"So without further ado, I would like to call my first witness. Sergeant Joe Wilson."

Wilson stepped up to the bench, took his oath, and sat down.

"Now, Sergeant Wilson, could you please inform the court of your position in Hogan's Heroes."

"I believe I was the POW's medic. At least I think I was. I only showed up in one episode, but I'm all over the net, Commander."

"Would you say that you were kept very busy in this fan fiction genre, Sergeant?"

"Constantly. I had to put everyone back together. It was awful."

"Can you please explain what you mean by awful?"

"Well, I'm just a medic. Sometimes things happened that I couldn't handle. I was constantly running low on supplies. Sometimes we had no morphine or penicillin. Other times, we seemed to have an infinite supply of morphine and penicillin. Hard to keep track. But the things I witnessed…" Wilson started to tear up. He stopped to wipe his eyes.

"Sergeant, I know this is hard, but I understand that you kept careful records of these terrible things that happened."

"Yes, I did. These things had consequences. I was usually left to pick up the pieces."

"Sergeant, can you read the list you've brought with you?"

"Okay, here it goes." He paused, cleared his throat and began to read. "In the time I've spent in Stalag 13 on fan fiction, the following horrible things have happened to the men under my care. Let's see. Newkirk was tortured and I had to treat the poor guy without an anesthetic, then he got amnesia. Carter was almost tortured to death and ended up in a coma. Carter was injured and his life is still hanging in the balance because the author is MIA. Klink's been seriously injured several times. Schultz was shot."

A cry of, "Oh, no, not Schultz!" went up in the courtroom.

"Quiet!" said Harry. "Please continue, Sergeant."

Wilson looked at his list. "Where was I? Oh, yes. The rest of this list may be a little hard to handle."

"And why is that, Sergeant?" Riker gently asked.

"Well, it concerns Colonel Hogan, and it's pretty gruesome."

"That's why we're here, Sergeant. Go ahead."

"Okay," Wilson said. "Here it goes. So far, Colonel Hogan has been pummeled, beaten, tortured in numerous ways I won't even mention, hung by his wrist or thumbs, poisoned by his enemies, poisoned by his own people, made sick by his enemies, deliberately made sick by his own people, voluntarily made himself sick, had a bomb placed under a cast on his wrist, given hypothermia and frostbite, brainwashed, made to think he killed his own men, overdosed on chloroform, given a morphine overdose on purpose, operated on with anesthetic, operated on without anesthetic, injured in an explosion he and his men set, almost lost his eye, suffered a brain injury, shot numerous times, fallen down a ravine, buried alive, been in a coma, had medical experiments thrust upon him by some really nasty people, caught in a cave-in, and given a really, really bad cold. I think I may have missed some. I haven't read them all, you know. Oh, and by now I wouldn't be surprised if the Colonel is addicted to morphine; he's been practically living on it." Riker and the rest of the courtroom looked at Wilson in astonishment.

The prosecutor managed to contain his amazement and horror and continued his questioning.

"He's been through all that? And you had to treat him?"

"Yes, sir. I treated him most of the time, which wasn't easy. He's not very cooperative with medical personnel; when he's conscious, that is. Sometimes German doctors were brought in, which was a good thing, too. Like I said, a lot of the injuries were too severe for me to handle."

"So, Sergeant Wilson, would you call these actions on the part of the writers, 'character abuse'?"

"I don't know what I would call it, Commander. But I definitely think it's weird."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Riker turned to Perry Mason. "Your witness."

"Sergeant Wilson. First let me congratulate you on your fine medical work. All of these characters are still alive and kicking, are they not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then. You claim that you only had a small part in just one televised episode? Is that correct?"

Wilson answered in the affirmative.

"And I believe in that particular episode, your patient died?"

"Yes, sir, he was a courier. He took flak when he parachuted."

"Tsk, tsk. That is a shame. Yet, you appear in many of these fan fiction stories. How many? Hundreds, maybe?"

"Um, I've never counted."

"But you would admit, quite a few."

"Yes."

"And you seem to have had quite a starring role in some of these stories, haven't you?"

Wilson began to puff up in his own importance. "Well, you can say that. I have put in a lot of work."

"So would you say that these stories, along with all of their angst, have actually benefited your career?"

Riker stood up. "Objection. Conjecture."

"Sustained."

Mason was not perturbed. "No further questions, your honor."

Harry addressed Riker. "You may call your next witness."

"I call Sergeant James Kinchloe."

The doors to the back of the courtroom opened and in walked the distinguished Sergeant. All eyes followed him as he took his seat.

"Sergeant Kinchloe. Hogan's right hand man, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

I understand that if something happened to Colonel Hogan, you were then put in command."

"Yes, sir, it did happen that way."

"So, going back to the testimony we've heard, you must have been in command numerous times."

"Yes, sir."

"And how did you feel, Sergeant?"

"Dreadful. It's not what I had in mind when I joined. I mean, the other guys were pretty good about it, but let me tell you, it was quite a burden; making those decisions, planning rescues. And then all of the times we had to take care of the Colonel, and the other guys, too, of course. But most of the time, it was Colonel Hogan."

"Can you help us to understand what you and the other men in your unit had to go through?"

"Yes. You don't know what it's like watching your commanding officer almost die, over and over and over again. And over again. Dealing with the nightmares, the morphine injections, making up stories, over and over and over again; I mean, the angst!" Kinch began to choke up.

"So, here we have characters suffering terrible injuries, but those around to pick up the pieces also suffer as well. Is that fair to say, Sergeant?"

"Yes, I would say that."

"Objection!" This time it was Mason's turn. "The witness is not a psychiatrist."

"Overruled," replied Harry. "Taking care of a friend or loved one can take a toll on a person."

"So true, sir, so true." Bull was wiping the tears from his eyes.

Riker gave Mason a look of triumph. "Your witness, counselor."

Mason let out a frustrated sigh. "I have no questions for this witness, but I request permission to recall the witness if necessary."

"Granted," Harry said as he quickly moved to hide the silly putty that he was mauling.

************

"My next witness," Riker paused for effect. "Oh you'll like this one." He flashed a smile at the spectators. "I call Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce."

Pierce, known to millions as Hawkeye, sauntered into the courtroom. He was handsomely decked out in his dress uniform. Pierce casually took the stand and gazed at the spectators with a devil may care look that left some of the females in the audience a little flushed.

"I object." All heads turned toward Perry Mason.

"To what?" said Harry, "He hasn't even started yet."

"This witness is from another war," said Mason. "He shouldn't be here."

"Counselor?" Harry looked down at Riker.

"He is considered an expert witness, your honor; a well-respected trauma surgeon who can give his professional opinion regarding the Colonel's injuries. Plus, he's had experience with the Colonel."

"Why can't we have doctors here from the correct war? The ones who treated the Colonel?"

"Mr. Mason. We can't have the doctors come over from HH fan fiction for a very simple reason. They are considered OCs; or, for you amateurs, made up characters. And we can't very well have them testify in this hearing without their creators' permission, can we?" Riker then looked at the judge, who was now attempting to untangle a slinky.

"Good point, Commander." Harry was actually paying attention. He was good at multi-tasking. "We all frown on copyright infractions, don't we? Objection overruled."

Riker began his questioning. "Captain Pierce, in your eleven years as a MASH surgeon…wait did I see eleven years? Whoa! Sorry. In your time as chief surgeon of the 4077th, you probably saw your share of trauma and torture and angst. Am I correct?"

"You wouldn't believe the things I've seen!" said Pierce. "War does terrible, horrible things to the human body. We did our best to patch those boys up, but sometimes our best just wasn't enough." Pierce was being unusually serious.

This is good, thought Riker. He was familiar with the famous surgeon's other side.

"You've had a chance to look over the history of Colonel Hogan's injuries; all these terrible things done to that poor man and his colleagues in the name of good writing, haven't you?"

"Yes," replied Pierce, "and let me say that the man should be dead. There's no way anyone, even a fictional character, could survive all of that. And if he's not dead, and I'm assuming he isn't; otherwise you would have said so, he would definitely suffer from lifelong problems."

"Physical or psychiatric, Captain?"

"Both," said Pierce. "If I was his doctor, I would definitely recommend psychiatric treatment. You can't go through all of that and not have mental problems."

"We'll get into the psychiatric aspects of this later, Captain, but I am interested in finding out about your brief past experience with Colonel Hogan. I understand he paid a visit to the future and ended up in your MASH unit?"

Pierce chuckled at the memory, and then quickly got serious. "Yes, that's right. He did show up there with his aide, Sergeant Kinchloe. Except the Sergeant was a Colonel, and the Colonel was a General. They came to visit a wounded friend."

"And how was his demeanor?"

"The General was okay; for a General, that is. He was real sharp: seemed to have great sense of humor. I think he hated Burns on sight." The courtroom laughed. "Yeah, we even had a drink together, but then something went wrong. He had a breakdown."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"Well, I'm a little embarrassed, but I think Trap and I kind of acted a little juvenile, and that could have helped to instigate the problem. But, it was actually hallucinations. The General went wacko. Kept claiming he was seeing people from the past; from his POW camp in our camp."

"Was that possible, Captain?"

"No, Commander."

Riker continued. "So tell me, Captain, what happened to the General?"

"Well, we actually ended up restraining him for his own good until a psychiatrist could be called in, but somehow, they all got away. I mean; the General, Colonel Kinchloe, and even the patient they came to see vamoosed."

"Captain, do you think perhaps his odd behavior may have something to do with all of the trauma this poor man has suffered?"

Pierce paused. "I would rather you ask a psychiatrist that, Commander. That's my professional opinion."

"Thank you, Captain." Riker turned to Mason. "Your witness."

"Captain Pierce." Perry Mason approached the witness stand. "First, let me ask you if you ever had a chance to physically examine the alleged victim in this case."

"Um, no, but I did get a blow-by-blow description."

"So, without a physical examination, how could you make an assumption regarding the Colonel's injuries?"

Pierce responded. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to read those stories and form an educated guess."

Harry whispered to Bull, "How did he know how to read those things? He's from the '50's. I didn't even know there was an internet and I'm three decades younger!"

"You're no stranger to angst, are you, Captain?" Mason decided to change his tactic.

Pierce squirmed in his chair.

"Captain, can you answer the question?"

"Well, no. I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'm sorry, doctor, but since this is a court, albeit one in a fantasy, you do need to answer the question. Now, I've done a bit of research here and discovered that not only did you suffer terribly during the eleven year run of MASH on television, but you've also had difficulties on your own fan fiction site. Let's see," Mason drew out a list. "You've had a concussion, temporary blindness, nightmares, sleep deprivation, a complete and utter nervous breakdown, a skin rash, alcohol addiction, deaths of friends, claustrophobia, an overabundance of liver and fish, rib deprivation, creamed corn, a minor wound in the leg and arm, crossword problems, sniper attacks, a friend hurt, Frank Burns and Charles Winchester, and that's just from the show. Shall I continue?"

"No, you can stop now," said Pierce.

"And yet here you are! Healthy, sane, alive and kicking." Mason looked triumphant. "And in addition, I would like to point out to the court that nothing bad ever happened to anyone of the main characters in Hogan's Heroes in the six seasons they were on television. Nothing. No further questions."

"Let's break for the day. Come back in the a.m." Everyone agreed with the judge and left the courtroom. Back in his chambers, Harry conferred with Bull. "I think I need to get a hold of a newer computer and check out this fan fiction site."

Bull agreed. "Good idea, sir."

"Go requisition one from somewhere, grab a fourteen-year-old and let's get that puppy set up."

"Right away, sir." Bull left Harry alone with a deck of cards and returned a short while later with a laptop and a kid he pulled off of the street.

"Hey," said Harry.

"Hey," said the kid.

"Can you hook this up and show me how to find this?"

"No problem," said the kid. "I'll do it for twenty bucks."

"Deal," Harry said. A short while later, Harry was engrossed in tales he thought were unimaginable.