If Shepard dies, don't bring your dumb ass back home.
Those were the words of the Clan Chief echoing in Urdnot Ghur's mind. The problem was that Shepard seemed determined to run down a bullet—or a Reaper laser. Ghur hated escort missions with a burning resentment, because too often the person being escorted did stupid things. This mission was no exception, although he was inclined to praise her courage and audacity… if he hadn't had Wrex's warning echoing in his head.
Even the thought of being the best man for the job didn't comfort Ghur much. There was just too much that could go wrong on a mission like this, and humans were delicate. At least she'd doubled up on shield modules—all of Hammer One had—and the ship's doctor slapped an extra module on everyone she could reach when the Normandy came to pull Hammer One's quad out of the fire.
But did Shepard stick to the plan? Of course not. Krogan that she was—recognized as, anyway—she was still fit and able, so she got back on the run-up, determined to continue waving herself around to bait that Reaper at the end of it. It was a krogan thing to do, but not necessarily a smart one.
That was why Wrex picked Ghur: there were old krogan and bold krogan, but very, very few old, bold krogan. Ghur was one of them.
So, for a human, the clan-chief's sister had a real quad; she'd proved it several times already and there probably wasn't a sapient left in the galaxy who would argue the fact. If there was…well, every species kicked out at least one person too dumb to breathe and think at the same time.
So Ghur went with her, and the turian in the blue armor, and a couple others. His job was to make sure she didn't end up spattered all over the run-up.
She moved well, had a zippiness no krogan could hope to match.
The turian who seemed to be trying to stay close to her, but not too close, was having a bit of trouble with that. If Ghur had to guess…that wasn't the same turian that had been in the blue armor earlier. Who knew how turians thought, really? Sometimes he wondered how they were so decent at war.
A blast from the Reaper's main cannon—he hoped it only had the one—passed too close, only a quick zig-zag keeping it from snagging Shepard or the turian…though it got one of the others. There wasn't even a scream, just the sudden reek of burning armor, meat, and what was probably hair.
It did force a widened gap between Shepard and the turian.
Ghur picked up his lumbering pace. Sprinting wasn't really a krogan thing; they were distance runners, when they had to run at all, which wasn't often.
Ghur saw it as if time had slowed down. The beam was on an intercept course.
Shepard saw it, but wasn't moving fast enough.
If Shepard dies, don't bring your dumb ass back home.
Ghur gave a bellow and charged. He slammed into Shepard full force, eliciting a shriek of pain. He screamed too as the burning laser cut past his shields, but kept moving, locking his arms around Shepard and rolling, forcing the both of them to the side. A rolling krogan moving at velocity didn't stop for much, though he was terribly aware that a krogan landing on a human broke bones.
There wasn't much help for it, though. It was either this tumbling escape with him, or being barbecued Shepard. And Ghur was determined to see what all these changes meant for Tuchanka, with a thinker in charge, and a human adopted into the society, and the genophage cured. He wanted to see what came of all these things badly.
Ghur stopped rolling because he hit something.
"Get your big ass off!" a flanged voice commanded. Clawed hands began to pry him off Shepard.
Ghur realized he couldn't feel his feet. He should have felt major pain, but he didn't. Slowly, half suspecting what he would see, he looked back.
Below the knee, beneath the shuddering envelope of one shield that wasn't totally drained, were cauterized stumps, capped in melted armor, where his legs should have been. Well, he thought vaguely, at least the laser cauterized, otherwise he might just bleed out in this shithole. That would suck.
The problem now was he was no longer in any condition to help, because he couldn't travel.
The turian had already begun triage on Shepard. She looked a little singed, but his charge had knocked her out of the laser's reach before it could get through all her shields.
Ghur shivered, realizing that he'd just taken a direct hit from a Reaper—tracking the patterns of the injuries and the actions, he thought it had just caught his legs when he hit the ground, before he started to roll—and survived. It wasn't a long-duration direct hit either; that would have killed even him.
"Korbal," Ghur grunted, siting up and edging himself closer to where Shepard lay, leaning against the rubble that currently served as a barrier between them and the Reaper.
"What?" the turian asked tersely, moving from Shepard to Ghur.
"Nothing," Ghur grunted, trying not to regard (or smell, now he came to think of it) the ruined stumps of his legs, wondering why he didn't feel more pain down there. Just to be safe, in case it was simply that he could he produced a hypospray of painkillers
The turian gave him another. "You can't walk," he pointed out.
Ghur opened one eye. "So take her and go. Get her stupid ass out of here. I can shoot anything that comes for me." It was here that Ghur realized he was down to grenades and his pistol. "…and I'll keep the last bullet for myself. Or the last two," he added, as if in all fairness.