The NCIS universe has always thrived on its characters — their scars, their secrets, and their unshakable loyalty to a moral code written in the ink of experience and loss. But for the first time in over two decades, CBS is daring to peel back the curtain and ask: Who were these people before the legend began?
Enter NCIS: Origins — a bold, emotionally charged prequel that rewinds to the early 1990s, long before Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Mark Harmon) became the stoic commander of the Major Case Response Team. This new series trades polished lab coats and high-tech crime scenes for grit, grief, and the raw foundation of what would become the world’s most-watched procedural.
Set at the Naval Investigative Service (NIS) field office at Camp Pendleton, the show dives into the unformed years of characters fans thought they already knew — revealing not the rule-makers, but the rule-breakers they once were.
And in doing so, Origins transforms NCIS mythology from a tale of procedure into a story of people — fallible, fragile, and fascinatingly human.
The Soul of the Franchise: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Then and Now
Mark Harmon’s Gibbs is a television titan — a man of quiet command whose loyalty runs deeper than blood, whose grief is his compass, and whose moral code is engraved into his being. Every head slap, every unspoken glance, every Rule No. 6: Never apologize — it’s a sign of weakness stems from decades of personal tragedy and hardened discipline.
But Austin Stowell’s Gibbs is a revelation.
Here, he’s a Marine turned rookie agent, freshly scarred by the murder of his wife and daughter. His eyes still carry the tremor of pain. He drinks more. He questions authority. He fights to contain his rage. He’s a man trying to make sense of loss by imposing order on chaos — the very genesis of his “rules.”
The brilliance of Origins lies in its refusal to romanticize him. This isn’t the Gibbs who leads with a silent nod — this is a Gibbs who bleeds, who yells, who learns. And with Mark Harmon narrating each episode, every mistake Stowell’s Gibbs makes becomes a haunting echo from the future — a reminder that pain, not perfection, forged the man we came to revere.
“Before he was the legend,” the trailer teases, “he was just a Marine with nothing left to lose.”
That’s the essence of Origins: not myth-making, but human-making.
The Mentor Reborn: Mike Franks and the Man Who Built Gibbs
When NCIS fans first met Mike Franks (Muse Watson), he was the gravel-voiced ghost from Gibbs’ past — a retired agent, half mentor, half conscience. He’d appear in smoky rooms or dreamlike visions, his words landing like hammer blows of wisdom.
But Origins resurrects Franks not as a relic, but as a force of nature.
Kyle Schmid’s version is a swaggering, mustached hurricane — a field leader at the height of his powers. He doesn’t hand down wisdom from a porch; he lives it in the line of fire. He’s the man who first teaches Gibbs to follow his gut, to bend the rules when justice demands it.
Their dynamic hums with friction — a young, volatile Gibbs challenging the very man he’ll later revere. The result is magnetic: two alphas clashing and connecting in equal measure.
In one early episode, Franks reportedly snaps, “You don’t make rules, Gibbs. You survive long enough, and the rules make you.”
It’s a line that chills longtime fans — because we know he’s wrong, and we know Gibbs will prove it.
The Heart of the Lab: Ducky Mallard, Before the Bow Tie
Few NCIS characters are more beloved than Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard, the eccentric medical examiner whose warmth and wit made autopsies feel like poetry. The late David McCallum brought him to life as the team’s moral philosopher — a man who spoke to the dead to better understand the living.
In Origins, Adam Campbell steps back into Ducky’s pristine wingtips — reprising the younger version he portrayed in flashbacks. Here, he’s not the unflappable doctor yet. He’s nervous, brilliant, and endearingly awkward — a liaison from NIS headquarters trying to prove himself among hardened agents.
It’s more than nostalgia; it’s a love letter.
Every quirk, every monologue, every gentle hum over a cadaver now feels earned. We see how he developed his habit of “talking to the bodies,” how his empathy disarmed even the toughest Marines, and how his friendship with Gibbs was born in shared loneliness.
In one of the show’s most touching tributes, Harmon’s narration describes young Ducky as “the man who taught me that death doesn’t end the story — it begins the truth.”
That line alone cements Origins as both prequel and elegy — honoring McCallum while passing the torch.
Fathers, Friends, and Future Foes
Beyond the core trio, Origins weaves in characters who deepen the franchise’s tapestry:
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Jackson Gibbs (Robert Taylor): Long before Ralph Waite’s tender portrayal, we meet a younger, grief-stricken father trying to pull his son back from self-destruction. The tension between them is raw, unfiltered, and heartbreakingly human.
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Vera Strickland (Diany Rodriguez): Once a one-episode cameo in NCIS, now a central figure. She’s the no-nonsense field agent whose bond with Franks and Gibbs becomes the backbone of Camp Pendleton’s team.
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Tobias Fornell (Lucas Dixon): Fans know him as Gibbs’ FBI frenemy. In Origins, he’s a young, ambitious agent whose competitive fire with Gibbs sparks the beginning of their decades-long, rule-bending alliance.
Each appearance serves not as fan service, but as connective tissue — proof that the NCIS universe was always a web of intertwined destinies, waiting to be mapped.
The Power of Remembering Where Legends Come From
In an era when prequels often chase nostalgia, NCIS: Origins aims higher. It doesn’t just replay history — it reframes it. By showing us Gibbs before the walls went up, Franks before the cynicism set in, and Ducky before the eccentric armor, it reminds us that even legends start as broken people trying to do good.
Every scar we saw in NCIS — every rule, every head slap, every moment of silence — is now getting its origin story.
And perhaps most strikingly, with Mark Harmon’s voice guiding us through time, Origins feels less like a spinoff and more like a confession. It’s the story of how pain becomes purpose — how tragedy becomes duty — and how one man’s quest for justice built an empire that still stands 20 years later.
In the end, “Origins” isn’t about where NCIS began. It’s about why it endured.
Because before there were agents, there were people. Before there were rules, there were reasons.
And before there was Gibbs — there was a man named Jethro, still learning how to forgive the world that took everything from him.
