There was nothing that enough money couldn't fix.

That was one of Niev's favorite sayings, one that was fading quickly to the background as he listened to the driller's job request over and over again. And then a few more times to make sure he was hearing things right.

Finally, he forced himself to step away from the telephone, walking over to the couch and sweeping the piles of junk atop it to the floor. Settling down on the creaky, stained cushions in a way that he knew would avoid uncomfortable springs, Niev wiped a hand over his face, groaning.

Apparently, he was going into a war zone. Not just any war zone, though. The mother of all war zones.

Apoxia III.

After a quick info search on the ship's database, Niev had confirmed what he was hoping were made-up facts living only in his mind.

Nope. What he remembered about the planetary system was true.

There were four planets in the system, all of them at war with each other and themselves for the past two centuries. Lately, things had spiraled out of control in a major way. Horrific war crimes were taking the media by storm - not that Niev would have noticed any of that. He tended to shoot people, drink, and pass out in inopportune places.

It made him money, though, and he wasn't complaining.

The four planets were marked as some of the most dangerous places in the entire known galaxy, if not flat-out the most dangerous.

So that was comforting.

And Niev's mission?

Oh, it wasn't to save some civilians or fight for one planet or even kill a military official.

No, Niev's job was nothing less than kidnapping the prince of the planet Buphis.

Hoping that perhaps this was the losing planet and this mission would be far easier than anticipated, Niev spent the morning (he had confirmed the time far too late after waking up) reading up on Buphis. As much of a disaster as he was, he could really pull it together for a mission. It was part of the reason he got recurring customers like driller guy.

But then again, sometimes recurring customers weren't the best. Especially when said recurring customers demanded silly things like contracts that you may or may not have signed while still partially drunk from an amazing party the night before so you didn't bother reading the fine print, only to find out days later that the contract had basically been a "no backsies" certificate that prohibited you from leaving missions once accepted.

The long and short of this was: Niev was going to one Buphis and kidnapping one prince.

Remember the money, he chanted in his head as he returned to his telephone, gram in hand, filled with notes. Remember the money, remember the money.

The phone only rang twice before getting picked up. A calm, even voice drifted over the line. "Hello, this is Adron. I am a robotic assistant programmed to help with daily tasks. Unfortunately, my owner is away from the phone at the moment, but I would be happy to take any messages - "

"Adron, it's me."

A pause. "Who is this, may I ask?"

"It's Niev."

A crackling sigh came through the phone. "Oh, thank the merciful heavens. You know, every time I do that greeting, I throw up a little bit in my mouth? Robots don't even have stomachs, and I still throw up. Although I don't have a mouth, either, now that I think about it..."

"I get it, you hate being a robotic slave to some spoiled kid," Niev interrupted impatiently. "Wanna get away for a little bit?"

"You couldn't have called at a better time. I'm home alone for the next three weeks."

"Adron, that's great! Listen, this mission...isn't like anything we've done before."

"I'm counting on it."

"No, you might want to hear the details before you - "

"Niev, my options are: get on your garbage fire of a spaceship" - Niev wrinkled his nose at the insult - "and take my chances with the worst this galaxy has to offer, or continue acting like a glorified receptionist for a bratty teenage girl who is currently tanning somewhere close enough to the sun that I hope she burns to ash. You could tell me we are delving into the fiery pits themselves and I would ask you when you want me to jump."

"Adron, you're my best friend."

"I know." A harsh beeping in Niev's ear told him Adron was gone.

He doubted he'd have much luck with any of his other crew members, but he knew he had to try. Maybe I can trick them into coming...he thought as the line rang.

Finally, someone picked up. "I'm with a client right now, darling. Whatever your guy's paying, he'd better double what my guy is."

"I can promise you he at least quadrupled it."

There was silence on the other end. Arkin was a very successful prostitute - quadruple anything he made was such an outlandish amount of money that Niev could hardly believe his own claim.

"You're joking," Arkin finally replied.

"Not at all. Just trust me, it's more money than you'll know what to do with."

"Oh, I have a few ideas already," Arkin purred, and Niev could practically hear the man's grin through the phone.

"I should have known you would," he replied, his own grin splitting his face. "Adron's already on board."

"Where are you taking us this time?"

"I'm not so sure I want to share that part."

"Afraid I'll chicken out? You know I'm the best archer in the galaxy. Nothing's gonna scare me off."

"Apoxia III."

A long, long silence. Then, "Oh."

"So you're out?" Niev inserted a little challenge into his voice - he had been around Arkin long enough to know what would press his buttons.

Not those buttons, of course. Their relationship had always been strictly platonic.

"Of course I'm not out," Arkin replied sharply. "Let me finish with this customer. I'll cancel my other bookings."

"Don't bother. I don't want you to lose all that money. Let me know when I can stop by. After all, I have to go pick up everyone else," Niev reminded his friend.

"Oh, yes. Thanks for understanding. Now, I really have to go. He's getting antsy." The phone call dropped dead and Niev sighed, rolling his head around on his shoulders.

Two down, one to go.