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Mailbox for Charles "Trip" Tucker III

For Anatoly

Trip had been on the island known as Tabula Rasa for 3 days now and every day, he came a little bit closer to accepting this new reality. Considering how relative reality had been for him lately, with everything that had happened in the Expanse and the time traveling to World War II, it was very strange to be standing still in a sense. To not be constantly worrying about the warp engine, the crew, the Xindi, the Captain and T’Pol...and thinking about Elizabeth, who was never far from his mind.

He knew he probably should be trying to find a way home, Jon and Malcolm would be, but perhaps it was proof of T’Pol rubbing off on him that he’d decided to accept what he’d been told about not being able to leave and save his energy for when he did get back home. It wouldn’t be the first time his, and Enterprise’s, fate had been completely out of his hands.

Maybe a part of him just wanted to stop for a while. To just be Trip Tucker; not Charles Tucker the III, oldest sibling of the Tucker family making sure Elizabeth didn’t die in vain, or Commander Tucker, third in command of the first Earth starship and in charge of keeping the crew’s spirits up or the Chief Engineer, responsible for keeping Starfleet’s first Warp 5 engine working in as top shape as he could.

If he was going to be sent back to Earth in another realty, or whatever the explanation was as in all honesty, he’d tuned it out once he realized he was cut off from Enterprise, at least he was someplace with a beach. Trip was from a state where the beach was never more then an hour or so away so he’d spent a good part of his life on the water. In fact, he’d got his start as an engineer on boat engines. When not with his beloved warp engine, it was where he felt the most at home. He had faced the seemingly dreaded cloths box soon after his arrival and had been given a pair of brightly colored swim trunks that’s he’d practically lived in since. When he wasn’t drinking at one of the many bars on this place.

But at the moment, Trip was unfortunately sober and sitting on the beach. He’d gone out swimming earlier and now he was just sitting with his eyes half closed, enjoying the soothing sounds of the waves and the smell of salt in the air. It did wonders for calming him.

A calm that lasted until he suddenly had a lapful of squirming dog who was doing his best to lick Trip’s face,. Surprised, he burst out in startled laughter. The amount of dogs he’d seen on the island was comforting, especially after years of borrowing Porthos from Jon. And this one was fluffy but still kinda a cute. “Well, ain’t you a cute lil’ fella. Guess all dogs have that sense of when a guy needs some cheerin’ up, huh?”

The little dog barked happily and Trip was more then happy to scratch him, trying out all of Porthos’ favorite spots until he found one that worked. “There ya go, lil’ fella. Porthos always did love a good ear rub. Ole’ Jonny could spend hours watchin’ water polo and scratching that beagle’s ears. I guess this whole thing could be worse. The island coulda brought me before I found out the Cap’n was alive.” He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “Yeah, definitely could be worse. I don’t think I could stand knowin’ Lizzie and Jon were dead. I just hope Enterprise is alright.”

Trip knew he should probably find out who the little dog belong too but for right now, it was good to pour out his thoughts to a listening ear, even if it was canine. And he couldn’t help but wonder if the little dog liked cheese as a reward...


amused arms crossed
Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III

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October 2011

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