Snippet #869334

Lieutenant General Berthold Gregor sighed as he stared through the screen of his mech's cockpit at the helpless Ignat mech whose head now found itself in the ruthless grip of the Nagato's unrelented fingers. It wasn't a Zelphune soldier, so he had no reason to take joy in their destruction. However, by no means was he about to spare the Ignat's life. With a simple wrench of the control mechanisms, the Nagato's hand brutally crushed the Ignat mech's head--and with it, its pilot. Blood seeped from the cockpit, and Gregor could only imagine the sickening mess inside it--sickening to anyone but him, anyway. He turned from the now nearly-headless mech, and observed the landscape around him. There were two Nazcrut mechs left of the three he had brought, but neither was moving; in their cockpits, the pilots stared at the Nagato, dumbfounded. Around it were strewn the corpses of what were once mechs; now, unrecognizable piles of broken metal and crushed circuits. In a few minutes, Gregor had mercilessly annihilated the Ignat strike team that had had the great misfortune of being sent in his general direction--with the Nagato's bare hands.
"So this is the Devil of the Nazcrut..." one of the pilots said, making sure he was off the channel connected to Gregor's mech--he could only imagine what would happen if he used the nickname around Gregor.
"Sir, more Ignat mechs could be on their way," the other pilot remarked over the channel. "Should we not leave while we can?"
"Leave?" Gregor's harsh voice issued over the channel, causing the rookiee pilot to jump in his seat. The Nagato turned to the rookiee's mech, and it towered over the rookiee's mech like a vicious panther compared to a timid mouse. Barely audibly, the rookiee whimpered slightly. "Leave now? When we have the enemy coming to our welcoming arms?" Gregor slammed a fist on his seat arm. "I will remain here." The Nagato turned back now to the narrow pass where the first unfortuante strike team had tried to pass through. "Let them come. Hopefully, there will be an ace among them. Are there no skilled pilots amongst the Ignat rabble? I tire of crushing these useless fools without contest."