What Really Happened to Trip Tucker

It took a few weeks for the temple to be repaired. Until the new living spaces were prepared, including the Mother Superior’s renovated apartments, T’Nedara stayed with T’Pol in Shi’Kahr.  

Other than preparing for the site’s reconsecration, which included composing new rituals, restocking the temple supplies and reorganizing the altered floor plan, she spent most of her time learning English and trading stories of Selek with T’Pol.

“Your interest in Terran vernacular is timely,” the sub-Commander remarked. “Were you inspired by Selek?”

“I was,” She replied. “He showed me a mover…”

“I believe it’s called a movie.”

“Oh. Yes, and it was in English. With Vulcan subtitles for my benefit, naturally. It was interesting to me how the setting was a character of its own. New York City is an important place in Terran history, isn’t it?”

“It is immensely important. The greatest human city of the 20th century. What was the movie called?”

“This eludes me for the moment,” T’Nedara furrowed her brow as she spoke. “Something onomatopoeic and only tangentially related to the subject matter. I asked for a story about human mythology and was surprised it was set in a modern era.”

“Human are as creative as they are superstitious.” T’Pol even smiled a bit. “I always enjoyed horror movies.”

“I’m not sure about the whole idea of making a person scared on purpose,” T’Nedara tried not to sound too critical. “I was surprised to find out such a genre existed.”

“The human mind likes opposites, the same way that Vulcans do. They like their drama and horror as much as their romance and comedy. But this was not horror, obviously.”

“Oh, no, it was a romance. A sea creature fell in love with a human. It was also funny, though. I must admit, a few lines brought my laughter to the surface.”

“I think I know the one you mean. It’s a retelling of an old story, ‘The Little Mermaid’ but with a happier ending.”

“It’s still a bittersweet one. I must extend some empathy to the brother of the protagonist. He would have been incarcerated for the rest of his life.”

The conversation moved to the concept of literary adaptation, another persistent human obsession.

“I saw a book in Selek’s room,” T’Nedara said, “with a notorious history in this regard. I’ve seen excerpts in Vulcan, but I would very much like to read the original.”

“A Terran vision of a desert planet, created in the years before first contact, is indeed fascinating.” T’Pol replied. “There was a time when humans had reason to believe they were alone in the universe and did not yet understand warp technology.”

“The chant they use, the mantra against fear – it’s something Surak would have composed and taught. I can’t ignore such an obvious parallel.” T’Nedara couldn’t hide her interest in the book. “And the spice! Of course, our redspice doesn’t come from giant worms and isn’t a hallucinogen. But I can see the ancient Vulcan ways, in the way they preserved water and fought with ruthless, amoral energy.”

“Humans and Vulcans might not be so different when it comes to their tumultuous history.” T’Pol paused, and seemed to compose herself before continuing. “The discovery of the warp drive and First Contact brought them out of a difficult time. But they entered another one just as quickly.

“We protected them for as long as we could. They were adventurous and brave, but foolish. I watched the crew of the Enterprise learn the reality of life in space. I watched their optimism fade, sometimes even twist and change into bitterness.”

“Is that what happened to Trip?” T’Nedara asked.

T’Pol was surprised by the directness of the question. Other Vulcans were often reluctant to ask about her human crewmates, especially Trip.       

“The official records claim he died on the Enterprise,” T’Pol began, “but you, of all people, deserve to know the truth.”

That was how T’Nedara became the first person to hear the whole story of what really happened to Charles Tucker III, the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise.

“According to all of the official accounts, Charles Tucker the III died in an accident on the Enterprise in the year 2161. There were two other important events that happened in the same year; the formation of the United Federation of Planets and the formation of an organization called Section 31 in response to that.

“Section 31” gets its name from Article 14, Section 31 if the Starfleet Charter. It states that any extraordinary measures – even those that include murder, theft, and sabotage – could be undertaken if the Federation or United Earth was under an existential threat.

When Trip first left Earth to explore space, he was hopeful, optimistic, and dedicated to his friend Jonathan Archer and his dream. Perhaps he was too optimistic. Maybe we can credit him for giving everyone in the galaxy the impression that humans were friendly, enthusiastic, and painfully naive.

The Xindi attack changed him. His sister, Elizabeth, was one of millions that were killed.  The human capacity for joy has its mirror image in their rage. Tripp’s anger went beyond a simple longing for revenge, and his energy and knowledge turned away from flirting, exploring, and making friends.

The accident did happen, and the circumstances that were reported regarding the Andorian General Shran and Captain Archer are factual. However, Trip didn’t die as a result. His body disappeared from the hospital and the morgue. When they gave me his personal effects, I asked who had identified him, and I was told his parents had claimed his body based on biometric information sent from Earth.

I was charged with delivering his belongings to his family. When I met them, they said that they had been told his body had been damaged by radiation, and could not be safely returned. He had been safely disposed of in space after being identified by Jonathan Archer. I kept my silence about the discrepancies in each story, including the fact that Trip’s burns, although serious, were not due to radiation.

I returned to Vulcan. After a few months of silence, mysterious notes started to appear in my personal logs. Only a masterful engineer and very clever programmer could get through those Vulcan security protocols. I traded a few notes with an anonymous user who eventually revealed himself as Trip, not by using his name, but with references to deeply personal events shared by only the two of us.

I still didn’t believe it was him until he actually appeared in my house. Literally, using a transporter, technology that’s barely functional outside of the Vulcan High Command.

You may have guessed that I was pleased to see him, and wasn’t bothered with a lot of questions at first. He still retains the scars of the accident, and refused to tell me everything at the time, but confirmed that his death was a fabricated event to extract him from the Enterprise. His determination to seek out and destroy anything even remotely connected with the Xindi put him on the radar as a valuable ally for those who would pursue the path of the extremist.

It’s not clear when it started, or if he was one of the founding members or just a recruit, but he didn’t call it Section 31 at the time. Not everyone liked the idea of a galactic federation based on universal justice. It’s logical to include espionage as part of any government system, but it’s crucial to keep it clandestine, and Tripp was risking his secrets to come out of hiding to be with me.

The pregnancy was a surprise, as you may have guessed. Elizabeth, Selek’s older sister, was created through artificial means and it was thought that a Terran-Vulcan hybrid was an impossibility. We considered termination, not only for out fear of exposing Tripp but due to the possibility of physical damage to myself. However, my condition advanced normally, following the Vulcan gestation period, and Koss agreed to step in and fill the role of ‘father’ on all of the relevant government forms.

Trip Tucker remains a member of the secretive organization that is now known throughout the universe as Section 31, a rogue splinter group associated with terrorism, espionage, and extortion. Tripp hasn’t always approved of their methods, which have only become more extreme, and these days he is more a hostage than an equal member. They need his engineering knowledge, and they threaten him, and his loved ones, to get it.

I was never worried about dealing with them. You have seen me handle a plasma rifle. But I did have some maternal concern for my son, who would be in danger if his true ancestry were discovered, and by keeping this secret I have kept him safe from his father’s colleagues.”

“The secret may have been discovered by the cult,” T’Nedara said. “They have my biometrics.”

“But not the skill to read them, not the finer details. We will find and destroy any information they have. While you rebuild and study, I will conduct a thorough investigation.”

She paused, and seemed to focus on a place far in the distance.

“They will be found. And punished.”

“Please consider all of the resources of the Temple at your disposal,” T’Nedara had to breath deeply to hide her visceral emotional reaction. But she couldn’t hide the raised volume of her voice or the green flush in her cheeks.

They conversed no more that night, but there was an unspoken understanding between them regarding the fate of the cult.

T’Pol quietly utilized some questionable search methods only available to a sub-Commander, taking liberties with the rules that ensured the safety and privacy of Vulcan civilians.

T’Nedara, meanwhile, had successfully discovered the ancient texts of the Kolinahru, and studied the forbidden psionic powers in secret.

Denied love, they would indulge their rage instead. It was a bold but risky path, especially for Vulcans.

Vulcan Biometrics – Part 1

A Star Trek Enterprise Fanfic

Land acknowledgement: This book was written on the unceded territory of the Mixtec Nation in Oaxaca State, Mexico.

Copyright notice: This is a work of independent fan fiction and is in no way affiliated with or used by Paramount or its affiliates.


“Well, that’s why they say, hot like Vulcan!” Dr. McCoy, “Amok Time.” (Star Trek: The Original Series, S2E1 “Amok Time.”).


Shi’Kaar, Vulcan, Stardate 2167

    His eyes might change, Trip said. Sometimes it happens with human children. They are born with blue eyes, but they change.

    The months passed by and his eyes stayed blue. T’Pol decided it was easier and safer to hide him than to explain him.

    Nobody in this era would have believed it even if she had tried to name Trip as the father, never mind the social and political implications. The former Chief Engineer of the Enterprise was supposed to be dead, and his present circumstances were a dangerous secret.

    T’Pol was a controversial figure on Vulcan for working so closely with humans already. Rumors that she had given birth to one had deepened the rift.

    Those hysterical, illogical, smelly things. The Vulcan High Command was wise to keep them out of space.

    How could she have lowered herself?

    And what kind of dangerous creature would it be?

Glasses or lenses would hide her son’s eyes, turning them the same lightless hue as any passing Vulcan.

Officially, Selek was the child of Koss, T’Pol’s former husband. Despite him being incredulous initially, since a Vulcan-Human hybrid was thought to be a biological impossibility, he agreed to play along. Just for the sake of scientific curiosity, of course.


Tinsha Monastery, Khomi Province, Vulcan – Star Date 2197

       Selek could still hear the blood rushing in his ears and the echo of the gong. The thin, dry air was heavy with the smell of copper. His lungs contracted, shortening his breath. The pain of his wounds only seemed to enrage him further, as if his muscles could contract and burst from his own skin.

It is said the body is in torment, but the mind remains unclouded.

He remembered everything vividly. The memory of the duel was still fresh, and it was flooding his mind like the pool of blood open and growing on the warm stone.

His breath was short again, and he was choking, gasping to breathe, and failing. The sound was drowned out by a jarring memory of his own rage and the whistle of the tirpan as it swung through the air.

Selek felt the cold of an infirmary bed against his back and understood. T’Nedara was nearby.

           The sea of dark green that had reached up to consume him thinned, and the bells and gongs faded. A coolness touched his forehead and spread to his eyes and mouth.

The rushing in his ears stopped and he heard a familiar voice.

            The mind controls the body

            Control The Mind

            And the Body will follow

Selek exhaled heavily, and felt his joints loosen and his muscles unravel. He took a deep breath, and the air in his lungs seemed to draw him upward.

The prayer was based on Surak’s teachings and was repeated often in the temple. He pushed some air through his mouth and found he could speak again, and repeated the chant.

            The mind controls the body

            Control The Mind

            And the Body will follow

Light came back into his eyes and his vision cleared. She was kneeling next to him, a bowl of watery green liquid and piles of cloth bandages were close at hand.

Her index and middle fingers were pressed against his forehead. It was a chant derived from the Way of Hakihr, a monastic tradition descended from the Kolinahru. This was an ancient Vulcan sect that turned its psychic energy inward as an interpretation of Surak’s teachings.

The chant had revived him.

            “T’Nedara,” he spoke carefully, his breathing still painful.

            “Selek,” She answered him calmly, but her hands were visibly trembling. He tried to sit up, but he moved too quickly and winced in pain.

It was difficult to hide her alarm.

“No, don’t move,” she said, trying to sound like the calm and logical expert in Biometrics that she was every day. She touched her fingers to his forehead again.

He closed his eyes and raised his hand to take hers. He said nothing, but he could feel her nerves humming at the same rate as his own. His eyes were blurred sweat and tears, but he was able to give her a questioning look.

“My blood burns with yours,” She said softly. “You have defeated your rival, as the Vulcan laws are written.”

Selek wanted to speak, but the air caught in his throat. She pressed her two fingers against his mouth, and not only to silence him. For a Vulcan, this was a moment of passion, a frenzied kiss in a rushed moment.

The light touch of her fingers and the air from her mouth brushing against his face calmed his nerves from the duel, yet drove him into another frenzy.

She undid the clasp of her robe. It slipped away from her body. They lay down together in the infirmary bed.

“I claim my Champion,” she held him close, and their burning blood was cooled. 

The gong sounded. The trial of the Kal If Fe had ended.