*Post deleted at GM request*

For some strange reason, Mick, Painkiller, Kake, and Nick all open their eyes at the exact same moment. Everyone else is asleep, and it's just immediatly pre-dawn. They think a second, trying to figure out why they've been suddenly and inexplicably awakened from their slumber, when the sound comes again. It's a car door slamming closed.

All of them, instantly on their feet, rush to whatever window is nearest. Out front, four cars have made a barricade, and there seems to be *alot* of people ducked behind it. Out back, there seem to be huge hunks of metal propped against the back fence, with people pointing weapons over it. For just a moment, everything is dead silent. And then, someone speaks over a microphone from the front barricade. You can't see who it is, as they are behind one of the cars. "So?"

At that point, you notice that between the various houses and in the alleys all up and down the street, there seem to be *alot* of people. There's no time to count, but there must be well over one hundred people gathered outside. There are people of all races, nearly half of them aren't bikers. There are at least a half dozen different gangs, although none of them from the immediate neighbourhood.

Nick grabs his rifle and starts going around kicking or punching everyone awake, depending on their height off the ground.

"C'mon! C'mon, dammit! They've got a goddamn army out there! We've got to do something! Shit!"

WHen Nick whacks Mickey awake, he blinks open and listens to his warning. He's up in a flash, jacket on and weapons in place. HE looks out the window to asses the situation. Drek! It IS an army! Renraku's out in force! Not good.

Well, this is why they had plan B. Lure 'em in and blow 'em up. He sets to waking everyone, Diablo first. "Get your boom-board, chummer. It's on! I hope the mines we'd set can blast a path out of here."

He wakes Yellow next, keeping her with him. He didn't get her that arm just to have her die on him! "It looks bad, Yellow. I'm going to see if we can implement plan B. If so, there's going to be a nasty surprise for the Wild Riders. I don't think that zip gun is going to cut it." He hands her his predator2 and the 2 spare clips. "A loaner. Try not to lose it."

"No, here, take my T-250! You're probably better with shotguns.", Nick says, grabbing his shotgun and bandolier of shells, and thrusting them into her arms. Then he slides on his armored jacket, and puts on his helmet. It would be good against a knife or a hammer.

"Wait...Kake's truck. We could probably plow through the lot of them with it. Although...Here, Girl, Widow! Get a hammer and nails and boards and start barricading the place! Push furniture in front of the door, anything!", he shouts.

"We're so screwed!", Nick whispers to himself.

Everyone is awake now, and everyone is scrambing to do something helpful. It takes an agonizing several minutes to find a hammer and nails, but in the mean time everyone pushes every spare bit of furniture to the windows and doors. Mother and Girl are actually loading up on weapons and leaving the barricading to others. Widow joins them. The two fuss over Girl very quickly and efficiently. Like two mothers sending their little girl out on her first date...except, you know, with guns.

Whoever has the megaphone speaks again. "I said, 'So?' What will it be? Liberty, or death?"

Nick crouches down behind a window, and peers over his shoulder, looking at the assembled army between the boards.

"So, Mickey...you think we shoul tell them to fuck off? We could join. Might not be so bad. Then again...Fuck.", Nick says, pulling out his cigarettes.

"Hey, one left. Lucky me.", he says, taking it out and tossing the pack to the side. He thumps the butt of his AR against the floor of the doss.

"Where are those fucking russians?"

Ricks watches the choas go on around him and then looks up to Bubba, "My friend, I'm stepping out for a moment, please keep an eye on me."

With that, Ricks sits down and leans back against the wall, the then lets his spirit drift up and out of the house so he can get a better veiw of the situation.

Ricks eyes snap open as he jolts back into his body.

"Fuck me! Micky, this ain't likely somethin' ya wanna hear... but there's around a hundred or so folks out there... and about fifteen or so of them are active. I don't know about you, but I ain't likin' these odds too much."

Nick shuts his eyes.

"Fuck fuck shit fuck!", he shouts, "Fifteen of them!? Why can't you mage bastards go get nice corp jobs, and leave the streets to the firearm inclined?"

Nick sucks the cigarette down in one long drag, then pitches it onto the ground.

"We still have to give them an answer. You know what? Fuck them. I say blaze of glory. He who lives on the streets is not long for living, or some shit like that. We should put it to a vote though.", Nick says, rising to his feet. He walks into the bathroom and bangs his AR against the tub a couple times.

"Hey, Orlov! Get the hell up! We've got trouble, and I didn't buy you so you could sleep in the tub."

Orlav mutters something in Russian when the first brick goes through the window, followed be a grenade.

Nick pours a bucket of cold water on Orlov's face.

"Seriously man, get the hell up."

Mickey shakes his head at Nick's idea. "THere will be no blaze of glory here today. We planned for this, Edgers. Have faith. Remember the plan and we get out of this alive and able to kick hoop later. RIght now, the first phase of the plan is to turn over the house. RIght? Turn over the house."

He goes to the window...then ducks as the brick flys toward it. He shakes his head again, then sees the grenade drop in! HIs eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he bolts for it. WIth all the explosives set up in the house there's no way he's letting that thing go off in here! He scoops it up and drops it out the window...not at the army out front. That would ruin the plan!

"STOP WITH THE GRENADES! I CALL FOR PARLEY."

The grenade goes off outside, with a barrier of slightly lower quality furniture between it and anyone. The megaphone barks, "I'm listening. Say your bit."

The voice is *very* calm and seems almost... amused.

Mickey steps over to the window, looking out at the leader. "I am coming out the front door, unarmed." He went to the front door, telling all the Edgers, "Do NOT fire unless they fire at you." Then he stands to the side of the door, opening it. If no shots ring out, he steps into view, hands open and at his side and steps onto the porch.

"Quite the impressive army you have here. A greater force than we could go toe to toe with at this time. What'll it take for us to walk out of here alive?" His voice is calm and he has that half-vacant stare he always has. His trigger finger twitches as he speaks. "As valiant and noble as going down fighting might be, the death and destruction of the Bleeding Edge at this time does not suit me very well."

The voice from behind the car stands up. You're intensly aware that there are at least a dozen guns pointed at you. The man with the megaphone is a smiling dreadlocked guy with no shirt and dozens of tattooes. "Simple, we take a chunk of your earnings, and you take orders from us, when we feel like giving them. Simple as that."

He lights up a cigar. "And don't think I'm going to accept any of this saying you'll do it and backstabbing business. I have an order to show I mean business. I need the life of a lieutenant."

He grins, showing gold-capped teeth, and exhales smoke.

Nick hears the explosion and charges out, then calms down when he sees Mickey calling for Parley. When he hears the man's answer, he says to Mickey in a hushed voice.

"We're not killing anyone of our guys. I say we answer by shooting him in the head. I'm a good shot. I'll do it.", Nick says. He stays in place, waiting for Mickey's answer, but starts looking around for a good position to try a headshot on the man from.

Ricks whispers under his breath, just to make sure no one accross the street can hear...

"There may be something I can do here... Only trouble is, one of the other Mages on their side may detect it. If you want, I can attempt to take control of his mind."

Mickey stepped from the doorway, shaking his head at Ricks and Nick. He slowly approached
Dread-head to within 10 meters, his open hands at his side, his leather jacket open so they
could see his armoured vest. He tried his best to appear unconcerned about all the weapons
pointed at him.

"Quite the feat, getting entrenched so quickly and quietly. My compliments to you and your
army." He looked at all nearby, making sure they all heard. "However, though you have the
superior force, no Bleeding Edger will kill another, lieutennant or otherwise. If you want
this territory, you will have to occupy it yourselves. We will fight you to the very last,
with everything at our disposal. It will be brutal and bloody. Since the Hellbringers are
right next door, I imagine you would like to have as few losses as possible. So, allow me to
make a counter offer."

He looked directly at Dread-head, standing tall, as an equal talking to an equal. He brought
his wider experience to bear, hoping that he'd set the hook with his description of the current
situation.

"Allow the Bleeding Edge to gather our personal possesions and leave. The house and the
territory that came with it will be yours with no losses." In a lowered voice he said, "Quite the
fief you could bestow, hmmm?" He brought his voice back up again and continued. "The Wild Riders
gain new territory at no loss, HQ intact. The Bleeding Edge move outside the territory. Such a
coup could only raise your reputation. Would these terms be acceptible?"

The dreaded man scratches his chin, the dawn light creating a passive, pleaant scene behind him, in the face of all this violence. Some birds at the apex of the house chirp. His gold teeth show again.

"That includes the Loser territory. That's both HQ and all turf. And we're taking the hookers. We'll escort you to the boundary of our territory, and if we ever see any of you in colors or with any more of two of you together inside our borders after this, we kill you. I'll be nice and let you guys keep your bikes and that big truck over there. Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me. I was kinda looking forward to a fight today."

Inwardly he sighed. Just how long had they been watching the Bleeding Edge? He gave a little grin and said, "Just how long have you had this territory in mind?" Well...looks like plan A wasn't going to work as good. Only 1/4 of the force arrayed against them would get caught in the blast at best. With no territory to run to, it'd be suicide to blast the place today.

"Allow me to keep a few of the girls, at least. I worked hard to get them and invested a lot. There's a personal interest involved."

He started to think about where to go from here. He could have Diablo hand over the boom board to the Hellbringers, let them boot the Wild Riders good...

Mother, inside, watches pensivly what's going on outside. She seems to reflect for a second, and runs upstairs.

What the fuck? I join up and the next day have to hand over my girls? Man... fuck this, Ricks thinks to himself.

"I tell you what. Three. You can keep three. But I better never see them. Cause I'm in a killing mood. Deal?"

Nick leans against the frame of the doorway as he watches the proceedings. When the terms of surrender are laid out, he goes back inside.

"I fuckin' swear, Ricks...if I catch this dreadhead bastard, I'm going to grind his fucking face off on my bike's back tire.", Nick says.

Then he sees Mother run upstairs.

"Hey, where's she going? We need everyone down here.", Nick thinks to himself. He runs upstairs after her.

Mother is rummaging frantically through her room. She digs out something that vaguely resembles a cyberdeck. Then she begins hunting anew, and pulls, from under a huge pile of circuits and electronic mess, something that may have once been a drone.

Ricks looks over to Bubba and his girls, "Pack your shit, looks like we're moving how and who knows how much time they'll give us, so we may as well start now."

Painkiller looks through a window.

Drek, we're cornered! What the frag's going on?

"Guys, if there's an sewer entrance here, we can make a quiet retreat. I know some people who can protect us, and not even these bastards would mess with them. What do you think?"

Three. A mere three. Well, Yellow would be one, that was certain. He'd have to somehow get word to the girls to scatter. Leave them to the Riders? Not if he could help it. For a moment he considered just saying to hell with it and going down fighting...for a moment. He started formulating a plan...some other gang was going to be displaced by the Edgers...or absorbed. That was the way of the 'plex.

Dread head was sure willing to bargain for someone who was in a superior position...

"Three, hmmm. And how much time do we have to get our stuff into the truck?"

Mickey looked at Dread-head intensively, sizing him up...was he hiding something? Was it all an illusion, this superior force? Was Renraku pulling a fast one?

"Mother? Mother, what are you doing? There'll be time for packing later. Come back downstairs. Wait, where'd you get that drone thing?"

Mickey, after finding out how much time has been alloted, heads back to the house to let everyone know what just happenned, telling Dread-head so and that he'll be right back. He calls Ricks over to him and whispers, "Here's a chance for ya to earn some good will. Use that voodoo that's yours to command and watch everyone as I give them the heads up...if any give the impression of being traitors, I want you to signal me."

He stands where al can see him and calls for attention.

"Allright, Edgers, here's the situation. We're outnimbered and outgunned. We need to get absolutely everything we can into the big truck! Leave nothing behind except the bang. We're going to be escorted out of the territory. I know I promised you all a glorious battle, but after seeing what we are up gainst, I decided we'd all rather live. I guessed nobody here wanted to be a Wild Rider. Am I correct?" He scans the place, looking at each ganger in turn. Then he continues. Those of you who were hired guns, well, you just got paid good nuyen for showing up. Thanks for coming and I hope you'll be available should we need you again. We would all appreciate it if you stayed on hand until we are packed and moved. Allright, Edgers, let's get to work."

He heads back out to Dread head and speaks some more. "You and your guys might want to stay on the outside of your wall until we are done. The erea is trapped, you see. Once we're safely out of the territory, we'll let you know where all the traps are." He grins a little, just enough to let Dread-head know that it's not over until the Edgers are moved.

The hired guns seem more or less pleased at the concept of being paid to show up to a party. The pack most of their weapons, agreeing to stick around until the Bleeding Edge have cleared out.

Widow stoicly walks downstairs, grabs a duffle that is already packed, and walks back upstairs. Girl doesn't really have anything other than the clothes on her back, at this point. Diablo and Bishop have a quick conference between themselves for a bit and decide to grab their stuff and throw in with the Edgers. Evidentally this was up in the air for a bit. The hobgoblin they brought in to help walks up to them and talks for a bit. He's directed to Mickey, "Uhh... we're not really sure who's in charge right now, but you seem about as close to it as we're gonna get. You mind if I run with you guys? D and Bish are like brothers to me, and I don't really got no place else to go."

Bruised pulls up stakes fairly quickly and quietly, waiting in the kitchen for everyone else. Mother seems to be having a small scale breakdown in her room, but seems to snap out of it for a second, walks boldly as you please into Ghost's room, picks up a katana (evidentally he did own one, even though he used a stun baton), walks into Promo's room, viciously rips the mattress from the box spring, hurling it across the room, narrowly missing the small group have people that have gathered to watch her go crazy. She cuts a huge gash into the box spring and falls to it, tearing away the wood and fabric like a woman possesed. Finally, she tears it open and reaches inside. She comes out with a dufflebag, *very* large, troll sized, even, and pulls it, obviously very heavy, from the shattered box spring. With difficulty, she throws it over her shoulder. "I'm ready."

Ricks gives Mickey a nod and does his best to keep an eye on the gangers. From time to time he switches over to astral sight to get a look at their auras and see their emotional state.

Not having moved in yet, Ricks doesn't really have anything to pack up, so he just watches things progress around him while trying to get a feel for everyone.

Nick nods at Mother, and goes downstairs, gathering up his possessions and jamming them into his duffelbag. He rips his band posters off the wall, and rolls them up and sticks them in the bag. Then he goes around the barracks, gathering up anything anyone might have missed. After that, he sits on the edge of his bunk, his filled Ares duffelbag sitting next to him.

"Goddammit. We worked so goddamn hard for all this. And the fucking Wild Riders come...they fucking take it all with their hired guns. Fuck. FUCK. FUUCK!!!", Nick screams, he jumps up and begins destroying things, knocking over the bunkbeds, punching the plasticrete wall, bashing his head against metal support poles, all the while screaming.

Ricks looks over to Nick. "Yo, knock that shit off man."

Mickey looks at the hobgoblin, his brain reeling! Leader? Him? Noo..!

"For now, you're with us. A real decision'll be made once we find new stomping grounds and settle in."

He hasn't got much to pack, so he helps others who need a hand and generally shouts encouragement, trying to keep morale up.

Once everyone's ready, there's a final gathering in the livingroom. Everyone stands for a minute. The amassed army outside can clearly see inside, with every and their duffle bags. The hired help seems a little nervous, but that's mostly because they are going to leave a defensible position when they aren't absolutly sure they'll get popped in the head once they leave. There's a ruckus in the hallway, and everyone turns, some drawing weapons. A skinny, strung out figure appears around the corner. It's Junkie, finally done getting clean. "Hey guys, what's going on?" Someone fills him in, and he nods, seemingly onconcerned. He has no stuff, so he's just coming as is.

Outside, everyone gets into the truck, Kake Micky and Nick in the cab, everyone else in the trailer. Dread-head and two of his people wander over to look at everyone and smiles. "You coulda joined up, you know."

He turns to the Russians, "You're free to leave." He turns to the Kingsgate Hellbringers, who have wisly stashed their colors under other jackets or in bags. "Don't think you're hiding, without your colors on. But out of respect for the fact that you aren't wearing them, you can leave. You might expect a visit at some point, though."

He puts the megaphone to his mouth. "Alright everyone, SADDLE UP!"

The entire crew breaks up and grabs their bikes, most of them hidden in the various alleys nearby. Two mages, twins, ride theirs straight off the roof of a nearby building, floating nicely to the ground. Somehow, you hadn't seen them before. The drive to Hollywood is nerve-wracking, a semi surrounded by a fleet of motorcycles. Traffic turns out of your way, and along some streets there are people lined up on the sidewalks, waving you off. Some sad, some pleased. Munk's Skull Crushin' Bad Boyz are all lined up, giving a Roman salute. The bar guys from the losers old HQ are all staring, hard-eyed, but they each pour out their beer to the passing group, presumably to mourn the loss of a neighbourhood fixture.

Finally, you arrive in Hollywood. Some of you know this place, some don't, but none nearly as well as home. The place is as desolate as Woodinville was, but it seems moreso. There are abandoned buildings filled with squatters, fires in trashcans, and street lights that are almost all broken and spray-painted. One is even knocked over. Rusted out shells of cars sit on blocks, and the one source of life you see, a bar marked with a simple hand-painted sign, "Tiggy's Bar and Grill" seems almost abandoned itself, with wood over the windows. There's a Stuffer Shack and what used to be a hotel, with a huge condemed sign over the boarded over-door along with what used to be houses and small offices. One sign proclaims that a doctor used to work and live here, even though it's obvious he doesn't now.

Nick rubs a cut on his forehead from bashing his head around.

"Like I said...we should put it to a vote among the lieutenants. And you can't vote for yourself. Once again, I vote for Kake."

He nods at everyone as they salute the truck, a look of shame on his face.

"I ain't even offically part of the gang yet, so I guess I don't have any say. Although, from what I've seen, Mickey has been taken charge an' doin' a good job of it."

"Yeah, well Mickey ain't really a ganger. As of three months ago, he was corpsec. Although, who am I to dispute your decision?"

"You know what? We don't have time for a debate here. Put forth someone or abstain. I'll be willing to be in charge temporarily, until we get our own turf and re-established. Then we can pick out someone new and better for the job. That's 2 for me and one for Kake"

Drek, I can't believe our luck. If there was a God, I'd swear he's having fun at our expense.

Painkiller looks at the gang.

"So, what now? We could ally with some people I know, but once we do, there is no way back."

"What kinda people are they?"

"Whatever Mickey. I didn't mean anything by it.", Nick says, jumping out of the cab.

"In any case, we're in potentially hostile territory. We need to find a way to let the gangs around here know we don't really have intentions on horning in on their business. At least until we have some more members. We could host a giant block party, or something, kind of as like a 'Hello, don't fuckin' shoot us.' thing. A real goddamn Soiree. A box social, of sorts. Mickey and I could go around dropping invitations. And hey, a party could attract new members. And, we could go get our fucking turf back. They can't hold a force of that size forever. If we get some heavy stuff, we can shell the fucking house down around them. Even if we lose the house, we'll have proved you don't fuck with the Bleeding Edge.", Nick says, eyes flashing with anger.

"Anyway, we should try getting situated in this house.", He adds, pulling ou his knife, and prying boards off the door with it.

"I think for now we should use the truck to crash in. That way we can be mobile if we need to. Let's split into pairs and scout the erea, see who's where and who's who, then we can plan where we'll live. Nick, you take Painkiller with you. Ricks, you're with me. Everyone keep your phones on. Ricks, can you summon watchers to do a fast recon before we go? I want as much recon as we can get."

Sitting on the hood of a rusted out hulk, Sue watches the semi pull up and several gangers jump out.

Well, there's something you don' see everyday...

He takes another swig of the snyth-scotch from a battered flask and replaces it in an inside pocket of his jacket. It may have been real leather at one point but those days are long gone.

Hopping off the hood, Sue straightens the double barrel shotgun in its holster on his back so that the sawed off butt shows over his left shoulder. He scratches his lambchop sideburns and runs a hand over the stuble on the rest of his face. Man, I could use a shave

He crosses the street slowly, keeping his hands open and at his sides. As he reaches the half way point, he sees a wild eyed young man [Nick] hop down from the cab.

Stopping about 3 meters from the man, "Hey, omae. You the new crew in town? Some people 'round here may not like that much. You th' Big Man, or what?"

He digs out a crumpled half full pack of 'Nails, unfiltered, and shuffles one out. He lights it with a cheap black Zippo knock off. He blows out the first puff without inhaling then takes a deep drag. Blowing the smoke out of the left side of his mouth, he fixes the other with a steely eyed glare and waits for a responce...

Nick straightens his posture. and dons a slight sneer.

"Yeah. We're new. Just out of Woodinville. We picked up and moved here. Forced change of scenery. You probably know how that is.", Nick says, unzipping his leather jacket, revealing a beat up Dead Kennedys T-shirt older than he is.

"I'm not the big man. 'Least, not yet. Our past two leaders were both geeked in as many days. Were putting the job to a vote now.", Nick says.

He sticks out his hand.

"My names Nick. We-", He says, spinning Mickey around to display the Bleeding Edge logo, "-Are the Bleeding Edge, one of the original gangs of Woodinville, forced out of our home by a veritable army. You here for a purpose, or you just want to shoot the shit?", he asks. His index and middle fingers fidget, as if he's used to having a cigarette there.

The bigger man grins when he sees Nick's shirt. He listens to the story and then nods, "You're straight forward, I respect that."

Sue takes Nicks hand and shakes it, matching the pressure equally. "My name is Sue, how do you do?" His grin blossoms into a full feral grin as if waiting for the man to say something. Then sombers just as quickly and takes a deep drag on the 'Nail, holding it for a second before exhaling.

"Thats a real shame about your Bosses, Nick, and since youre askin' I ain't here to jus' shoot th' shit. Fact is, I might be lookin for a new outfit. Some recent events have left me between...heh, jobs, you could say." Sue does a quick head count. "So, forced out, huh? Probably took some licks along the way? You guys in the market then?" He takes another drag. Seeing the twitching fingers, "You, uh, got a problem there?" And flicks some ash to the pavement.

Mickey glares at Nick and gives him a rough shove. "Hey, hands off the threads!" He takes off the prized real leather jacket and brushes it off with his hands, straightening it, then puts it back on, glaring at Nick again. If he wanted to rumble, all he had to do was keep it up. He looked at Sue.

"Who might you be, hmmm?" His trigger finger twitched as he gave Sue a half vacant stare.