Family Tree
Lieutenant Reginald Barkley is walking briskly down the hall of the U.S.S. Enterprise 1701-D. He has just finished his shift, and has booked the holodeck for a couple of hours so he can get in some fencing practice. Besides, it was nearly supper time and he was quite hungry. Lieutenant LaForge seemed to had been working him extra hard in engineering today. Reg had thought about asking Geordie about it, but the chief engineer seemed to be in an unusually surly mood today. Despite their friendship, Barkley decided the best course of action was to keep his head down and get through his shift as best he could. He'd ask the lieutenant about it another time, when he seems more sociable.
Reg arrives at the door to his quarters. In his haste, he nearly bloodies his nose as the doors don't automatically open for him as is usual. He looks at the doors with a confused expression on his face.
"Computer," says the lieutenant, "Why won't these doors open?"
"The doors have been locked," replies the computer.
"On who's authority?" asks Reg.
"Lieutenant Reginald Barkley."
"What?" Now Reg is really confused. "Unlock my door now. Authorization, Barkley, alpha, five, seven, four, delta."
"Authorization granted," says the computer, "You may enter when ready."
"I'm gonna have to give this thing a diagnostic," mumbles Barkley as he enters his quarters.
Once inside, he finds the place completely dark.
"Now what?" he says. "Computer! Lights!"
The lights come on and all of his friends jump up out of hiding.
"SURPRISE!" they all yell in unison.
Barkley nearly falls over backwards in shock. His whole apartment had been decorated for a party. And everyone was there. Geordie, Data, Counselor Troi, Doctor Crusher, Commander Riker. Even Lieutenant Worf and Captain Picard had shown up.
"My God," says Reg, still recovering from the shock, "What . . . what . . . ."
"It's your three year anniversary being on the Enterprise," says Geordie as he walks up to him and shakes his hand, "I just thought you deserved a little reward for all the hard work you've done in engineering."
"Thank . . . um . . . thank you."
"Were you sufficiently deceived?" asks Data as he walks up and shakes Barkley's hand.
"That would be an understatement," says Barkley with a grin.
"Sorry I was so hard on you down in engineering today, Reg," says Geordie as he pats his friend on the shoulder, "I needed to keep you out of your quarters while Beverly and Deanna set up the decorations."
"I . . . I can't believe you did all this for me," says Barkley, "Nobody's ever thrown me a surprise party before. Not even when I was a kid."
"Congratulations Mr. Barkley," says Captain Picard as he walks over to the lieutenant and shakes his hand, "Three years on the Enterprise, and she's all the better for your presence."
"Thank you, Captain," replies Barkley, "If . . . if you don't mind me saying so, Sir. I . . . um . . . I'm a little . . . surprised . . . to see you at this party. I thought you might be . . . um . . . on the bridge?"
"You'll find, Mr. Barkley, that one of the advantages to being captain, is being able to assign bridge duty to someone else so that you can take the evening off."
"Yes, sir." replies Reg.
"Come on, Reg," says Geordie, "This party is for you. Mingle. Enjoy yourself."
Reg goes over to the buffet table that the counselor and the doctor had set up, and helps himself to a few finger sandwiches and a glass of fruit punch. He does as Geordie had suggested, and mingled with the guests. Everyone gives him a pat on the back or shakes his hand, and offers him congratulations on his three year anniversary. Normally, Barkley is incredibly nervous in social situations such as these. But tonight, somehow, the fact that these people thought enough of him to throw him a surprise anniversary party, made him feel much more at ease. He walks over to Commander Riker and Counselor Troi, who are standing off to the side admiring an old black and white photograph Barkley has framed and hanging on his wall.
"Commander. Counselor," he says, "I just want to thank you again for all of this. This . . . it's amazing."
"It was our pleasure," says Deanna.
"Besides," says Riker with a mischievous grin, "Deanna did all the hard work. All I did was show up."
The commander grimaces as Deanna elbows him in the ribs. Reg politely pretends not to notice.
"Still," he replies, "it's greatly appreciated all the same."
The three of them stand about in awkward silence for a moment. While socializing with friends put Barkley more at ease, he was still terrible at engaging in small talk. Knowing how difficult socializing is for Barkley, Deanna decides to get him talking.
"Will and I were admiring this photograph you have on your wall," she says, "Who are these people?"
Barkley looks at the photo Deanna is referring to. In it are four men, all dressed in twentieth century military uniforms and carrying ancient firearms. Barkley smiles, as he now has a topic of conversation he can focus on, and one he can speak on with confidence. Deanna too, smiles, as she figured talking about the photo might put Reg at ease.
"That," says Barkley, pointing at the soldier on the far right of the photograph, "is my great, great, great, and I think a few more greats, grandfather on my mother's side. Captain H.M. Murdock."
"What does the H.M. Stand for?" asks Commander Riker.
"Officially," says Barkley, "it stands for Howard Matthew. But everyone he served with used to say it stood for 'Howling Mad'."
"Why 'Howling Mad'?" asks Deanna.
"Well, while he was serving in the army, he was a helicopter pilot."
"Helicopter?" asks Riker.
"A short range air vehicle capable of hovering, used throughout the late twentieth century," explains Data as he walks over to take part in the conversation, "Not unlike our shuttle crafts."
"Exactly," says Barkley. "During the Vietnam War, Great Great Grandpa Murdock used to fly the most dangerous missions. Any mission that required a chopper pilot, which is what they called helicopter pilots in those days, that were so dangerous you'd have to be crazy to take them, those were the missions Great Great Grandpa Murdock would fly. And more often then not, he'd come back without a scratch."
"How did he manage that?" asks Data.
"That's the other reason they called him 'Howling Mad'." replies Barkley., "He would perform stunts while piloting a chopper that most pilots wouldn't even dream of, and do the successfully too."
"The physical resemblance between you and your ancestor is amazing," remarks Deanna, "You're the spitting image of him."
"Yes," replies Barkley, "It's a Murdock family trait. Practically all the men on my mother's side of the family tend to look just like Great Great Grandpa Murdock. Makes things rather confusing at family reunions, that's for certain."
"Who are these other men in the picture?" asks Riker, both to help Deanna pull Reg out of his shell and because he was genuinely curious.
"Those were the men in Great Great Grandpa Murdock's unit," Reg explains, "They were an elite special forces commando unit. They were called the Alpha Team, or 'A-Team' for short. The gentleman in the middle with the white hair and smoking a cigar, was their commanding officer. His name was Lieutenant Colonel John Smith, although practically everyone called him Hannibal."
"Why Hannibal?" asks Data.
"Because, he was probably the greatest military strategist ever produced in the twentieth century.," explains Barkley, "If there was ever a mission that they said couldn't be done, Hannibal would volunteer. That's why Great Great Grandpa Murdock flew so many dangerous missions. Hannibal hand picked my ancestor to be the team's chopper pilot."
"Really?" asks Deanna.
"Oh yes," replies Barkley, actually getting comfortable with the role of story teller, "No matter the situation, Hannibal would come up with a plan to overcome it. You would have probably like him Commander."
"How so?" asks Riker.
"You an he shared the same love of unorthodox strategies," says Barkley, "There was nothing the Colonel loved more, than when a plan came together. And no one was more dangerous than the Colonel when he was on 'The Jazz'."
"I don't understand," says Data, "How does Hannibal's playing music make him more dangerous?"
"'The Jazz' isn't referring to music," explains Barkley, "It's referring to the thrill of victory. Especially when it's against overwhelming odds."
"You mean an adrenaline rush?" asks Deanna.
"I suppose that's the best way to describe it," agrees Barkley, "My grandma never really explained what it meant. She just always said 'Hannibal was hooked on The Jazz'."
By this point, many of the other guests had gathered around the picture to hear about Barkley's ancestor. Lieutenant Worf points to a large man in the photo who is standing next to Captain Murdock.
"That dark skinned fellow has the look of a warrior," he says. Klingons take great pride in their family's histories, and all this talk of Lieutenant Barkley's ancestor made this gathering feel just a little more Klingon to him.
"Ah, you're very observant Lieutenant," says Reg, "That was Great Great Grandpa Murdock's best friend. Sergeant Bosco Allen Baracus. Everyone called him B.A. For short."
"For Bosco Allen, obviously," says Captain Picard as he takes a sip of Earl Grey tea.
"Officially, yes," says Barkley, "But the running joke in his outfit was that it stood for 'Bad Attitude'."
"Why 'Bad Attitude'?" asks Worf.
"Because he had a bad habit of punching out his superior officers when he disagreed with them. That's why he never got promoted past sergeant."
"If he were a Klingon soldier," says Worf, "that would have earned him a promotion."
"Unfortunately for him, he was not born a Klingon," agrees Barkley, "But he certainly had the spirit of a Klingon. According to family legend, B.A. Had never been bested in unarmed combat. Ever."
"A worthy adversary," says Worf, "It would have been an honor to have faced such a man in battle."
"He wasn't just a great fighter either," says Barkley, "According to family legend, he was a mechanical genius. If given a set of tools and enough time, he could get the engine of just about any vehicle purring like a kitten."
"And what about this handsome figure on the end here?" asks Doctor Crusher.
"Ah!" says Barkley, "That was another of Great Great Grandpa Murdock's dearest friends. His name was Lieutenant Templeton Peck. He was supposedly a world class scrounger. It was said he could find anything, anywhere."
"He certainly was a good looking man," says Beverly.
"That's why they called him 'Face Man',"explains Barkley, "Or just 'Face' for short."
"Did everyone have nicknames back then?" asks Data.
"I think it was a military tradition at the time," says Barkley, "You would get a nickname that best fits your personality."
"Yeah, they say that Face Man could talk a man out of his coat in the dead of winter, and a woman out of all of her clothes at any time."
"Quite the ladies man, eh?" says Riker.
"Ladies man, confidence man, and all around good guy," agrees Barkley, "At least, that's what my mother used to tell me when I was growing up."
"So what happened to them," asks Geordie, "Did they make it through the was alright?"
"Well, yes and no." says Barkley.
"How do you mean?" asks Captain Picard.
"During the final weeks of The United States' involvement in the Vietnam War, The A-Team were sent on a mission. This mission was so top secret, that the only people who knew about it were the team themselves and the general who gave them their orders. If the Americans couldn't win the was soon, they were going to have to pull out. The North Vietnamese Army were buying their weapons and ammunition from the Chinese. The A-Team's mission was to rob the Bank Of Hanoi, thus taking away the enemy's ability to replenish their supplies. The hope was that once their ammunition ran out, and with no funds to buy more, the Americans would be able to waltz right through and pulverize the enemy. Well, Hannibal accepted the mission, and my ancestor flew them out to Hanoi and then picked them up at the rendezvous point. But when they got back to headquarters in Saigon, they found that the base had been hit by a mortar attack. And what's worse, one of the mortar shells had hit the general's office, killing him and destroying all of his private files. There was no record of The A-Team being sent on any mission to Hanoi."
"So what happened to them?" asks Riker.
"They were arrested for grand larceny," explains Barkley, "But before they could be court martialed, they broke out of a maximum security stockade and went into hiding somewhere in southern California. Then they began hiring themselves out as mercenaries to people in need. When people had a problem and the police were powerless to help, or if the police actually were the problem, they could hire The A-Team. They were never easy to find, and they didn't come cheap. But sometimes, if you were lucky, they would do a job for cost, or even free."
"Whatever happened to this, 'A-Team'?" asks Worf, "Did they ever clear their names?"
"Not exactly," replies Lieutenant Barkley, "After about fourteen years on the run, they were finally caught and court martialed for their crimes. They added a charge of murder to their list of crimes, for an autopsy later revealed that the general that had ordered them to rob the Bank Of Hanoi was shot dead before the mortar shell ever hit his office. They were convicted, and sentenced to death by firing squad."
"That is an unhonourable way to die," says Worf.
"Ah, but they didn't die," says Barkley.
"What do you mean?" asks Riker.
"The Central Intelligence Agency of America faked their deaths," Barkley explains, "Then put them to work doing black ops missions for them, missions that can't have any official links to the CIA or to the US government."
"Why would your ancestor or any of his friends agree to this?"
"The man who arranged to fake their deaths and have them work for the CIA, promised them full presidential pardons if they complied," says Reg.
"Did they ever get their pardons?" asks Data.
"No one knows for sure," admits Reg, "If they did, they may have changed their names and assumed new identities, being officially dead and everything."
"You sure do have a colourful family history, Mr Barkley," says Captain Picard.
"Yes," agrees Lieutenant Worf, "I would like to hear more about your ancestor. Perhaps some stories about his time spent as a mercenary."
"To tell you the truth, Mr. Worf," says Barkley, "Some of those stories might make for an interesting series of holonovels. Perhaps you and I could relive some of those adventures together. You, know, you would make an excellent B.A. Baracus."
"He certainly has the attitude for the role," says Commander Riker with a grin.
Lieutenant Worf looks at the commander and growls, which illicits a round of laughter from everybody at the party. They all go back to mingling around the party. Just before going to join them, Lieutenant Barkley turns towards the photograph of his ancestor. He raises his glass to the photo, then makes a motion as though he's clinking an invisible glass. He drinks his fruit punch and then walks over to join his friends. If the image of Captain "Howling Mad" Murdock could nod his head in approval, he would have.
THE END