clean barrier trap and it's a one way ticket to the beach for you because you're no longer qualified as a deployable aviator which means your career as a naval aviator is over. It's dead serious business out there, Meg. There're no second chances."

Meg nodded; she knew that Harm knew his stuff, after all, he learned it from her now boyfriend. It was a physical defect that caused Harm to have his ramp strike; not any deficiency in Animal's instruction; evidently her boyfriend was extremely tough on his protégés for that very reason. It was something that couldn't be helped and unfortunately it cost the Navy a thirty-six million dollar airframe and the loss of a two million dollar cost in training a naval flight officer who had been killed in the crash. Hence the reason the Navy was very unforgiving of someone who lost an airframe due to personal failings and even more so if that accident had resulted in the loss of flight crew. Meg understood that all too well from the Navy's position on many of the NAVAIR accident cases that she and Harm had investigated.

Harm stated with a tone of wistful longing, "If I do go back, I have to be one hundred percent, meaning that I'd have to be able to fly at night, that my vision problems either clear up entirely with no reoccurrence or there's some way to get my vision corrected so that I have full night-vision again."

"Would you ever go back and get your vision checked out to see if it can be correctable?"

"They told me that it was a genetic problem and something that can't be fixed by surgery…when they examined my eyes prior to the FNAEB." His tone was hopeless. "I never wanted to get a second opinion…because then it would mean that…" He stopped talking for a long moment as he drew in a long shuddering breath. "It would mean that…I made a mistake…that I clung to the fact that it was a genetic problem and not the fact that I didn't press the matter when I got told that it was an infection that would clear up…back in 89. For me finding out that it wasn't night-blindness, the genetic cop-out to taking the blame for an accident that cost me my RIO when I struck the ramp; it would have been devastating knowing that I could have prevented the crash by just forcing the issue back in 89…"

"And now?" Meg asked; she understood that it was Harm's way of coping with the aftermath of the accident.

"I don't know if I've come to terms with Mace's death yet."

#jagfanfic #Harmon Rabb Jr.#Meg Austin #Meg and Tosh #non-sims #creative writing

Excerpt from one of my FF.net JAG Stories: “Settling In” Link if you want to read it to where it currently is.

Fanfic: Settling In Ch 1, JAG | FanFiction

This excerpt is from Chapter 4.

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Just as Animal and Meg got their groceries up into the apartment, her cell phone rang, "Austin!" she barked, a little out of breath and Animal could practically see her exasperation level rising as she found out who had just called. "Harm? What is it now? Oh, you just got done shopping? Well, good for you...Tosh and I just got back in and we need to put some perishables in the fridge…" Animal was already getting started on putting up the stuff. "Yeah, he's doing that right now. Anything other than that; that you're calling about? You just wanted to hear what your partner was doing, uh-huh?" Animal restrained a fit of laughter as he saw Meg roll her eyes in frustration. "Harm…I have a tub of ice cream that needs to go in the freezer…and I don't like melted ice cream…understand?" Meg looked up at the ceiling, "Yes…Black Cherry ice cream…yes my and Tosh's favorite…and if it melts, you're in a big deal of trouble. Mister!" Animal had already put the ice cream in the freezer but Harm didn't need to know that; the cheesecake had gone in there as well. Animal thought he heard faintly Harm's question of "Whatcha makin' for dinner?" Was Harm being purposefully irritating? The cell phone was fortunate that Meg restrained herself admirably from hurling it out the window. "South…Western…Style… Chili!" Meg enunciated each word through gritted teeth. Her partner was going to be annoying her for the entire week-end? It started to make her long for the weekdays of her leave when he'd be at work.

Meg winced as Harm said, "Oh yum…" Animal thought Harm remarkably held back from inviting himself over for dinner; considering that was Meg's and Animal's meal portions for the entire week. Luckily it had meat in it; if it was vegetarian chili; it would be gone after Harm got through with it.

"…and it's chock-full of hamburger…" Meg told Harm with no small sense of satisfaction, "A meat-eater's extravaganza…" Nope, Harm, as a vegetarian, definitely would not be inviting himself over to partake in the meal.

Animal mouthed over at Meg, "I think we need to find Harm a girlfriend…" as he put up the last of the perishables; one plat of ground beef in the freezer, the other in the fridge to keep cold until they cracked it open to make the chili, later on in the afternoon. Meg nodded back at him as she covered the phone's mouth-piece holes…

"Yes, Harm…I need to get busy with getting the stuff into the fridge. Yes, why thank you…I'll see you on Wednesday two weeks from now…" With an emphasis on the last five words: Wednesday two weeks from now… "Yes, Harm, unless it's an emergency; I will be unreachable until next…next WEDNESDAY…" When she signed off on the phone…and put it back in her purse, she went "AARRGGHHHH! I swear, he's like a two year old fishing for information…every two seconds… Whatchu doing? Whatchu makin'…"

"I think you restrained yourself admirably, sweetheart…" Animal grinned at her, "…from telling him to go play in traffic."