Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 81
Dawn stole over Xilbalba, dim and lacklustre as always. The skycurrents were torpid this day, thick clouds cracking in places to allow hints of blue to be spied. Perhaps the sun would even be seen at some point, but the people cared not. The sinkhole cities were still in bedlam, the king was missing and presumed dead and the PDF was chasing Greenskin contacts in all corners. Even the criminal underworld was quiet, hiding in sullen silence. Amid all the anarchy it was not surprising a lone Quad-4 went unremarked.
The hidden fortress lay far behind, not even the smoke of its destruction could be seen anymore. Many hours they had been driving in a straight line, and the vista ahead promised nothing more than hours of the same. The air was cold, bitter with metallic flavours, not that he cared. To him it was nothing more than statical data to be parsed, neither enjoyed nor reviled. Magos Tvos was satisfied to sit behind the Heavy Bolter and await his arrival.
As they sped along Tvos checked his vox one more time, half-expecting to receive a message, but there was none. The arrival of the Smoke Jaguars had prompted him to disappear. Tvos was no Secutor of the Skitarii, nor a Forgelord of fearsome aspect. A lowly genator, specialised for research, not combat. The statistical odds of him surviving a clash between orders of Transhuman were hilariously low, and so he had removed himself from the equation. He had expected to return soon enough, but the cessation of life-signs from Methuselah had upset his designs. The Bronze Beast was dead, the hidden bio-sensors Tvos had built into various organs were as reliable as they were genius. The facts were stark: Methuselah was dead and Tvos' prospects of survival had altered radically.
"Engines' running dry," his driver muttered.
"Maintain this heading," Tvos instructed.
"We won't have enough juice to get back."
"That has been accounted for," Tvos rebuffed, "Continue as ordered."
The man gritted his teeth as he hunched over the wheel, gunning the straining engine irately. The Quad-4 was struggling, the Magos' weighed considerably more than the average person's, and his luggage was testing the suspension. His driver wasn't light either, a rotund man, with rolls of fat and many chins. Ganger leathers proclaimed him one of Methuselah's personal guard, a criminal born who had gored himself on the fruits of sin. The many scars on his face and hands told that he was no weakling but had fought for every morsel.
A thunderclap above attracted Tvos' eye lenses. The clouds were being disturbed by sonic booms, spreading waves like ripples in a pond. Something was descending at rapid velocity, straight from orbit. He magnified his sight and spied a tiny speck tearing out of a distant cloud, an Astartes pattern drop-pod, one of many given the turbulence above. Tvos internal cogitators whirred but concluded the pod was not heading anywhere near him, it was steering for the nearest Sinkhole city, which led to further conclusions.
Tvos reviewed a timeline and determined that enough hours had elapsed for a vox-signal to be transmitted and a ship to be diverted from Marajo. Conclusion: the Smoke Jaguars had survived their encounter and summoned their Chapter to impose order on Xilbalba. The Smoke Jaguars were not sneaking in by Shadowhawk but making a bold entrance of thunder and fury. Conclusion: they wanted to be seen. Tvos calculated that they would swiftly restore order to the panicked masses, one way or another, but also seize control of the fortress. The odds of them failing to learn of his involvement were scant, the prospects of them seeking to find him were high. Conclusion: he needed to hurry.
The Quad-4 rumbled along for another hour, kicking up clouds of dust. The driver kept glancing at the fuel gauge, but Tvos had calculated they had sufficient to reach their goal. Sure enough the tiny machine finally stumbled upon their destination, a pit of a dig site, exposing a pre-Imperial outpost, the same one he and Methuselah had dug up many days ago. The site had been abandoned, left undisturbed, already drifting ash was piling up around the foundations, but that was all to the good.
As the machine pulled up Tvos ordered, "Unload the power cells and the storage units."
"Why should I?" the driver hissed with narrow eyes.
"The Bronze Beast requires it," Tvos bluffed.
"He... he wants..."
"Wait, you are dehydrated. Drink this water," Tvos instructed.
"You brought this for me, thanks I guess. Names' Dergranoc, you can call me Derg..."
Tvos didn't bother replying as he offered a canteen to the guard. The man guzzled it all greedily then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Refreshed he jumped out of the Quad-4 and unloaded several bulky boxes and a large container as long as a man. Tvos climbed out of the other side and bent to retrieve several smaller items, but far more precious. Luggage retrieved the pair trudged into the pit, ash spraying from their footsteps as they approached the outpost.
Tvos entered first and found the interior as he had left it, filled with assorted tools and equipment. Much of it was arcane and esoteric, the rest of no use to him, but the primary worth of this outpost wasn't the relics within but its inconspicuous nature. It had taken Methuselah decades of searching to find this place, and he knew what he was looking for, the odds of someone just stumbling on the outpost were acceptably low. Orbital surveillance was always challenging on Xilbalba and aerial flights were few. This was the perfect place to hide.
"Set down the power cells and connect the refrigeration unit," Tvos ordered.
"And what will you be doing?" Derg grumbled.
"Preparing," Tvos stated.
As the guard fumbled with the bulky devices Tvos set down his precious cargo. Canopic jars, filled with the issue of his genius mind. Unfertilised Pariah Ova, ripe for experimentation and crossbreeding. The possibilities were many, and his biological components felt a quiver of excitement at what he could do with them, but that was nothing set against the other jar. Progenoids, torn from Engar before he died, all the zygotes required to create Space Marine implants. Tvos had studied Thunder Warrior physiology and found it sub-optimal, strong to be sure but catastrophically unstable. Astartes genomes were far more sophisticated, stable and long-lived. His knowledge of the Cataegis, married with Astartes Progenoids and Pariah Ova, what amazing creations he could fashion with such base components.
The click of a laspistol arming made him turn. Derg was standing in the middle of the outpost, his gun pointed straight at Tvos. A double-cross, not surprising, the Magos knew his allies well and had expected no less. Was it planned or spur of the moment, that remained to be seen.
"Your betrayal is early, I calculated another five minutes before you tried to kill me," Tvos remarked coolly.
"I'm not stupid," Derg sneered, "You only loaded enough fuel for a one-way trip. You didn't plan for us to return."
"You are a thousand kilometres from civilisation, you lack the food and water to walk to shelter."
"I'll figure something out, but I'm not going to leave you alive to shoot me in the back," Derg spat.
"I have no need to shoot you, not when you are already dead," Tvos informed him.
Derg winced as a stomach cramp ripped through him, making him double over. He gasped as his guts seized tight, painful waves making him drop his gun and reel backwards. Sweat beaded his brow, and his throat closed, going from a strong man to a crippled invalid in seconds. Giardia from the jungles of Copan XII, tiny parasites that infested the guts of any who drank contaminated water. The canteen Tvos had given the guard was packed with them, and they awoke the moment Derg's lips touched the water. Now they infested his innards, causing debilitating pain and a slow and messy death.
Tvos moved to the power cells and checked all was in order as he remarked, "You were correct to deduce this was a one-way trip, but you underestimated my timeframe."
"You... damn... you..." Derg hissed as his guts cramped in agony and his bowels rumbled in distress.
Tvos continued, "The Smoke Jaguars are hunting me, or will be very soon, and they enjoy considerably extended lifespans. Dropping out of sight for a handful of years will not suffice, I must ensure they are all dead before I can risk showing my face again. I am no warrior, I cannot fight them, so I must outlast them. Conservatively I judge several centuries will be required, but I will not underestimate them, a millennia to be safe I think."
Derg waved his hand, "Help me..."
Tvos ignored the plea as he lifted the lid on the refrigerator, "Sadly I have no access to stasis-chambers, so I must be innovative. These power cells can run my equipment for that long and, in a low-energy state, can sustain my mechanical components. The biological aspects of my body are an issue though. I can adopt metabolic stasis to arrest ageing, but even then I must replenish my protein stores every few decades. That's where you come in."
Derg gasped as he tried to straighten up, but Tvos grabbed him by the jacket and shoved him into the refrigerator. The lid slammed closed and he locked it, then engaged the mechanisms. Frantic bashing sounded for a few seconds, then a wave of cryogenic gases swept over Derg and froze him into an icy statue. Tvos was satisfied the power cells would keep his flesh in an edible state for the projected timeline. The man had boasted the highest body mass index among Methuselah's guards, and Tvos had chosen him precisely for the meat on his bones. The Giardia were no concern, the Magos had long since replaced his digestive tract with steel and chrome.
Tvos took a moment to ensure his precious samples were safe. The outpost's open door was a problem, but drifting ash would cover it in a few decades. Digging his way out might be a hindrance, so he made sure to leave a reserve of power when he eventually chose to emerge. Satisfied Tvos connected his internal batteries to the power cells then adopted his lowest possible energy state. As sleep washed over him the Magos whispered, "The Bronze Beast may be dead but his dream lives on."