Process, Part 2 (CROSS//Process)

CROSS//Process, Part 2 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 3 Free Stories! FB Group CROSS//Process Part 2 Copyright: Hildred M. Billings Published: January 23rd, 2023 Publisher: 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. MAIN SERIES REBIRTH REVENGE REGRESS REPENT RELEASE PREQUELS PROCESS PROPHET one C erilyn; Federation Year 4527 Sulim pitched against the wall as the space cruiser swerved again. She almost lost her breakfast. They had been landing for over an hour. At first, Sulim was fine with the undulations of the ship and the erratic turns it took, but nothing prepared her for the rising and falling motions of the ship being pulled in by Cerilyn’s gravity. She figured things were easier on the bridge, where Kila and Cairn could strap themselves into proper chairs and not fling around like rag dolls on the brink of vomiting. Well, Sulim mused, at least my right arm won’t get sick. A clang, a bang, a clash, and a huge whomp later, the ship grew still beneath Sulim’s feet. The walls whistled as the space cruiser came to a complete rest, the engine died, and the lights flickered until the backup generator kicked in. With the hum of the engine gone, the faintest buzz of voices and footsteps loitered in the corridor. Some laughed, many shouted, and as they grew closer Sulim made out the Basic language of the Federation sprinkled with regionalized dialects she had never heard before. Most of the voices sounded male, but occasionally she heard Kila squeal about something or Cairn grunt in agreement. Then she heard Manda’s sobs. They were faint at first until Sulim realized that the other girls were not too far away by the intensity of Manda’s tears. Somebody—probably Cairn—complained about having to deal with a “crier.” A male voice shouted at Manda to “stop crying, you stupid bitch,” followed by the caustic sound of skin on skin and one last sob from Manda. After that, Sulim could not hear any of her fellow prisoners. Within thirty minutes, the panel door opened to reveal Cairn, dressed in full mail and devoid of any clipboard; instead, she held in one hand the rope she used to catch Fel and in the other a small radio. Before she spoke, a voice on the radio garbled, “…Yeah, sure, take them all to Rollo for all I care. Fewer bungholes for me to deal with today.” “You ready?” Cairn asked. Sulim stood but did not otherwise respond. The mercenary undid Sulim’s shackle and tied her hands together in front. A piece hung from the top. Cairn used it to pull Sulim along like a puppy. “Remember what I told you,” Cairn said as they entered the corridor. “Obey.” They met up with Kila and the other prisoners, including Eyne who was tied to the back of the row. Her eyes lit up when she saw Sulim, but it was a momentary greeting as Cairn attached Sulim to the rear of the prisoner chain. When she glanced forward in line, she saw Manda, cheek red and bottom lip bleeding. “Shit,” Kila muttered as she rounded the corner ahead of them. “The boys beat us here by two hours! They’ve already started processing their recruits!” “So? I didn’t realize we were racing. Did you wager them?” Cairn tugged on the rope between Sulim and Eyne to make sure it was secure. “No, but now it’s gonna take that much longer for us to get done. It’s early afternoon here, you know. I wanted to be done by dinner so I could take a hot bath and drink myself to sleep. Tonight’s as much of a day off as we’re like to get. Shit.” “Eh,” Cairn shrugged. “I’ll be happy to finish before supper’s over. I need real food, not more of this space shit.” “Gods, whatever’s for dinner, I hope it’s juicy and bloody and delicious.” A snort echoed in the cramped corridor. “Like your cunt, right?” The owner of the male voice appeared, a man with a large, stocky build and a shaved head covered in swirling black tattoos. He grinned to show one golden tooth among a sea of brown and yellow. “Fuck, Kila, don’t look at me like that. Just a joke.” “A gross joke.” The man sneered at both of them but noticed the lineup of six new female recruits. “Speaking of juicy,” he smacked his lips, “look at what you brought me.” “Oh, shut it, Brangh! You wonder why the only thigh you get is from the girls in town.” “I know I ain’t got any of your thighs!” “You’re also, what, thirty? So gross.” Cairn bit her lip to contain a laugh in Sulim’s ear. Kila told the man off one more time before he told them to bring the new recruits through for processing. “Who’s doing it today?” Cairn asked. Brangh stopped long enough to answer before disappearing around a corner. “Chief’s busy, so you get Olma.” “Oh, goodie. Maybe we will be done by supper after all,” Kila chirped. After another few minutes of bickering and checking and rechecking the bindings linking the prisoners, Kila led the column through the front corridors of the space cruiser and to the loading area in the back. The first sign that they were indeed on Cerilyn was the heat. Sulim was shocked as the humidity slapped her face when they emerged from the air-conditioned corridor and into the open loading area. Eyne