Antilles looked from the krogan to the human, and nearly put three rounds into the little dog mech that came scrambling up. 'Nearly' because someone had hastily painted Systems Alliance markings on the thing's shoulders and hips, as if to ensure no one thought it was a stray or an enemy. The mech paused, scanned Shepard's prostrate form, then took off at a lope into the city.
Antilles had no idea what that was about, but it looked like someone's contingency plan. He abandoned his plan to try to extract Shepard immediately, although he expected the Reaper to pulverize their position at any moment.
One of those brain-rattling screams issued from the Reaper…and to Antilles' amazement, the thing redirected its fire in the direction the mech had run off. Apparently, the Reaper couldn't actually see the three of them, which meant the mech must be wearing a locator—as most military personnel, regardless of species did—that marked it as being Shepard.
A clever little ruse, he thought blandly.
The krogan shared his watchful waiting, silent, brooding until…
…with another scream, the Reaper rose into the air. Antilles flung himself across Shepard the instant the air began to rattle, praying to any spirit that would hear him that the Reaper would look down and see a cluster of corpses.
The Reaper didn't give any indication it saw him or the krogan, or Shepard hidden beneath him.
"I cannot believe how lucky we just got," the krogan announced blankly.
"Neither can I," Antilles said, hastily stripping Shepard of her armor's arm and leg plates. Military training covered moving injured comrades. Stabilize first, if possible. Then remove all nonessential armor plates. With a turian, he might even venture to remove some of the armor around the chest and the hips, but humans were a softer species. If she was badly hurt—he couldn't imagine she wasn't, though he didn't criticize the krogan's rough-handling—better she had the reinforcement provided by the plates, as well as the mesh beneath.
With the Reaper gone, he could now slip off with one injured comrade.
"Will you be alright on your own?" the question was more habit than anything else.
"Fine," the krogan grunted, shifting as if to make himself comfortable.
Antilles considered, then recognized the necessity: he couldn't do anything more for the krogan. He could still do something for Shepard though, and she was his primary concern. "Listen, if I know humans, they'll send a team to try to evacuate the wounded now that the Reaper's moved on. You just have to hang on until then."
"Sounds good."
Antilles wasted no more time. He slung Shepard into a medic's carry across his shoulders and began picking his way into the city. It amazed him how heavy she was. He knew that humans had denser bones than most species, but he really noticed the extra density now, when he had to carry her.
As he made his quiet way away from the run-up, expecting at every step to see some Reaper monstrosity appear from behind something, he wondered what to do. Ideally, it would be best to get her back into those underground tunnels, but he had no idea where to start looking. Backtracking the way Hammer One had come was ridiculous, too ridiculous to even consider briefly. They'd lost too many people. The best thing to do was find a safe place—or a place that could be made safe—and hold it, wait there until one of the Stiletto teams got the job done.
Antilles walked until her heard a change in Shepard's labored breathing. Moving into the nearest building, he laid her out on the floor. C-Sec trained its personnel to deal with first aid for the major species in the galaxy. In this, humans and asari weren't that different: their general assembly of parts was fairly similar when it came to cardio-pulmonary issues. He tipped her chin back, made sure her airway was clear. He didn't think he was hearing the result of a rib-punctured lung. He looked around the building. He didn't like being on the ground floor, but wasn't sure he wanted to try to move her too much further.
Her face was blanched, deathly pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes, he realized, were moving behind the delicate eyelids, like she was dreaming. He hoped it was a decent one, especially compared to where they actually were. This whole place looked like some kind of nightmare.
When her breathing stabilized, he moved her to the second story, found a corner room, and ensconced them in it. It used to be someone's bedroom, so a pillow for her head and a blanket to insulate her body weren't difficult. He cued his omnitool and took a scan; her temperature was low for a human.
He propped her feet up out of habit; he didn't need her going into shock. It was obvious the Reaper's laser hadn't gotten through her multiple shields before the krogan knocked her out of the way.
He should have asked the krogan's name, he thought. It had been a valorous act, no matter who did it. And he was concerned about the fact that the krogan was so badly injured, but showed no signs of it. He didn't know much about first aid for krogan, but surely he ought to have been in a lot of pain after having his legs blown off.
Antilles shivered, wondering who had said what to that krogan to prompt such a desperate rescue. He had no doubt that without the krogan's charge and roll maneuver, Shepard wouldn't be alive right now.
Her pulse was faint, and he wondered about humans and the kinds of injuries she'd just sustained. Hopefully, she wasn't bleeding inside; that would be a real problem, and wasn't something he was sure he could cope with.
They'd just have to wait. It was all they could do. Antilles sighed, propping his rifle on his knees.