Process, Part 6 (CROSS//Process)

CROSS//Process, Part 6 Hildred M. Billings Contents Copyright Series Order 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 Get PART 7 Free Stories! FB Group Copyright CROSS//Process PART 6 Copyright: Hildred M. BillingsPublished: 20th March, 2023Publisher: Barachou Press This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format. Series Order MAIN SERIES REBIRTH REVENGE REGRESS REPENT RELEASE PREQUELS PROCESS PROPHET one S arma; Federation Year 4530 Everyone who had been in that barrack house for the past two years woke up with a renewed sense of purpose in their veins. Even Sulim, who never thought she’d miss the tiny room where she had bunked with Eyne. “Should I bother making the bed?” Sulim had said that to Eyne, but the girl was gone, leaving her partner to talk to herself. She climbed the ladder to her top bunk and flung the covers over the mattress in a half-assed attempt at making it presentable. It really didn’t matter. A cleaning crew would be in here as soon as the stranded mercenaries were finally allowed to leave Sarma’s dark and cold moon. Everything moved so quickly. From the treaty signed on Terra III that alleviated the political strife on Sarma to Second Tribe being allowed to call the six stranded fighters back to Cerilyn, Sulim still had whiplash. It had only been a week, and she had gone from writing down what books she requested from the guards’ monthly provisions to packing her only bag. There wasn’t much information, beyond what the captain overseeing their house arrest relayed. Ari had a private video conversation with Chief Cairn di’Cerilyn, the first one since the crew arrived on Sarma and were marooned for almost two years. Sulim burned that she couldn’t be there for that. Mostly because she had heard a hundred rumors about what had happened to Second Tribe. Let alone what had transpired under Cairn’s leadership. Two. Years. Sulim was nineteen now, the same age Cairn had been when they parted. What did she look like in her twenties? How did she carry herself as chief? For every rumor that she ruled with an iron fist, there was another that overall happiness in the tribe had never been higher. The captain let slip that “changes are occurring,” but he never said what. It took Ari having that half-hour conversation about the details of their return for her to announce at dinner, “Apparently, raids are being phased out.” There were mixed feelings about that, of course. Eyne’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her eating utensil, and Hunter quipped that he had been looking forward to taking kids “kicking and screaming” once he had the chance. Sulim wasn’t sure how she felt. She didn’t want to sink into the mindset that because she went through certain trauma, others had to suffer, but she would be remiss to not acknowledge the negative feelings that bubbled up when she heard that. Sulim didn’t know anything beyond that. She didn’t know what Cairn looked or acted like. She also had no idea what had happened to the others she used to know. Had Sonall finally come into his own after the death of his sister? Who else besides Kila had died? What about Giselle and Lessi? Even the people she wasn’t that interested in often crossed her mind. Olma, Silva, and the others. She’d find out soon enough. She simply wanted to be prepared. The ship had been refueled, and Ari and Kleper argued over who would pilot it to Cerilyn. The guard captain, who had been in charge of keeping the crew on Sarma’s moon while supplying them with provisions and amusements, promised the Federation would pay their fee, with interest. He then suggested that they not let any of the “whelps” near the pilot’s chair, because one of the few things the mercenaries were allowed to do outside of the guardhouse was practice flying the ship. The captain even arranged for Sulim and the others to procure their pilot’s licenses, provided they were Federation citizens at birth. So she wasn’t going back to Cerilyn without new knowledge. She could now fly the standard ship in Second Tribe’s arsenal. Her understanding of unloaded but modern weapons had increased. She had studied languages and picked up an interest, alongside Eyne, in poisons and subterfuge. The captain couldn’t help them much with that, but he did bring them science textbooks as an act of good faith toward Second Tribe. This will all be a debt he comes to claim eventually. But the chief had signed off on everything, not that Sulim learned the details. I still can’t believe she’s the chief. Butterflies haunted Sulim’s stomach as she strapped into her seat. She didn’t look back at the guardhouse, only forward, where two Federation cruisers cleared the way for Second Tribe’s takeoff. Voices scrambled over the radio. Ari switched between two dialects as she talked to the captain one minute and a planetside Sarmite the next. Although the Federation now had a firm political grip on the planet, the two had different ideas of what to use the guardhouse for once the limbo-bound mercenaries were finally gone. But that wasn’t any of Sulim’s concern. She was told to focus on reintegrating herself into Second Tribe when they arrived, complete with a personal debriefing with the chief once they landed and were processed through the infirmary to ensure they had sustained no new injuries or brought back a foreign disease. At least Narlami was still in charge there. “I wonder where we’ll be sleeping,” Eyne mused