[ WP ] Be afraid . For when the gods created man , they created him not in their own image , but to appease what lurks in the void .

I once asked Major Novak if he believed in God. 
 
 He told me he did not, but he sure as hell believed in the Devil. When I asked him why he told him,'I see him every time I look in the mirror.' 
 
 -- 
 
 The Heavy PPC blast hit the pirate *SRM Carrier* in its ammunition bays, the remaining two tons of the short-rang missiles tearing the sixty ton vehicle apart in a blaze of fire and burning metal. Almost miraculously one of the crew members was not killed instantly. Instead one pirate, likely the driver pulled himself out of the inferno, his clothes and skin shrouded in flames. Perhaps it was Major Tycho Novak's imagination but he swore he could hear the man screaming through several inches of armored glass as his flesh melted off his bones and eyes burst under the intense heat. Novak could see one of Dust Company's battle armor soldiers near the dying pirate. He shook his head and witched his comm system to the infantry channel. 
 
 `` Do n't shoot. Let him die slow.'' 
 
 The battle armor trooper glanced up at his fifty-five ton *Wolverine, * waving a battle clawed hand to signify that he understood before he continuing on, leaving the pirate to writhe and contort in agony, his limbs curling together as his skin blackened and cracked. Major Novak pushed his throttle forward, the shadow of his battlemech crossing over the smoking corpse for a brief second. 
 
 Elsewhere the pirates were retreating pell mell, leaving their comrades high and dry in an effort to make it to safety. Worthless bastards. All that did was hasten their demise. A platoon of pirate infantry took refuge in a farmer's barn, daring any of Novak's Grave Guards to near. Sergeant Yuri Petrenko in his *Firestarter* advanced towards them, ignoring the splash of machine gun and rifle fire that sparked off his black painted armor. Several of the pirates began throwing their weapons out of the windows at the sight of the terrible mech, waving handkerchiefs to signal their surrender. No sell. 
 
 ***Whumpth! *** 
 
 From just sixty meters away, the *Firestarter* lived up to its name, its four flamers sending a massive spray of superheated fusion exhaust over the defenders. The bone dry wood of the barn caught instantly, the men lit like moths to a candle. Grave Guard infantry took pot shots at anyone trying to escape, waiting until the screaming stopped and the only sound was that of the crackling flames. 
 
 Major Novak pressed forward, taking an occasional shot as a foe moved into view. An enemy locust crossed his vision and he reacted instantly, squeezing the trigger to his Heavy PPC and sending a stream of man-made lightning across the smoking battlefield. The blast snapped the twenty ton mech's left leg clean off, sending the tiny machine tumbling. He did n't see an ejection seat. Pilot must've disabled it. He spied a lone pirate crawling away, his legs shredded to uselessness. An autocannon round must've exploded close to him, as there was a blackened piece of earth and a spread of bodies around it. A streak of red stained the ground behind the crawling figure. Even moving at ten km/h he easily caught up to the wounded man, his crosshairs leveled over the blood stained tunic of the pirate and his finger hovering over the trigger. He shook his head and lifted his finger. 
 
 *Not worth the effort. * 
 
 Instead he pushed his throttle forward, his metal feet thudding closer and closer towards the crawling pirate. The man started screaming, blubbering fervent prayers. He lost sight of the man below his view but knew the man died as his screams were suddenly cut off underneath fifty-five tons of death. Major Novak continued on, the bloody remains of a man left in his wake.
