Outside of the mine, two loud blasts and a semi-sounding of the siren heralded the arrival of the _Parvan's Claw_ at the base of the gently rising hill the mine was set into the side of. The ramp at the bow of the land-ship slowly motored down, along with smaller ones from the sides. A recovery vehicle grumbled down the ramp, heading for the prostrate form of Kuraiko's GEAR. Alongside it, Irry's _Harlock_ kept pace, moving at a slow jog, a GEAR-scale hand-held shotgun held in both arms, and hardpoints tooled up with close-range firepower. Reaching the flattened area of the mine workings and the mouth to the only still-standing mineshaft, she briefly gave a casual salute to Ken, before the GEAR darted into the tunnel workings to back up Adrian and Silverwind. 

With a hissing crackle and pop, the voice of Rye Dellen, the female squirrel who acted as the _Claw's_ traffic controller burst into life over Ken's headphones. 
"Maxwell, we've got a transient sensor contact at the edge of our range. Magnetic Interference is cutting down our radar and sensor systems dramatically, and the area is geologically unstable, so we can't get firm seismic readings. We need an aerial reconnaissance, as it looks like another Landcruiser, and it's in the direction the hostile GEARs fled in."
She paused, and the Captains' voice came on the channel, reassuring, firm and commanding. She spoke swiftly and clearly.
"Ken, just to be clear - do not engage the bogey. We want a confirmation of ID, and clear pictures of the contact. As soon as you've made visual contact and you've gathered as much information as you can, return to the ship. Don't engage, break contact if you're fired upon. Understood? Good luck and happy hunting".

In the mine itself, Blade squared up to the edge of the rough rocky archway leading into the next cavern. He had no more ammo for the rifle, and his miniguns were in the red part of their ammo counter. He still had mortar rounds, but the ceiling was too low for them to be effective. 
He was about to think on improvising, before another 'friendly' IFF tag showed in his rear quarter, and a standard late-model _Harlock_ in two-tone badlands camouflage. 
"Blade, Kelsea - I have more ammo for you both, if you're running low. Not to mention, I bought a party favour".
She hefted the shotgun in her GEARs' metal hands, before reaching with one into storage compartments attached to the waist hardpoints and passing over magazines. Blade gratefully reloaded the autocannon rifle, and resumed his position stacked up on the door, but this time allowing Irry to take point with the GEAR-scale shotgun. 
"Ready," she called out. He clicked his mike in affirmative, and sent a simple 'stand ready' notice to Adrian. After he tapped the rear of Irry's machine, she wheeled around the corner and charged ahead, shotgun raised high. 
The second cavern was smaller, but the bandits had evidently held back their last weapons for here, and they were the last resort. A couple of 'hillbilly armoured' mining trucks, they had scavenged old GEAR weapons from the wastes and crudely mounted them to the dump-truck beds of the vehicles. Aiming them wildly, they fired, and the walls were stitched with 25mm pock-marks, before Irry's shotgun blasted one into scrap. Blade went right as she went straight on. A gutsy machine-gunner team were opening up on the GEARs, hammering them with medium-caliber rounds. From inside the cockpit, the machine resonated to the sound of hammering fire, and a couple of minor warnings flashed into the holographic interface. The assistant gunner raised a grenade launcher, and with a grimace, Blade gunned them both down with a burst from the miniguns. 
At the opposite side, a team in waiting rappelled down onto Adrian's GEAR and began setting about placing charges, while another bandit on a high ledge began to take careful shots at the _Hyper-Saber's_ head sensory arrays, or other vital locations - although, with the close range and the amount of movement in the cavern, it was no easy task. 
The biggest thing of note was the pre-fab blocky shapes forming a set of offices (no doubt converted into living space) in the rear corner of the room, seeming stretching into a hollowed out alcove big enough for it's roof and dimensions. Other than that, there were no further vehicles, and no more armed personnel to challenge their progress. 

The group of humbled bandits had laid their weapons down, and assumed the pose of captured personnel under Nathanials' comand with no complaints. A few peered interestedly at the discussion between the men and women of the group, but soon turned their eyes away at a glance in return, content to be out of the fighting for the meantime. The six of them were fairly similar in equipment, and between the men and women there was a reasonable range of ages and builds on display, as well as species. 
The most obvious candidate for 'weakest', however, was a young-looking and relatively slight in build pine marten. His clothes virtually hung off of his frame, and he looked the most startled and unsure of the group, glancing with a mix of awe and fear at Es's squad and the shape of the GEAR, two and a half times their size, backing them up.