Mickey grins at Nick. "I see you've been busy, too. The Hellbringers sent Hade here...and they said more would be willing to rumble, at least 6 and probably more! They also will make gear available to purchase."

He nods approvingly at Diablo. "Excellent work. We can lay traps on the road, too, then. Oh, those riders are going to be in for a nasty surprise!"

He turns back to Nick." I fear I haven't any funds left. If it's really needed, I'll put up my deck for cash, but I was hoping not to have to. Right now, I have to bring Yellow to the doctor...and maybe get some info from his that may aid us." He heads out to grab the cyberarm, fetch Yellow, then has one of the gangers come with him to Dr. Mallus' operating room, cash in hand. He pays the fee and introduces Yellow and Dr. Mallus to each other.

"How long is this going to take, Doc?"

Nick thinks a bit on how to get the money.

"If I mug 7 people, and get 1k of each of them...no, that won't work. Wait...the bikes. Those two Scorpions in the garage. I could sell them both for 7,000. I'll just have to find a chopshop.", Nick thinks.

"Hey, Bishop, or any of you guys, forget what I said earlier. Do any of you know about a chopshop or something around here?", Nick asks.

When Dr. Mallus meets Yellow, Mickey explains what he wants. "When you attatch the cyberarm, do an extra good job. I want her to be able to have that arm work even if she got it chopped with a fire axe by a troll! The most reliable cyberarm ever." He hands over half the cash, 250 Nuyen, with the understanding the other half would be paid upon completion.

"Do not worry at all, Yellow. I've worked with this guy before. He's kept my implants SotA for the last year."

"Doctor, before I go, I assume you have a deal with some organ leggers. Have you noticed or heard about any concentrated activity or effort down in the sewers lately? The information would go a long way to ensuring I would be able to continue doing business with you."

"Well, I've had a *little* dealing with that sort, but you do it too much and it starts to ruin your rep. Kinda like moonlighting in taxidermy when you're a vet. I know that there's a couple that come out of some tunnel hidden behind A-1 grocery, although I've never been able to find it. That's about it, though."

"I'll most certainly make this arm as durable as I possibly can."

Mort listens to Pain's proposition, and a big grin spreads on his straight, perfect teeth. When did his teeth get that nice?

"I think that would be an almost perfect arrangment. I think we'll be there before the evening is over. We'd probably feel better if we can spend at least part of the evening getting the lay of the land."

"Thank you, doctor. Do let me know as soon as the operation is complete. You know where to reach me. I must now see to the Edgers' continued survival."

He smiles at Yellow. "Feeling a little...nervous isn't the right word...is the anticipation starting to make you a little nuts?" He grins at her as he looks to where her missing arm should be. "Well, I look foreward to seeing you with your new arm. I hate to leave right now, but you understand, I'm sure. Every team needs it's leaders."

Mickey has the gang soldier he brought with him stay with the doc and Yellow. He heads back to the doss and goes to inform everyone what he has learned.

"Who here knows the A-1 grocery? Apparently some organleggers come out of the sewers near there. Could be a lead to the Losers' hidey hole. Until rumble time, I'd like 3 of you to go and watch the erea. Blend in and don't get seen." He points to Widow and the two Edgers next to her.

Next, he checks on Diablo again. "Need any help? I want to make sure we have enough time to rig the house and to set perimiter "mines" as well as a homemade grenade or stick of dynamite to any that can throw one."

Diablo looks to Mikey a second. "Yeah, pull up a stool. Take that plastic bowl, that yellow stuff, that black stuff, something wooden, like a spoon or something, and crush them together. Also, take off anything metal your wearing. It's a slim chance, but we don't want a static induced explosion right now."

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! There is a pounding on the front door of the gang house.

Mickey is in the middle of helping Diablo when the door bangs. He sighs and stands up. "I'll be right back. I don't know if any of the other lieutennants are here right now, so I might be needed." He brushes himself off and heads to the door, looking through the peep hole before opening it...or not opening it if it's a threat.

Nick slips out the garage way, and drives over to Merciless Ming. Once inside, he asks.

"Hey Ming! How're things? I'll have a shot of Burn. Oh, and do you know of anyone who might be willing to buy a motorcycle or two, or of any chopshops in the vicinity? I've got some business."

Ming thinks a second. "Yeah, I think I know where you can off one of them. Buddy of mine name of Kim is looking for another bike. He'd probably be willing to buy if you offered a good price and it was a half-decent bike. Whatcha looking to get rid of, I'll call him."

"I've got a Scorpion sitting in the garage. Used to belong to gang member. He got geeked yesterday. I've been doin' regular maintenence on it for all the time he had it, so it's in top shape. Tell him he can have it for 7,000 nuyen, about 2/3rds its worth. A real deal."

With Mickey still at the door. A short russian comes up behind the Dwarf at the door. "Oh, I don't suppose I know you, do I?"

Behind the Russian comes a fairly motley, but specialized crew. There's a pair of pale orks that seem to be almost exactly alike, despite the fact that they obviously aren't related. There's a hard looking young woman, and a scrawny little man with a crewcut and a LARGE dufflebag over his shoulder. There's a long-haired guy in a leather jacket, with a huge grin on his face, a dwarf with a shaved head and dark sunglasses, a Troll with his horns clipped off (popular in some social circles, but not the kind he looks like he would belong to), and a young lady with a cyberskull and only small bits of real flesh remaining on her face.

Ming gets on the phone right away, and calls up his friend. "Yeah, I found a bike for you. Yup. Scorpion. Yeah... no. Regular maintaniance. I know the guy, so if he's jerking you around, we can go where he lives. Yeah. Um, lemme check," Ming turns to Nick, "You mind if he does this right now? He wants to take possesion of the bike immediatly."

"Oh, hell yeah. Let's get him over here. I'll drive him over to my doss, he'll slot the cred, leave on the bike, everyone's happy.", Nick says, nodding.

Ming conveys the message, and hangs up the phone.

Nick's only gotten into his second beer when a man with hair cropped so close it must be genetic, about 5'6", well-muscled, and with arms covered in tattoos where his thermal shirt doesn't cover walks in. He has red suspenders and a faintly European look to him. "I'm Kim. Shall we get going?"

"Yeah. My bikes outside. Follow me.", Nick says, standing up and walking out.

"Pretty sweet ride, huh? Her name's Dream Shredder. Bought her with money from amateur races. This necklace is her first chain. Anyway, let's go check out the Scorpion.", Nick rambles, as he swings his leg over the bike. When Kim gets on, Nick drives back to the doss, and shows him the bike.

"There she is. Used to be a member's. He got geeked, and we need some cash. You can have her for 7k. Pretty cheap, considering their usual price, and the state its in."

Ricks is quite the sight. He is an african-american dwarf with a look all his own. He sports a huge fro, huge purple sunglasses, and an arrey of gold chains around his neck (they are obviously fake). He has on black leather pants and a white t-shirt, with a black leather long coat over that. To each side of him is a female ork, dressed up in an outfit that screems "I'm a whore!". Behind them is a huge troll, who is obviously working as the dwarfs bodyguard.

Ricks flashes one of his winning smiles at whoever answered the door and says, "Hey! How yal doin' tonight? My names Ricks and I'm thinkin' we may be able to help eachother out. See, as I hear it, yal have been takin' out all da pimps in da hood and I don't mean to be one of 'em. If ya can't beat em, join em! So I'd like to offer you my services, cause I got the mad mojo skills. Whatcha say?"

As the people come up behind him, Ricks blinks and studders out, "Damn, who the hell are you guys?" He glances around, wondering what he got himself into.

Mickey gave the strange dwarf a wry grin, locking his half vacant stare on him. "Indeed, it is unwise to attempt to remain an independant on Bleeding Edge turf." He looks at the two orks, then at the troll. Two more guns! He looked next at the crew assembling behind Ricks. "Oh, Pain," he shouted, "would these be the fellows you were just telling us about?"

He waited for Painkiller to get to the door before letting anyone in, but he did start to deal with Ricks. "Magician, hmm? Are you the shaman type or the more scholarly wizard type?" He wasted no time in getting to what Ricks could offer...after all, it was crunch time! If he was a magician, then they had just gained a big time boost!

"Shaman. I serve the Mistress of Seduction. I don't have the biggest spellbook in the world, but what I got packs a punch, soka?

Bubba here is my bodyguard, but he only works on a parttime basis. Plus I got me four bitches if any of yer boys need their noobs polished." With that, he slaps the ass of each woman next to him with a "Woot!".

Mickey looks down and shakes his head. Ricks obviously didn't really understand good business practices! Treating one's employees badly led to resentment, poor performance, customer complaints, AI's taking over, human experimentation...

He gritted his teeth and shook those memories away. Stupid Renraku bastards! May they all rot in the arcology hell they created!

"I see. Well, Ricks, bring Bubba and your ladies inside...I don't recall you mentioning their names...and we'll discuss things."

He turns his attention the the rest of the guys assembled on the doorstep. "And whom might you all be? I assume you are here on business?"

Ricks makes his way through the door, nodding his head in approval. "Nice place. Oh, and the girls names are Sugar and Spice. They're sisters. I'll have my other two ladies stop by in a bit so you can meet em, but they're on the clock right now. So whats the haps around here?"

The Russian extends his hand and says "I'm Bor-is. I'm here about some mus-cle I was told was needed. Is Nickoli about?"

"These, by the way, are me boys. Baroch, Bolokov, Iasa, Big Tom, Orlov, Melenkov, Tuck, and Genevive. They are yours to use, as are plenty of weapons. They're rented, mind, not bought, but feel free to use them."

Mickey looked over the crew of Russians appraisingly. Lots of weapons was good...bodies weilding them were good too. But who was Nickoli? Nick?

"Oh, you are referring to Nick. He'll be back shortly. He just went to *Ahem* make a withdrawal. He was quite adamant that we make sure we have on hand what it would take to pay you and is just returning with the cash. Feel free to wait inside."

Kim looks the bike over appraisingly. "I'll give you... 6k for it. It's fairly well taken care of, but it *is* just a Scorpion, after all."

"Done! Consider yourself the proud new owner of a poor Techie's Scorpion, may he rest in peace. Pleasure doing business with you.", Nick says with a smile, shaking hands with Kim.

He slots Kim's cred, and opens the garage door so he can drive off on it, then enters the doss's front room through the side door.

"Hey Mickey, I- oh. Boris, hey. Listen, you know how I said "In the neighborhood of ten thousand"? Yeah, I got nine thouasnd. If you want, I can get you the other thousand later.", Nick says to him, his tone vaguely apologetic.

Nick looks over the people gathered behind Boris.

"Wow, good crew. Are they runners, or just toughs?"

"Officially, don't ask. They've spent some time overseas, and they're *very* skilled. As for the money... I'm sure we can pick it out of the bodies in the morning. As for these guys, got anywhere they can crash for the night? They'll probably want to be well-rested for the morning."

The grinning man interrupts him with "Nyet. Par-tahy?" He then pulls a beer out of his inner pocket and cracks it open.

"Nope, those aren't the people I'm expecting. They'll probably arrive late in the evening, you'll know who they are as soon as you see them smile"

Ricks glances around, "You guys gettin' ready fer a war or somethin'?"

"Da...Party.", Nick says, grinning himself. He switches over to Russian, and continues. "Hey, come inside. No sense in standing on the doorstep. Downstairs are the barracks, plenty of beds.", he says, ushering in Boris and his men.

Then he looks at Rick.

"Yeah. We're havin' a war. The Wild Riders are moving in on our holdings. You and that troll and those orks here to help us fight?"

Once everyone's inside, Nick shuts the door and goes downstairs, and comes back up with his duffelbag, and all his clips and ammo. He starts laying out all the guns on the table, checking each.

"So, what did you guys bring to the party?", Nick says in Russian.

"I'll help out, sure. Bubba and the rest can make up their own minds, though I'd rather my girls stay out of it, I don't want to take a chance of one of em gettin' hurt."

Nick checks over his AK-97.

"Your girls, huh? You a pimp? Didn't want me and Mickey to cack you, so you joined? Wise, my friend. You see that job we did on Teng? Name's Nick, by the way. What's yours?"

"Call me Ricks. And yeah, I figure if you can't beat em, join em."

"Smart move. So, what do you have? Guns? Explosives? Its all good."

"I got my pistol, but mostly I gots the mojo."

"Mojo? I don't think thrusting your pelvis at them is going to kill them."

Ricks gives Nick a sly grin, "You'll see... When is this war coming anyways?"

"Tomorrow. Theres about fifty to sixty guys who'll be coming in. We'll take 'em, though. They'll probably be drunk when they show up."

"Fifty or sixty? DAMN! You really ment it when you said war."

Having concluded his talk with Friday, he pushes off of the wall, and heads on into Skags. Taking a look about, he steps up to the bar. It was time to see just how far his celebrity in this place went.

`I'm looking for some guys who might be up for a rumble in the sewers.`

Even though he's adressing the bartender, he's speaking loud enough it'll easily travel, hell, they'll probably hear him on the street.

`Got a few Losers to take care of, if you catch my drift. Spoils of war go to the guys you can find to come along, hell, I don't care what they take. I'm not in this for the money. Think you know anyone who might be up for a fight?`

Boris finishes his transaction with Nick, and decides to hang out for a while.

The Russians begin to display their weapons. Each of them has at least one pistol, often two, and several of them have SMGs. There's two Assault Rifles, loaded with Ex-Ex, although they only have one clip each. Orlav puts down a large metal pipe; his contribution to the collection. The display is fairly impressive when the pizza arrives. Evidentally, someone has ordered pizza, although no one fesses up to it. After everyone digs out pocket change for... oh my god... ten pizzas.

Someone turn up the music about then, and everyone seems to be in a more relaxed mood than this morning. Orlav breaks into the vocals for a songs he claims to have written, in broken English. "My love is like a ticking clock, Be-zer-ker!"

About then, there's *another* knock at the door. Someone opens it to find several people in Hellbringer colors. The woman in lead, a slightly larger-than-average woman who introduces herself as Chemie. "We're the Kingsgate Hellbringers. We heard you needed some help." This is Eaglewood," points to an Amerind with a nose that's obviously been broken a few times, "Black James," a Billy Idol looking punk, "Shootout," a good-looking, well-groomed young man with greased hair, "California", a tanned young lady with a vibe that mixes biker and farmgirl, "Evil Matthew", a rough looking man handling a deck of cards, "and Wanderer Baily," a nearly homeless looking man.

Nick eyes the weaponry.

"Awesome stash. We'll clean up, for sure.", he says, between bites of pizza and swigs of beer.

When the Hellbringers show up, he grins.

"Excellent, we'll definately clean those fuckers up. They probably won't be expecting this amount of opposition."

Nick wipes off his hands, then goes downstairs, brings up his guitar, and begins to play.

Orlav grins and starts singing with Nick's guitar playing. Black James pushes his way to the livingroom once he hears this, bulls out a set of drum-sticks, and sets up an impromtu set made of parts of the coffee table, a pan turned upside down, and his motorcycle helmet.

Have you ever seen a pimped out dwarf with an afro dirty dancing with a pair of orc whores? You have now...

In the space of a few hours, for the purposes of the fight, their numbers had just doubled. Mickey could hardly believe it.

"Eeex-cellent," he said an a breathy voice as he twiddled his fingers together, his eyes narrowed and lips twisted back in an evil, satisfied grin. "Who among you knows how to use explosives? Diablo is in the kitchen making a nice surprise for the Riders."

He looks at the dwarf freak of nature and shakes his head. "I assume you can summon? Would it not be extremely funny if the Wild Riders roared in and all their bikes fell down at full speed? If you could pull that off, I would be most impressed!"

A plan of chaos was formin in his head...explosives for the Riders to run over, spirits to wreak havok on them, and bullets flying everywhere, ruining all their nice clothes! With that torrent unleashed, the fight would be over before it started...they might even run away, tails between their legs!

"Oh I'm sure I can conjure up a friend to help out with that. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve that I think you'll enjoy."

Mickey nodded at the dwarf pimp. "Well, then, let's get things started." He attempts to get the Edgers and additions rolling, placing the explosives Diablo had made to booby trap the house as well as set it up to collapse it, then to set mines that would blow up around the Riders' machines. He had them all break out their weapons and set up their positions while letting the Russians and the Hellbringers learn the terrain a little. He let the Russian crew have a little more autonomy, though...they seemed very professional. Best not to interfere with a unified team. He called anyone who was not present and had a phone, letting them know it was time to return and prepare for the rumble. The sole exception was the Edger staying with Yellow while she got her arm fixed up.

The party lasts well into the night. People are intermittantly convinced to lay boobytraps throughout the house. Most people seem fairly against the street traps at the moment, because there's still civilian traffic that goes up and down this street. Finally, Diablo sits in the kitchen, having wired together what he calls 'the Det-board'. It is many detonators strapped together and mounted on the island in the kitchen, with some concrete that people have dragged in to prop it up on, as well as use as a bullet shield. He grins a great deal and smokes a cigar, boasting that he can destroy any part of the house with this collection of switches.

Finally, about 4 AM, it begins to wind down. Orlav crashes in the bathtub while he's in there making room for more beer in his body. Everyone's back, including Yellow, who seems quite pleased with her new arm. The Russians take up positions looking out the various windows, officially. In fact, they're all just a little drunk. And by just a little, I mean alot. The Kingsgate Hellbringers mostly stay together in the livingroom, some having brought sleeping mats or bags. Everyone who has one, rolls their bikes either into the garage, or several blocks away. Someone sets an alarm clock for 7:30 AM.