Constellations by Marco Palmieri

bad situation.” He reached into his robe and withdrew a small pouch and offered it to her. “A parting gift, I suppose. It’s not much, but you might be able to do some good with it.” She saw tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled her close, his voice trembling as he planted a soft kiss on her weathered forehead. “Take care of yourself, Revati.”
    Jendra stepped back from the shuttlecraft as McCoy climbed aboard, turning to wave once more to her before the hatch was closed. A moment later, she felt the rush of wind whipping her clothes and her hair as the vessel’s thrusters lifted it into the air and pushed it into the slowly brightening sky.
    As the echo of the departing shuttle’s engines faded, Jendra looked down at the pouch in her hand and opened its protective flap, only to find several vials of tablets. The labels on the vials identified the medicine as the hyronalin derivative she had lacked for these many weeks. While the medication would not reverse her condition, it certainly would allow her much more time among the Grennai than she might have hoped for.
    Given the extra time, she might even find a substitute remedy, she decided.
    Clutching the medication to her chest, Revati Jendra closed her eyes and offered silent thanks for the fortune that had been visited upon her.
    Leonard, my friend, your captain is hardly the only giver of second chances.

The Landing Party
    Robert Greenberger
    Robert Greenberger
    In 1968 he snuck downstairs and saw his father watching a TV show where three colorful people were disappearing into thin air. That was his first glimpse of Star Trek, and it must have made an indelible impression because he has written about or for the series ever since. Articles for the school newspaper led to fanzine articles, and from there he wound up editing the Star Trek comic book for DC Comics. He began writing for the Star Trek fiction line in 1990 with the first of several collaborations. Since then, he has written four solo novels and a handful of short stories.
    Additionally, Bob has worked in the comic book business, logging twenty years with DC Comics and one year with Marvel. His various titles included Senior Editor and Director–Publishing Operations.
    He has written some original short fiction and over a dozen young adult nonfiction books on a wide variety of subjects.
    A lifelong New York Mets fan, he currently makes his home in Connecticut with his wife, Deb. His daughter, Kate, has fled home for Washington, D.C., and his son, Robbie, is attending college clear across the state. Learn more at www.bobgreenberger.com.
    Kirk wasn’t sure what they called the device in McCoy’s hand, but it seemed to be doing the job, quickly sealing closed the wound on Sulu’s left shoulder. The lieutenant, lying limp on the diagnostic bed, barely twitched in reaction to the device’s softly humming activity. Anxiously, Kirk stole glances at the monitor above the bed, reassuring himself the helmsman’s condition was as stable as the deep thump of the heart monitor suggested. He’d been standing in place for several minutes, watching in silence, knowing he needed to let the doctor do his job without interruption. For an idle moment, he was impressed by how quickly his new chief medical officer had stepped into the role. McCoy was older than Kirk, but not as old as Mark Piper, who was about to retire and had rotated off the Enterprise just weeks before.
    He’d been in command just over a year and still felt everyone was treating him like he was fresh out of the Academy. Surrounding himself with the older medic and even his first officer, Spock, made him self-conscious of his youth, which he had always seen as an advantage. Turning his attention back to Sulu, Kirk reminded himself that the lieutenant’s youth and strength were likewise assets at this critical time.
    McCoy accepted another device from Nurse Chapel, and the captain remained