Drifters' Alliance, Book 1

by Elle Casey

  “No one uses the water until the Captain tells you it is permitted.” Beltz is using the all-comm to answer Rollo and anyone else who might have the same question he did. After switching it off, he leans down, banging his hand on my shoulder a few times. My hands fall away from my face and rest limply on the arms of the captain’s chair.

  “Well done,” he says with a chuckle. “But I still say you are a crazy bitch. I have never seen anything like that in my life.” He laughs louder, apparently thrilled to have looked death in the face and walked away unscathed. Easy for him; it’s not his damn ship that needs an overhaul.

  I knock his hand off, not angry with him, but because having him touch me in a fatherly way makes me feel like a kid. I don’t need his approval or anyone else’s. This is my ship and I fly her the way I feel is best. Although, looking back over the last ten minutes, I’m not sure risking everything like I just did was worth the water we took on. What made me do that? Was I really worried about my crew’s hydration needs or was I trying to show off? I really hope it’s the former because show-offs die in the Dark. That’s a fact.

  Properly subdued by my own gloomy thoughts, I address the ship’s computer with more humility that I was feeling thirty seconds ago. “Adelle, I need a full report on the ship’s systems and structural stability in two hours. Can you do it?”

  “Of course, Captain. I can give it to you in five minutes if you prefer.”

  “No, thanks. Two hours is good.” That gives me time to eat and shower. I need to be clear-headed to deal with the aftermath of this mission. Now I know what I’m up against, at least when it comes to my own ship. As far as the Alliance is concerned, we still have to see about that. I hope it’s a lot less precarious a situation than the one we just sneaked our way out of. I feel like I cheated Death himself, and I’m worried he’s going to want his due eventually. And like Baebong said … we’re too young to die.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I USED TO TAKE SHOWERS for granted, but never again will I be doing that. Holy shit, this feels good. Did I die and go to Heaven or what? The water slides over me, standing out in droplets on my greasy skin where I haven’t yet run the cloth covered in dull grey suds. The harsh soap that Lucinda makes with some of her plant materials cuts through the grime nicely but leaves my body feeling like it’s burning. I don’t care, though. Whatever it takes to get this stink off me, I’m all for it. A freshly washed flightsuit is waiting for me on my bunk. I was happy to find that the ship’s cleaning systems actually work pretty well; must be because they were hardly used by Langlade’s crew before I came onboard.

  The shampoo, also given to me by Lucinda, smells like flowers. I can’t place which ones exactly, but I’m thrilled to be smelling like a girl for a change and not a station dump’s mongrel. It’s weird how my hair feels like it’s grown longer in the thirty hours since I’ve come onboard the DS Anarchy. I think all the grime and knots made it seem shorter than it was.

  When I step out of the shower naked and wet, goosebumps rise up all over my body. My chamber is colder than I’d like, but it’s probably for the best. Any warmer in here, and I’d be tempted to lie down in my bunk and sleep for twenty hours at least. There’s still business to be taken care of and I won’t get it done with my eyes closed.

  A voice breaks into my thoughts, and I grab the towel off a nearby hook and hold it against me in response.

  “Captain, you awake?”

  It’s Rollo outside my door. I let the towel go and use it to dry my arms and then my legs. “Yes, I’m awake, Rollo. What is it?”

  “Rollo has been instructed to tell you that we are approximately twenty minutes from our destination.” Someone yells at him in the background and he sighs before continuing. “Correction. Thirty minutes. Jesus, is everyone anal on this ship or what? Anyway, do you want Rollo to bring you some food?”

  “No. Everyone meets at the dining table in ten.” My eyes scan the room, looking for the things I’ll need to get presentable for my crew. There are several closed panels I’ve yet to open and explore. Maybe one of them holds a drying device and something that will make me look less near-dead than I do now. The mirror in this place is pissing me off. I look like a stowaway pulled off a garbage scow, and I should know since I’ve seen that face in the mirror before.

  “Should Rollo tell them?” he asks.

  “No, I’ll take care of it.” I cut off the comm with him and speak out loud in my room. “Adelle?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Tell all the crew to meet in the dining room in ten minutes. Attendance is mandatory. They’d better be dead if they’re not there.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Seconds later I hear the faint evidence of Adelle following my order echoing down the corridor outside my door. I hurry to get my flight suit on and run a comb through my hair. “Do I have anything to dry my hair in this chamber?” I ask Adelle.

  A panel to my left opens, dropping a drying dome down and bringing a seat out underneath it from another panel. “Yes, Captain. What setting do you prefer?”

  “Blast me. I have five minutes to get presentable.” I finish sliding into my flight suit, zipping up the jacket and walking over to the dryer.

  “As you wish.”

  Taking a seat below the dome, I begin to shiver as the invisible air currents and dehydrator work to remove the humidity from my hair. All of the moisture will be captured and returned to the filtration system to be used somewhere else; maybe for another shower or for our drinking water. Nothing gets wasted on a DS if the ship’s systems are functioning properly. Whether this particular DS is in good enough shape to harvest that water I just used is another question. Now I feel guilty; maybe I should have washed at the sink.

  “Adelle, what’s our water filtration functionality right now?”

  “Eighty-three percent effective, Captain.”

  “What do we need to fix it and get it to one hundred?” I know one hundred percent functionality is pretty much impossible, but I like to know the best case scenario and work from there.

  “I can provide you with a list at your hand unit if you wish. It is quite comprehensive.”

  I look over at the device that sits on the sink across the room. I’ll strap it to my wrist when I leave, so that during the meeting I can be updated by Adelle and communicate with the crew more effectively. I used to avoid the damn things because they reminded me too much of the shock bracelets I’ve been forced to wear, but I realize now that’s a silly thought. It’s time for me to grow up and start living in the present instead of dwelling in the past so much. And for the first time in my life, I think I can do it. Something about this drifters’ alliance is giving me hope. I just pray it’s not totally misplaced and undeserved.

  “Fine. Send the list there. Who’s in the dining room right now?” I reach up and feel my hair. It’s almost completely dry.

  “Everyone but you, Captain.”

  “Lucinda’s there?” I’m pleasantly surprised. Glad too, because I didn’t want to have to kick her off the ship.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  I’m tempted to ask Adelle to bug the room for me, but I don’t. I never liked being spied on by my father and his minions, so I’m not about to do it to someone else. If my crew wants to plan a mutiny, let them. I’ll deal with it when it comes up. If it comes up.

  Who are you kidding? After that ice-grab stunt, everyone’s going to want off this ship. I sigh, wondering how in the hell I’m going to manage flying the thing by myself. I’ll have to limp over to the nearest waystation and try to recruit a whole new crew with only a promise of future riches. That’ll be fun. And by fun, I mean not fun at all.

  I push the drying dome off my head, letting it fall back into the wall to be covered by a panel again. The chair follows as I stand and no longer need it. The mirror gives me a better report than it did previously; at least my hair is clean and slightly fluffy, no longer stuck to my head by several weeks’ worth of grease.
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br />   “Are you ready?” I ask my reflection.

  “Am I ready for what?” Adelle asks.

  “I’m talking to myself, Adelle. Disregard.”

  “Yes, Captain. But if I may, I believe you are ready.”

  I lift my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh yeah?” Great. A computer with an opinion. How did I get so lucky?

  “Yes. Your mission to extract water from the surface of Xylera was a success. You managed your limited resources to the maximum extent possible without any loss of life. Your water stores are replenished at over fifty percent and your shield is now fully functioning across the entire ship. According to my data, you are ready.”

  “Ready for what?” I ask, almost laughing. Computers are so stupid sometimes.

  “Ready to face the OSG warship approximately eight kilometers from our present position, inbound.”

  The blood goes cold in my veins. “Did you just say a warship is headed our way?”

  “Yes, Captain, I did.”

  I take off running out of my chamber, tripping over the threshold in the hallway and falling to my knees, making them bloody in the process. I can feel the stinging cut skin below my suit, but there’s no time to worry about it now. I need all hands on deck, and before that can happen, I need to know if they even want to be there for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I STRIDE INTO THE DINING room and take the seat at the head of the table. My crew had started to stand when I entered the room, but they take their seats in confusion when they see I’m not waiting around for the courtesy afforded me.

  “I don’t see Beltz,” I say, irritated that everyone isn’t here.

  “He’s back on his ship,” Baebong says. “We joined up when you were in the shower.”

  I shake my head, wondering why that bothers me. He doesn’t belong here, he belongs there on the DS Mekanika. “Where are they now?”

  Baebong shrugs. “Around somewhere not far. They’re cloaked, so it’s kind of hard to tell exactly until they contact us. He said they would soon, to arrange a meeting.” He scratches his head. “Not sure what he was talking about, though. A meeting?”

  “Fine.” I wave off his unspoken question to address the more serious issue at hand. “We have a problem.”

  Gus laughs. “Yeah, too much water onboard. I don’t know whether to shower myself or wash the engine room down first.”

  Everyone on the crew chuckles but me, so their joy peters out pretty quickly.

  “Sorry to rain on your parade, but we have a warship headed our way, and before they get here, I need to know who’s with me and who’s not.” My fingers wrap around the arms of my chair, digging into the carved wood surface. It’s the first time I notice that I’m sitting on actual wood here in the dining room. Langlade apparently liked to spoil himself with rare things while eating.

  “A warship?” Rollo looks from one face around him to another. “Is it the same one as before?” He finally settles on staring at me when no one offers up an answer for him.

  “I have no idea. I haven’t made contact yet. I need to know first who’s with me.”

  Everyone looks at me as though confused.

  “We are all with you, Captain,” Jeffers finally says, ending the game of silence it felt like we were playing.

  “Yeah. Why are you even asking?” Gus looks at me, then at his brother. “Am I missing something?”

  “She’s just worried she scared you guys away with her ice-grab,” Baebong says, cool as hell. Like he wasn’t going white in the face and screaming at me like a puff when I told him to release the boom chuck. But I let him have his moment of false bravery and watch as the rest of the crew rushes to affirm their loyalty.

  “Worried?” Gus laughs, a little too forcefully. “Nooo, not at all. Like Beltz said, that was the work of a finely tuned machine. You’ve obviously earned the captain’s chair.” Gus nods first at me and then at everyone else around the table.

  “Never seen anything like it,” Rollo says. “And Rollo has seen a lot, you can trust Rollo on that.”

  “You get your pants cleaned?” I ask, trying not to smile.

  He looks down at his lap and then back up at me. “Rollo spilled some tea on himself. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Sure you did.” I turn my attention to Jeffers as the crew laughs. “We good for food?”

  “Never better,” he says, grinning. “I have something special planned for our next meal. I understand we’ll be having guests.”

  I nod, looking at all the faces before me, at the people who’ve decided to throw their lot in with mine, come hell or high icy waters. I can’t lie; it’s pretty damn amazing to feel the way I do right now. I can’t remember ever being this proud. And now it’s time to up the ante, to see if they really are in this with me through thick and thin.

  “We’ve been invited to join a drifters’ alliance. I don’t know all the details yet, but with us, they’d number five.”

  “What’s an alliance of only five DSs going to do for us?” Tam asks.

  “An excellent question. We’ll find out the answer to that question and any others we have over a meal with Beltz and his crew.”

  “When?” Baebong asks.

  “As soon as we get the hell away from this warship.”

  “We going to do evasive maneuvers?” Gus asks. He sounds way too happy about the prospect.

  “I sincerely hope not,” I say, still wasted from my last adrenaline overdose. The closest planet being Xylera does not bode well for an evasive escape. I’m not good enough to fly around moving ice waves; even I can admit that much.

  “What if they want to board us?” Lucinda asks.

  “Better get your stink machine going,” I say, winking at her.

  She has the decency to go a little red in the cheeks. Hopefully that’ll be the last trick she tries to play on me.

  “Seriously,” I say, no longer messing around with her. “Do whatever you can to make the biogrid seem inhospitable to strangers. I don’t want anyone going beyond the antechamber into the grid itself.”

  “What about the disk?” Baebong asks.

  “Where is it?” I look around at my crew, wondering who took charge of it when I became incapacitated.

  “I buried it,” Lucinda says.

  I grip the edges of my seat a little less forcefully and look at everyone, knowing I’m trusting them with everything I have to my name. Going against a warship is one thing; going against its crew while it’s onboard this ship is a whole other mess of giant proportions. That’s personal, and you never know who a crew member is connected to usually until it’s too late.

  I measure my words carefully, knowing that I’m saying so much more than their simplest translation. “If we have to, we bring the disk out. Jens said it makes some people sick. People like I used to be. People who are part of the OSG machine. Those affected by that disk today, if we bring it out, won’t be people who broke away and tried to forge their own lives. They’ll be true believers in the OSG realpolitik. You don’t get on the crew of a warship without being a disciple.”

  The whole idea of going up against people like that makes a shiver go up and down my spine. I feel as though I’ll be signing not only my own death warrant, but those of my crew too. I know better than anyone the power OSG officials can wield when the spirit moves them to do so. Before, my decisions only affected me. Now, they affect all these good people too. I had no idea the stress that would be put on me when I was dreaming of being the captain of a DS.

  “But what if they don’t have chips in their backs like you did?” Rollo asks. “Or what if some do and some don’t? We’ll get fried if some of them start dropping like flies and others don’t. They’ll know something’s up.”

  “I’ll worry about that when it happens.” I give him a special glare that says what I’m thinking, namely: Thanks, Rollo, for that glimpse into a possible horror show I hadn’t yet considered. “For now, leave the disk where it is. But if you hear me say the word Hallel
ujah, bring it out. Put it on the flightdeck somewhere.”

  I wait for Lucinda to nod and indicate that she understands, which she does without hesitation. Her expression is decidedly more cooperative-looking now. I hope it lasts longer than my hairstyle does this time.

  “Captain,” Adelle’s voice interrupts my next thought, “you are being contacted by the WS Baltimore.”

  “I’ll be right there.” To my crew I say, “Are we all good?”

  Everyone nods.

  “Thank you. Back to your stations.”

  “What about Rollo?” Rollo asks.

  “Rollo, you come with me.”

  We’ll see how good a bargainer this guy is. If we get into a position to negotiate and he blows it by pissing off someone on that warship, I can afford to hand him over to the OSG as payment for sins committed. If he doesn’t, I’ll let him stay. Trial by fire is the surest way to find out the measure of a person. This I know from first-hand experience.

  Chapter Thirty

  EVERYONE IS IN PLACE ON the flightdeck before I respond to the reach attempt by the WS Baltimore.

  “We ready?” I ask.

  Baebong, Rollo, and Jeffers nod, all of them staring up at the clearpanel that will soon show our caller.

  I accept the reach. “Warship Baltimore, this is Captain Cass of the DS Anarchy, we accept your reach with visual elements.”

  The clearpanel flickers and the face of a man I am familiar with appears. He’s in full battledress uniform, and he’s sporting a new scar I don’t remember seeing before. It cuts across his nose and his left cheek. Knowing him, he said no to MI because he thinks it makes him look sexy or something. He always did have a pretty high opinion of himself.

  “Captain Cass, this is Captain Terrick Overshine. Thank you for accepting our reach. Feel free to share visual element as well.”

  You wish. Easiest way to identify me, and not going to happen. “I’m having a bad hair day,” I say, locking out the visual element so it can’t be accessed by anyone. “So if you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it to voice only.”