“WE ARE NOT HIRING THAT SOCIOPATH JUST SO SHE CAN HELP US BRING BACK THE SLAVES THAT SHE HANDED OVER!”

Wow, is that a one out of a hundred scale model of a Quisek Fighter? I wonder if Tal would notice if it went mysteriously missing. It’d look great on my ship’s console. They never explicitly stated that this job covered protection of their belongings. I’ve got the perfect spot in my pack that’ll protect it from getting damaged. I just have to unscrew the stand from the table and...

SLAM.

I almost drop the model. The rusted doors jerk open, spitting sparks and stopping half-way. Tal looks at me, then their model and then sighs. I carefully put it back. They beckon me to follow them into the meeting room. Meg’s gone. A flipped table in the centre of the room is obviously her doing. Blueprints of our target litter the floor, provided by yours truly. If I’d known that this job would’ve taken more than a day then I would’ve asked for more. Trouble is: I don’t think this lot can afford to pay what they’ve already promised me.

“So you’re the infamous Tina Mayes.” I turn to the speaker who looks about as worn as this building, but still manages to look at me like I’m the dirtiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I wouldn’t say infamous. More like opportunistic. I’m hardly a threat to you and you’re uh, revolutionaries? Freedom fighters? What exactly are you again?”

“Calitrexia’s only hope for a better future.” He narrows his eyes. “And you killed five of our people. So why should we trust you?”

I laugh. Neither he nor Tal finds anything amusing. “Seriously? You’re paying me, that’s why. I cut a deal with Tal here that I wouldn’t interfere with this whole slave thing once the job’s done. I’ll even leave this planet if you want. It’s certainly not the easy score I thought it was.”

“Easy score?” he repeats, turning to Tal. “Tell me there’s another option, someone else, anyone else that we can turn to.”

“Sorry Kylan, but she’s all we’ve got.”

Kylan somehow manages to age even more before my eyes. “Under no condition is anyone else to know that she was the one who handed them over. It’ll just make things unnecessarily complicated.”

“Great, now which one of you two are going to tell your angry friend?” I ask.

*

Meg threw a chair at me. A chair! Yana would think that I deserved it. Well I’m sorry that I killed their friends, but they were the ones who shot at me first. It was self-defence. Plus, I didn’t know them, so why should I care that they’re gone? If anything they’d just be another hindrance on this job. Just like these three tagging along. It’s like they still don’t trust me to do this right. Or they want to say that they freed those poor, poor slaves. They probably want to be hailed as heroes or something.

Nobody’s selfless. At least, nobody still living is.

These three aren’t really ready for this. Kylan looks like he’s about to wilt away at any moment. Tal and Meg are decent with their disruptors, but they hardly look like the infiltration type. I doubt any of the three even understand the meaning of ‘stealth’. Meg still has in her head that we’ll be setting off massive explosions and the guards will merely understand that what we’re doing is ‘right’, so they’ll not do their jobs or fight us. Shouting cease fire today will get one of us killed, and I can’t risk letting that one be me.

“Right, so I know you all seem to hate me, but frankly, if you don’t follow my lead then you’ll get yourselves and those slaves killed. We’ll split up and take out the guards at once before they have time to react. Then Tal and Meg can cover our asses while me and Kylan bust the slaves out. Sound good?”

Tal frowns. “When you say take them out-.”

“Kill them, of course,” I answer.

They flinch. “What about stunning them instead?”

“You weren’t worried about stunning me last week.”

“You already killed our friends!” Meg yells.

I throw my hands up. “Fine, do what you want. If they recognise you and your faces end up on every screen on Calitrexia then you can deal with the consequences. If you want me to just stun them, then you better be hiding a room full of credits somewhere because I’m not risking my livelihood over your pathetic little morals.”

Meg mutters in Calitrexian irritably, but is apparently done yelling at me. Thankfully there’s no furniture out here for her to throw. This lot are lucky I haven’t left considering they’re clearly in no position to pay me. Without a deposit I’m certainly not obligated to stick around. But I gave my word and, unlike some people, I stick to it.

If I were lucky, we’d have rounded the corner to find the silver-adorned warehouse with lax security. I’m rarely lucky. Since last night, when I did my final reconnaissance, they’ve added laser turrets that look fresh off the black market, at least forty more guards, and what are undoubtedly brand new anti-cloaking motion detectors. I look to the three Calitrexians behind me and inwardly laugh as their faces struggle between forced bravery and absolute terror.

“Guess they didn’t like your attack last week,” I whisper, hoping they’ll cut their losses and go back to their shamble of a home.

“No,” Meg says, turning to me. “But you easily withstood that, so I don’t see why you can’t manage this.”

“Your one vote of confidence towards me and it’s sending me into that.”

“They won’t know Tina’s connected to us if things go bad,” Tal points out.

Kylan says something in Calitrexian, catching onto me still not knowing the language. His subordinates agree and I instantly make the mental note to learn a planet’s language before taking jobs there. Tal passes me my handgun and plasma rifle, finally trusting me with my own weapons. They refuse to make eye contact, though the message is clear. The three were expecting a suicide mission, but one with results. Clearly I’m the only one here worth sacrificing for nothing.

Well, good thing these guards probably know me from delivering the slaves.

“Hi there!” I shout, while striding towards the elegant gates.

I hear Meg swear again, but pay no mind to her, flashing my best smile at a particularly bored looking guard.

“Aren’t you that human mercenary Mr Rew was complaining about?” she asks.

“Course not, I was the other one, you know who singlehandedly fought off a gang to bring him a shipment.”

She scowls. “What’re you doing back?”

As one, the automatic turrets spin around, their heads glowing electric blue as they prepare to fire at me.

“Mr Rew wanted me to check on that shipment,” I manage to say casually.

The guard raises her rifle. “Follow me, Miss Mayes.”

I merely smile and stroll after her. They can’t know why I’m really here. There’s no need to freak out. Yana would. That’s a lie. She’s the one who taught me to be calm. That’s also a lie. She was the only one to calm me down. At least in normal cases. But I’ve got a brilliant self-preservation instinct. It’s probably my best trait. So I’ll be fine. Just breathe normally and don’t let any worries show. Easy, simple as pie. I hate that expression. Nothing about that number is simple.

The guard leads me beyond the gates and inside the building, out of sight of the turrets and past any motion detectors. Nevermind, this might actually be possible. There are far less guards inside than out, and they all look half asleep with boredom. The container with the slaves is at the end of the large room. Its walls are now transparent and I can see eight children inside: three Calitrexians, one human and four Torls.

“Kids, really?” I question.

She averts her eyes. “Hand over your weapons.”

I laugh. “Yeah, no.”

My handgun goes off before she can react, a surprised sort of expression on her face as she falls to the ground, a hole in her gut. The other guards stumble to react, sleepiness costing two of them their lives. I switch to my rifle and run towards the container while blasts of energy streak towards me. These guards can’t aim to save their lives, literally. I reach the container and take cover behind it. The outside guards stream in, leaving the only exit blatantly open. The transparent container is not helpful, however strong it may be.

Something about the look of desperate hope the kids are giving me makes me take out a quarter of the guards in ten seconds. Their cheering makes me want to vomit. Yet within a minute, only twelve or so guards are left. My plasma rifle is three seconds of firing away from running out of charge though. I don’t think I’ve got the speed for just the handgun. There’s got to be a way to get these kids out of here.

I look around and immediately spot antigrav emitters behind me among a bunch of chains and handcuffs. There’s my one stroke of luck for the decade. If I attach them to this side of the container and set them off, I’ll have both moving cover and the kids will make it out of here. I send a quick message to Tal to take care of the turrets; it’s the least those three can do. There’s no way the guards won’t notice me attaching the emitters, but hopefully they’ll just think I’m crazy. I’ve been occasionally told that I look it.

The guards take the opportunity to regroup and actually act tactically, but by the time they spread out I’ve got everything set. Yana always said I should’ve given up being a mercenary for mechanics; I like the money too much. I give the container a rough shove and set off behind it. The guards know just how explosive these emitters are and don’t take risky shots. I take advantage of their hesitance. One by one, the guards fall, the others getting more and more scared, until the remaining five run for it.

Three explosions illuminate our exit, each turret crashing into the ground with a volume that’s sure to alert local authorities. Kylan, Tal and Meg rush through the open gates and light up on seeing the kids, literally; Calitrexians’ eyes glow when they’re excited. None of them waste time opening the container and freeing the kids, only Tal throwing me a thankful look. Meg seems determined to act like I don’t exist and Kylan appears to be busy hugging what are undoubtedly his grandchildren. Ha! I knew this lot had ulterior motives.

Tal awkwardly walks over to me, a Torl child attached to his leg. “I think we should talk about your uh-.”

I smirk. “I’ve already got my payment.”

“Yeah!” the kid says, beaming up at me. “She’s a hero; she doesn’t need anything more than our gratitude.”

Tal gives me a pointed look and I simply smile and walk away, forcing my mouth to stay uncharacteristically closed. I’m sure those three will be fine getting eight kids away before enforcers swarm the area in a minute or so.

*

The bluish light from Calitrexia’s three moons glints on the newly secured Quisek Fighter model on my navigation console and I laugh to myself. That kid really must have lost his mind. Me, a hero? I couldn’t think of anything further from the truth.