"The Predator threw the piece of the airplane's rudder into a corner and sat down in the huge black bone chair that dominated the bridge of its spaceship. The chair had been carved from the thigh bone of the Predator's greatest conquest, killed in single combat in a desert environment, under green binary suns, with a crippling blow to the back of the head. The Predator tasted a hundred kinds of air, and a hundred flavors of blood. It had met so many foes that it couldn't remember them all except by calling them up on its helmet display, and by the scars it carried all over its body. A thousand worlds the Hunt has honored, and a thousand to come." pg145 Chapter 33