Sacrifice to the Stars

  Tia's life has been defined by avoiding the priesthood, so when she finds herself on a foreign world with seductively familiar males, she is conflicted. General Jenner Mathwin is striking and his voice sends her body into a full-on riot. Can she trust him when it comes to offering her for sacrifice or will the Lassing priesthood tear her to pieces? She really hopes that her trust is earned because when she offers herself to the star's avatar, she will be tied hand and foot in a public forum. It may be a little late to change her mind once they bind her…

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  Sacrifice to the Stars

  Copyright 2011 Viola Grace

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-762-1

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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  Sacrifice to the Stars

  The Hashka Chronicles Book 1

  By

  Viola Grace

  Dedication

  To Janet, a stellar editor. You know what you do.

  Chapter One

  The flaring lights and panicked beeping of the shuttle caused Oritia to scramble at the controls. "Computer, identify the problem with the shuttle."

  The crisp voice answered her, "Meteor strike has disabled left engine. A course has been plotted to the nearest planet with habitable atmosphere."

  The beeping and lights swiftly got on her nerves. "Computer, disable the warning indicators. I acknowledge the problem. What planet are we heading for?"

  The computer paused as it sent probes to the local satellites. "Emicar IV. Colonized in 3834. Population—mixed race with seventy percent being Hashka or Hashka blends."

  Oritia groaned and flexed her hands on the controls. Her body flared happily. It was pleased with the thought of being found out.

  Her whole flight through the stars had been to get away from Hashka men. The supply of meds to suppress her mating scent was wearing thin, but she bolted some down as the com unit chirped with an incoming transmission.

  "Shuttle. This is Emicar IV spaceport. Our instruments indicate you are in distress."

  "Confirmed, Emicar IV. My shuttle will not be able to reach another port. I would like to request permission to land."

  "Shuttlecraft, with your engine damage, you will not be able to land. We are dispatching a rescue vessel from the orbital station."

  Shit! "Acknowledged. I will be prepared for a grapple."

  "Shuttlecraft, you will be extracted for safety and your shuttle hauled to the station for repair."

  "Confirmed. Awaiting contact from the orbital station. Reducing speed and gliding in."

  "Excellent. We hope to see you safe and sound, miss."

  Right, her voice had given her away. She quickly scrambled to

  her feet and raced for her luggage. With a wince, she shoved her tunics and trousers into the airlock and blew it, scattering her clothes into space. In seconds, they were far behind.

  Misrael clothing was not flattering, but it covered her from head to toe. The hood and loose drape of fabric that covered her face were uncomfortable, but until she had enough money to repair the shuttle, she would have to deal. The long, loose robes over flowing pants covered all of her skin except her hands. She rubbed the scent-deadening cream into her hands and ran an interior atmospheric check. A trace of her hormones remained, but she wasn't going to risk blowing the air out of her shuttle to erase her presence.

  Gowned, robed and covered, she stowed her suppression meds in her breast band and waited.

  The rich voice of a Hashka male rolled through the com unit while she waited. "Shuttlecraft, this is the rescue ship, Echo Star. Prepare for magnetic grapple and boarding."

  His ship was next to her in seconds. She was trembling, not with fear of the inevitable failure of the shuttle but with his approach.

  Oritia was a fugitive, but on her home world, her death was certain. She was a latent psychic and on Morvigeth that meant that when she went into heat, she was to be sacrificed to the Hashka god, Lassing. Her family helped her flee, but she knew that pursuit would be swift in coming.

  The hiss of the door being opened surprised her, but she stood and approached the man who entered.

  His dark hair was tightly braided against his head, blue-bronze skin and midnight eyes with stars burning in them captured her attention. From under her mask, she took in his terrifyingly wide shoulders clothed in a deep blue tunic with silver and black piping, tight trousers and knee-high boots. She licked her lips and then bit them as he focussed on her.

  She swallowed heavily as she noticed his nostrils flaring. He approached her, taking in her clothing. "Miss, you are alone? Your shuttle is fairly banged up."

  She cleared her throat and answered in Common. "I am. Apparently, a meteor struck me. It damaged an engine." She didn't add that it had been taken from a repair lot near her home.

  He took in her Misrael clothing and bowed formally. "Please join

  me in my craft. May I have your name?"

  "Tia Soveen." It was an abbreviation of her first name and a reversal of her last.

  "May I call you Tia?"

  "You may. I do not hold to Misrael formality here." She gestured for him to take in the interior of the shuttle.

  "Do you have personal effects?"

  She walked in front of him and heard and felt him scenting her again. "No. I was on a short hop and was struck by a small meteor shower. I thought I dodged them all, but apparently, I was mistaken."

  He laughed—a strained sound.

  Oritia smiled, her senses were dulling to his voice, the medication was working. When she was in heat, even her sense of hearing was affected. She could shake at the rich croon of any male long enough for him to scent her heat, then the chase would be on.

  Her mother procured the medication for her on the black market and it had been of use in keeping her condition from public knowledge. Her gene typing had showed the latent psychic ability when she was young, the priests had simply watched and waited until she showed signs of being in heat. When she was eighteen, the priests of Lassing had taken her to watch the sacrifice of another psychic. A young woman of nineteen years. The woman had been pierced in the wrists, ankles and a twelve-inch dagger had been thrust between her thighs, the screams of agony continued until they stabbed her in the heart. A sacrifice to Lassing.

  Oritia had vomited on the robes of the priest that brought her. He had jerked back in disgust, but let her run home. Until she was in heat, they had no right to keep her.

  A gentle hand on her arm led her out of her memories and into the seat next to the pilot's. He buckled himself in and flipped a few toggles. She gasped as she saw the shuttle float by. "My ship!"

 
"It will be retrieved and you will be able to arrange repairs if they can be made. A ship that old, I don't know if we have the parts."

  He hit the thrusters and she kept her shuttle in sight as long as she could. It had been her home for two weeks and it represented her family's dedication to her survival. Now, here she was headed for an orbital station over a planet filled with a race that followed the same god as her own. It seemed she could fall into death wherever it

  appeared.

  They approached the station and then veered toward the planet. "Where are we going?"

  "There are no accommodations suitable for you on the station. Clothing will be arranged while you wait for your ship to be assessed."

  She had no money. All of her credit slips would lead right back to her if the priests ran a scan. "Is there a way for me to earn money while I am here? I have limited means and the repairs will be expensive, I am sure."

  "Just a moment."

  He opened the com and spoke to the ground control in Hashka, "Ground control, this is the rescue vessel. I need clothing suitable for a Misrael female and can you look into getting a work permit for her?"

  "A female Misrael? Wants to work? That's a new one." The officer snickered into the com, his Hashka was not as smooth as her rescuer. "Will do. See you on the ground, General Mathwin."

  Oritia flinched when she heard his rank, but since she was supposed to be Misrael, there was no way she could have known what they said. The ground officer was correct. Under normal circumstances, no Misrael woman would stoop to working, but thanks to her friend, Vorcla, she knew that that was not always the case. Vor had offered the clothing as a last-ditch effort to avoid detection.

  Less than an hour in, it seemed to be working.

  She moved with the practiced glide that those who wore the robes demanded. Vorcla's mother had trained her in the ladylike slide of her feet on the floor and not even another Misrael would ever dare to look under the robes. The species was so secretive it was amazing they even spoke to outsiders.

  "Call me Jenner, please, Tia." General Mathwin escorted her from the ship, her hands folded in her robes. "I requested extra clothing and a job card for you. They should be ready by now."

  "It is inappropriate. What is your family name, sir?"

  He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Mathwin. I am General Mathwin of the Emicar IV Planetary Defence."

  "Thank you, General Mathwin." Holding to formality was going

  to be hard. Her life had been casual up until now.

  "A quick check in at our medical facility and we will be on our way."

  Her throat closed and she swayed. He caught her and quickly released her. "Is there a problem? It seems a stroke of luck that we are on our way to see the doctors."

  "Nothing. Just lightheaded. I haven't eaten today and with the stress, it has weakened me slightly. I will be fine." She restored her hands to her sleeves and walked with him, quaking internally.

  The medical scans were non-invasive. Merely looking for airborne pathogens.

  "Please extend your hand." The doctor was diffident and when she complied, she took a quick blood sample.

  She was alone in the examination room with the physician. General Mathwin was waiting outside. "May I ask a question?" she asked the doctor in Common, almost using her mother tongue by mistake.

  "Of course."

  "If I am healthy, are these reports private?"

  She blinked at Tia in confusion. "What do you mean?"

  Tia cleared her throat. "I am confident I am in good health, but I do not wish the medical reports to become public beyond reporting that I am healthy."

  "We have to identify your species to make sure you are in spec."

  "Could you lock the door please?"

  Bemused, the doctor complied and approached again.

  Taking a deep breath, Tia swept her concealing drape away. "As you can see, I do not quite meet Misrael specifications."

  The woman gasped in surprise. "Why are you hiding?"

  "It's a matter of life and death, literally. I can only tell you that I have committed no crime and am fleeing for my life."

  "The General can surely…"

  "It is best that no Hashka know that I am here. Can I rely on your discretion?" She touched the mind of the doctor lightly. The woman would indeed keep her secret. The doctor had a romantic streak and she imagined that Tia was fleeing an arranged marriage.

  Tia blinked in amazement. She had never before done something like that. She swiftly moved the veil back into place to hide her shock.

  "You can. Do you need anything?"

  This was a tricky matter. "Do you have any Chromial?"

  The doctor blinked in surprise. "It is illegal to own or sell."

  Tia closed her eyes tightly. It was just her luck to be carrying a restricted substance. "Do you have anything that restricts a woman's heat?"

  The doctor cocked her head and thought. "I have two other drugs and a cream. The cream will keep your skin from showing the signs and dampen your scent. It will also help with your pallor. It has pigments in it that will keep you looking healthy."

  She crossed the room and started to root around in the cupboard. She retrieved some bottles and a huge jar. When she handed over the jar, she admonished. "You need to cover yourself with the cream. Everywhere. That includes vulva and labia. You also need to insert your fingers an inch or two to stop any stimulation from creating natural lubrication. That is where you carry most of your scent, as you probably well know."

  Getting that direct briefing, she wondered how to explain the bottles and jars.

  "Now. The Scorian will make you a little dizzy and nauseous, but I have given you enough of it and the Morclin for a month. That should reduce your heat to tolerable levels and conceal it."

  "Thank you, Doctor."

  "Doctor Sheelin. Come back any time if you need anything at all." She held out her hand and Tia shook it.

  She hopped off the table to the floor and the doc swiftly placed all the items in a bag. She handed the bag back to Tia and escorted her to the door.

  General Mathwin was waiting outside.

  "She's fine, General. Just a few skin lesions that should heal in time. I have given her something to help fight infection." The doctor was calm and cheerful.

  "Thank you, Doctor. Tia, please come with me."

  He led her out of the medical facility and into the sunlight. Tia bemoaned her inability to enjoy the rays on her skin.

  The streets were well kept and cheerful. It was a friendly looking place and it felt safe. Part of Tia sighed in relief at feeling safe. The rest of her was on guard.

  "General Mathwin?"

  "Yes, Tia?" The words came out awkwardly as if he was uncomfortable addressing her.

  "How did an officer of your rank come to be on duty today?"

  He turned and smiled at the waving fabric that covered her. "I took the standby position today because most men are preparing for the Lassing festival."

  The very name made her queasy. "Lassing festival?"

  "To honour Lassing, our god of fertility. He guided our landing to this world and made us prosperous and fruitful. We honour him this month." He didn't tell her how.

  His cheeks had darkened and she wondered at the blush, then remembered her costume.

  "I see."

  "Your requiring work is fortuitous. With most folks going to their clan holdings for the festival, help is required in the port."

  He reached into his pocket and extended a bracelet. "It is your work visa. While you were in with the doctor, I got the docking information for your shuttle. The value for basic repairs is astronomical."

  She sighed and put the bracelet on. It clicked together.

  "It will fall off when your visa expires. At that point, you will be placed on a ship to the next station or you will have the right to get your employer to sign a writ of employment. I will check on you in a day or two and bring you what clothing I can scrounge up." His lips curved i
n a smile and she blinked. It was as if the statues of Lassing back home had turned from a scowling countenance to a smile.

  His chiselled lips made her heart beat faster, heat pooled in her womb and she bit her lip to distract her from the hormonal rush he was triggering. "Thank you for your assistance. You have been very kind. I don't know why."

  He chuckled and led her through the front door of a tavern. "Neither do I."

  Chapter Two