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THE MORNING MOON - Wheaton Buckly

Light cut through the tattered lace curtains a warm rush glow that let them know the alienness of the world at a glance, and coloring everything it touched with filigreed fingers.

"Spock?" The single word spoken by a familiar voice brought the Vulcan back.

THE JAWS OF NIGHT - Kathy Tipton

"You bastard. You tight-assed hypocrite! How dare you . . . tease me like this and then . . .

refuse."

CRYSTAL WALL - Kathy Tipton

Spock pulled his captain from the chamber, crunching bootsteps further shattering the broken pieces of the crystal wall that lay strewn over the rough floor. He shook his head . . . .

STAR GOD - Carol Turner

The sound fell about the lean youth like an exploding volcano, deafening his sensitive hearing, chattering through the very bones of his body. And when flame and smoke billowed up from the abused ground, carving a depression with its biting tongue, practicality overcame curiosity and he fled. Stumbling over rocks and plants, driven by fear, he dove behind a boulder for cover. But as quickly as he landed, he rolled over and was instantly peering around the temporary shelter; inquisitiveness won over survival. He had to know about the fiery demon from the sky.

THE COLOR GREEN - Carol Turner

He waits for me. Now. In his cabin. Sitting, hands at his side, feet firmly on the floor and eyes, those piercing green orbs that know where every secret hides waiting to cut to the very marrow of my soul.

Why does this damned empire suck the soul from us all?

DEAR DEVIL - Susan Delon

No one could stand to look at him he was so different. I mean, so short! At least five frulas less than our shortest woman. And when he told us he was male, well, what else is there to say? Short and a male. That awful thought says it all. How very alien.

BESIDE MYSELF III - Robin Hood

"There!" Kirk cried out, stepping forward toward the raised dias, his blood pressure tripling in that long nano-second. His hopes were rewarded, for by the time he reached the first step, his best friend and first officer had coalesced on the shiny floor in all his elegant stature.

"Spock!" he called softly, stepping up one step, and leaning forward. The one word spoke volumes: hopes, fear, friendship and more . . . so much more left unsaid. And he expected a reaction but not the one he received.

COVERS

ART

1992