"I want you to find out who is dealing and let them know that the price of dealing on our turf is %50 NET. Anyone failing to pay the price once get's roughed up"

Nick gnaws on a drumstick, then puts the bucket in his fridge.

"All right, man. I'll get on that now.", Nick says. Then he goes downstairs, puts on his armored jacket and holsters his Warhawk full of EX ammo, and some extra bullets in his belt.

"Oh yeah, Mickey, I'll go with you.", he says coming back up the stairs, cycle helmet in tow.

Nick listens with some interest to the hookers talking about their pimps.

"What, you want us to cack 'em? I can do that. I fuckin' hate pimps. Hey uh, do you of any BTL dealers around? I gotta cut a deal with them. My name's Nick, by the way.", he cuts in, then notices the cigarettes.

"Hey, can I bum one of those?"

Realizing a reunion between old friends, Gent finds a spot in the yard of Edger HQ and sits himself down for a bit of a wait.

Taking the time to look about, he takes in the various goings on at the house, sort of smiling to himself as he does so.

Mickey looks at the older woman, considering her statement. Then he looks over at Nick. He bows to the older woman, a slightly deeper bow, since she seems to be the go to gal, showing a little respects to her, too. "Hmmm. We might just have to get our hands dirty on this one." He looks back to the older woman, then at the rest of the girls. "Well, why don't we try this then. I'd like to know your name, please, young lady. How many of you work under the same pimp. Let's have you all get together in little teams so I can get an idea just how many pimps we'll be dealing with. Then we'll get names and where they hang out. Faith, ladies...soon you shall all be a part of the Bleeding Edge family. As a gesture of good will,a few of the boys and I will begin watching over you tonight. And if your see a young lady by the name of Tabitha who wears the bandana around her ankle, she's one of ours." He smiles and looks over at Nick. "Nick, once we know their pimps, we'll be able to know more about the chips and drugs. Let's keep it to one thing at a time, hmm?"

Nick sniffs the air a bit and looks at Mickey.

"Yeah. The chips can wait. Indeed girls, what can you tell us about these pimps of yours?", Nick says. Then he looks around to make sure no one is looking, and pulls out his Warhawk, making sure the heavy revolver is loaded, then he replaces it.

Blitz considers a long moment, and grunts.

`I ain't the brains 'round here... Pain'll atest to that. We're a bit low, but Ghost'll fill you's in.`

He gestures for them to follow, leading back to the main doss. He checks the sentries while he's at it. He isn't smart, but he knows combat, and he knows weakness. They aren't needing to look weak right now. He brings the pair of new arrivals before Ghost, introducing them, then he steps back to wait for further orders.

It looks like, out of the 20-30 girls here, most of them operate under 5 pimps.

There are 4 nice little clusters of 4, and 5 scattered ones.

The first cluster introduces itself.

There is a strung out bag of skin and bones named Samantha, a large, heavily tattooed black woman named Jasmine, a run of the mill ork hooker named Jenna, and a shy-looking 14-year-old named Yammi.

Samantha steps forward for them, after discussing it among themselves. "We work under a nasty son of a slitch by the name of Teng. He's got this nasty thing with machines. He's usually placing bets over at Skags."

The next group are all red-heads. Two of them, twins, introduce themselves as Megan and Mags. They speak with an irish lilt. Actually, all four of them do. The next one, an ork, introduces herself as Betty, and the last one, a tattooed punk with some major injuries, introduces herself as Jennifer.

Jennifer steps forwards, "We're under our cousin Mickey. He dragged the whole family over when the elves took Ireland. He runs the whole family and won't let anyone go. We're over in Singleton Estates. 614. We also have a deal to make. I've been outfitted with a cranial bomb, and Mickey has the detonator. Deliver it to me, and instead of making you a little on my back, I'll carve out a path o' destruction ten miles wide for you guys whenever you want."

After that, there's a bevy of orkish ladies, introducing themselves as Spiller, Woman, Cigarette, and Cinderlla. They reveal their pimp to be a woman named Jones. He differs very little from the average barrens dweller, and spends most of his time at Merciless Mings.

The next 4 are exotics. They are as high-class this part of town sees. They are heavily cybered to resemble things that don't exist in nature, except for SURGE. There is two cat-women, named Kitty and Barbie, respectivly, what was once a Troll that now looks like a Rhino named Smokey, and a green-skinned plant-woman named Liz. Liz speaks for them, "We are arranged for privatly through Doctor Zhivago. The only reason we're allowed to come here is to try and recruit more girls. We're not sure where we live, somewhere underground. He picks us up and drops us off, and we can't see outside the car."

The last 5 include the first woman who spoke, and 4 other random ladies-of-the night. "We're independants, and we've decided to take you up on your offer," she introduces each, "I'm Mattie, this is Leslie (a tired-looking ork woman), Julia (a korean girl, about 17), Mariette (a dark haired woman with a cigarette), and Yellow (a one-armed Amerind woman.)"

Nick shakes his head when he hears of the one pimp and Merciless Ming's.

"Trash like that's got no business in my favorite hangout. I'll geek 'er myself. When we get to Ming's, Mickey, you wait outside.", Nick says, adjusting his chain necklace so the padlock clasp faces forward.

"This Jones...she an Ork, like you?"

As Blitz presents them to the new boss, a small smile forms in Painkiller's face.

Well, at least Ghost's in charge.

"Yo, chummer. Long time no see..."

Painkiller gives him a hug, then remembers he should show some more respect to the leader.

"Blitz told me the news, both the good and the bad. I know I've been... away for a while, but if you need me, I'll stay."

"Yeah, he's one of the regulars there. He's an ork alright. He's the kind that makes the rest of us look bad. He's the fraggin worst kind."

She ponders a second.

"Get rid of him, and I'll be yours to the end. I'll even see what I can do about getting you more."

As each group tells their tale, Mickey listens intently, responding to each in turn at the end of their tale and getting as detailed a description as he can from each.

To Samantha, he says, "Teng. Machines. Interesting. Well, it doesn't sound like something we can't handle."

Tho Jennifer, he says, "Hmmm. That's pretty sophisticated. I'll need additional information on Mickey. He sounds like a real player. Stay right here. I'll get back to you."

To the orks, he nods and says, "I think this Jones woman is not long for this world. Nick here generally follows through on what he says. Nick, I have no intention of staying outside. I have great faith in your ability to do the job, but you never know when some little punk will take the side of a regular and get in a lucky shot. You're an Edger, so I've got your back. I will let you run solo in this if you wish and merely enjoy the scene until someone decides to be an idiot, though."

To Liz he grins ruefully. "I'll be straight with you, Liz. I'll look into this Doctor Zhivago. He sounds like someone I need to know more about...who he's connected to and who might come to avenge him. My offer still stands, but I may have to take care of him last. However, I have officially put an end to any real recruiting. I'll let you recruit a token here and there to keep him from getting suspicious and with the understanding that if they run with you, they join us once liberated."

Tho the independants, he hands each one a bandana. "An excellent choice, ladies. Wear these with pride. If any of you have any real health concerns...if your injured or sick, the Edgers will see about a street doc for you." He looks over to Jennifer and says, "You look like you could use one. Shall I make an appointment for you?" After she answers, he turns back to the nerwly bandana'd Bleeding Edge breeders. "Outside you will see 3 Edgers. One on either end of the stroll and one in the center on a motorcycle. Let's go introduce you all to them. Tonight you have a night off. You'll be taken to our doss and have a night to get to know some of us and meet Ghost. I'll be back there after Nick and I go see about this Jones woman for our orkish ladies." He pulls out his cellphone and dials up Ghost, letting him know the score so far: 6 new girls, more on the way. He asked for a couple more to escort them to meet and that he'd given them the night off. Next he let's the Edger on the cycle know to go get their first recruit and bring her to meet these 5 so they can be escorted...visibly! Let everyone see who they were with now.

Finally, he gets back to Jennifer. "A cortex bomb, hmm? Are you a former soldier? Are you all soldiers? I get the impression Mickey is going to be a tough, yet entirely crackable nut. Keep our deal hush-hush. You too, Liz. We'll deal with the easy's first and work our way up."

After all is said and ready to go, he gives Nick a nod. "How many can we take care of in 1 night? I bet we can deal with both Jones and Teng. Shall we?"

Nick nods at Mickey.

"I think we can get two of 'em today.", Nick says, swinging his leg over Dream Shredder, and revving up the engine. "Get on. We'll go to Ming's first, and see if that Jones is there."

Once Mickey gets on, Nick says "Hold on." And drives off full speed to Ming's, stopping in front of the bar. Nick says to Mickey "Wait here a spot. I'm gonna go ask Ming about 'er.", Nick says, pushing open the swinging door. Then he walks up to the bar, and takes his usual seat.

"Oi Ming! Pint of the regular. Oh and-" Nick leans in close and asks in a low voice. "I don't suppose I can geek someone in here? If not, I'll just wait for them to get outside."

Mickey looks at Nick with that semi-vacant stare. "I told you before, I'm going in too. Someone should watch your back." He followed Nick in, letting him take the lead while he faded into the background and remained vigiliant. Time to blend in. He searched discreetly for their target while Nick chatted up the bartender while keeping his other eye out for other threats or opportunities...after all, there was a recruitment drive going on.

Ming raises an eyebrow, "I don't know, meng. There's the Screamers vs. the Predators on the tube, an' we're pretty full up. I don't want everybody decidin' it's better to be somewhere else, y'know? Maybe you should take 'em outside. You can go out back, iffn ye want."

There doesn't seem to be anyone here that stands out as anything but a street tough or a blue-collar type enjoying a beer after work. There are large, crowded tables, filled with raucous laughter, and huge mugs of beer everywhere.

"Alright Ming. I respect that.", Nick says, finishing his drink. "On a completely unrelated note, is an Ork by the name of Jones here tonight? My associate and I need to talk with him."

Ming runs a hand over his bald head. "Jones spends alot o' money here. I'd better see some return outta you an' the rest of your crew. She's the loud one in the corner with a plaid work-jacket and the white shirt."

Sure enough, over in one corner is a wide-framed, butch woman with fists the size of your head. She's laughing at the instant replay in which a Predator accidentally pops the Screamer medic, earning him a penalty. He mouth is full of pretzels, although it's emptying all over everything around her as she noisily and messily eats them. She's at a table of about seven guys, all of them large, and most of them orks.

Nick slots his credstick for the drink. "Thanks Ming. I owe you another one. Don't worry about the money. We'll match whatever she had." he says, rising up from his seat. Then he quietly approaches Mickey.

"Oi Mickey. Found 'er. She's the large one in the corner, with the several equally large guys. How do you want to do this? We'll have to get her outside the bar first, which just complicates things.", Nick tells him, in a hushed voice.

Mickey smiles as he looks over at Jones...a frighteningly passionate, wicked grin. He turns back to Nick and says, "Oh, I think it's going to hit the fan, regardless of how we approach it. It depends on how important it is to get her outside. I imagine you want to be able to return here, right? Why don't we send a few pitchers over ot her table, let her get drunk as hell, then take care of business after the brawl game? Sound good?."

"Sounds pretty good. We'll have to take 'em out fast, though. All I have is a revolver, and I don't know what you've got. Regardless, you and I are pretty good shots. And I think a .44 EX round to the head would take down an ork. Although, how will we explain the pitchers? She's probably not stupid enough to drink random unexplained beer.", Nick says to Mickey. Then he looks past Mickey, his eyes unfocused in thought a second.

"I'm in pretty good with Ming. He'll look the other way. Maybe if we just shadowed her, we could doubletap them in the back of the heads as they leave. You're right about this being hard. Now's a good time to put stock in solipsism.", Nick adds, referencing his knowledge of philosophy.

"Uh...soliwhat?" Mickey's trigger finger twitches and he moves on. "I got a pred and 12 rounds in it. 2 spare full clips. And 2 good hands that swing a mean wrench. Once she leaves, we do it. We just have to be patient."

Nick coughs and says "Solipsism...the theory that the self is the only true thing. Like, I know I exist, how do I know you do? So, if Solipsism is true, we are unkillable..." he trails off. "Damn! I forgot my knife. At least I still have my bass knuckles, though." Nick goes and sits down in a table/booth with direct line of sight to Jones, and waits for Mickey to join him, so they can discuss this further.

"Looks like a long wait. Brawl games take way too long."

Mickey joins Nick and keeps an eye on Jones and the game, waiting for opportunity and ordering a vodk...a shirley temple! "Mumblegrumble mumblegrumble...Stupid no alcohol resolution... Mumblegrumble mumblegrumble!" Perhaps that resolution could start tomorrow...

"Man, Mickey, why don't you drink? Life's too short to make resolutions.", he says, ordering another drink.

"As Socrates would say, only the smart among us are not booted around by fate", he adds as he eyes Jones's table again. "I say we take her down, then run like the wind, and regroup back at the doss. We're both pretty fast. I'm sure we can outrun some Orks. They all look like they have too much muscle to run quickly."

Eventually, after many drinks, the game ends. Screamers 3-2.

Every sticks around for a few more drinks and then the place starts to clear out. People begin to stumble home, including Jones. She gets up, falls back into her seat, stands up again, and begins to hobble out. Most of her friends have left my this time, and only one accompanies her. It's what was the only human at the table. They begin to stagger out the door and down the street.

Kake walked over to Blitz after noting that none who he pointed at seemed to respond. Maybe they just needed time to relax.

"'Ey, omae, wanna come get some bus-ee-ness guys to follow us now dat da Losers are gone? Eider dey wid us, or dey dead. Jus' don' kill 'em yet. Let Ghost talk ta 'em if dey don' like our prop-o-sician."

Nick stands up and says "Go time, Mickey. I'll get her, you get him.", zipping up his jacket. He opens the door, and pulls out his Warhawk as he steps outside, following her for a bit. Checking to make sure no one's around, he raises the pistol to his shoulder, puts the laser beam on the back of her head, takes careful aim, and squeezes off a shot, hoping to splatter her on the pavement.

Mickey looks at Nick with his half vacant eyes and responds in a near monotone. "Because the last time I got drunk noone was able to watch over Prometheus."

As the game ends, he nods when Nick says it's time and stands, following them with the big guy. Once out the door, the predator is in his hands. He wastes no time at all with such niceties as picking a specific point. He goes for center mass, firing 2 quick rounds into the back of Jones' companion. There's 2 more bullets gone. He'd better get his hands on some more real soon!

Jones and her buddy Timone had just been walking home after a game of brawl. I mean, sure they were drunk, and Jones did have a bit of reputation, but Timone never thought it was something someone would kack her over. Jones never thought so either. But one second, they're talking about saving up to go buy tickets to Screamers vs. Tombstones in a month, and then, well, it came down to screaming and tombstones.

Timone noticed that a fine red mist had formed in front of Jones' face for a split-second before burning pain seared itself into his back. In instants, he was cold, and found it hard to breath. He could only let out ragged sobs in his attempts to scream, the pavement cold against the side of his face, curled up in the fetal position. He fought to inhale and exhale, and he suddenly realized that he should've gone to church, like his Grandmother had alwayse told him to do. While he was at it, he hoped that whoever ended his friends life had no reason to end his.

Mickey watched Jones' pal hit the ground...he saw Jones' head was all but gone! Nick must have been packing explosive ammo! Damn! He heard Timone gasping...still alive! Damn. He was losing his touch. Maybe he should have had that drink after all. He got ready to finish him, then thought again. He's allready gone through a lot of bullets lately. Jones was done and that was what they were there for. No real need to waste another round on an incedental. All in all, a fine pre-emptive strike on Renraku..!

"Time to go," he said to Nick while he put his gun away. He walked away...seeming not too worried. Running would draw too much attention...and might make Nick look worse. That wouldn't be fair.

Widow, having since gone home to leave Nick and Mikey to their work, saunters up to Ghost. Her pistols are on her hips, and the tattoos on her arms are full displayed, as usual.

"So, boss. I got a nephew found himself in a spot o' trouble. He fights, back rooms and stuff, to earn his living. Seems he awakened in the middle of a fight. Everyone seems to think he was masking the whole time and he's a cheater. So, he grabbed a friend and they hi-tailed from Pallyup and looked me up. I figure the both of them are more than men enough to join up, if you'll have 'em."

She shuffles her feet a bit.

"They're waiting outside."

He gets this big toothy grin on his face, and looks to Kake.

`Lean on 'em, eh. Offer protection. I get ya. We'll need to wait 'til morning, when they's open, I'm fer it tho.`

He'd be able to crack a few skulls then, always liked that.

Nick smiles with a sense of satisfaction as he sees Jones's head explode, then the other one go down from two shots in the back, then writhe on the pavement in pain.

"Man, she went down like JFK.", Nick remarks. He lingers a bit as Mickey walks away, then rolls the headless corpse of Jones into the gutter with his foot. Crouching down, he places his hand on the living one's back.

"Consider yourself lucky. You'll live.", he says, showing rare emotion. Then he walks into Ming's, and says,

"Hey Ming, theres a guy bleeding outside. Maybe you should call the DocWagon, or something." After that, he heads off after Mickey.

He lets Nick catch up, then takes a roundabout route back to the Bleeding Edge's doss. "Well, Nick, that's one down, three to go. Next up is Teng. We're up 10 hookers today. Not a bad day's work, hmmm? Let's go back to HQ and check in, let Ghost know what's going on. Also, I'd like to see if that cyberarm we salvaged might fit Yellow...that one armed amerind we recruited." He's chomping at the bit to spray his victory sign! The world needs to know when Renraku is stopped for another day. Hanging around would have been too risky though. He'd have to go back tomorrow and mark the spot. With a little luck, he could do it right over a tape outline of Jones!

After about an hour, they're back at HQ. "Ghost, I've returned. Ladies, Jones is no longer an issue for you."

He sits down on the couch, covering the mouthpice with his hand over his mouth...so the noise of the room would not ruin the sound. He gives a call to Dr. Karl Mallus...his street doc contact.

"Hey, doc, it's me, Mickey. Got a question for ya and maybe some biz...a few "friends" of mine that might need regular checkups. Anyway, here's the question. A guy named Teng...classic pimp, but with a twist. He's got chrome and lots of it. I was wondering if you or anyone you know might know just what he's got and what I may be dealing with? Any info you can gimme would be good!"

"Yeah, I could probably look at 'em every once in a while. Not free, mind. You're a friend, but I gots ta eat."

"Hmm... Teng... yeah, I remeber him a couple years back. He doesn't actually live around here. He just does all his business here. When he went under my knife, he didn't actually have much real chrome. At that point, everything was just for show. I gave him dermal implants to make his hand look chrome, and pretty to boot. I guess he wasn't pleased, though, cause he never came back to me after that."

Bruised, who'd kept track of which girls were where, went to go tell them the news. All the girls are out working at the moment. There are two guys standing around in the front room. One is a well-muscled, tattooed kid. He stands about 6'3", and looks a little sheepish. The other is an ork, about 5'8", dressed in red and black mostly. His pants and jacket are canvas, kinda like firefighters wear. He's covered in scorch-marks and smells a bit like sulphur.

"Well, of course not for free. That's why I said biz. Anyway, if you can discreetly put out the word, I'd be interested in knowing what he's got. Get back to me, allright?"

He put his phone away and took a look at the 2 guys in the place that he didn't know. "Good evening gentlemen. I do not believe we have met."

The tattooed one looks up from his worn shoes to Mikey's face. His eyes are an icy blue-green. "Hi, I'm Bishop. Umm... I'm Widows nephew. She said you guys might have some room for me and my friend Diablo here. She's just inside talking to.... umm.... Ghost?"

"Bishop. Widow's nephew." His response is almost an echo as his vacant eyes stare through the boy. He turns to the ork and says, "And you?" His trigger finger twitches...noone told him new arrivals were coming! Darned inconsiderate of them all!

The ork looks up at Mickey. "Umm... I'm James. Everybody calls me Diablo, though, cause of the fire. Um... we could leave, if this is a problem."

Bishop elbows his friend in the ribs and gives him a dirty look. "Widow said it'd be cool for us to be here. She's talking to the big man right now."

Nick nods at the two new guys, but doesn't talk to them. After that, he goes and checks out the bike he stole, and Techie's bike, and his own bike, the Dream Shredder, performing minor repairs and checkups on the three of them.

"I suppose Painkiller will want his brother's bike...", Nick muses, as he wipes some dust off the bike and tightens a few bolts. Then he puts his tools away, wipes the grease off his hands, and goes downstairs to his bunk. He pulls his Warhawk out, and removes the spent shell, then replaces it with a new bullet. He puts the heavy revolver back in the beaten Ares duffel bag under his bed, and puts the bullets in his belt back in the wooden box labeled ".44 magnum shells".

"I hope my PO doesn't ask if I've shot anyone lately...man that would suck.", Nick thinks out loud. Then, suddenly remembering, he pulls the Cyberdeck he found out of the bag, and runs upstairs.

"Here Mickey. I liberated this for you. See what you can do about my police record, would you? Ah, you guys are new recruits, no? Good luck with that.", then runs back downstairs, stripping of his jacket and shirt in the process. Once downstairs, he plugs his guitar in and slings it across his shoulder, turns up his amp, and begins to play.

Kake woke up, yawning in his truck, as per usual. This time he was a little more sore, but that's probably just from the fighting and overall chaos of last night. He sits up and begins putting his stuff on. Armor first, a few loose things like clips along his belt. He attempted once more to attach the Gas Vent IV and Shock Pads to the SMG, followed by the Silencer on his PredIII. He glanced at the other two PredIIIs sitting next to his bed, already emptied of ammo and anything of some value. Maybe he could sell them... Trade them for something from an Edger... Something besides let them sit.

Kake stood up and opened the side door, hopped out, shut the door, and walked towards the main Edger building. He went straight for Blitz's room and knocked.

"'Ey, omae, let's go! We gots some work ta do!"

Mickey looks at the precious deck with bulging eyes! He takes it and looks it over The old fuchi design, relabelled by Novatech. "Well, I'll just wait here untill Widow or Ghost comes out and keep an eye on you two." Oh, he wanted to go check the thing out, see what programs it had! He wasn't the best at computers, but he was probably the best of this motley crew! He sits down and looks vacantly at the two recruits, his unnerving gaze never wavering.

Blitz wasn't in the room, one of the new guys was, but the guy had been told where to find him, well sort of.

`Big freakin' troll right? Said he'd be in the room with the troll bed over at the old Loser place. Whatever that means.`

When Kake heads over, he'll eventually find Blitz passed out on top of a king sized bed, in just a pair of boxers with little hearts on them. He grumbles when the sound of a voice rouses him.

`One more minute mom, I just about got zat daisy eater...`

He grunts and blinks, rolling to his feet.

`Mornin' already? Less go then.`

He grabs up yesterday's clothes and starts to dress, tucking the Deputy into his belt, and hanging the chain.

`Where we hittin' anyway?`

"Well, how 'bout dat A-1 Con-veen-yance? Mebbe dey'll give us summin' fer free outta respect..."

Kake turned and began walking outside, and then towards the convenient store, barely waiting for Blitz to follow.

As Blitz and Kake are leaving the HQ, Painkiller joins them.

"Seems Ghost will be busy with the new recruits, at least for the moment."

Pain puts a mean looking Shock Glove in his hand.

"Do you think they'll get the message..." -says while checking his Predator II is loaded- ...or will we need to speak louder?"

"Ghost wants us ta be proper. If dey's got a problem, let 'em talk ta Ghost, so ka?"

"No problemo, smooth's OK. Let's do it fast then. The more people know we're in charge of this turf, the better."

Nick pauses playing for a bit, while Ghost addresses him from upstairs. He looks up the stairs.

"Mickey and I are in charge of the hookers? Cool. Man, and my ex-girlfriend said I'd never amount to anything...", he says with a smile. Then he wipes some sweat off his forehead, turns his amp up even more, and begins playing his guitar faster and harder.

Mickey nods at the official proclamation of duty, taking it as his due. "Well, now all I need is some more bullets. By the way, Ghost, how much will Nick and my take be from the proceeds os the prostitutes? Assuming say...each prostitute likely making about $300.00 on an average night...basing that on $50-100.00 a pop and 5 or 6 customers a night, making us a nice $750.00 a night, I think 10% for each of us is fair, don't you? That leaves $3000.00 a week just with the 10 we have now, accounting for off nights and a reasonable margin of error."

He doesn't know how good at math Ghost is, but he hopes his use of numbers is clear and solid enough, yet vague enough that he goes for it. It wasn't unreasonable anyway. After all, he and Nick deserved a cut for their new responsibility.

"By, the way, Nick, thank you for the deck. I'll see what I can do, but I suspect I'll need new programs for it."

"Ok, Blitz, whos this you brought? Gent? Good to meet you.. Blitz says you backed him up. Well, I always say actions speak louder than words. You want in on the Edgers? Attach yourself to Blitz's hip, where he goes you go, I have a feeling you two will make a good pair, welcome aboard Omae."

Ghost shakes the newcommers hand before turning to the remaining group.

"Ok folks we have done a lot today, let's call it a night. I want everyone back here at 9am for a meeting. Good job tonight people."

"Fair enough Ghost" Gent says as he accepts the handshake.

"If I got a doss, then I might as well grab my stuff."

Leaving and returning shortly, Gent gets back carrying a pair of big black bags. Wandering into the former doss of the Losers, he puts his stuff down in the tidy room and goes about checking through everything to see what he wants to get rid of to make some more space.

"My own little slice of dossitude... Cool."