With the sound of screeching metal and a shower of sparks, Achilles pulled a sheet of metal away from the person, who was still barely breathing. They were unconscious, and had been cut fairly badly, but they were alive. Of course, Achilles didn't know the firs thing about first aid - all he knew was how to kill. But the comms confirmed that there were more people alive. undoubtedly, somewhere, there would be someone who knew something of first aid. he would carry this person to safety, and get them healed. Some part of him knew, of course, that this person wouldn't live much longer - most of their lower body had been lacerated by shrapnel - but with the current level of technology even such serious wounds could be healed.

Almost gingerly, the death machine took a hold of the fragile creature before him, lifting it over his shoulder. Blood trickled down his back, but he didn't mind. He used his single remaining arm to keep the being in place, as he spoke over the intercoms. "I have a wounded person here. I'm moving towards the front exit, what is the location of the medic?" If the medic was even alive, of course. He would need to find and take the shortest possible route.

As Achilles walked through the mist and rubble, he already knew that there were hostiles ahead. He didn't care much. He had lived through a thousand battles, a group of fools with weapons wasn't going to stop him. And as he emerged into the forested outside, and looked around to find beams of laser firing around him, his opinion didn't change.

The robot stood at almost twice the height of a human, 3.2 meters tall. Covered in black, chitinous plating with a glass-like substance covering it's 'eyes', the two red orbs in it's face that it used for most of it's light-based detection. As a stray beam of laser hit it's side, it didn't even flinch, as it left only a slight burn mark. Instead, he looked towards the nearest 'hostile', the medic, who had turned and was now gaping at Achilles' chest. "Out of my way."