A missile-team on a rooftop joined in with the bombardment of the GEAR Silver's team had been targeting. The same instant the mortar rounds hit it, their anti-tank missiles pummelled it from the other side, blasting one arm away above the elbow. The mortar rounds slammed the hi-tech, highly armoured machine in all directions, before the missiles fired by the one-eyed fox blasted aside the apparatus secured to its' back, and sent it collapsing to the ground. As Blade moved to close in, the enemy machine darted forward, ankle thrusters flaring. It dodged aside, and instead headed for Irry, who opened fire with her assault rifle/autocannon as it closed in. More chunks of armour blasted and flew away as it closed in. Blade made to move after her, but the third of the trio made that time to show himself, dropping from the sky on back-mounted thrusters. Blade swiftly moved aside, dodging the fly-kick and burst of laser fire, but not far enough to avoid taking a beam down the right side of his machine. Status reports blinked to red, and the arm became jerky and unresponsive as he tried to bring himself to bear. Irry was similarly engaged in close up and personal combat with the other machine.
"Shit," he growled. "Nawlin, help Jacquo! I've got this bastard!"
He ducked as the enemy machine raised its' arm to fire, and instead charged forward, ramming the machine with a grinding of metal and composite, and shoving it off-balance. Left hand and arm still functional, he drew the [i]Harlocks'[/i] combat blade and flipped it into a reversed stabbing-grip, jamming the blade toward the hostile machine. Armour screeched in protest, but the blade found a purchase, digging through. He followed up with a close range barrage of fire from the head-mounted machine guns. The rounds did nothing more than aggrevate the enemy machine, but it was further distraction as he wedged the blade upward, leaving scoring, scarring marks across the enemy machines' armour. 
He yelled blindly; but it was in vain. The hostile machine smashed his GEAR aside almost as an afterthought, before slamming one foot down onto its' already damaged left arm. A pulse of the forearm-mounted lasers sheared through the [i]Harlocks'[/i] right arm, and it reared back, smashing it's armoured feet down onto the grey-cammo GEARs thighs, further crippling the machine. Blade grimaced and snarled inside the cockpit; his machine was functionally immobilized, near destroyed - and if the enemy had their way, it would be. [i]Find something, anything,[/i] he frantically thought to himself, looking around the cockpit with his single eye wide, and his heart hammering. Memories of burning cockpits, of bright, sense-hammering explosions and searing pain clawed their way from the depths, and he looked. His eye fell on the mortar and missile controls, still green and active. With a gurgling howl of defiance, he trained both crosshairs pointblank on the enemy and hammered the fire controls.

***

At the other location, the remaining enemy machine, heavily damaged and smoking, valiantly continued to fight. As Aihara targeted it, it tried to leap, the jets on its' back and legs flaring. It took more altitude than any jump-equipped GEAR would normally, and with far more agility and grace than most, but it was too heavily damaged to sustain it. Under fire from the precise, aimed shots of Kuraiko, it wobbled and dropped, crashing half into a storefront and entangling itself in the street furniture outside and parked vehicles. A heavy weapons infantry team opened up on it at the same instant, further peppering it with fire and leaving smoking holes in its' exposed flank from their anti-armour rockets and anti-materiel rifles, before it sprayed them with flechettes, leaving them as ragged, bloody shapes on the asphalt. As Kuraiko's gunfire picked further at its' joints, it was like a slow, painful death; the death of a thousand cuts. Armour flaked and flayed away as the machine swayed and staggered closer. Smoke and sparks issued from joints, and wiring unfurled. It got closer, close enough to fire a withering particle cannon burst that lashed out wide, missing Kuraiko's GEAR and instead slicing a path through the hull of Adrian's evading GEAR, which skidded sideways into an abandoned bus. Within inches of the [i]Blitzkrieg,[/i] it staggered, reaching out with one smoking hand, the fingertips scratching down the GEARs' chest armour with a screech before it collapsed, smoking, to the ground. 

***

The enemy GEAR was engulfed in a sheet of smoke and fire on Silverwinds' sensors. The feedback at such close range muddled all of his information, and he felt his heart hammer against his ribs, his stomach churning in fear and doubt. Every inch of his fur was pricked and his nerves felt raw.
[i]No[/i], he thought in disbelief.
The enemy GEAR, blackened, near burning, and with half of its' armour and limbs virtually missing, dragged itself limply into the sky, trailing cabling and thick, oily smoke. Back-mounted engines gave it lift, and he watch, jaw dropped, as it [i]flew[/i] away, angling for the hovering transport craft in the near distance, duelling with the Skyhawk. 
Dimly, he became aware that Aihara had asked him something, but his ears were ringing, and the GEARs' comms were full of hissing, popping static and intermittent cutouts. Sparks showered the cockpit, and the smell of acrid smoke was coming from somewhere. Reluctantly, he reached for the emergency hatch release. His GEAR was done. 

Down the street, Irry was in her own struggle. The last remaining Southern GEAR had smashed her back into a wall, pinning her in a narrow alley. Her [i]Harlock-EW[/i] wasn't made for close-up combat; it was an ECM/EW machine. Nonetheless, it was armed, and she was a GEAR pilot. So, she threw herself into the battle. A growl, and she bared her teeth, pumping 40mm hi-ex grenades as the enemy closed in, explosions blanketing and bracketing its' imposing form. Shrapnel and concussions scored its' frame, and creased divots into the armour, before she opened up with the underbarrel shotgun on her GEARs' rifle. It replied with blasts of laser fire, slicing one arm clean off of the [i]Harlock[/I]. Irry skidded her machine back on its' foot wheels, blasting chaff and flares into the enemies' face, and drawing her hatchet as it closed in, the pair busting through a fence and onto a quartet of basketball courts between apartment buildings.
"Nawlin- [i]Mike!"[/i] She yelled into her helmets' mic. "I need some help over here, this guy is planning on cutting me up bit by bit!"
Another laser blast sliced through her GEARs' head, cutting off her visual, and she yelped in fear, smashing emergency release toggles. The top half of her hatch blew away, and the light of early evening flooded in, and she winced. As her eyes refocused, she felt a spear of dread stab into her. The enemy machine was [i]right there,[/i] it's head swivelling with a slight whine as it focused on her, and raised one fist. She remembered the sight of the friendly soldiers turned into chunks of gore, and shielded the open cockpit with the remaining stump of her machines' left arm while leaning into a crouch.
"Mike," she panted into the radio. "I'm going to rush him, grapple him in tight and get him with the axe. Once he's immobilized, hammer him with everything you've got!"
Slamming the throttle and sticks forward, the red panda gave a valkyrie yell as the [i]Harlocks[/i] feet pounded across the surface of the courts. She swung the axe with all the mechanical might her machine could muster and it sung through the air with a howl of air, smashing deep into the 'ribs' of the hostile machine. She charged with the momentum, shoulders crashing into its' chest and feet screeching across the asphalt as they got purchase, shoving the enemy through the posts and wire of the hoops and fences and slamming it against the wall of one of the buildings, brick and debris raining down. Her GEAR collapsed to its' knees as the enemy hammered at its' back and shoulders with its' fists, before she reoriented. Red warning lights were flashing across the cockpit; more so as a searing lance of blue energy flashed from somewhere over her head, close enough for her to feel the heat. The entire panel lit up with 'CAUTION: UHD DAMAGE, POWER CRITICAL'. Enough remained to lock the machines' arm in place around the enemies' waist and orient the torso of her machine vertical. Reluctantly, she flipped a finger at the white-painted and battered enemy, before pulling her ejection handles. 
The enemy thrashed, immobilized as she shot skyward on a pillar of flame. Lasers began to cut through the arm holding the machine in place as it struggled to break free.