Silverwind met up with Mike with no issues, even after the [i]Prowler[/i] had opened fire and made a mess of the sun-faded decor of the machine-shop. Nothing had emerged during Silverwinds' earth-shaking run up the main road either, even after he'd deliberately clipped a building with one elbow of the GEAR as it moved. In short; the town was abandoned and lifeless. This left the fox with the problem of reinforcing the others, who even now were filling the commo net with battle-chatter from their respective positions. 
The mine had turned out to be a warren of hostiles, and Aiden and Adrian were apparently engaged in ferocious combat. Myrina and Arcade were holding their position against a force of unknown size in the bowl-shaped valley, and there were definite hostiles in the Landcrawlers, engaged by Esailia's team. Even Ken had opened fire, after being fired upon. 

Drawing up decisions, he designated icons on the holographic C3I display floating above his controls and spoke rapidly to the other two GEAR pilots with him. 
"Nawlin, Kuraiko - move to reinforce Sykes and Kelsea at the mine. Your GEARs are both better suited for close-in combat than mine, and should be a good pairing with both of theirs as well. Not to mention you can both cover the longer distance more quickly than the [i]Harlock[/i]. I'm moving to reinforce Michelete and Ruthless, my GEAR is better at those kinds of ranges, and the area is closer, so I can cover the distance more effectively. Move!"

Blade spun his GEAR around on it's foot-wheels and zipped in the direction of the valley. Smoke was rolling from the low, dusty hills surrounding the area, and the machines' external microphones picked up the thump and chatter of weapons-fire from here. Swerving around to follow the road into the valley, he toggled another frequency as he heard more incoming messages.
[QUOTE]This is team three, tangos blew the warehouse into confetti and opened fire on us. We're covered by a dust storm, we may need air support or a pair of eyes from above, sir!"[/QUOTE]
The foxes' ears flattened under his helmet at the tone in Aidens' voice. The Corpsman was obviously coping well, but not being able to immediately assist his man was anaethema to the vulpine. 
"Hold fast, Sykes. [i]Prowler[/i] and [i]Blitzkrieg[/i] are on the way to back you both up. They might not be airborne, but the firepower oughta help. Break. Maxwell, keep on those hostiles and take' em down, then stand by for further orders. Break. Sprinsteam, Sitrep? Over".
The words were terse and fast, but that was combat; it didn't leave time for flowerly language and debate. You had to act quickly, or else everything fell apart in a shocking short time. 
Skidding into the mouth of the valley, the [I]Harlock's[/i] LIDAR and other sensors painted a picture on the display, icons and tags appended to each trace. Michelete's GEAR was in good cover, and trading fire with a trio of hostile GEARs and a quartet of light armed vehicles that were driving evasive patterns around the valley floor, weaving between the irrigation equipment. Ruthless had taken cover already, and was doggedly doing his bit to engage as well. 
The three GEARs were markedly Bandit machines - they carried faded and patched-up civilian paint jobs, and had exposed internal systems, where they'd been 'jacked', shadily modified and tinkered with for near-military performance in their onboard LOS and Electromuscular systems, and had military-grade sensors scabbed onto the outside. The standard-sized hardpoints were equipped with a oddball assortment of both weapons, and civilian equipment that could do nasty damage in the right situation. In short, they were a threat, especially in an ambush like this, but they'd go down easy. One was already slumped and smoking. 
Blade bounded into cover nearby to Myrina and shot her a laser link.
"Howdy. Thought I'd come to join your party. Mine was lookin' kinda dead," he quipped. "Looks like your guests got a little rowdy though. Maybe I oughta help y'all put 'em down. I reckon maybe we split and try and flank 'em - I'll volley a coupla high-ex rounds to keep 'em lookin' and confused, an' then you get some hits on 'em while I relocate and shoot again. Good ol' one-two hit?"

Meanwhile, at Ken's position, the missile fired at the helicopter had soared off on its' self-destructive journey into the wild blue yonder. The return fire from the helo's chaingun had shredded the ATV into a expansive field of machine parts and gore across the scrubby floor, and had resulted in a startled panic from the other bandits. Out of the five vehicles, the remaining four split fifty-fifty. Two stopped, and the other two drove more crazily evasive manoeuvres, and opened fire with their personal weapons, a storm of small-arms fired aimed up at the menacing-looking rotorcraft that had utterly shredded their comrade - and, probably, their only effective weapon.

At the mine, the smoke began to settle, and the looming forms of GEARs were made out plainly. There were six in all, and all looked mean and menacing. They did appear to be, once again, civilian models. But these were much higher-end machines than those in the valley. Less 'scrappy' and botched-together, these were some of the latest models out of one of the many GEAR-works of the Independent States, and looked professionally modified. 
Gleaming black-and-tan and with red-eyed mono-sensors glowing, they bristled with sophisticated missile-racks on one shoulder, a rapid-fire chaingun-pod on the other and with an autocannon rifle and underslung flamethrower or shotgun on each one of their rifles. The exceptions were one carrying a sniper-type rifle, and another carrying a heavy gatling cannon. A third carried a shorter, stubby sub-machinegun type hand-held gun. Most also had a wicked-looking GEAR-scale machete sheathed at the rear of their waists, though the SMG-wielder carried two shorter knives, and an array of thrown AP/shaped charge daggers instead, and bristled with movement-enhancing equipment. 
The sextuple paused in a brief moment, before splitting to all points to take cover. The faster-moving one with knives and daggers closed range at a frightning speed, while the others moved out in practised ease, covering the moving machines, before opening fire. 

At the Landcrawler, the room fell silent after the torrent of firepower unleashed into it, aside from a few feeble moans of pain and gurgles of someone choking on their own blood. No-one else opted to exchange fire with the assault team, leaving the heavy smell of cordite, blood and death in the air, along with ear-ringing silence. 
Then there was a slight sound - the tapping on someone knocking on metal from a few doors down the narrow hall of the vehicle.