Ruined. He was ruined. Ricky was a gun for hire, though admittedly not the best around. But now, he'd reached an all time low. A job gone horribly wrong, unnecessary deaths, and his best employer very unimpressed. Not to mention the massive debt of one billion credits he now had to pay in one years time. Rick let out a long sigh and lifted his head from the bar to look around. He was currently sitting in the bar of a space station orbiting Polaris IV, the latest target of the intergalactic gold rush. Plenty of other species besides humans were seated around the bar, conversing, drinking, or gambling. Ricky swore. From the half hour he'd been here, it didn't look like he'd be finding a job here. He should probably checks somewhere, but first a smoke break. He dug into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his pants and lit it. Something squeaked from his lap, and he leaned back to look down at the long white rodent in his lap. Patches the ferret was looking up at his owner with a disapproving look. Really, Ricky shouldn't be smoking. He'd been trying to quit for a long time, but after the loss of his only steady gig and the massive debt looming over him, he'd picked up the habit again. "It's okay buddy, when I'm done I'm sure we can pay for a system cleaning," he mumbled to the ferret as he pet it, knowing damn well that he couldn't spare the credits. One billion credits was a lot to make in one year.