Much of the hubbub has to do with the changes at the Killian ranch. Although the arrangement between Ella-Reese Killian and the Black Market representatives called for relatively little to change, on the surface at least, there's a natural re-ordering that comes with any shift in the local power structure. Other power brokers in town recruit some of those left without a patron, and more than a few gamblers reconsider which horse to lay their money on.
After Old Man Killian's impromptu wake, business at the Sidewinder settles down a bit, which leaves Baz grousing as he lounges upstairs in his favorite chair. Stella is as sunny as ever, and the saloon serves as an unofficial base of operations for the COT as its members make their way around town on business.
The Black Market is true to its word and gives you a good price for the guns and scrapped power armor you've hauled back to the town, and the credits fund a short-lived spending spree, with some of you spending the next two days in the workshop or cyber clinic while others peruse the varied offerings of Black Mesa's markets.
Tired and tricked out like a bunch of dust-covered peacocks, you all gather at the saloon on the third day, as afternoon gives way to evening. Round about the time the setting sun is creeping behind the Mesa, a dust plume rises in the west, slowly resolving into the hazy shape of a rider, silhouette framed by the blood-red sun at his back.
A few minutes later, the battered hovercycle rumbles up to the hitching post outside the Sidewinder. Its equally battered rider dismounts, shaking sand and dust from his clothes. He limps as he approaches, and his hat and long coat are ragged and faded. Still, he manages to cut an imposing figure as he throws open the saloon doors at the Sidewinder and approaches the table the COT has secured for the meet.
Pulling the dirty bandana from around his neck, the man -- the veteran cyber-knight, Keegan, if your intel was correct -- runs his fingers through his beard and spits on the floor, clearing his throat of the dust of a long journey. This close, you see that Keegan is missing his right eye. Unlike the Sidewinder's larmac owner, he doesn't bother to cover the scarred socket with a patch.
"I hope y'all are big damn heroes, 'cause anything less ain't gonna last a week where I'm asking you to go," he says by way of introduction.
He starts to pull out a chair, then stops in his tracks as Stella approaches.
"Ma'am, I ... well, it's been many a mile and many a heartache since I last saw the sun shining from your face. Sometimes I think I dreamed what we done down in Af ..."
He's cut off as Stella places a hand on his arm and smiles, radiant as ever.
"I think you must have me mistaken for someone else, sir knight. I'm just a saloon gal from Black Mesa, but I'd be happy to bring you something to drink after such a long journey. By the looks of you, you've earned it many times over."
Keegan smiles and nods, bemused (as so many are when first encountering the Sidewinder's resident angel), and Stella runs to fetch a pitcher of beer and a bottle of rye whiskey.
Shaking his head, the grizzled warrior takes a seat and begins to explain his request.
"I don't know what Coake told you, or in what ways my message got garbled up and confused as it passed through that Legion he's got started down in Arkansas. But I've got a task that needs doing, and too few hands to do it on my own."
Making sure he's got your attention, Keegan continues.
"There’s this D-Bee village northwest of here, peaceful folk, stranded after comin' outta some rift or another that snatched 'em off their planet and dumped 'em here. They took me in after I got bushwacked by some Simvan and nursed me back to health, and I've been trying to look after 'em as I can. Well, I got wrapped up in Tolkeen for a while, and by the time I made it back the town had been taken over by bandits from the Pecos, a gang calling themselves the Blue Hand Raiders. They're a nasty bunch, made up of castoffs and black hats and killers who was just too mean for some of the more established gangs down south. They been riding all around north of here, far up as the Colorado Baronies and east to Missouri."
"Nobody seems to know much about their leader, a man they call Shibboleth, the Outsider. But he's got a couple of lieutenants that run things in these parts, a fallen knight calling herself Ronin and a D-bee 'slinger named Cassius, one of the scaly bastards they call vanguard brawlers out east."
Keegan knocks back a swallow of whiskey and bares his teeth.
"Them bastards been raiding all over the territory, but leaving a small force of men to lord it over the village, which had been making a peaceful living bartering with traders and recharging power supplies for travelers passing by. I mean to get rid of the varmints and free the town, but as you can see I got a mite crippled up in the war and can't do it on my own. That's where you come in. With a couple dozen well-armed men, it'll be like clearing a wheat field."
