30AN: I've seen all of season 1 and 2, parts of 3 and 4. I get why the show was cancelled, the acting might have improved but the characterisations! And that Trip/T'Pol drug/sex thing! Much of my writing for the genera takes place in the initial two seasons as my morality and personal ethics can cope. This time period is also the most Archer/Tucker centric which helps this story along. As this is AU, I've attempted to keep as much cannon as possible. All the facts on Archer/Tucker's early years come from Memory Alpha.
The title is taken from the Shania Twain song, with many of the chapter titles using the lyrics. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed creating this story.
Charles Tucker the Third, or Trip as he was known to friends and family, learnt at a very young age that he loved people. Of course, the fact that most people, especially women, found him at least mildly attractive didn't take long to sink in, or take advantage of. Being Caucasian, blond and blue eyed in an increasingly homogenous and united world helped him stand out in a crowd. As did Trip's sparkling wit and personality, which he happily cultivated along with his Southern American twang.
Most things came easily to the good natured, principled individual. Regrettably, school took up six hours each day, hours Trip would rather be pulling apart any mechanical or electronic gadget, just to see how it worked before putting it back together. Thanks to a startling intelligence and his mama's insistence he just get on with those jobs he didn't like before accomplishing the ones he did, homework got done in record time. This fact, more than any other, allowed the child to follow more physical pursuits. He played anything with a ball as easily as he took a breath. Water sports came just as naturally, especially snorkelling and scuba diving. Living in Florida, swimming and surfing further bleached his hair but gave him a golden tan, meaning he blended in a little better when attempting to pick up girls in his youth.
It hadn't taken long for the pubescent teen to understand there were two main types of women. Keepers and overnight sleepers. Trip's first foray into love occurred at the tender age of fifteen, not that he hadn't been interested in girls in his earlier school years. He just hadn't been able to overcome his shyness in their company. Opportunities to develop a crush on a classmate decreased as girls didn't want anything to do with a boy at least two years younger. Not that it stopped Trip learning to flirt outrageously.
Sally Marsden, one of the most popular Seniors abruptly ended his virginity. She'd made all the moves, intrigued and willing to go to any lengths to attract the young genius in her class. The short-lived relationship proved to be a steep learning curve. While Trip lost his naïveté and tender heart, Sally happily taught Tucker the difference between a nice girl and a good time. He'd stuck to the latter ever since, guarding his emotions. One day, Trip knew he'd find his keeper, that was, after an illustrious career in Starfleet and several years traveling the stars. By then he should be ready to settle down and raise his own family.
Social stereotypes declined after the Eugenics fiasco and disappeared completely post World War III. Humanity interbred when transport, consumables and housing became a universal constant and people elected to live where it suited their interests. Interracial marriages increased, couples were encouraged to have at least three children to repopulate after the devastating losses of the previous century. Individuals turned to education and training, taking pride in improving themselves and humanity in general. Charles Tucker wanted in on that concept, enjoying whatever life threw at him, wherever he happened to be. That's how he ended up listening to one of the most boring lectures, in one of the most boring courses Starfleet Academy had to offer.
"I guess," Trip smirked wearily, sitting in what he hoped would be his final lesson ever, "that's what allowed Zefram Cochrane to create the first warp capable vessel."
"What was that, Cadet?" the stony-faced, grey haired, guest lecturer demanded. Obviously, the officer picked up on Tucker's inattention and decided to humiliate the student.
"Actually, Sir," Trip stood, dropping all pretence of a smirk. Standing at ease, he addressed Captain Layton as if an equal. Tucker had honestly been trying to follow the dry explanation of advance warp theory. Increasingly infuriated by the older man's bumbling effort, Trip knew he could do a far better job. He might only be twenty, but Charles Tucker III's PhD thesis would be complete six months after he graduated Starfleet's officer training. "I believe you haven't taken in to account a paper published on orbital warp mechanics two months ago which makes the information your teaching redundant."
"Is that so, Mr…" The teacher sneered.
"Tucker, Sir," Trip held in the sigh. Why can't these older Starfleet types realise there's a younger generation that's ready and raring to get out of the solar system and go exploring. With that thought came the realisation that he still needed to pass his final exams next week so he'd qualify to work on any warp engine. "Cadet Charles Tucker."
"As you seem to know so much about the topic," Captain Layton allowed his expression to settle into arrogance. Indicating the lectern, he challenged the student to take his place. "Perhaps you might make an effort to finish this lecture, Cadet."
Lt. Anne Hemmings, the regular class teacher chose that moment to cover the threatening smile on her lips with her hand. Understanding how this would play out, she glanced at Captain Layton's escort, her eyes imploring him to do something. The Lt. Commander's expression altered slightly, sitting higher in his chair, his gaze bouncing between his superior, Lt. Hemmings and the cadet, wondering what he'd missed. The atmosphere in the classroom became electrified as Tucker took up the challenge.
"Sure," Trip moved towards the head of the class with an easy saunter. "Don't mind if I do," he drawled, causing several of his classmates to smirk knowingly.
Eyeing the incorrigible student, Lt. Commander Jonathon Archer picked up his PADD with an unpleasant feeling taking residence in the region of his stomach. Lt. Hemmings lent over, tapped a phrase into the device, then sat back to enjoy the show. Glancing down at the gadget, Archer found the for mentioned paper easily. Skim reading the abstract, it appeared Cadet Tucker made an interesting find. That was, until Jon noticed the name of the primary author.
Shit, Lt. Commander Archer cringed, his eyes taking in the situation, Captain Layton's going to get eaten alive by this kid and there's not a dam thing I can do about it.
Archer's eyes sought out Hemming's. Jon's glare all the reprimand needed, Anne had the tenacity to blush, before once again tapping in yet another series of commands. This data, Archer knew, would take longer to read and comprehend. Cadet Tucker's personnel file appeared on the screen. Quickly scanning the summary, Lt. Hemmings scrolled to the important facts. It appeared he had the unadulterated version. While Jon wanted to watch the Cadet explain the main theory behind his PhD thesis, he really needed a way to save Captain Layton's reputation. The man was a bumbling idiot, thus the reason Commodore Forest sent Archer as his minder on this lecture circuit.
"Hi, ya'll. I guess I don't need to introduce myself," Trip turned on his irrepressible charm and million-watt smile. Blue eyes raked everyone in the room, turning slightly to include the officers on the dais with a nod. He'd always been a natural speaker, charisma oozing out of every pore when the subject proved personally interesting. Several of the young women started preening as Tucker's gaze returned to his audience, even though they'd been in his class for near on ten months. "As ya'll know, we have cargo transports capable of a sustained warp 1.5. Not much of an improvement on Mr. Cochrane's first flight in Phoenix eighty years ago. Seems we haven't been able to break warp 2, even with all the resources of the Warp 5 Complex and the help of our Vulcan friends. That engine in its current, physical reiteration, I'm sad to say, just isn't capable."
Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer felt his blood pressure rise. Who the hell is this kid, his mind shouted, to be debasing my father's life work?
"I'm not going to bore you to tears with basic warp theory, cause if you don't pass your exam week after next, well, there's just no hope for you. Professor Tanamal Sying from MIT has been studying advance warp field theory for five years, in conjunction with the Starfleet teams here at the Complex. Turns out, the quality of the dilithum crystal matrix and matter/anti-matter intermix is crucial to the stability of a subspace bubble required to create a warp field, especially as the warp factor increases."
"Speed escalates the need," Trip chuckled, enjoying the rapt attention of his colleagues. "The team at MIT have generated a whole new set of stability equations and tested them with a statistical variance of less than one percent. That's over a thousand simulations with every one achieving warp 2 or higher. Now, we have to move onto turning this theory into a real engine. Seems Henry Archer was on the right track, but time and materials have moved on."
Vindicated, Jon's mind shouted, intrigued as to where this kid was going. He hadn't heard any of this information and wondered why the son of Henry Archer had been left out of the loop.
"This new design will only be possible," Trip grinned, in his element, "with a new style plasma injector…."
"That information is classified, Cadet," Captain Layton injected hotly, hoping to stop the upstart. Rage infused his demeanour. Ian moved into a position between the cadet and the class, glowering at Tucker. "Not another word."
"Sir," Trip returned a similar glare, offended at the interruption, "I tweaked that component because none of our previous computer simulations could cope with the increased demands on the engine designed to reach warp two. Truth be told, I'm not sure how much longer Starfleet is going to be able to keep it a secret. My colleagues at MIT…"
"Your colleagues, Cadet Tucker?" the irate Captain demanded, obviously attempting to belittle the inexperienced younger man. "That's rich. You're what, all of twenty, hardly old enough to have a basic degree in Engineering."
Sighing, loudly, Trip faced Captain Layton, blue eyes blazing with passion. As much as he hated blowing his own horn, it looked as if nothing but the absolute truth would do here. "Professor Sying agreed to take me on as her doctoral student five years ago. Hell, I was so board in high school, I'd completed half a college degree before I graduated. That team she's arranged, it was to help me gather the data I needed to make Henry Archer's engine fly. When I present the conclusions of my doctoral thesis to Starfleet in a few months, it's going to shake the tree at the Complex. We're going to have to rethink every component…"
"Captain," Lt. Commander Archer interrupted, a serious timber to his voice, making both combatants turn their wrath towards him. The argument had already gotten out of hand. Holding out a PADD, Jon hoped to forestall his commanding officer from digging himself further into an already well-established hole. "I suggest you read this, Sir, and have the class dismissed before you continue your discussion with Cadet Tucker."
Snatching the device, Ian Layton's eyes bulged. Glancing up from the data, he glared at Trip, before continuing to read. Waving a hand in the air, Lt. Commander Archer knew he'd been given orders. As did Lt. Hemmings. Anne, quickly dismissed her class, with warning to study for their finals, starting Monday week. Gathering up her personal items, she left the room without a backward glance. The smile, however, she couldn't hide. It had taken three lessons with Trip Tucker to appreciate his disinterest was actually boredom, his engaging personality a ruse to cover his intelligence and there was little Starfleet's new academy could teach him.
