Legacy Volume 1
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Legacy Volume 1
Contact Jenna at
kszines@aol.com if you want to order two, three, or four zines to obtain a
price.
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Want to read some of the zine before you decide whether to buy it? Sort of like
picking up a book in the bookstore and flipping through the pages, it's a good
way to discover if this zine is the right one for you. Just click on the links
below to be transported into the special K/S world created by that particular
author….
SACRIFICES by Kathleen Resch
THUNDER AND LIGHTNING by Dovya Blacque
STANDING DOWN by Addison Reed
GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS by Anne Elliot
ARTICLES (A SAMPLE)
ZINES: THE TIME OF THE BEGINNING: 1976-1985 by Carolyn Spencer
ART: DRIBBLING SCRIBBLING WOMEN by Liz
LETTERZINES: EARLY LETTERCOLS AND LETTERZINES by K.S. Langley
THE INTERNET: THE SOURCE OF THE MISSISSIPPI by Lyrastar
From Sacrifices by Kathleen Resch
Cool air drifted across Kirk’s skin. The contrast between the ferocious heat
less than a meter away and the oasis where he now stood was like a knife-slice,
shocking in its sudden delineation of boundary.
A breeze rustled through the waneti bush, separating some of the tiny white
blossoms from their stems and strewing them on the ground. From where Kirk stood
in the gazebo, which was nestled in the furthest curve of Amanda’s enclosed
garden, he could see the thin branches ripple in the hot wind. He remained safe
in the shadows, protected from the fierceness of the late morning Vulcan sun.
The cool air soothing his skin wasn’t simply the result of the shade the arched
ceiling provided. Rather, the ceiling contained a cooling unit, providing a
welcome respite from the heat that had voraciously sucked moisture from his
skin, his lips, his eyes.
The unrelenting heat had stolen his tears as well.
His past, destroyed. His future, sacrificed.
He had always lived in the present. It was habit to continue doing so, since all
other options were gone.
Dry-eyed, he kept his gaze focused on the doorway to Amanda’s private office. A
mosaic pathway, gleaming crystals embedded in the grey and sand-beige flagstones,
snaked its way from that doorway to where he stood. The path wound its way
artfully close to carefully-placed native plants, yet it remained a thing
separate from the expanse of red bare earth surrounding it: as careful in its
definition of what it was as what it was not. Artificial, built to dissipate
heat, it contained its own cooling unit to allow the comfortable passage of
humans, able to almost completely dispel the furnace-blast of Vulcan summer air.
Here, in the cool and shade of the gazebo, he could have been standing in a
garden on Earth.
Amanda, her trim form gleaming in the whiteness of her veil and robes, walked
toward him, her small hands carrying a laden tray. She’d refused his earlier
offer of help with the tray; she’d sent him ahead when the comm bell rang.
He had paused at the tutelage room on his way to the outer door, had listened as
the computer quizzed Spock, had heard Spock’s dispassionate answers.
He had watched for long moments, but Spock had never acknowledged his presence,
and, finally, he’d remembered his original goal and gone outside.
Amanda joined him in the shade. Another gust of wind scattered white waneti
blossoms across the gazebo’s floor. They sifted and moved around Amanda’s feet
as she walked toward the table. She glanced down, then over to the parent plant.
“Lovely, aren’t they? I’m glad to be here at home while they’re in bloom. I
wasn’t here the last time. They won’t blossom again for another decade.”
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From Thunder and Lightning
by Dovya Blacque
The storm front had moved in slowly, hadn’t been on any of the weather charts.
In fact, at first glance, the clouds on the horizon had seemed a minor mar on
the weather, certainly nothing that would cause the changes to come.
That there was weather at all on a starship didn’t seem to bother the ship’s
surgeon; he was never one to argue with his own faculties. And his faculties,
sharpened on the slate that was the best crew in the ’Fleet, were as sharp as
they came and he’d be the first one to tell anyone who would listen about it. In
detail.
So, when the storm approached, he was the only person on board to see it, to
smell the ionized air and feel the tiny hairs on his arms rise up and take
notice. He was the only one to see the light change as the sun was sporadically
blotted out or feel the chill that grew more noticeable by the day. He was the
only one to understand that this weather front, this a-brewin’ storm, could
scuttle the ship if no one took proper action and took navigation into their own
hands. His own hands, since no one else knew there was a storm at all. Or even
that the weather had turned. It was so obvious to McCoy, he really couldn’t
understand how no one else could sense it, smell it and taste it as the air
shifted, mutated toward danger.
But then, McCoy told himself, he was the only one who really understood the
thunder and the lightning; he understood them better than they did themselves.
Even they—both scientists in their own right—didn’t fully understand just how
connected one was to the other; thunder didn’t clap without lightning striking
and, without the thunder to come, lightning had no purpose, no cause to flash.
They were integral to one another, stronger together and unable to exist apart.
That didn’t make them any more willing to admit the facts of physics, no matter
how logical those facts might be. Didn’t mean either stubborn cuss of them would
turn to the other and ask what was wrong, would try to fix it. No, they’d just
go about their business pretending nothing was amiss, that nothing was causing
them to change their nature, thunder becoming a whimper and lightning a mere
spark. It was a sorry sight and, when it came down to it, McCoy was kind of glad
no one else could see the storm approaching, no one else sensed the signs.
But that left it in his hands and, as much as he loved them, as much as he
cursed and growled at them, he sometimes grew weary of being the peacekeeper.
Oh hell, Bones, McCoy thought, just go beard that damned proud lion in his den
already. This has gone on long enough.
With a heavy sigh, McCoy shook his head, standing and moving slowly from his
office in sickbay. It was nearly an empty house tonight; two cases of food
poisoning—when different species learned to stop trying other species’ native
foods, McCoy suspected he’d be out of a job—one broken arm and one risky
pregnancy. His staff had everything in hand, which he almost wished, for once,
wasn’t the case. He could use something to delay his self-appointed task. But,
no. Sickbay was quiet and his nurses were efficiently buzzing about. Chapel
nodded to him and he smiled goodnight, not wanting to disturb anyone.
Up to Top
From Standing Down by Addison Reed
Unspoken words slammed against the side of his skull, threatening to split it
open in their need to escape and be heard. It was too late for that. The press
conference was over, the holovid lights shut down and the recorders packed away.
He shook his head in denial of the shame and guilt that threatened to consume
him. He’d behaved like a frazzled cadet facing his first review. There was an
unaccustomed sense of weakness and ineptitude emanating from him, its stench
clogging his throat and stinging his nostrils. He tried to shake off the feeling
as he stepped from the light drizzle into the aircar parked in the slot marked
for Captain James T. Kirk. He closed the hatch and pushed the throttle forward
to maximum, entering the busy civilian airlanes without even considering what he
was doing. A rapid, high-pitched alarm warned him he’d narrowly missed a metro
shuttle.
“Shit!” He ran one hand absently through his hair as he reduced speed, looking
around to get his bearings and realizing he wasn’t even aware he’d pulled into
traffic. He tried to shake off the smothering sense of failure. The press
conference had started as they all started, with inane questions about the
retirement plans of the senior Enterprise crew. It was old news that they were
due to stand down in three months, which was probably why the interrogation had
taken such an unexpected turn. He’d never liked being queried about David—it
always left him defensive and angry. What had made the reporter turn on him? His
emotional state, or just his evasive answers? Was he shaking off the inquiry as
unacceptable because the answers would open a door he didn’t want to go through?
The story was no doubt directed at a human-interest audience with nothing better
to do than stand in judgment of another’s shortcomings.
“When did your son begin to show an interest in the sciences, Captain Kirk?”
The equally simple answer left him as stunned as if he’d been slapped in the
face.
“I don’t know.”
Simple truth, but oh, how it hurt when the words left his lips. A father would
have known the answer to that and a million other unimportant details of how an
innocent child had grown into an accomplished scientist. He didn’t know when
David Marcus—Marcus, not Kirk—had begun to show an aptitude for research. Didn’t
know if he’d played sports in school or if he’d been a bookworm like his father.
Had no idea if he’d ever had a broken bone or who his friends were.
He knew precisely when control tipped away from him and into the hands of the
press, but he was helpless to alter it. He couldn’t remember all the allegations
flung at him about the Klingons, he was too involved with the strange, dark
serpent twisting deep inside him, but the man had the gall to tell Kirk he
understood the kind of anger he felt.
No. You don’t.
It wasn’t just this last indignity, he finally admitted. Images from the day
tumbled through his head: Starfleet’s newfound indifference to him, the
reporters, rumblings about the Klingons that were silenced when he came near.
Suddenly there was so much he didn’t know. Spock. He reached down deep for the
strength to fight off the unaccustomed anxiety. He didn’t know where Spock was.
Didn’t know what he was doing, if he was in danger or when he would come home.
He swung into a lane designated for slower traffic as he approached the
townhouse he’d shared with the Vulcan since just after the V’ger crisis. The
interviewer’s words battered at him again. What right did they have asking why
Spock wasn’t with him? Where did they get off prying about whether the two of
them had plans for the upcoming retired officers’ banquet? His personal life was
his own business, for God’s sake.
And Starfleet seemed to have lost its collective senses as well. What were they
thinking, forming committee after committee full of children who knew nothing of
what they might face when they went on their first deep space mission? If they
ever made it to their first real mission. HeBron was nothing but a glorified
wedding planner—the closest thing to an alien encounter she’d had was with the
Argelian chef at the last cadet awards banquet—and now she was in charge of the
contact preparation team. It was inevitable, he supposed, when people with
actual experience were standing down from active duty right and left under the
new master plan for the fleet. Being brushed off like an offending gnat when
he’d offered to meet with HeBron and her team hadn’t helped either. Why was he
pissed off about it—he chastised himself not for the first time—he was stepping
down. He wasn’t interested in what happened at Starfleet anymore, was he?
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From Going Through the
Motions by Anne Elliot
Although he sometimes complained that Starfleet was being invaded by management
consultants, Kirk was not entirely unhappy that he had been ordered to attend
another command seminar. As this session was focussed on the effective operation
of established command teams, it would give him a whole nine days off the ship
with Spock and, as an added bonus—if one were needed—the communications blackout
for the duration of the course might even mean they would get away from the
never-ending discussions about their wedding.
Well, he always thought of it as a wedding. Despite the fact that he had once
translated Koon-ut-kal-if-fee as “the place of marriage or challenge,” Spock
adamantly insisted that Vulcans did not marry, they bonded, and the ceremony was
a formal recognition and completion of an existing bond.
Kirk had listened to this without comment, refraining from pointing out that if
it looked like a duck, walked like a duck and quacked like a duck, it most
definitely was a—wedding. After all, there was to be a ceremony in front of
friends and family, there were vows, there was some sort of party afterwards,
and there was a honeymoon. The fact that in many cases the ceremony took place
when one of the parties was in the early stages of pon farr and the honeymoon
was a biological necessity rather than a pleasant holiday was, as far as Kirk
was concerned, neither here nor there.
Kirk had realised very rapidly that getting married to a Vulcan was not as
simple as it might sound—but then nothing about Vulcans was ever as simple as it
sounded. It had soon become very clear that Kirk wasn’t just taking on Spock,
but also an enormous clan committed to several millennia of tradition and arcane
ritual, all of which had to be followed exactly. Kirk wasn’t at all surprised to
hear that most of the rituals had come down from the time of the beginning—they
seemed to be taking aeons to organise.
Not that the Vulcans were the only ones with arcane ritual, of course. Amanda
seemed to be slipping in quite a few western-tradition Terran ones as well. Take
wedding rings, for instance. They were definitely not a Vulcan tradition and
Kirk had absolutely no recollection of having agreed to wear one, but it seemed
that he was going to. He thought he had finally settled on a plain gold band but
he couldn’t be entirely sure. He had rather lost the plot, not to mention his
patience, halfway through the fourth catalogue. Oh, well, no doubt it would be a
nice surprise on the day.
The amount of organisation involved in the binding together of two beings was,
frankly, astonishing and it had quite taken over their lives. No sooner did they
have a few moments alone together than Spock would say in a tone Kirk had come
to recognise and dread, “Jim, I need to talk to you about something.”
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From Zines: The Time of the Beginning: 1976-1985 by Carolyn Spencer
Back in the days of the mist-shrouded past, back when the local Xerox was a
hand-cranked mimeo machine, back before internet communication was even a gleam
in a dreamer’s eye, a woman pressed a handful of typed pages into another
woman’s hand, leaned close, and whispered, “Check out the scene on page 34.” In
fact, I have no doubt that lady caveperson Oga once fantasized about those two
dashing and divinely handsome dudes Grog and Phlog doing it down and dirty in a
dark hidden corner of the cave. Why think of just one gorgeous man when you can
think of two? And “slash” was born.
Slash denotes a written or drawn sexual relationship primarily, but not
exclusively, between two men. It is written primarily, but not exclusively, by
and for women, the majority of whom are heterosexual. The men in these stories
are recognizable media heroes with a plethora of admirable traits, usually
larger than life, and certainly capable of the intimacy most women want in their
own relationships. Today there are many slash fandoms available to readers. You
can thrill to Bodie and Doyle getting it on, feel your heart palpitate along
with Starsky and Hutch, or even pant along with Frodo and Sam. Well…different
strokes for different folks, as we used to say. Good slash does far more than
titillate, far more than serve prurient purposes, however. It is also about how
we relate to each other; it’s about emotion and closeness and acceptance and the
redeeming power of love. It was all there from the beginning. The best slash
fandom was also the first slash fandom. Let me tell you about K/S.
K/S, shorthand for a sexual relationship between Captain James T. Kirk and his
half-human science officer Spock, has been explored in over five hundred
fanzines (short for fan magazines) to date. But before K/S existed at least in
written form, there was K & S, stories of their relationship as friends and
fellow officers in what are called “gen” zines, or zines suitable for reading by
a general audience. These are mostly action-adventure stories, many of which
rely heavily on hurt/comfort to drive the plot. Kirk is wounded on a mission,
and Spock needs to care for him under terribly dangerous circumstances proving
his loyalty and love for his captain…or vice versa. Two men from different
worlds, different cultures, become as close as brothers. These stories first
appeared in the late sixties and were included in anthology zines such as
Tricorder Readings, Interphase and Stardate: Unknown from the early ‘70s. And
Contact, perhaps the most influential of all K & S relationship zines. [See the
article in this volume of Legacy for more information about the birth of Contact
from Nancy Kippax, one of the zine’s editors.]
Although Gerry Downes’ Alternative: the Epilog to Orion is the first-stand alone
K/S zine ever published (1976), fans had noticed and imagined that a more
intimate relationship existed between James T. Kirk and Spock of Vulcan almost
from the very first aired episode of Star Trek. It certainly wasn’t long before
K/S stories were being written, mimeoed and quietly passed around from hand to
hand. Very quietly.
Up to Top
From Art: Dribbling
Scribbling Women by Liz
When K/S fans were compared to “scribbling women,” Constance Penley was talking
about our fan fiction, but we have also been busy scribbling away with pencils,
pens and paints to create some beautiful pictures of Kirk and Spock. Over the
past thirty years of K/S fandom we have produced an incredible amount of art. I
have no idea exactly how much, but from 1976 to 1998 we drew at least 1,661
pictures. This is the amazing total of drawings recorded, catalogued and
analyzed by my dedicated data handling team! Chief of my cataloguers is the
amazing Linda W.—without whose patience in sifting through zines and detailing
each and every picture this project would never have been possible. Linda, let
me take this opportunity to publicly salute you, you had by far the hardest part
of this job.
The history of our art is as long and as fascinating as that of our zines, and
it amazes me how little we actually know about it, despite the awe in which we
K/S fans hold our best artists and the staggering prices we have been known to
pay for the art itself. You don’t need to be a K/S fan for long before you know
who Gayle F. is, and you don’t go to a K/S art auction without coming away
amazed at the passion we clearly have for pictorial representations of our
favourite duo. It seems to me that we have always been as interested in drawing
Kirk and Spock as writing about them. Indeed, the first ever piece of K/S art
was published alongside the first ever K/S story (“A Fragment Out of Time”
published in Grup 3 in 1974). This picture was drawn by Diane Merchant, the
author of the story, and here it is.
Interestingly, the story itself is slightly ambiguous about the identities of
the two people involved, however, given the picture there can have been no doubt
they were Kirk and Spock. If we take the first K/S zine, as opposed to the first
story, as the beginning of K/S, then the link between fiction and illustration
is just as close. The first K/S zine, Alternative: Epilog to Orion, published in
1976, included what must have been stunningly suggestive artwork showing that we
were never shy about drawing Kirk and Spock together. These pictures were either
drawn by the editor Gerry Downes or they were un-credited. Here is one of the
more erotic pictures.
From Letterzines: The Sound and the Fury: Early Lettercols and Letterzines
compiled by K.S. Langley
The debate over K/S raged furiously through the seventies, and it spilled over
into letter columns in zines and in letterzines. In this article, that debate is
traced through several early Star Trek publications: Halkan Council, Implosion,
Warped Space, Obsc’zine, Menagerie, R&R, Enterprise Incidents, and Trekism at
Length. Excerpts are quoted in part, not in whole; they are not reproduced in
their entirety. They are not copyedited; they stand as written. Notes from the
author or editor are in brackets [ ].
HALKAN COUNCIL began publication 12/1/74 and ended with #26/27 on 9/1/77.
It was
edited by Shirley H. and Sandy Y.
HALKAN COUNCIL #12—November 1, 1975
In a review of GRUP IV by C. F:
“Diane Marchant wrote an article on the Kirk/Spock homosexual love affair
premise that’s been buzzing around fannish conversations for at least a year.
The idea is an interesting permutation, but Diane’s argument fails to convince
because she failed to document her evidence thoroughly, and there’s a tone of
‘dirty old broad getting her rocks off, heh heh’ that distracts from the
argument and debases the premise.”
HALKAN COUNCIL #13—December 1, 1975
LoC from the late Gerry Downes stated:
“Re: the possible homosexual involvement in the Kirk/Spock relationship…one of
the nicest things in ST was its portrayal of a love relationship between two men
without implying that they were gay. Make no mistake about it, friends, these
two men love each other, and also make no mistake, their feelings do not find
expression in sex.”
HALKAN COUNCIL #20/21—August 1, 1976
Gerry Downes revisited the topic:
“This is in response to 1) Jean L.’s question (HC #17) why is it that women
write about close relationships between men instead of women, 2) Nancy K.’s
question what if Spock went into pon farr and no one was near but Jim Kirk (HC
#17), and 3) Lisa W.’s question (HC #18) what if ‘Amok Time’ and ‘Turnabout
Intruder’ occurred simultaneously…. Spock is vulnerable in pon farr, but he is
intensely masculine at this time. And Jim Kirk is a dynamic male figure all the
time. Does this make for an unresolvable conflict? There are a lot of
underground stories circulating right now (even in Alaska I’ve seen some!)
attempting to deal with this question. They usually involve a near-rape
situation for Jim Kirk and his either forgiving Spock and forgetting about it,
or his wanting to continue the relationship…. In ‘Turnabout Intruder,’ Jim’s
identity is transferred to a female body. Yet at no time does Spock step out of
his supportive subordinate role. He is used to relating to Jim as a male figure,
and he continues to do so even in this situation. In speculating about pon farr
in this connection, the question Lisa W. is really asking is “is it necessary
for Jim to be female for Spock to want him?” and I believe the answer to this is
NO. Spock already loves Jim and switching roles wasn’t necessary for this to
develop…. In our explorations of these two characters we have allowed them to
grow beyond what we saw on television. An author always puts himself into his
work, yet if we project our sex-role stereotypes onto these two men, we are not
seeing the situation as Kirk and Spock would handle it, but as twentieth-century
females would handle it. Perhaps we ought to speculate along these lines with a
bit more care and try to understand how Jim and Spock really feel instead of
simply putting ourselves inside them.
[At the end of this LoC Gerry announced that she was doing a zine on the subject
herself—Alternative: The Epilog To Orion.]
In this same issue, B. C. quoted from C.S. Lewis’ essay on friendship, “The Four
Loves”:
“To say that every Friendship is consciously and explicitly homosexual would be
too obviously false; the wiseacres take refuge in the less palpable charge that
it is really—unconsciously, cryptically, in some Pickwickian sense—homosexual.
And this, though it cannot be proved, can never of course be refuted…The very
lack of evidence is thus treated as evidence: the absence of smoke proves that
the fire is very carefully hidden. Yes—if it exists at all. But we must first
prove its existence…Those who cannot conceive Friendship as a substantive love
but only as a disguise or elaboration of Eros betray the fact that they have
never had a Friend.”
She went on to state: “I should say that I am not opposed to the speculation on
possible homosexuality within Kirk and Spock’s relationship, just that it’s
sheer speculation, because there is no evidence that they have anything but a
friendship, albeit a very deep one…“
Up to Top
From The
Internet: The Source of the Mississippi by Lyrastar
What was the first Kirk/Spock fiction to be published online? Like the quest for
the source of the Mississippi, there are a couple different possible answers
depending upon one’s view. Your humble Internet associate editor would vote for
“A Job for the Young,” which was chronologically first.
On January 24, 1995, a member of the Usenet newsgroup alt.sex.fetish.startrek
announced that she had found a Kirk/Spock story—the first she had ever seen—somewhere
in the public access files of a server, but couldn’t remember the details of
where, or who the author was. With apologies for not being able to give proper
credit, she copied it and sent it out to the group, which up until then had been
largely focused on The Next Generation.
That story was “A Job for the Young.” Although a bit roughly put together, it is
fairly classic K/S with Kirk saving Spock from pon farr, Spock saving Kirk from
other perils, an intense sex scene, and an up-beat ending. It is still available
to read in the same way it met the public eye in early 1995 at
This link at Adult.Sex.Fetish.Startrek. But questions as to its origin, as well as the intentions of the author in
leaving it uploaded but (apparently) unannounced, muddy the waters and discount
it in some people’s opinions.
Next up for consideration as first is the short and humorous “Trompe L’Oeil” by
Susan Leg/Legge a.k.a UK Jess, posted to alt.startrek.creative on August 19,
1995. The catch here is that although written with the intent of appealing to
K/S minded readers, the tease referred to in the title is that in final content,
it doesn’t end up being a K/S story at all! Phooey! Apparently it worked as K/S
for a significant chunk of the readership, though, for despite its face-value
innocence, it was placed in the adult directory for its racy innuendo. The
original post has been taken down, but the story lives on at the K/S archive.
Says Jess, a K/Ser at heart who had previously published K&S gen in zines, “It
was just a daft idea I had in the bath, and I wanted to share it.”
The story which is generally thought of as having started the rush of K/S online
is “Turning Point” by Killashandra, or Killa as she has now come to be known,
initially published one chapter at a time in late 1995 on
alt.sex.fetish.startrek and completed in January 1996, making it the third piece
to be presented as K/S to online readers, but without the caveats of the other
two contenders for first.
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