The Ballad of Cairo

Part Three: Even the Longest Journey Begins with a Single Step

Ferris City Spaceport, Ferris,

Outworlds Alliance,

The Periphery

The Leopard class DropShip Alistair landed roughly on the concrete pad of the Spaceport, some 50 kilometres from the city of Ferris itself. Clark, who hand taken to calling himself Cairo, walked his ON1-K Orion out of the cargo-bay as soon as the huge door was open and the ramp down. Behind him, a small cargo truck driven by the Tech unit sent with him, as well as the agent from the intelligence directorate, trundled down with what little spare parts and personal possessions they carried.

It was two months after the battle of Deep-River Plains on Talon and Cairo had spent most of that time familiarising himself with his new Mech. The Orion was 20 tons bigger than the Centurion he had used to kill his new Mech's former pilot, and 50 tons bigger than the Commando he had been piloting back on Los Alamos on that bitter night three months ago.

He walked his Mech over to the customs office and dismounted.

The bored-looking customs agent looked at him wearily as he went through the list of questions he had to ask every newcomer to the planet.

"Name?"

"Cairo, Steven Cairo"

"Home world?"

"Los Alamos"

"Reason for visit?"

"My colleagues and I need to find transportation to Outreach."

"Well, there is a merchant bound for Greeley in the Fed-Com, you might be able to get a ship from there to New Avalon, then on to Outreach, but they just started that Civil War of theirs and the schedules are all messed up."

"Thank you. Is there somewhere I can leave my Mech while I arrange transport?"

"Try the cargo master's office over there" The customs agent pointed to a low building some distance away "They may be able to help you - it's right next door to the booking office. Good luck."

Cairo smiled as he walked back to the truck to talk to the senior Tech. "Okay McCoy, the Customs man says we should be able to get a ship to the Fed-Com from here, but it will be a long trip. Leave a guard on the truck and my Mech, then head into town and get some supplies. I don't know if our tickets will include food, but it's best not to risk it."

"Okay sir, will do". The gruff old sergeant saluted Cairo and turned back to his assistants to give them their orders.

Cairo looked at the Intelligence Directorate agent who had been sent with him. He was a short man, very indistinct. The sort of man who could be easily lost in a crowd…something he had told Cairo was a good thing in his line of work. "Jackson, check out the local bars and taverns. See if anyone remembers a jet-black Champion with skulls painted on the knees coming through here sometime recently. This is the main entry point to the Outworlds Alliance and the Inner Sphere for any traffic from our part of the Periphery so the odds are pretty good he'll have passed this way."

"I'm on it", the agent said in his normal low voice, then walked off towards the main spaceport building.

Cairo looked around. McCoy was organising his As-Techs into two teams and Jackson was nowhere to be seen. He took a small tin of grey paint and a brush from the back of the supply-truck and climbed the retractable ladder up to the cockpit of his Orion. He opened the tin and using careful brush strokes, named his new Mech…Retribution.

To Be Continued…