After a few minutes of sustained fire, fired blindly into the smoke, the machine's magnetic shield flickered and died. One lucky marine hit it with a plasma shot. The bright green of a plasma projector arcing between it and the machine; sublimating and melting the alloys into molten slag. A few more marines fired a few more shots just for good measure, and then, the thing sputtered, fell, and died.
Once the combat was over, Captain Shaw immediately sprung to his feet, and began shouting orders into the microphone wrapped around his throat, even though he didn't need to. the thing could pick him up, even if he barely whispered.
"I want rescue crew out there picking up our marines, NOW! All men, grab rifles, prep for boarding! I want marines in the reactor, life support, and the bridge! All other stations are a secondary concern! MOVE IT!"