Cloud Runner glanced around at the other Terminators. He hoped he had told the story well enough to catch his listeners' minds and remind them of their duty to the Emperor. He hoped he had reminded them that they had all made the same decision as he had and that they would once more make the correct choice.
He shook his head and touched the charm of braided hair that he still wore round his throat He wondered if he had made the correct choice all those years ago, if he would have been happier staying with Running Deer. The bright, bold vision he had possessed in his youth had faded and lost its glamour over the years of endless warfare. I never even said goodbye to her, he thought, and that somehow was the saddest thought of all.
He judged that he had swayed many of the Marines, but when Lame Bear leaned forward to speak; he knew the struggle had only begun.
'I would speak of Genestealers." the big man said quietly. 'I would speak of Genestealers, their terror and their cruelty…"
Chapter III
Two Heads Talking wandered the nighted streets. They seemed empty now that the workers had returned to their barracks. A slight breeze had sprung up, blowing flecks of ash through the streets, clearing the smog slightly. A bitter ash-taste filled his mouth.
He passed by the factories where giant steam engines stood, still working. Their din filled the air. Their pistons went up and down like the nodding heads of maddened dinosaurs. He knew they never rested.
He strode down a street of rich mansions, driven by morbid curiosity. He felt as though he had been shown the pieces of a vast puzzle, and if he could only locate the last piece, it would all fall into place.
Each mansion he passed had wrought-iron gates which bore the signs of the Night-owl, the Puma and the Rat. These were the totem animals of the Hill Clans. Two Heads Talking wondered whether the chieftains of these people dwelled within. He could well believe that they might make pacts with whoever had done this. Those people had dark reputations.
He felt anger grow within him, driving out the sense of bewilderment. His life had been rendered meaningless. His people had been betrayed. His world had been stolen. Even the Dark Angels had been destroyed. Ten thousand years of tradition ended here. There were no more bold huntsmen of the plains for the Sky-Warriors to recruit.
The Chapter might continue, but its heritage had been destroyed - it would never be the same again. Two Heads
Talking was of the last generation of Marines recruited from the Plains People. There would be no more.
As he moved beyond the mansions, toward the polluted river, his spirit senses warned him he was being followed. Part of him did not care, he would welcome confrontation with whatever watchers shadowed him. From up ahead. he heard a groan of pain.
"We do not know where they come from." said Lame Bear. "Not even the Curators of the Administratum know that. They appear without warning, carried in the mighty space hulks which drift on the tides of warp space."
A shiver passed through even these hardened Terminators. Cloud Runner saw the gaze of those who had faced the
Genestealer turn inward. Their faces reflected the grim memories of the encounters.
Unconsciously, they sat up straighter and looked around nervously. For the first time, it was brought home to the
Captain that they really did face the Genestealers once more. They faced a threat that could kill them.
"They are dreadful foes: ferocious, relentless, knowing neither pity nor fear. They do not use weapons, perhaps because they do not need them. Their claws are capable of tearing adamantium like paper.
"They do not use armour; their hides are so tough that they can survive, for a time, unsuited in vacuum. They have the aspect of a beast, yet they are intelligent and organised. They are the most terrible enemies any Marine has faced since the time of the Horus Heresy.
"How do I know this? I have faced than, as have others here."