Torline, the only planet in this sector with a job. And it’s for some doctor. If I didn’t need the credits to fix my ship’s lightspeed drive, I’d be long gone. I certainly wouldn’t be walking through the poorest city on this entire planet, trying to find some clinic for sick kids. This woman better have the money we agreed on or I’m going to have to work for some mechanic until someone else on this rock needs a mercenary.

At least the enforcers on this planet aren’t too bad. Not one of them has pulled me up on looking suspicious. Then again, half the people in this city are armed. I passed a gang war or three on my way from the shipyard. Plus, I haven’t broken the law in at least a week. I was too busy trying to fix my ship. Who’d have thought that a year-old heavy fighter would already be falling apart?

Well, probably the cheap-ass smuggler who sold it to me.

I’m pretty sure the clinic is on this street. Here I was thinking doctors liked keeping their practices clean. Even the white grass sticking out in clumps is dusty on this street. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just wants me to clean the place. It’s not every day that I agree to a price before knowing the job, but I was getting kind of desperate. I seriously doubt this doctor chic would be able to pay me any more.

Her clinic’s sign is actually falling off its hinges. It’s written in Torl, so I don’t know what it’s meant to say, but I’m certain it’s missing at least four characters. The building itself looks like it might fall over if there was a strong enough gust of wind. I doubt it’s got more than three rooms from the size. And worse of all, there are kids running around everywhere outside of it.

Inside is so much worse. There are grimy little things climbing over the chairs and squealing like they’re trying to burst my ear drums. Okay, so maybe they’re kids, but that doesn’t mean they can just shove me aside like I’m a piece of furniture. The one good thing about Earth was that people didn’t shove other people with a plasma rifle strapped to their back. This lot are way too desensitised for my liking. I’m not about to hurt a kid but they don’t know that. Then again, even if I did retaliate, I don’t think it’s possible to add more blood to the floors.

“Isn’t this place meant to be sterile?” I ask.

“Well excuse me if I only have time to keep the operating room properly clean. I certainly don’t see you volunteering to grab a bucket and cloth.”

I glance up and bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. A Torl woman, no doubt the doctor running this place, is standing with her hands on her hips, impossibly curly copper hair trying to escape its pony tail, and silver eyes narrowed in what’s clearly meant to be a fierce glare directed at me. I just can’t take her seriously when there are three kids attached to her legs and she’s barely able to stop herself from falling over while they swing themselves around.

“That depends on what you’re willing to pay me.”

She frowns. “You’re that mercenary, aren’t you?”

“Tina Mayes, at your service.”

“You’re late.” With that, she turns and strides away, surprisingly graceful for someone with now four kids attached to her legs.

I follow her into what I assume is her office, mainly because there isn’t an operating table and there aren’t any kids running around inside. Then again, it could be a closet. It’s not much bigger than a standard walk-in. The doctor detaches the kids from her legs and sends them back to the waiting room. She glares at me and sits behind her desk, gesturing to the rickety chair on the other side. I’d rather stand. That glare has gotten a little more intimidating without the kids around though. I sit.

“I’m Doctor Yana Zale, paediatrician, and you Valentina Mayes were meant to be here yesterday.”

“It’s Tina and hardly my fault that your clinic was so hard to find.”

She folds her arms. “I gave you directions from the nearest shipyard.”

“And it’s my first time on Torline, so half those directions didn’t make sense.”

“Why take the job if you’re not used to the planet?”

“It’s the only one in the sector and I need the credits.”

Yana relaxes. “I can understand that,” she says. “Honestly, I only hired you because you’re cheaper than the technician from the capital. I won’t be asking you to go take out some thugs or anything like that. Most of my heavy equipment got fried in a storm last week from a power surge. I need you to fix it. So if that’s not the kind of job you want then tell me now. I have patients to see.”

“You mean like that sign that’s close to falling and knocking someone out?”

“That’s been like that for months. The kids are taking bets on when it’ll drop. The winner will end up with at least twenty lollypops.”

“I’m surprised one of their parents hasn’t had something to say about that.”

Yana frowns. “Most of these kids don’t have parents. I’m their unofficial guardian.”

“But you can’t be older than twenty. How’d you get stuck with them?”

“I’m not stuck with them. My clinic is a safe place and they’re all welcome, whether they’re sick, injured or not. And I really do have to get back out there. If you’re taking the job, there’s a list of things that need to be repaired on my desk.” She stands. “If you clean the waiting room, I’ll throw in a lollypop.”

Yana leaves me in her office, staring blankly at where she was sitting. It’s been a long, long time since I last met someone genuinely good. I think I might have to charge her half the agreed on payment. Maybe once I’ve finished this job, there’ll be another so I can afford the repairs. I guess Torline can put up with me for a little longer.