Janet Toner (Jamelia) is a fanfic author who is very grateful to Voyager and to Paris and Torres because they inspired her to begin writing again after a 25 year hiatus. To learn more about her, visit her biography page at: Jamelia116's Home Page

Sex Trek

by Janet Amelia Toner
(reprinted with permission)

In the beginning, there was Kirk. James Tiberius Kirk. A.K.A. James "Tomcat" Kirk to my college friends. We actually planned our weekend activities so that if it were possible to catch Star Trek on NBC we would, even when it was stupidly stuck on a Friday night. More than a few dates began after we had our quota of watching Kirk, Spock and McCoy. Star Trek was beloved by the group I hung out with, and even if the ratings overall weren't that great, I can attest to the popularity of the show among the young males who have always been so hard for advertisers to reach. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, Chapel. The multi-racial, multi-species, multi-gender crew gave us all hope that there would be a future, not a given during that very unstable time.

For those of us who had discovered science fiction in the form of Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, et. al. early in life, like me, Star Trek was an amazing achievement. Yes, all the trappings of space travel were there: faster than light travel; aliens; instantaneous (or at least, apparently instantaneous) "subspace" communications; stories that examined human ethics and morality, safely cloaked by the time/space factor; strange new worlds--and some very interesting character relationships.

The interplay of the relationships tied the Enterprise crew to our own existence in the contemporary world. It was the pathway for the "willing suspension of disbelief." This principal is one of the most important tenets of all fiction, really, but especially for fantasy and science fiction. We, the viewers/readers, will accept the most outlandish plot points or scientific explanation as long as it is done plausibly enough. And from the very beginning, even in that original pilot that we didn't see until mid-season when "The Cage" was spliced into the two part episode, "The Menagerie," sex was right up front as part of the relationship mix.

It was the Sixties. Free love was in vogue, even though there were some of us, even then, who had a hunch it wasn't really as "free" as it was cracked up to be. In the movies, things were starting to get really hot. Television began to reflect that, and nowhere was that more in evidence than on Star Trek.

It is not true that Kirk made it with a female guest star every week. It was clear from the gleam in his eye, however, that he always entertained the possibility. That "Tomcat" nickname my friends and I dubbed him with was definitely deserved. Spock, McCoy, and even Scotty got into the act upon occasion, but Kirk was the one who usually got the action. I'm not sure whether I really mind, actually, now that I think back on it. After all, the guy's one true love was his ship.

The whole "slash" fiction thing originally came to be because there were never enough female regulars to go around to satisfy the fan fiction writers with romance in their hearts. Mary Sue's get tiring after a while. Kirk/Spock was never really the primary romantic relationship on the show, although it was definitely an easier pairing for those who longed to write love scenes than the true, natural Kirk/___ pairing. Writing Kirk/Enterprise fiction would have cramped the writer's styles. I mean, seriously, how do you write a love scene with a starship?

"My beautiful, beautiful ship," Kirk breathed, stroking her firm, shapely nacelles. Let me make love to you until your warp core overheats..."

Gotta tell you. Does nothing for me. Kirk's roaming eye was a lot easier to accept because he was Sacrificing His Personal Life for "My Ship, My Crew."

The costume department increased the steaminess factor. Kirk managed to have his costume stripped off his upper body as often as the producers could find an excuse. Those little minis and boots on Uhura and the other women of the crew may look laughable now, but while they have drawn much comment from those who did not live through the Sixties, I have to admit that I knew lots of coeds (and how's that for a nostalgic term?) who wore outfits that covered about the same amount of tush.

The guest stars were the ones that wore the really wild costumes, however. Leslie Parrish's Lt. Palamas had a strategically arranged toga in "Who Mourns for Adonis" that must have been held on with spit and a prayer. Louise Sorel as Rayna in "Requiem for Methuselah," Sharon Acker as Odona in "The Mark of Gideon," Kathie Browne as Deela in "The Wink of an Eye"--the list of female guest stars who wore gravity-defying costumes could go on and on. Every now and then Gene Roddenberry would throw in an episode like "The Apple," in which a bunch of men pranced around with only the most strategic parts of their bodies covered, for the pleasure and edification of the female viewing audience. For the most part, however, in episode after episode, the female form was revealed as much as the network censors would allow.

While it is easy to make fun of it now, I can't say it really bothered me all that much at the time. The costumes were creative. Despite, or maybe because of, the outlandishness of our everyday Sixties wardrobe, they usually worked well as "alien" garb.

Those overheated costumes and Kirk and Company's forays into the sack with people they hardly knew and were never going to see again were legendary, but let us see which segments of the show have stood the test of time, to be counted among the top episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS, hereafter, for reasons that are undoubtedly obvious to anyone reading this). Among those that seem to appear over and over again on fan "top ten" lists are "The Trouble with Tribbles," a delightful bit of fluff; "The Doomsday Machine," with an excellent and gripping science fiction premise; "The Devil in the Dark," the story of a foster mother protecting her brood from brutish murderers (as it turned out, insensitive humans were the murderers); "Journey to Babel," squabbles among the diplomatic corps as well as between father and son, and "Amok Time." Only this last had anything hot and sweaty in it, and that was Kirk and Spock fighting in the original "resolving the pon farr" episode (more slash inspiration). Oh, and a couple of "relationship" episodes usually show up, too: "This Side of Paradise" and "The City on the Edge of Forever," the episode that generally heads the list of "best" or "favorite" TOS episodes of all time.

What these two episodes have in common are believable romantic relationships that end unhappily, standard series fare then as well as now. Both, however, were well executed. In "This Side of Paradise" the supposedly unemotional Spock is able, for a brief time, to allow his romantic feelings for Leila Kalomi to show, thanks to some helpful spores. Because the spores ruin "ambition," however, they cannot be allowed to work their magic on the colonists or Enterprise crew. Giving In to Love, apparently, would mean the end of Federation Civilization As We Know It.

At least poor Jill Ireland's Leila got to live. Not so Joan Collins' Edith Keeler, a beloved character in Trek even though she only appeared once. Because she was right about world peace at the wrong point in history, Edith had to die. There aren't many scenes in all of television, not just on Trek, more heartbreaking than the climax of "City at the Edge of Forever." Kirk must hold back McCoy from saving the life of the woman the captain has grown to love. While McCoy rants about how he could have saved her, Spock quietly comments, "He knows, Doctor. He knows."

Of course, we know the real reason Edith Keeler had to die. Couldn't have anyone coming between Kirk and the next casual love affair, could we?

After three years of episodes, the last year due in no small measure to Bjo Trimble and others who activated a letter-writing campaign to keep the show on the air, TOS went to that great series graveyard in the sky.

And then, a miracle. The show became more popular in syndication than it had on the network. A pulse could again be detected. George Lucas' Star Wars erupts, and Paramount realizes that it has an exploitable resource that mines the same general territory. Movies are made.

During the course of those movies, we discover that Captain Kirk managed to find the time to reproduce at least once after all. (Considering his sexual history, there may be many Kirk descendants exploring the Alpha Quadrant in the twenty-fourth century, but not from David Marcus, since David was killed off in The Search for Spock.) Spock experienced pon farr again. The rumor is that Lt. Saavik was to have stayed on Vulcan at the beginning of The Voyage Home to bear Spock's child, but the producers got cold feet and left it out of the movie.

But, the movies made big money. The Franchise was born.     --> onto the next page...

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