If you loved watching Ichabod Drift and the crew of the Keiko take a shady transport job, get double‑crossed, and scramble through an improvised payback plan, you’ll click with Jazz Bashara’s moon‑base caper in Artemis. The heist keeps mutating as the stakes rise, the tech constraints (EVA routes, airlocks, pressure suits) shape every move, and the snarky voice and clever problem‑solving echo the way the Keiko crew outthink tight corners.

Part of the fun in Dark Run is hanging with Drift’s whole Keiko crew—each person indispensable when a deal turns messy. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet delivers that same pleasure: you’ll get to know Rosemary, Sissix, Kizzy, Jenks, and the rest as they weld pipes, argue over meals, and face down danger together. It’s that satisfying sense that every seat on the ship matters and the banter is half the fuel.

If the heart of Dark Run for you was how Drift’s misfit crew on the Keiko becomes a real family—standing up after a betrayal and watching each other’s backs—then you’ll love the crew of the Capricious. When con artist Boots Elsworth and racer Nilah Brio get dragged aboard, the jobs get hotter, loyalties get tested, and that same "we choose each other" vibe powers the firefights and treasure hunts.

Ichabod Drift isn’t a boy scout—he’ll bend laws and deals to protect his people and come out on top. If that roguish edge hooked you, meet Slippery Jim DiGriz in The Stainless Steel Rat. He’s a master con artist who treats the galaxy like a puzzle to outwit, slipping through traps, flipping double‑crosses, and living by a code as flexible—and fun—as Drift’s.

From bar brawls to orbital ambushes to the final revenge push, Dark Run barely lets you breathe. Leviathan Wakes hits that same throttle: the Rocinante’s crew jump from a derelict’s mystery to system‑wide conspiracies, dodging corporate hit squads and military blockades. If you enjoyed how the Keiko’s crew keeps moving, improvising, and surviving as the stakes explode, this will scratch that itch.