Kevin Killiany - Battletech - Encouter at El Giza

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BATTLECORPS

ENCOUNTER AT

EL GIZA

by Kevin Killiany

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 2

Plains of Al Jizah, El Giza

Mosiro Archipelago

17 May 3067

“Thermal contact!” Lieutenant Dora Campbell’s voice barked

from the scanner’s speaker, flat and tinny in the cramped turret.

Jake Jacoam stepped up the gain as the Vulcan pilot read out her

location.

“Got those coordinates, Teddi?”

Below and between his knees, the back of Sergeant Theodora

Yannis’ head nodded. She swung their J. Edgar through a tight arc

and gunned the accelerator.

The hover tank’s ICE wound to high pitch, the phantom knocking

Silverlake could never find ratcheting to frantic staccato. The roar

of the fans rose above the engines as the tank surged forward,

flattening the two-meter-high heather in its wake.

The hover tank broke from the high grass into the broad dou-

ble circle of bare earth surrounding the two Mosiro University

DropShips. A sharp jig carried them past a tank trailer, one of sev-

eral the DropShip crews had used to spread defoliants. The fans

kicked up clouds of dust and chaff as Teddi grabbed extra speed

over the open ground. The twenty-five ton hover tank couldn’t

boost to its full one-fifty-plus kph over the undulating plain, but

Teddi thrived on pushing it to the edge of stability.

The comm chatter spilled from the speaker sharp with tension.

Jake wished he could talk to the ’Mech pilots instead of just listen,

but realized he had nothing useful to say. They already knew more

than he did.

First Alpha Lance, already prepping in the shadow of the trans-

ports to take second watch, scrambled to join First Gamma. First

Beta, which had had third watch, would be in the sack. So would

Second Company; they’d just come off twelve hours of night ma-

neuvers.

Farther away to their left, the square shape of New Mumbai

stood out sharply against the rolling prairie land. Invisible at

this distance were the temporary buildings surrounding Mosiro

University’s excavation site.

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 3

“Scuttlebug to Beetles,” Jake said into his helmet mic. He quickly

advised the two other tanks, which lacked his command scanner,

of the situation as J. Edgar plunged back into the high grasses.

“Dig perimeter, best speed,” he concluded. “Let Captain Peregrine

know you’re there.”

Barns and Trace acknowledged. It would be long minutes before

they got there—the Vedettes could make about seventy-five kph

over the undulating prairie—but Peregrine Junior might appreci-

ate having a couple of medium tanks in the hole. If they got there

in time.

“Teddi.”

The driver nodded again and angled the hover tank into a shal-

low arc that would place them between the University expedition

they were protecting and whatever was advancing on One Gamma

Lance. Her record said she had driven transports before being

drafted into the Irregular’s infant armor platoon. Watching the

purple prairie flash past, Jake suspected the solidly-built sergeant

was a frustrated aerospace fighter pilot.

“Madre di Dios!” Alejandro Fuentes’ voice cut through the gen-

eral chatter on the scanner.

“I see them,” Clint acknowledged.

“But sensors don’t,” the Hussar pilot responded. “I can’t get a

weapons lock.”

“Malfunction?”

“Then I got it, too,” Dora Campbell cut in. “Computers can’t ID,

targeting can’t lock.”

Jake cursed under his breath. The turret of the J. Edgar was less

than knee-high on his old Grasshopper. He was used to a com-

manding view of the battlefield. Down here in the grass, rolls of

earth a BattleMech could traverse without breaking stride cut him

off from the unfolding situation.

“One Gamma Able to command,” Clint broadcast. “Four un-

known medium ’Mechs, no visible markings. Grid piper-four-two,

vector incoming, closing at seven-zero kph, estimate thirteen min-

utes to perimeter.”

“Thermals in the grass,” Campbell’s voice was calm. “We got

infantry, too.”

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 4

Jake nodded to himself. Campbell’s Vulcan was well able to de-

fend itself against most infantry threats. In this grassland, a ’Mech

with a flamer had little to fear from ground troops.

“One Gamma Able to command,” Clint repeated. “Respond.”

Jake kicked the scanner’s gain to maximum, but heard nothing

but static on the general channel. He keyed his mic.

“Mierda!”

“Scramble, Dro,” Clint ordered. “It’s got your number.”

Before Jake could ask, Fuentes’ Hussar crested the rise ahead,

sidestepping just in time to miss the speeding hover tank. Two

beams, large lasers from the look of them, slashed through the

space the ’Mech would have occupied if Fuentes hadn’t swerved.

Teddi kicked the throttle, throwing the J. Edgar over the low ridge

in a belly-dropping leap.

A broad-shouldered ’Mech Jake had never seen before was de-

scending the next roll of prairie, bearing down on them at speed.

Forty, maybe fifty tons, he estimated—flat and low with large la-

sers at either end.

Laid out like a Bushwacker’s third cousin.

The tank’s targeting system didn’t stand a chance against ECM

that blinded BattleMechs. Estimating combined speed at two

hundred klicks, Jake sighted visually on the sandy-tan bogie and

touched off the short-range missiles.

Taking that as her cue, Teddi swung the tank through a skittering

arc, out of the ’Mech’s path.

What the hell is that thing?

Jake triggered the heavy machineguns, raking the forward-thrust

cockpit in an effort to distract the ’Mech jockey. No hope of doing

damage. Before the ’Mech disappeared from his ferroglass view-

port, he saw three of the missiles fly uselessly wide and the fourth

hit high on the left leg, just below the hip.

The strange ’Mech ignored them, continuing its pursuit of the

fleeing Hussar.

“Sergeant.”

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 5

“On it.”

The arc became a loop and the hover tank flew after the mysteri-

ous BattleMech.

“Right up the arse, Teddi.”

“Always a pleasure, sir,” his driver replied.

Lining up on the heels of the retreating ’Mech, she stood on the

accelerator. Jake’s head snapped back as the J. Edgar leapt for-

ward.

Overtaking at fifty or sixty kph relative, they were ascending the

next rise before Jake was satisfied with their range. Close enough

to count rivets, he jacked the SRM 2s to their maximum elevation

and let fly.

He had a fleeting glimpse of the ’Mech’s left foot as Teddi dodged

just enough to pass at paint-scrape range.

“Break away,” he ordered, cycling a fresh flight of missiles into

the tubes.

The fans whined, the skirts spilling air as the tank spun through

a hairpin one-eighty.

The targeting system was useless, the screens showing echoes

and ghosts where the enemy ’Mech should be.

“Bring us up hull down on the next ridge,” Jake said. “I want to

have a look.”

Teddi threw the tank over the low crest in another belly-dropping

leap, then pulled it into a button-hook turn that slewed into a side-

ways stop. Definitely aerospace.

Jake undogged the top hatch and eased it up a few centime-

ters for a quick look. Pushing back his faceplate, he brought his

field glasses to his eyes. Magnified to arm’s length, the hide of

the retreating ’Mech revealed two smoking scars below the back-

wards-hinged right knee assembly and a third low on the rear

torso.

“Looks like—”

Pain seared through his skull. The sky beyond the ’Mech dis-

appeared in a blinding flare. With a curse, he dropped the field

glasses, tumbling back into his seat.

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 6

“What happened?”

“Flash blind,” Jake answered, trying to keep it matter-of-fact.

“Targeting get anything?”

He heard a series of clicks as the driver toggled through tactical

screens that were normally his domain. White tinged with purple

against his lids, the afterimage of the flash was spread across the

horizon, with four streaks reaching up to the sky. Or down from it.

Orbital bombardment? Nothing he knew burned like that.

“Something hot,” Teddi said, “the whole prairie’s on fire. Ground

zero at—”

Her voice broke off.

Jake pushed against his eyes as though pressure would help his

optic nerves recover faster and gave her time to process.

“Captain Jacoam,” Teddi said at last, all bravado gone from her

voice.

Her formality braced him.

“They took out the DropShips.”

Civilian ships. Unarmed.

With Second Company on board.

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 7

Al-Ilb, Mosiro

Mosiro Archipelago

04 April 3067

Captain Ariel Peregrine looked out over the forests and rivers of

Mosiro.

The rivers were artful in the aesthetic precision of their curving

courses. The forests seemed to form a patchwork, as well man-

nered as cultivated groves of hardwoods or fruit trees.

From behind her vantage point on the wall of the university en-

clave, Ariel could hear the muted thunder of the waterfalls that

cascaded from the white cliffs that defined the northern edge of

Al-Ilb, just as the cliffs dropping away before her marked the city’s

southern extreme. She could hear the laughing voices of children

calling to one another from beneath the canopies of flowering

vines that festooned the hanging gardens suspended a hundred

meters below. But she could see no one and the words were lost

in the echoes and birdcalls.

The capital city of Mosiro stretched to her left and right behind

her, following the serpentine curves of the nearly vertical Great

Barrier. The ledge on which it was built varied in depth from one to

three kilometers. White buildings of traditional Muslim architec-

ture roofed with tiles of a dozen earth and sea tones, set off from

the gleaming white cliff face by thick groves and vines and carpets

of dark green foliage and unexpected explosions of color.

Ariel would have built the city at the top of the sheer cliffs, along

the shore of the huge freshwater lake that fed the Al-Ilb’s dozen

waterfalls. Or perhaps by the warm and tumultuous ocean that

girdled the planet’s equator. Halfway up a kilometers-tall cliff

would never have occurred to her.

Though I’m glad it occurred to them. She inhaled deeply of the

spicy-sweet scents rising from the hanging gardens. This alone is

worth the trip.

“Yes.”

Ariel started, stepping slightly away as she turned to face the

man suddenly at her elbow.

“My apologies, Captain,” Doctor Hannan, Director of History for

the Mosiro University of Al-Ilb, bowed a few degrees from the

waist. “I had not meant to startle you.”

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 8

“Yes, what, sir?” Ariel asked, thinking that a culture that favored

soft slippers should require its citizens to wear bells.

“I was merely agreeing with your mood, which your enraptured

gaze expressed so eloquently,” the elderly academic indicated the

view with a fluid gesture. “The view from Al-Ilb is what prompted

my family to settle here nearly three centuries ago. I have taught

at the University for half a dozen decades and visit this vantage

almost daily. It never fails to enthrall.”

Turning from her, the doctor looked out over the expanse and

inhaled deeply, as though taking the world into his lungs.

After a moment Ariel realized he didn’t intend to add more.

“If I’m imposing...”

“Nonsense,” Hannan flashed a brief smile. “Beauty is not a finite

commodity. It can be shared without loss.”

From somewhere behind them a tenor voice, clear and reedy,

carried through the air. Ariel did not understand the Arabic words,

but she knew the call’s intent. She shifted her weight uncomfort-

ably as Hannan matter-of-factly unrolled a rectangle of thin fabric

she hadn’t realized he carried.

“Captain Peregrine,” he said, not looking in her direction, “I am

aware of the civil codes requiring all citizens and visitors to obey

the Muezzin’s call to prayer. However, I have always failed to see

how forcing an unbeliever to go through motions that mean noth-

ing to her honors God.”

Sensing a response was not required, Ariel bowed her head and

moved a few steps away to offer an extra measure of privacy for

the man’s prayers.

For the last two days, as the university’s history department had

made final preparations for its dig on El Giza, she’d been trapped

in public a half dozen times when the Muezzin’s call had brought

everyone around her to their knees. She hadn’t been able to pray

along, of course. What she knew of Islam wouldn’t cover half a

noteputer screen and she understood the Arabic language even

less.

However, she had thought more about faith during her brief stay

on Mosiro than she had since her father had died. Maybe that’s

what the planetary church government—at the moment the body’s

name escaped her—had had in mind when they made the law.

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 9

Today, however, with the afternoon sun slanting across the

spectacular fields and the Chaos Irregulars’ current employer

murmuring intently, she thought about the mission.

The nearby world of El Giza had been established by First Lord

Nicholas Cameron as one of the Star League’s commerce centers

over four centuries ago. Located on what had then been the bor-

der between the two states, the Star League’s El Giza mint had

produced the currency for both the Capellan Confederation and

the Free Worlds League. It had been a political and commercial

nexus. Merchants, politicians and corporations had traveled from

across half the League to trade commodities, technologies, and

influence.

Of course, the Star League hadn’t depended on everyone’s

goodwill and respect for the best interests of the whole to protect

El Giza. There had been a massive SLDF base in place to keep ev-

eryone honest.

That deterrent, and the world it had protected, had fallen in the

First Succession War. Recognized as a valuable prize by all sides,

the world changed hands violently a dozen times in as many years

before the Free Worlds League had been able to make its claim

permanent.

By then El Giza was a smoking ruin. The SLDF base was destroyed.

The cities, which had been centers of learning, entertainment, and

technology, were looted—often razed to the ground to deny ad-

vancing enemies what little assets they retained.

In the long years since the First Succession War, El Giza’s few

survivors had rebuilt their world as best they could. After nearly

three hundred years, they were still struggling to be self-support-

ing, wearily resenting the treasure hunters they could not stop.

Now the University of Al-Ilb had discovered records that might

indicate a repository of cultural information in one of the ruined

cities of El Giza. It was a prize of interest only to scholars, but they

feared any expedition to El Giza was likely to excite potentially

dangerous interest.

Ariel suspected pilferage and looting would be a greater prob-

lem than a hostile military action. Anyone familiar with El Giza’s

history would know there was nothing of tactical or technical val-

ue left to plunder. She expected their infantry to be of more use

than their BattleMechs.

BATTLECORPS

Encounter at El Giza • Page 10

Having evidently finished his prayers, Professor Hannan rerolled

his mat unhurriedly and turned to smile at Ariel.

“If you would be so kind as to accompany me,” he said as she

rose, “we can discuss the final arrangements for our expedition.”

Ariel smiled slightly at the Mosiroan’s implication that they were

equal partners in the venture. Reluctantly turning her back on the

breathtaking vista, she followed Hannan toward his office.

“I suppose this stuff is familiar,” Jake said, swatting the dust from

his knees as he regained his feet.

“My people are Sikh,” Reema reminded him, tugging her family

jacket into place.

“Right,” he said, trying to remember if he’d ever known that. “I

suppose Lieutenant Christian would have to be a Christian.”

“You’d have to ask him,” Reema’s tone was shorter than usual.

Jake credited her mood to her mending injuries. Though he had

shed his casts and she her body brace, both he and his sergeant

were still stiff from wounds neither one of them should have sur-

vived.

All around them along the narrow street people were rising from

prayer, exchanging smiles and chattering. The scene had more

sense of shared community than he was used to seeing on an

urban street.

There might be something to this state religion thing. Not that

he gave much thought to absolutes. His own prayers, usually ut-

tered when death was imminent, were more general “to whom it

may concern” broadcasts than attempts to communicate with a

specific deity. But the evident goodwill and camaraderie shared

by the citizens of Al-Ilb indicated there might be a practical upside

to religious faith.

The narrow street they followed would have been an alley by the

standards of most planetary capitals, but space was at a premium

in the narrow city built along the face of a cliff. Most vehicular

traffic flowed through tunnels carved into the stone edifice rising

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BATTLECORPSENCOUNTERATELGIZAbyKevinKillianyBATTLECORPSEncounteratElGiza•Page2PlainsofAlJizah,ElGizaMosiroArchipelago17May3067“Thermalcontact!”LieutenantDoraCampbell’svoicebarkedfromthescanner’sspeaker,flatandtinnyinthecrampedturret.JakeJacoamsteppedupthegainastheVulcanpilotreadoutherlocation.“Gottho...

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Kevin Killiany - Battletech - Encouter at El Giza

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