Anya Goes AWOL
Anya had free rein of the ship and she wanted to explore. Jonal and Tonas were in conference in the StarRoom, Tigger was AWOL, and the only other person she knew on board, Mark, was in there with them. It was time to boldly go where blah blah. An apt metaphor, she thought. The fleet ships were refitted with universal signs adapted from commons Earth usage. Unused to free time and having little responsibility, she studied the symbols. Assured she could find her way around without a problem, Anya left the Quarters. As the command Star Cruiser of the both the Galactic and Sarran fleet, Brightstar was the size of a micropolitan city of 50,000, stuffed into two square miles of sardine can. The corridors reeked of art deco canoodling one of the French Louies, ornate and pre-fabbed. As Anya roamed, men gawked, but none approached her until she hit a corridor near the mess hall.
She had presumed that the mess was quiet this time of day, just after breakfast but not quite time for lunch. She knew she was close by when a whiff of fresh brewed Jamaican Blue Mountain titillated her nose. A quick reverse to backtrack engaged Anya in a near on collision with a Sarran male. She pushed up against the sidewall to stabilize her position, leaving handprints on the calendared crenellations. Looking up, she targeted a face, and that triggered a connection. “Hey,” she called, “Aren't you Mark's Bane?”
“No, I'm Flagen,” he retorted, “I belong to no Warrior. I’m Bane's brother, his twin.” If anger were solar flares, his eyes shot power outages. She stepped back. Flagen’s lips distorted into a perversion of a smile and he herded her toward the java scent, riding her heel. Anya wasn't cowed, but could distinguish between retreat and surrender. She chose the former and crooked her back to avoid contact with his shoulder. For an instant, Anya took solace in the surety that her mates were but a focus away.
“Where are you taking me?” Anya demanded.
“You wanted coffee.” He challenged, "That is one aroma that every Earthen I've seen can follow straight to source. Without it you all have the look of a stomped bronc in a hails-out.”
They entered a hall and Anya froze and gaped. She had seen pictures old automats but this was a Horn and Hardart on steroids. Disks heaped with obscure vegetation and Sarran viands, sat amid Mickey D's, shrimp etouffee and egg foo yung, each encased in cubicles of gold and glass. It appeared the Washington sycophants had donated sundry take out menus and a dated set of Time-Life cookbooks to re-assemble Earthen cuisine for the women. The result was a mishmash of the freaky and the mundane, combinations guaranteed to be barfers. She snickered and wondered what Stern's comments were on bureaucratic creativity.
“Really,” She cocked her head. “With this selection, coffee's the only sane alternative.” I must remember to speak to the boys, she thought. She cased the hall spying a spigot attached to a massive urn that appeared broad and rowdy enough to encase industrial waste, it looked about right. "This is the coffee?" she noted with Flagen still on her heels. She grabbed a large size tumbler of heatproof plasticine and pulled the lever. Levers seemed to transcend culture. Basic humanoid mechanics endured, a snuggly thought. She looked to the left, Hello little pink packets, and cream. She quickly prepared a cup and sipped.
Flagen's face morphed from impersonation of a serial killer to merely grim. “Your face is incandescent. This coffee, is a drug?"
“Some believe it is. I prefer the word nectar myself.” Anya laughed, “Stomped bronc, huh, present company included?”
“That requires some consideration. Do you go out in a hails-out sans a slicker or gear?”
He actually cracked a smile. “I've been known to channel a submersed rat, or two.”
“Is that a drowned rat or a ‘You dirty, rat?’ My translator does not pick up the elegance of your slang.”
“But mine picks up the sting of your bite, or perhaps the goad of your prick.” Anya countered. “Do you shroud all your enmity in wit?”
“Enmity? Why would you say that?”
“You seem to bristle at all things Earthen.”
“Maybe it's but a penchant for things Sarran.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “What was it like?”
“Mountains, valleys, desert, much like your Earth; but clean. Our sins against our cradle, long passed. Tierest trees, brumble bush.” Flagen stopped. Anya watched him take a breath, “Paradise, home, as one of your poets cried, Nevermore.” He shifted his eyes from her sight.
Anya impulsively reached for his hand, patted it awkwardly then withdrew. “Yesterday is always Nevermore, Flagen.”
He scrutinized her face and seemed to discover a fabled swan rather than the troll he anticipated. “You Bond the Prince of Light, little ember?” Flagen asked in an eerily tender tone.
“He and Jonal, when the deed is ever done,” Anya replied in honesty.
“Do you have distaste, for the LightClan Prince?”
“No,” she asserted. "He's magnificent, both gentle and kind. I'm in love with the galoot, and Jonal is ..."
"Jonal is Jonal," Flagen finished her sentence for her, although Anya wasn't sure that his interpretation resembled hers. “Maybe I will taste this coffee of yours while you tend to your second helping.” Flagen’s face was preternatural. His meter had jumped from violation to free game score faster than light speed. He was volatile and it turned her shaky. Flagen did mood alterations as often as starlets did body mods and with as little purpose. It was time for a graceful and quick exit line. She looked around for a fast and dirty excuse and seized on...deliverance.
“Mark, over here. I've just met your...brother-in-law?” Anya reached for the right term.
“Flagen.” Mark said his name with such crack and sizzle that Anya had to check for steam with his spit. Mark had not wowed the in-laws.
“We were discussing Sarran and ca... co.. coffee.” Darn, she hated when she stuttered and Mark knew she only did it when her nerves were fried.
“I believe your Bonded are calling security.” Mark gently took her arm and eased her away from Flagen.
“Security? What is it with these guys? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, haven't you told them that on Earth we had a women's movement. Sensitivity training is in order, and they need classes on gender issues. Geez Mark, can't I ever get out of there?” Anya grumbled. “Most likely the cat threw up again. They keep on feeding him strange stuff.” She sighed once more, for effect, and scrambled to the corridor. I am sooooooo gone, out out out. Though I might have overplayed that one a tiny bit. She made her way back to Quarters.
Mark watched Anya scurry through the arched entrance. It looked as if that nice little tail had been a bit singed. He decided to go back and find out what had yanked Flagen’s chain this time. “Slumming, Flagen? Xenophobia in lock down?” Mark's eyebrow rose in a suggestion of derision.
Flagen gave a classic Gallic shrug. Mark marveled at the interchangeable body language exhibited by both Sarran and Earthen. He was sure research would someday prove a commons genetic source. He scowled at his brother-in-Bond, permitting his fury to manifest on his face. “If this is a jealous tantrum, you are engaged in a duel without a saber. Alligators look indolent in the sun, but they have teeth. They don't eat often, but when they do, they swallow you whole.”
The Sarran Plague is available in electronic format from Eternal Press in electronic format and in print from Amazon.com. For more about the Sarrans visit my website, ackatt.com or my blog, theSarrans.blogspot.com. Additional snippets are in a special blog at ackattsnips.blogspot.com. If you are interested in my daily doings, pet peeves, my political soapbox and other matters, check out ACKattsJournal.blogspot.com.
The Sarran Plague Reviews
From Romance Junkies
By noelle
Blue Ribbon Rating - Four
THE SARRAN PLAGUE was very interesting, and very well written. The story was enthralling from the very first page, and you could really feel the love and devotion between Tonas, Jonal, and Anya. Ms. Katt has created a very convincing alternate universe, and has done an excellent job of painting a picture for the reader. All in all, this was a very good book, and I look forward to reading more from this author.
From AllBooks Reviews
by Peter (Pete) Klein
Twenty-six-year-old pediatric resident, Anya Forrest, recovering from the plague and on a space ship headed for the planet Sarran, finds herself strongly attracted to two very masculine aliens named Jonal and Tonas. Her lust for both men is not dampened, though she is confused when she learns the two men are BondMates, lovers, and their desire for her is equally shared.
Anya learns this is not unusual n the planet Sarran where the standard marriage is what they call a Triad, the union of two men with one woman!
To the sexual complications is added a small group of traitors who seek to destroy the mission by having the alien source of the plague, the Zyptz, attack the ship and kill all onboard. The Zyptz are uglier than the Sarrans are magnificently attractive, and I’m sure you will laugh when near the end of the story you learn what they resemble from planet Earth.
I found this to be a fun read. The author writes well and has a style that keeps the action flowing to the ending…
Highly Recommended. Reviewer: Peter “Pete” Klein, Allbooks Reviews.
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