Disarm the assailant and attempt to capture them alive. If capture is not possible, killing the target is an acceptable backup. Make sure the forces all attack at once and uses variable elevations to avoid any counterattacks that could take out a signifigant portion of our forces. More reinforcements are to be sent in.
[2] The moment your men step close to him, he raises the gun, and, before they or anyone else can even hear the click, the bullet rips through the chassis of one of your synth security bots.
[2] Then your bots unload their clips...into the wall behind the man, who simply crouches, continuing to fire upon the forces, ripping them to shreds with ease, the loud bangs from the huge revolvers filling the air.
[9] Finally, one of the Synth scores a headshot...which goes right through the man's head, hitting the wall right behind him.
He grins, then, speaking simply and softly, "Thanks for the fun, gotta run!"
[10 vs. 10] Then, a few hundred yards away, a shuttle takes off, a man in a red greatcoat just about to slip inside, the revolver shining as a shell rips through the head of the last security bot. But, you, yourself, manage to hook a tracker into it's software, allowing you to follow the vehicle as it flies past your radar.
[10] You track the shuttle to a run-down space station, orbiting a dead planet in the last orbit of your system.
Keep an ear open for that rebel mech. Meanwhile, let's check out that planet. Full speed ahead, risks be damned!
[5] You make sure to keep a shell open for the mech, and your rewarded by an image of an immaculate, black mecha docking at some space station turned Spacer-Bar. [9] You hop into D:13 space, feeling a rising sense of nausea as the ship flies through the pitch black void without silly things like gravity or mass or weight causing problems.
[7] When you arrive in orbit around the greyish, yellow planet, you notice a number of ship hulls and parts forming a ring around the planet, hovering as silent tombs.
[4] After being ignored by the planet as you hail them, a single ship, looking for all the world dead and burnt out, as large as your own capital ship, if not larger, with... protrusions that seem to wiggle and squirm through the thick metal of it's hull, sets a course for your own.