Read Drifters' Alliance, Book 1 Page 18


  “So… are you officially Level Ten or still Level Nine?” Gus asks suspiciously.

  “Jesus H Droidman, would you just leave it?” Tam asks, disgusted with his brother.

  “What?” Gus looks first at Tam and then at the group. “What’d I say?”

  “Anyway,” I say in a loud voice, trying to move the conversation along, “I left. I’d had enough by the time I turned sixteen, and so I hitched a ride out of there the day of my birthday.”

  “Where’d you go?” Jens asks, his carrots forgotten.

  “Around. Different stations, mostly. Some ships. Worked in a goatherd’s biodome for a while shoveling shit.”

  “Nice,” Gus says, nodding and smiling. “Our captain is a former brownshins.”

  Tam shakes his head as his hand leaves the table slowly. Two seconds later Gus jumps up and turns on his brother, rocking halfway out of his chair. “What the hell, man! Did you just stab me with your fork?!”

  “What did you expect, synth brain? She’s telling her fucking story and you’re jacking her!”

  “I’m not jacking her, I’m just saying she’s come a long way!” Gus turns to me, his face bright red, making his spots stand out against his skin. “You know that, right, Captain? I have all the respect in the world for you.” He puts his hand over his heart and gives me a slight bow.

  I nod. “Relax. You’re fine.” I look at Tam. “I appreciate you watching out for me.”

  Tam nods and puts his fork back on the table. Gus snatches it away and sits on it, shoving his brother away when he tries to retrieve it.

  “I would like to say a few words,” Jeffers says.

  I wait for him to continue, happy to give the floor to someone else.

  “First, thank you, Captain, for sharing what must have been a difficult experience with this group of near strangers on this our first flight together.”

  I nod. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as I’d thought it would be. I can’t tell if Baebong has forgiven me, but at least he’s not looking at me like I’m dead to him anymore.

  “We all have parts of our history that we might like to forget or pretend never existed, but I think it’s important to remember that those experiences shape who we are today. And, I, for one, am happy to be a part of your crew. You’ve proven yourself to be resilient, tough, graceful under pressure, and fair. We can’t ask for anything more from our captain.”

  Everyone but Lucinda nods. She stares off into the distance, and I can’t tell if she’s even listening to what’s being said. I don’t hold it against her, though; I remember what it was like to have someone drone on and on about something I didn’t believe in.

  “Well said, healer,” Rollo adds. “Rollo isn’t one for drifting normally, but even he’d consider a mission or two if Captain Cass were at the helm.”

  Baebong stares at him and then turns to look at me.

  “What about you, friend?” I say to him, my vulnerability on show for everyone at the table. I can’t keep the pleading tone out of my voice. “You still onboard for a mission or two?”

  Baebong’s eyebrows flicker before he answers. “You still going to let me rig the ship with my weapons?”

  I shrug. “As long as the twins assure me you won’t blow the place up.”

  The three of them look at each other and nod. I’m not sure I like the sneaky smiles I see lighting up their faces right now, but there will be plenty of time to deal with that later.

  “Okay, so …,” Gunter rubs his hands together, “now that we have the nice love fest here at the table, perhaps you can discuss your participation in the Alliance.” He crushes a hunk of bread off the loaf with his bare hand and drops it onto his plate before passing the loaf on to Jacov.

  “What’s this all about?” Lucinda asks. “What Alliance?”

  “We have been offered the opportunity to join up with some other drifters in some sort of official Alliance.” I look to Gunter. “Do you want to explain?”

  “Of course.” He rests both arms on the table as he talks, his gaze sweeping the table. “When we began to notice, a couple years ago or so, that the OSG was making moves to … change their priorities, shall we say … we decided to make some inquiries of other ships to determine if there might be any interest in forming an alliance.”

  “Eyes and ears,” Jens says, nodding at his cousin and then at me. His eyes flicker south again before he quickly drops his head and stares at his plate once more.

  “Exactly,” I say. “A small group of drifters isn’t going to go after the OSG, obviously, but none of us want that anyway. We just want to be able to live our lives on the drift without someone blocking access to resources we have the right to.”

  “Like water,” Rollo says.

  “Yes. Like water. Like the ability to trade and barter with who we want without worrying about being imprisoned for dealing in contraband.”

  “So how does the Alliance work?” Jeffers asks. “Who’s in it? Are there protocols already in place? Who’s the leader?”

  Gunter holds up his hand to stop the barrage of questions. “Okay, so you have many questions. That is normal, I am sure. Let me begin by saying that there is no leader. Every captain remains at the helm of his or her ship.” He nods at me. “We take a vote on things if we are not in complete agreement, but it is rare we need to do that.”

  “Everyone gets along. And we trade too,” Jens adds.

  “Who’s in the Alliance? Anyone we might know?” Baebong asks.

  “You have met one of them. The DS Arcadia. The others will be introduced to you in the event you agree to join and they agree to allow you to join.”

  “Allow us?” I look at him, confused. “I thought we were already in.”

  “Well, there is this small issue of you being with the OSG…”

  “Formerly with the OSG,” Gus says. “Big difference.”

  I’m grateful for the smile he gives me and the support.

  “Yes, of course, but I need to have a conversation with them to assure them it is not a problem.”

  “What’s the mission?” Jeffers asks. “Of the Alliance, I mean.”

  “Our mission is simply to enable drifting as it has always been.”

  “And you accomplish this mission how?” Baebong leans in, more interested than I’ve seen him since we sat down at the table.

  “We position ourselves together around resources when we are in need and act as eyes and ears for one another as we access those resources. We play a little bit of hide and seek, maybe you could say, with the OSG when necessary.”

  “You have a cloaking device. I’d love to get my hands on one of those,” Baebong says.

  “Me too,” Tam says.

  “All of our technology will be loaned to you, in exchange for whatever you might have to give to us of equal value.” Gunter smiles, and I recognize the sly quality to it for what it is. He’s not in the business of running a charity, but then again, neither am I. I can respect that.

  “What about the disk?” Tam asks.

  The table goes silent.

  Jacov’s jaw bounces out several times, but he doesn’t say a word.

  “We will give you a chicken for this disk you do not have,” Gunter says, all traces of humor gone. “It will keep its presence masked. But you are not to reveal it to anyone without first some training and approval. Do you understand?” He looks right at me.

  I nod. “I understand.”

  “So when will we know?” Lucinda asks. “Whether we’re approved for membership or whatever?”

  I wonder if she’s asking because she needs time to decide if she’s leaving or not, but there’s no way for me to know. She’s getting smarter about sharing her emotions, keeping her face almost as blank as Baebong’s is.

  “Tomorrow. Maybe two days. I will see. You can send me your resting coordinates, and I will contact you when I know.”

  I nod. “That works for me. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s all I need to know right now, because I?
??m starving. What’s for dinner?”

  My crew smiles, even Lucinda, so I’m happy for once that my stomach has decided to take over the running of the show. Jeffers reaches across the table and lifts a lid from a pot in the middle. “Vegetable stew.” Another dish is revealed by Lucinda. “Rice,” she says. Jens holds up the rest of the rock hard loaf. “And not fresh at all bread!”

  Laugher fills the room as hands reach out to grab and pass food. The meal is nothing like I used to eat in my father’s home as far as quality or quantity, but it’s still the best I’ve ever had. Today I’m breaking bread with my crew and with a possible ally in the dining room of my very own DS. As far as I’m concerned, life doesn’t get any better than this.

  Want more?

  The adventures of Captain Cass and the crew of the DS Anarchy continue… For more of the humor, writing style and action you enjoyed in Book 1, read Books 2 and 3 in the Drifters’ Alliance series next!

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  Elle Casey is a prolific, New York Times and USA Today bestselling American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and several furry friends. She writes in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

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  Elle Casey, Drifters' Alliance, Book 1

 


 

 
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