You wake up to the sound of your AC's missile lock warning blaring in your ear, just in time for you to activate your QB thruster and dodge the flock of incoming BML_G1s. As the missiles impact on your left, you scan the horizon for their sender. There. The autonomous PCA craft, bent on destruction, already has another lock on your AC. You assault boost around the incoming missiles and switch to your BU-TT/A. You close the gap and tear through the pulse shield with your blade. Now is your chance. You unload both Zimmermans into the back of the defenseless AC. It staggers and you back up to reload. Again.
The second round of fire lands just before the ACS can regain control and its shields come back up. The AC boosts away and you can't keep up. More missiles. You can't dodge them all. A stray strikes your AC. Back to the blade. Again. Now the Zimmermans. Again. You wonder if you can keep this up. "Right hand ammunition at 50%," the COM warns. Another missile. "AP at 30%." Just a little longer, you think. "Right and left hand ammunition at 10%."
Your last two shells break the AC's shield a one final time. This is it. As your depleted Zimmermans drop to the ground, the rain around your AC slows to a crawl. The once sharp firing of your QB thruster now stretched into an eternal, forceful shove. You hear Walter's voice as the thruster pushes you out from under the last volley of missiles, "Do it now, 621." Needing only a thought, your AC's assault boost activates. Hurling towards the enemy at speeds no ordinary human could survive, you slash clean through the body of your mechanized opponent. The scattered husk falls beneath you, its fire and smoke mingling with the mist of rain. As your AC returns to a neutral stance, you look to the coral-scorched sky. Whatever you were in a past life... this is what you are now. Mission complete.