Silverwind growled. Enough was enough, and they'd been dicking around with infantry in the mine for long enough. This mission was long overdue to be ended, and it was soaking up too much of their time and resources. He targeted the catwalk Adrian had under fire and unleashed a burst from the last rounds of the [i]Harlock's[/i] autocannon rifle at the structure. With a screech of metal it gave way and clattered to the floor. Pressing on as the dust and noise roared around them, he awkwardly run-shuffled around the remaining obstructions, coming face to face with one of the hostile GEARs. The machine raised its' weapons, and he unleashed a volley of chaff and flares, blinding the civilian-modified GEAR, before body checking it. The added momentum and weight staggered it backward, before he drew his machines' fighting knife, and speared the hostile GEAR through the cockpit, shutting it down in moments. The remaining machine had its' back to the [I]Harlock.[/i] and with its' support down, was easy pickings for the rest of the team to take care of. 
"Take him out," he ordered. "Then press on. We've wasted enough time fucking around in here, and they've taken out enough of our people".

At the barricade, things were changing. As the squad and Mike discussed options, there were raised voices behind the obstruction. People were arguing, but no further firepower came their way. Finally, there were the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, and then a single gunshot - not aimed at any of them - rang out. 
Moments later, a makeshift white flag waved.
"Please, don't shoot!" said a heavily Northern-accented voice. "We surrender! Please, don't shoot, we're opening the barricade and coming out!"
Moments later, the crates and equipment were dragged aside, and a black-furred vulpine emerged, holding the flag up high. A motley assortment of men and women, six in all, followed.None were dressed in truly military gear, but had rough-and-ready practical clothing on, some of it military in nature, and much of the load-bearing gear on it was clearly military in nature. All in all, the classic image of a badlands fighter. 
"The hostages," the fox at the front and the owner of the strong accent said, "they are in the main cave. You can get to them if you cut down this passage. I can show you the way. The main cavern is guarded by the last of our heavy vehicles and equipment. Two military-issue GEARs and a detachment of recoilless rifles. But this way, to the rear, there are only infantry, and a few at that. The prisoners - they are in a portable office, at the rear of the main cave..." he trailed off, eyes wide and searching the faces of the men and women in front of him, and occasionally flicking to the imposing shape of Mike's GEAR behind them. It was clear he was pleading for his life with the information.

In the main cavern, Silverwind closed in on the back of the remaining GEAR. With the rest of the squad advancing from the front, the enemy shut down his power, and assumed a one-kneed stance. Moments later, the pilot emerged from the cockpit, hands above his head. The resistance there had been take care of. All that was left was the main cavern.
"Check ammo and regroup," he growled. "Whatever they have left, they'll either be spoilin' fer a fight and kick us wi' everythin' they got, or roll over an' show us their bellies at the first sign of trouble. I don't wanna go in unprepared either way. Make sure you got a full mag, and are ready to move fast. We can't wait around on this one."