Process, Part 8 (CROSS//Process)

CROSS//Process, Part 8 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 10. Chapter 10 Get PART 9 Free Stories! FB Group Copyright CROSS//Process PART 8 Copyright: Hildred BillingsPublished: 17th April, 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 Terra III, Federation Year 4539 The spectacular sunsets that commanded the sky were often lost on those attending meetings deep within Terra III’s capital building, where the Federation parliament met year-round. During the summer months, Cairn supposed that it was easier for diplomats to emerge from the dark recesses and return to their apartments before the sun fully set, but as it was spring in the capital right now, she was lucky to see the last glimpses of sunset when she and Sulim were finally released from meetings, testimonies, and the dreadfully boring hearings that would soon decide the fate of Cerilyn’s new treaty with the Federation. The most recent chapter of civil unrest was coming to an end. The Federation Forces were letting go of planets and colonies that weren’t worth the money and manpower to retain, and others had been subjugated into peace. After all, the Commander of the Federation Forces had declared that focus was turning toward the capture of Nerilis Dunsman, the current biggest threat to the universe and its most wanted man. Cairn had opinions about that, of course, but none of them mattered when she and the other two tribal chiefs were summoned for a week’s worth of parlay. The Federation government wanted certain changes, and Cerilyn yearned to keep business as usual. Well, Penni di’Triden and Demirius Galloway did. Cairn was the lone wolf pushing for some of her localized changes to be made global on the mercenary planet. “Right of Conquest simply can’t continue under the new order,” Cairn attempted to explain to her peers as they were held in a separate room while the parliament continued to debate. Beside her, Sulim leaned against the wall, keeping watch on the other players who might try something funny at any moment. Not that Cairn was worried about Demirius and his pair of women, both of whom Cairn was pretty sure she ripped away from Qahrain over ten years ago. No, it was Penni who was pissed, and Penni was the one who brought a giant bodyguard two heads taller than anyone else. “They’re not going to allow it. They might let you phase it out, maybe keep it to non-Federated spaces, but it’s over. For the best, honestly. Focus on making your tribes a place where people want to enlist and work.” Demirius kept his opinions to himself, mostly because he always delighted more in a good cat fight. Besides, Third Tribe has also been steering away from Right of Conquest. It never worked best for them, anyway. They wanted highly skilled mercenaries who could take on the big heist, espionage, and assassination jobs. Both Demirius and his predecessor were best at recruiting criminals needing protection from the Federation Forces, as well as enticing former Forces themselves. It was Penni and her massive First Tribe with a “bodies first” mentality, and that was only sustainable with Right of Conquest. “Easy for you to say,” Penni grumbled, her large feet scraping against the floor when she leaned back on her bench. “You don’t have a whole army to feed and keep stocked with fresh meat.” “Nobody’s hiring armies anymore! Don’t you get it?” Demirius said with a hoot. “You’ll have to figure out a way to pare down your brood of killing machines. Because unless you find a new angle beyond armies for hire, you’re going to be in a world of hurt. Don’t come crying to us when an uprising happens on your watch because your people don’t have work and food.” “Are you really going to do so much better than me? Last I checked, Galloway, the Federation losing its potential agrarian planet is going to hurt you too. Nobody’s selling food to Cerilyn without a price hike to match the inflation hitting the universe.” Cairn shook her head. “The point you’re missing is that Third and Second tribes can weather this oncoming food shortage. You can’t. Not with the number of mouths and no work of your caliber to be had. The Federation isn’t hiring you anymore. The people fighting against them won’t be hiring you. What are you going to do?” “What do you propose I do, huh?” Penni slapped her hands onto her lap. Like her bodyguard, she was twice the size of Cairn and Demirius. Almost twice the size of us put together. Demirius’s older, wiry frame and Cairn’s lean physique wouldn’t last two seconds if Penni and her burly bodyguard decided to mince them in hand-to-hand combat. Which was why they were surrounded by their own bodyguards. Cairn was more than aware of Sulim’s gaze traveling between Eyne on the other side of the room and Penni di’Triden. Only thing keeping me calm is that silent truce they just made. Sulim and Eyne wouldn’t only protect their chiefs, they’d take out the threat together. And probably get mortally wounded in the process, but that was what the Federation got when they put all three agitated chiefs into one windowless room together. “I’d lend my Second out to you,” Cairn said, “but he’s busy keeping Second Tribe running like a well-oiled machine. He would have good advice for you, though. Including the