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kid. We ’ ll get you out of here as soon as we can! ”
    Corporal Tonelli and Private Krueger carried Telk outside and dumped him in the roadway.
    “ I hope you bleed to death, asshole! ” yelled Tonelli, tossing Telk a couple bandages. “ You almost got us killed! ”
    “ Help me, ” pleaded Telk. “ I ’ m dying! ”
    “ It ’ s just a few scratches, ” advised Krueger, walking away. “ You ’ ll be okay when the pain stops. ”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Two alien shadows were cast where Private Telk lay. He looked up, startled by black uniforms of the Arthropodan Intelligentsia State Security Police. The Nazi - looking spiders were not happy.
    “ You human pestilence are trespassing, ” announced the spider officer. “ You will leave immediately! ”
    “ We are pursuing terrorists as allowed by treaty, ” replied Sergeant Williams. “ Contact your superiors. They know of our mission. ”
    “ You mission does not permit destroying homes. Your Legion has no respect for property or boundaries. You will move on, or else! ”
    Private Telk, normally mild mannered, boiled with rage. He reached in his pouch for another grenade, fingering the timer buttons. “ Nazi scum, ” he muttered, working up the courage to kill. “ We ’ re the Legion! We go where we please! ”
    The I ntelligentsia officer gazed contemptuously down at Private Telk, still bleeding in the dirt. “ Your soft skin, barely held together by frail bones and cart illa ge, is so inferior, it is truly amazing you human pestilence survived long enough to become a sentient species. ”
    “ Humanity should have wiped you out long ago, ” countered Telk. “ We were here first! ”
    Corporal Tonelli held out a hand to help Private Telk up. Telk dusted off his vest. Private Krueger handed Telk his assault rifle. Sergeant Williams moved between the Telk and the spider officer. “ Pay no attention to Telk, ” insisted Sergeant Williams. “ He ’ s just a new recruit private that don ’ t know no better. We are done here. We ’ ll be moving on. ”
    “ I thought so, ” smirked the other Intelligentsia officer. “ The Legion is a paper tiger. ”
    “Damn Nazis,” Telk grumbled, following the rest of his fellow legionnaires. “If it were up to me, they’d all be dead.” His mind conjured another fantasy to assuage the spiders’ insult...
     
    * * * * *
     
    Randal Nico Telk was a loner, his childhood friends, family, and neighbors long ago deported to the Belzec Extermination Camp by the Nazi Occupation and their collaborators. The Nazi invaders decimated Romani communities all over Europe, killing hundreds of thousands. His own government in Romania jumped to do the Nazis ’ bidding.
    Now the war was over , and the Nazi ’ s vanquished. Some suggested everyone forget the Romani Hol o c au st . ‘N ostalgia is a luxury for others ,’ they said . ‘ Forget the Unhappy Years. Only criminals were rounded up by the roving death squads. It was mostly Gypsies, v agrants, v agabonds, and the w ork - shy the Nazis killed. M any were just deported. Move on. ’
    “ I will not move on, and I will not forget! ” shouted Telk, kicking in the apartment door of Hans Wirth, Nazi death camp administrator from southeast Poland. The Nazi race and eugenicist researcher escaped justice by claiming his pursuits were merely academic and had nothing to do with death camps. Telk knew better. Wirth used the Romani for his medical experiments, killing innocents in pressure tanks, with experimental drugs, by freezing, and i njecting chemicals to change eye color. Telk ’ s one blue eye and one brown eye w ere proof enough of that.
    Another reminder from his boyhood was the pink unicorn tattooed on his forearm. The Nazi ’ s had done it as a joke. That which doesn ’ t kill you, makes you stronger. After escaping Belzec, Telk grew up tough and mean, his fists got hard and wits got keen. What else could he do? Telk would kill that man who gave him that