文档介绍：, New Delhi
The old man slumped against the wall, his quick ing in a series
of wheezes. He had the look about him of someone who had not know the touch
of society in many years, his clothes dirty and torn, his face unshaven and his
body unwashed. His left eye was covered by an eye patch. Slowly, he raised his
head to look upon the man who stood over him.
Hunted Predators The man was a Legionnaire. His face bore the tell-tale tattoo that marked
him as a member of the Second—Fortune’s Knights. His uniform was well tended
and cared for, its only ing from the five-block chase he had just
had to make before the old man collapsed in the alley. There was something
strange about his eyes, though. Contempt was gone now. What was left was…
longing?
“What… do you want… from me?” the old man’s voice cracked as he spoke,
his one dark, dull eye examining every shift and change in the face of the
Legionnaire. The Legionnaire seemed to contemplate for a moment, as if he
himself were unsure of his actions. Finally, he licked his lips and uttered a single
sentence:
“I want to understand.”
The old man smiled. Understanding? Is that what the Legionnaires now
sought? It certainly did not seem as if that was what they sought thirteen years
ago when a hundred psions and countless neutrals were massacred in the name of
“human security.”
“So, you want understanding now do you? Now! Don’t you think it is a
little late to be seeking understanding now?” the old man spat. “rades’
blood lies on the hands of you and your murderous friends! You didn’t question
your actions when you killed them! Why not finish the job now!” The Legionnaire
paused for a long second, his hand quivering slightly at his side, tempting him to
do his duty—to exterminate the dark psion, to boil his blood.
“Do you really want it to end likes this?” the Legionnaire finally spoke. “Do
you want me to simply… kill you, to continue that cycle of murder and distr