Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.

Notes: Fifth in the Switcheroo Series. Here is the story of how Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker met Ambassador Soval. Trip's birthday isn't explicitly stated in Enterprise canon, so I assumed it is the same as Connor Trinneer's, which is March 19. (Info from Memory Alpha's website) Connor (and Trip) was 32 when the series premiered, so in this AU (which is in its "first season" and starts in 2154. Note the different starting date from the "real universe") this Trip Tucker was born on March 19, 2122.

A picture of the IDIC symbol is located on the Memory Alpha (Star Trek Wikipedia) website. Just look up IDIC in the search feature.

This has been revised from the original version to reflect current changes in the series. Kov is mentioned, though he isn't in this story. There are many Switcheroo cameos including Lizzie Tucker (alive and well in this AU), Captain Ramirez (Intrepid's captain in the "Real Universe", Nathan Kemper, and many others.)

Rating: T

Please R&R

One

19 March 2154

a week and a half after "The Batty Engineer"

T'Pol blew out her meditation candles and began to roll up her mat. This was one part of her busy day she cherished; the quiet time for contemplation to calm the mind. "Still the mind, still the soul," she murmured to herself. Healer T'Kuir had taught her that as a child; she considered it as true now as it was then.

The door chime interrupted her musing. "Enter," she called.

The door slid open to reveal Lieutenant Commander Jon Archer. He glanced at the still-smoking meditation candles and the mat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you, T'Pol. I can always come back later."

"You are not interrupting, Jonathan. I had just finished." She gestured him to a soft floor pillow. "May I get you something to drink? Saya juice, perhaps?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Actually, I just came by to drop a package off for you."

She raised her eyebrow and repeated, "A package?"

"From Soval." He pressed a palm-sized box into her hand. "He didn't tell me what it was, but he said it would comfort you, should you need the comfort."

She examined the plain wooden box, but the outside of it gave no indication of its contents. Her curiosity got the better of her and she slid the top of it open. Nestled inside was a copper circle with a tiny emerald stud in its northwest quadrant. A triangle bisected the larger circle, its point touching the emerald. The whole symbol was mounted on a disk of sea blue glass.

Her breath caught as she lifted the symbol out of the box. It was strung with a copper chain, with an emerald-colored clasp. The low lights sparkled on it and revealed colors hidden within it.

"Kol-Ut-Shan," she whispered. "K'lalatar prnak'lirli. I have never seen it represented in such manner before."

Jon chuckled. "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. IDIC. That has always been my favorite Vulcan concept, T'Pol. I think it explains the Universe."

"Indeed." She gazed at him. "Thank you, Jonathan. It is...stunning. I must send Soval my gratitude for such a gift."

He nodded and got up from the pillow. "Tell him hello for me. I have to drop off another package, T'Pol, so I will see you tomorrow morning."

"Another package?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Also from Soval?"

He smiled. "Actually, yes. It's a birthday present for Trip."

Her gaze became confused. "A birthday present for...Lieutenant Commander Tucker?" she repeated. "From Soval?"

Jon gave her one of his 'come on, he's not that bad' looks. "Remember, Soval knows Trip too. I introduced them to each other about ten years ago, when I first arrived at the Vulcan Consulate in San Francisco."

"Ah." She raised an eyebrow, this time in understanding. "So that is how the three of you first met. I recall Soval mentioning a young security man assigned to the Consulate...that must have been Lieutenant Commander Tucker."

His grin widened. "Yes, and it's quite a story. I'm sure he'd tell you all about it, if you asked him. Why don't you tag along while I drop this off at Trip's quarters?"

T'Pol opened her mouth to refuse, but she was genuinely...intrigued at the prospect of knowing the details of Trip and Soval's first meeting. Soval was cool, logical and Vulcan. Trip was passionate, illogical and Human. How could the two become—and still remain—friends a decade later?

"Very well," she said. "I will accompany you. I'm sure this is quite the story."

Trip Tucker smiled at the young woman on the screen and shook his finger at her. "Now, young lady, I want to know every sordid detail. Who is he, what does he do, and does he have Mama and Dad's approval? Does he treat ya right? 'Cause if he doesn't, I'm gonna hop the next transport home and beat the crap outta him."

Elizabeth Tucker rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, Trip, don't pull that big brother act on me again. The answers, in order: his name is Jamie, he's British, he's a fellow architect, and Mama and Daddy have met him. Alexandra and Eddie have also met him and they like him. And Ian absolutely adores him; you know your nephew, Trip, he's got an internal radar that rivals Mama's when it comes to people." She stuck out her tongue at him and finished, "So there."

"He's got Ian's approval? Already? Wow!" Trip chuckled as she glowered at him. "Then he's gotta be somethin'. Though I gotta wonder...what the hell is it with these Brits? I got one who keeps after me for a physical— "

Elizabeth's grin was positively sadistic. "I bet she wants more than just a quick 'physical'."

He glared at her. "The doc is a he, Lizzie, and no, I don't think of him 'in that way'. I'd rather sleep with a Tellarite first."

"Be careful what you wish for, brother mine. Aren't you guys supposed to push back the borders of the known universe?" Trip sputtered and she laughed. Then her grin softened as she continued, "But hey, I called you to wish you a happy birthday, Trip, not talk about my love life, and definitely not about the prospect of shagging a Tellarite."

"Listen to ya. You already sound like a Brit."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I hope your Armory guys threw you a party. They didn't give you a fireworks display, did they?"

"Nah, I think the cap'n would've had a fit if they did. And they didn't tie me to a torpedo and threaten to shoot me off the ship. In fact, they—"A chime interrupted him. "Enter! Anyway, they decided to keep it quiet-like and—" His grin widened as he saw his visitors. "Jon! T'Pol! Hey, Lizzie, Jon decided to show up!"

Jon Archer smiled at the blonde-haired woman on the screen. "Hi there, Lizzie."

She matched the smile, her blue eyes sparkling, so much like her older brother's. "Hello, Jon. Keeping Trip out of trouble?"

"Trying my hardest, but you know him—"Jon left the sentence hanging and Trip mock-glared at him. "Don't let me interrupt, Lizzie."

"Don't worry about it, Jon." Her eyes drifted over to the Vulcan woman. "You must be Lieutenant T'Pol. My brother has talked a lot about you."

She raised an eyebrow at her easy familiarity. "And he has talked a lot about you. It is a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth."

"Call me Lizzie. Everyone else does." She frowned at something, then glanced back up. "Well, I've just about reached my calling limit here. I'll tell Mama and Daddy you're doing okay, Trip. Take care of yourself, okay?"

His eyes softened. "You too. Love ya, baby sister."

"Love ya too, Big Brother." Lizzie smiled and her image winked out.

Trip sighed and ran a hand through his short blond hair. "Yeah, that was my younger sister," he answered T'Pol's unspoken question. "I got an older sister, a younger brother and Lizzie. I'm the eldest son and the second kid."

T'Pol nodded. "She seems rather pleasant, Lieutenant Commander." At his glower, she amended, "Trip."

"Lizzie's the type that gets along with most people," Trip said. He glanced at Jon. "You two missed a hell of a party in the Armory."

"Sorry, Trip, but I had some things that came up," Jon apologized, "and I was hoping to make it up to you with a bottle of good Kentucky bourbon and a present from Soval."

He blinked. "A present from Soval? Don't you dare." He accepted the flat box from Jon and opened it. A twin of T'Pol's present lay there nestled in velvet, but instead of an emerald, the smaller sphere was of a more bluish stone. "Wow. This is pretty, but Soval knows I'm not really big on jewelry..."

"It is a symbol from Vulcan philosophy," T'Pol said. "The English translation is 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations', or IDIC for short."

Trip grinned and said, "Yeah, that sounds like something Soval would believe in. Well, I should send him a thank-you note in the mornin'." He deftly unhooked the chain and slipped it over his head, then hooked it again. "Noticed you got one too. It suits ya. Interestin' he'd send one of these IDIC things to both of us..."

"I am curious as to how you know Soval," T'Pol said. "You have said it is—"

"—a long story. Yeah, I did, didn't I." He chuckled. "Well, you might as well pull up a chair, 'cause it is. Break out the bottle of bourbon, Jon, and I'll get scrounge up some tea for T'Pol. Can't say I'm amiss in my hostin' duties—"

T'Pol sat comfortably on one of the padded chairs as Jon and Trip busied themselves with the drinks. She hid a smile as she thought, Yes, I expect it to be an interesting tale indeed.

Vulcan Consulate, San Francisco, March 11, 2144

Ensign Charles Tucker the Third sighed as he approached the security gate of the Vulcan Consulate. The unsmiling guard on duty looked down on him with an impassive expression. Although Trip Tucker was tall for a Human, this Vulcan topped him by at least seven inches and fifty pounds. I wouldn't want to run into this guy in a dark alley, he thought.

"Ensign Tucker?" the Vulcan asked. He extended an open hand; Trip moved to shake it, then remembered in time that Vulcans didn't like to be touched. Instead, he handed the guard his PADD with his orders on it. "You are to be one of the security detail here at the Consulate?"

Trip nodded soberly. "That's correct, sir."

The guard's mouth twitched as he read the orders. "You do not need to call me 'sir'. I am Third Officer Somek, and as Third Officer, I believe your rank supercedes mine."

"Ah—" Trip felt the color rise in his cheeks. "I didn't know that."

"That is understandable." Somek handed the PADD back to him. "The Ambassador's assistant is expecting you. Go through those doors and wait for him."

"Thank you, Third Officer." Trip nodded and set off in the direction Somek had indicated. Now that has been a first impression: embarrassing himself in front of a junior Vulcan officer. There's something about that kid, though, something endearing behind that stiff exterior. He chuckled under his breath. Yeah, that's real good. You don't need to go corruptin' Vulcan kids.

The foyer of the Consulate was a large, airy room, well lit by skylights in the ceiling and huge windows. The honey-colored walls reflected the sunlight, a marble fountain gurgled in the corner, and the sweet smell of Vulcan flowers wafted through the air. Trip felt his tension melt away, but he automatically surveyed the room anyway, noting the possible exits. He noticed the security cameras placed high in the corners, the silent scanners built into the walls. It was an ingrained habit; after all he was a security officer.

Soft voices echoed off the walls. Two voices: one quiet and subdued, the other harsh and strident. Trip frowned and turned towards the spiral staircase set in one corner of the room. He recognized a handful of words..."unnecessary, emotional, difficult", but most of the argument was muffled and distorted. Were they discussing him?

He took a deep breath and went through some mental exercises to calm himself. The last thing he wanted to do was fly off the handle and make himself an ass in front of the Vulcans. He'd rated highly on weaponry certifications and unarmed combat, and had even began studying some Vulcan martial arts. If the Vulcans didn't want him here, he could always go back to the Weapons Development Division at Cape Canaveral...

A Vulcan in a military uniform made her way down the staircase, her boots ringing off the marble. Her gray tunic had no decoration, but the insignia marked the woman as Head of Consulate Security, with the rank of Major. Trip immediately snapped to attention as she approached. She was much shorter than he was, with glossy black hair in a tight twist on the back of her head. Her eyes were orbs of brown ice.

She said nothing for several moments, but just looked up at him. The officer radiated a sense of cold, no-nonsense efficiency that Trip identified almost immediately, but it was mixed with a dangerous aura. This woman was used to being obeyed. Uh-oh, this gal is bad news, he thought.

"Ensign Charles Tucker, I presume?" The cool tone had a touch of haughtiness.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

"My name is Major T'Lydya, Ensign, and I expect to be addressed as such. Am I clear?"

He stifled a wave of irritation and said, "Yes, Major T'Lydya."

"Good." She walked around him once, as if assessing him. "You are assigned to the security detail protecting Ambassador Soval's new assistant. Your Human commanding officer is Captain Carlos Ramirez. You will report to him from now on, is that understood?"

Trip stifled a wave of relief. He knew it was unprofessional, but he dreaded having to deal with the hostile T'Lydya. "Yes, Major T'Lydya."

"Soval's assistant is well-regarded in diplomatic circles, but he has the tendency to find himself in rather...tense situations. His casual acceptance of the most basic of security measures is quite unacceptable. It is hoped that he would respond more positively to a uniquely Human approach."

The dry irony struck a chord within Trip. He'd had to do bodyguard detail on high officials who hadn't the faintest clue of how difficult it was to protect them. Was Soval's assistant one of them? Trip suddenly thought, Was the major talking about Soval's assistant when she was upstairs and not me? If the man was as casual about protocols as T'Lydya implied, then he understood why Captain Ramirez needed an extra security man on the premises.

"I'll do my best to impress upon him the necessity of security protocols, Major T'Lydya."

She didn't smile, but Trip felt her humor all the same. He also got the feeling that the major was relieved she didn't have to deal with Soval's assistant. Trip had the mental image of an elderly, crotchety man with an attitude problem.

Great, what have I gotten myself into?

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of activity. Although T'Lydya ran a tight unit, she also insisted in following some enjoyable traditions. One of them was a formal banquet for their newest officer. Trip met some of the enlisted men and women who would be under his direct command. To his surprise, none of the Vulcans seemed upset at having a Human commander. On the contrary, they asked him questions about Human customs where he came from.

"They know you're from a different area of the planet," explained Captain Ramirez. The Head of the Terran Security detachment chuckled and added, "You should've seen them when I arrived, Ensign. I had to explain the Mexican holiday of Cinco de Mayo and they wanted to hear every detail."

Trip grinned and took another sip of his Vulcan tea. "Well, curiosity is a Vulcan trait."

"Most of them are very dedicated to their job, Ensign. I don't think you'll run into any problems. If you do, just let me or Diplomat Archer know."

"Archer?" Trip repeated. He frowned in confusion. "I thought Henry Archer was the head of Starfleet's Engineering Research and Development. He's supposed to be workin' on a faster-than-light engine, last I read."

Ramirez inclined his head. "You an engineer, too?"

He shook his head in a rueful negative. "Nope, not formally, but I got some interest in that kinda stuff. I took some courses at the University of Florida; one of 'em just happened to be a design lab and I got into weaponry there." He chuckled. "Got into security protocols and tactics and here I am."

"I went to Florida State." Ramirez grinned and added, "Football season is another holiday over here. The Vulcans don't understand it, but a few appreciate the...statistics."

Trip choked on his tea. "Aw, the statistics. Yeah, right." He glanced casually around the room and noticed a tall, brown-haired man in a Vulcan-style tunic. The man chatted with Major T'Lydya, who seemed to only tolerate him. Despite her standoffishness, he still treated her with respect due her rank.

The man bowed to her and she returned it, albeit grudgingly. Then he turned and spotted Trip. The man's eyes sparkled with humor, his mouth stretched in a genuine smile. The aura of eagerness reminded Trip of a friendly dog...Pomeranian? Naaah, beagle, maybe. The man hurried over to Trip's side.

"Ensign Tucker? I'm Jonathan Archer." Archer extended his hand and this time, Trip allowed himself to shake his hand. "Major T'Lydya just told me you've arrived."

"Just stepped off the transport this mornin'," Trip answered. So, this was the new assistant to Ambassador Soval. Archer had his father's look around the eyes, the same benign face Henry had, as if he was sympathetic to your cause. Trip understood that skill would be invaluable in Archer's line of work.

"You sound like you're from...Missouri? Arkansas?"

Trip chuckled and shrugged. "The panhandle of Florida, actually, but I have relatives in Mizoorah and Ar-kan-saw," he replied, laying on the Southern accent a little thicker as usual.

"Glad to finally meet you. T'Lydya was concerned that we might have some kind of personality conflict, but I'm willing to work with you on whatever protocol you deem necessary." Archer smiled and glanced at Ramirez. "And a good afternoon to you too, Carlos. How's your wife doing?"

Ramirez chuckled. "She's more than ready for our daughter's appearance, Jon. Doctor Reed says it should be any day now."

"Well, I have confidence in the good doctor's skills." Archer's admiration for this particular doctor's skills sounded genuine, and Trip made a mental note of it. "Well, since you're officially off-duty, what should I call you, Mister Tucker?"

"I go by Trip, sir."

"Jon. I'm not on duty, either." Archer gave him a quizzical look. "'Trip'? Isn't that a strange name for a security officer?"

Trip sighed and rolled his eyes. "It doesn't refer to my sense of balance, if that's what you're worried about. It's a nickname."

"I'm sure that's quite a story," Jon commented. "Mind sharing it?"

Trip grinned at the curiosity in his voice. "Sure. Sit back and I'll tell ya all about it."