Resistance: Black Talon, #1

By Chris Winder

Buy a starship they said.
It'll be fun they said.

Ben Snyder bought a cargo ship, hired a crew of reformed criminals, and set off to make his riches. Unfortunately, nobody but the Galactic Republic will hire him, and he doesn't take government contracts. When he was offered a job to transport one person for more credits than he'd ever seen, it was an offer he should have refused.

Chased by a crazy ex-girlfriend, held hostage by a hostile passenger, Ben has to find a way to get himself and his crew out of trouble in one piece.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Winder Books
• Release date: Apr 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386846765

Chris Winder

Chris Winder is a Science Fiction author, former United States Marine, husband, and father. His stories include Space Trash, a comic science fiction novel, Breach Team, a space Marine novel (co-written with best-selling author JR Handley), What Really Matters, a story told in the Four Horsemen Universe of Chris Kennedy Publishing, and more. Chris Winder lives in northern Arizona where he enjoys the peace and quiet of rural living along with his wife, youngest child, elderly dog, and two obnoxious but adorable cats.

Book preview

Chapter 1

With one cautious hand , Ben Snyder pushed the thorny, green frond aside. He had to keep an eye on the scary woman who pursued him, hounded him, and made him jump at every sound.

The woman could sneak up on him anywhere. She'd already done it twice, and he wasn't sure if he had it in him to get away a third time.

The dirt beneath his concealing shrub smelled damp, earthy and yet somehow artificial. The pot it sat in was tall, almost up to his waist, and wide enough that if he had to, he could crouch behind it. He imagined himself as a sniper, hiding for days, deep in a tropical jungle, instead of squatting behind a large potted plant in the middle of a busy space station terminal.

So intent was his focus, he hardly noticed the small scratches he was receiving on the back of his hand from tiny, sharp thorns. He also didn't notice the several sets of eyes analyzing him and whispering among themselves.

Not until a small child accidentally backed into him did he take a quick glance around his surroundings.

Though it was only a substation, it was large enough he felt the chance of meeting anyone he knew, especially her, was almost zero. Any two people could have coexisted within the monstrous spider-shaped construction for weeks, possibly months, without learning the other person was present.

The station was built with a huge central hub. From it, extending out like the legs of a freakishly-large spider, were gangways, corridors and umbilicals. Most of them were occupied by the many ships which used the station to transfer cargo, refuel, or repair.

Somehow, though, she'd learned he was there. It could have been an undiscovered tracking device somewhere on his ship, but it didn't seem likely. It could have been witchcraft, but even though that was more likely, he knew there was no such thing. Not for real, anyway. Most likely, she was still hunting him, which meant she'd never give up.

He'd taken every precaution he could think of. He'd paid a small fortune for a new identity and changed the name of his ship. He'd even had his hair genetically recolored, yet here he was, praying she would go the other way.

She's still looking for you, boss, Liam transmitted on their private communication channel.

I can see that, Ben whispered. Let me know if she comes any closer. Or if she spots me... that'd be worse.

Hold on, Liam whispered, it looks like, yeah, it looks like she's giving up – walking away. You're not in the clear yet, but almost.

Ben let out the big breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It was almost over then. At least for now. Sooner or later she'd find him, he knew. Later would be preferable, though.

His thoughts turned to those who would suffer if here were caught. His ship, along with his crew, was his responsibility. He promised them riches, but when the wealth hadn't materialized, they'd stuck with him anyways.

Everyone had a history. He knew this and sought-out people who not only needed a second chance but would be willing to take the gamble with him. People who'd made some pretty big mistakes in their lives but were still capable and willing to make a new start.

He wondered if his crew would have stood by him if they'd had anywhere else to go. If a better opportunity presented themselves, would they leave? It was these thoughts, these wonderings, which distracted him from what was happening with her.

He watched the woman as he thought about his current situation. He'd come to the station for cargo. It was his livelihood. It's all he knew how to do and he was good at it. He enjoyed the monotony. They had a good ship for the task, but it was weird, a prototype, one-of-a-kind. Nobody trusted him or his hauler, except the government. The Republic trusted nearly everyone. There was more cargo to move than ships to move it.

But he hated taking government work. It always made him feel dirty because he was never allowed to know what he was transporting. The cargo could be paper products for office workers. The stuff in the unmarked, unscannable boxes could be foodstuffs or humanitarian relief supplies. Those things would've been fine. If he knew that's what he was transporting, his conscience would have been clear, and taking contracts from the Republic would have been fine.

However, there were far worse things the government needed transported. Somehow, police robots were being transported to Earth. It was illegal to manufacture them there, but more kept appearing every day. And, because he wouldn't tell him what it was, he suspected the worst.

Your attention please, a voice said over hidden speakers throughout the terminal. Flight gamma six gamma four-two-nine will be departing in five minutes. All passengers must be boarded within two minutes. All passengers with scheduled departure on two-one-six-one-one are requested to make their way to Umbilical one-seven-nine for embarkation at this time.

The universal translator's voice was dull, unemotional, and quite utterly boring. It echoed around in his head for several seconds, but he didn't dare deactivate it. If his ship or name were mentioned, he'd need to know about it, no matter what language it was in.

The more expensive models of subcranial translators did a better job at translating the nuances of human speech and meaning. All he could afford was the base model, which meant he had to be very careful not to take offense to anything anyone said. What might sound rude in his head, might be the translator doing its best with the tech it had available.

Had he stayed on Earth and worked for one of the many large corporations or the government, he would have been provided with at least a medium-quality translator. But Ben had seen enough of what the government could do and how many of the large corporations made their money feeding the beast. It was more than he could stomach.

Wait! someone yelled. Ben almost jumped out of his skin.

A man sprinted across the huge terminal yelling at the top of his lungs. He wore a modern, purple business suit complete with garish, orange tie. The man’s speed contrasted with his rotund physique.

He bound over a short planter, his trailing luggage-but doing its best to keep up. Sparks flew from the cube-shaped robot's wheeled undercarriage as it struck the planter hard after failing a vault.

Wait! Don't leave yet! I have a first-class seat! You have to wait for me!

The other people in the terminal, mostly tourists and boat captains by the look of them, parted to let him through. One older woman looked confused, though. She took a step to the left. Then she stepped to the right. Finally, she decided she'd lived long enough and stood her ground as she stared into the face of danger.

Ben was tempted, for a split second, to fly from his hiding space behind the giant potted plant and rescue the old woman. But, self-preservation – his own – won in the end.

She closed her eyes as the man and his faithful robot-luggage closed the distance. She dropped her purse to her side by her feet. Its large, colorful flower-print much brighter than her own apparent mood.

Her assailant closed. She inhaled deeply, mouthed a prayer, and prepared for the worst. The man swerved to the left. His luggage bot tried to follow, decided against it, and careened around the other side of the old woman, barely missing her. The only damage or injury was a narrow tire track across the happy, little daisies on the woman's purse.

Ben watched the scene unfold, unable to peel his eyes from the action. Two guards materialized from seemingly nowhere to block the umbilical, or reconfigurable gangway, to gamma six gamma four-two-nine. Halt! one of them said in a deep, robotic voice.

Both guards had impressive-looking rifles pointed at the sputtering man. Their tall, sharp-edged blue-and-black armored frames promised pain to anyone who crossed them.

You have to let me on this ship! the man wheezed. I have a first-class ticket. He waved the tickets-chip up at their navels. The guards were tall.

The robotic guards regarded the man for a moment before one of them withdrew its non-firing hand from its rifle and held it out for the data chip. After a moment, he confirmed the ticket, the first-class status, and returned the chip to the man who was still yelling at them.

Have a nice trip, the second guard said as both stepped out of the way. The man responded with a few colorful epithets and sprinted out the exit. The guards returned to their stations. The crowd, having nothing left to entertain them, went back to what they were doing, which consisted of rushing from one place to another, eating, and relieving themselves in private.

Ben watch the guards with some dismay. He wondered absently if that would be him someday – if he’d be the one squared-off with a big robot. If he’d be on the wrong side of the law. He wondered if he’d reach a point where he’d be desperate enough to do something... dumb.

Uh, boss, she's talking to one of those big, robot guards now, Liam said, his voice sounding worried. I think we might have trouble. Yeah, for sure. They're talking. She sounds mad. He's not saying much yet. I'm gonna try to get closer, but it might be time to run for it.

Can't run. They'd catch us to find out why we bailed. Plus, you'd be stuck here. There's no way you'd make it to the ship in time.

Leave me, Liam said. I can manage. I'll find work here. There's got to be someone who needs–

Shut up, Ben interrupted. Don't give yourself away. Shush. We're leaving together. Tell me what she's doing. Use a calm voice, but don't whisper. Whispering attracts attention. Don't give us away.

Okay, boss, Liam reported. "She's standing there, yelling at the guard. Waving her arms around like she's mad at you. She's leaning in towards him with her chin stuck out. Looks like she's daring that big robot to hit her. I think she wants to fight him! You