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The Competition	By : logsig123 Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 4311 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mass Effect series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Garrus is annoyed that I beat him. One point. But less than fifteen points separate the four of us, and they're all excellent scores. The guys in gray seem impressed, but it doesn't really surprise me. I know the quality of my team: the best in the galaxy. If Thane and Legion happen to be lagging a little further behind, it's only because Thane favors more personal methods of killing, and Legion is just... young. If that term can be used for geth. Plus, Garrus is on fire today. He must really want to win. Well, I want him to win too. But I don't plan on making it easy.
We've been walking for some time now. Master Sergeant Harris has led us to the top of a cliff. I look over the edge. From here, the ground drops about two hundred meters, almost straight down. There's a prepared position, set up for shooting prone, not far from the foot. It faces into a ravine several hundred meters away. The Master Sergeant's men are nowhere to be seen.
"This is the third section," the Master Sergeant announces. He starts to speaks rapidly, without pause. "You will all run this section simultaneously. Each of you will have a number assigned to you. You may fire only upon those targets marked with this number. Address your first target from the shooting position you see at the bottom of this cliff. Proceed along the ravine. You will encounter considerable resistance, but no energy or projectile weapons may be fired until you reach the next shooting position. Anyone who fires such a weapon will be disqualified. If you survive, your second shooting position is a tower. Climb the tower and address the two targets. Then descend from the tower. From this point onward, you must avoid being seen by any of my men until you have addressed your fourth target from the third shooting position. Anyone who is seen will be shot, and additionally, disqualified. At the fourth shooting position, fire one round only at your fifth target. The nature of this final target is different from the others and is worth twenty points. Whereas the first four targets are worth three, five, seven and nine points. You will be timed. Every five seconds exceeding a total of forty-three minutes will incur a one point penalty. Disarming or otherwise interfering with another competitor will incur a ten point penalty. Firing upon another competitor or another's target will incur a fifteen point penalty. Your assigned numbers are: Krios, one; Legion, two; Vakarian, three; Shepard, four. Time starts when I say Go and ends when you fire upon your final target. Any quest--Go!"
I can't help laughing even as I launch myself over the cliff edge. I hear the Garrus and Thane chuckling too; at the absurdity of the Master Sergeant's attempts to confuse, combined with the glorious sense of the approaching unknown, the anticipation of it producing a sweet, welcome burst of adrenaline. The cliff is steep, but there are occasional handholds. Where there are none, simply letting go and falling until the next one presents itself is a viable alternative. At the bottom, I sprint for the shooting position and slide into it. Scope the ravine, scanning for the target. The silhouettes are arrayed at about 500 meters' range, on the left face. There's some sort of scrubby vegetation growing there too. At the moment it's leaning sharply towards us. Strong winds. Makes sense--the place is a natural wind tunnel. I hear someone else on my right; I take the shot. It's good. I holster and run forward.
The temperature inside the ravine is at least twenty degrees lower than outside. The wind blows just as hard as I expected, making hearing unreliable. It's darker here, too. Good place for an ambush. Out of the corner of my eye I see Garrus moving ahead of me. He's in a predatory crouch, head turning constantly from side to side, as if sniffing the air. Suddenly he dives to his right and rolls. An instant later a gout of flame incinerates the spot where he was standing. It's so hot I can feel it through my armor. Shit. I see them now, a pack of them emerging from a hidden cave at the base of the left wall, their insectoid bodies skittering slowly closer. A biotic attack hurtles over my right shoulder and the leading creature is thrown into the air. Thane, of course. I watch the creature pick itself up. It appears shaken, but not much harmed; these things are tougher than wild klixen. And their internal flamethrowers seem to be an improved model.
I look for anything that might help--favorable ground, or some sort of cover. There's a spur of rock to the right, about twenty meters up, forming a natural ledge that extends some distance ahead. I make the decision. I point and shout, "Up there!" Then I duck under another crackling biotic attack and sprint for it. It takes only a few moments to climb the wall and swing onto the ledge. I crouch and look back for the others.
Legion is right behind me. "Shepard-Commander, we have not deployed a combat drone. We believe this would violate the spirit of the rule against the use of energy weapons."
I nod. "Good call." I wave the geth onward.
Below, Garrus is shouting at Thane, who's still dodging incoming spears of flame. "Come on!" He gestures up.
Thane signals his understanding and backs towards the cliff, launching a final biotic attack as he goes. I wait till they're both climbing before I turn and jog forward.
The ledge peters out a good distance behind the klixen lair. I glance back at the pack; they're not attempting to follow. Tank-bred klixen. Well-trained, too. Just when you think you've seen everything. The tower is just ahead. It's only about forty meters high, but it looks poorly constructed. Hardly sturdy enough to stand up to the winds. The top is swaying back and forth, a heart-stopping twenty degrees from vertical. As I approach, I can see a number of ropes dangling down from the platform. A geth-shaped figure is already climbing one of them.
The swaying is even more alarming at the top, experienced firsthand, accompanied by ominous creaking noises. I brace my feet as well as I can and scope for the targets. From one side of the tower, a building facade can be seen in the far distance. Four numbered silhouettes peer out of the windows. On the other side, there's a similar building, but here the targets are moving, shifting from window to window with an irregular motion. I swear at the Master Sergeant's ingenuity.
"Spirits, who built this thing?" I hear Garrus complaining as he hauls himself up onto the platform. "It’s a fucking deathtrap."
"I believe that is the point," Thane remarks conversationally from just below. "I thank Arashu I have no fear of heights."
Legion fires at his moving target. It clips the edge, but the silhouette remains standing. The geth makes an electronic noise, descending in pitch, that quite effectively conveys annoyance. I grin and take my own shot at the static target. I turn towards the other building and watch, timing the movement of the targets and feeling the movement of the tower, mentally blocking out the sound of other rifles firing. When it feels about right, I take it. Good enough; the silhouette falls. I holster and dive off the platform, grabbing at one of the ropes as I go.
The tower shudders violently as the rope takes my weight. Above, Garrus swears at me and holsters his weapon with one hand, reaching for his own rope with the other. "Why the hell do you make me do this suicidal shit?" he demands as he rappels down after me. I laugh.
Below, the ravine takes a turn to the right and then abruptly flattens out into open ground. I take cover behind a straggly bush and survey the area, looking for the Master Sergeant's men. Almost simultaneously I hear Garrus hissing behind me, and the whine of an aerial vehicle circling above us. We both duck under an overhang. Alright. That accounts for one of the men in gray. Where are the other two?
I signal Garrus to wait, and activate my tactical cloak. I creep a little way forward into the open. There's some sort of tall, wiry grass growing here, in clumps. There are even a few stunted trees scattered over the plain. Ah. There's another of the men, perched in a tree. Directly ahead, a pile of crates marks the fourth shooting position, our destination. I scope it and catch a glimpse of movement behind the crates. And there's the third man. I duck back into the cover of the overhang as my cloak wears off. Garrus is tracking the aircar through his scope. Legion and Thane are behind him.
"One in the air," I say, pointing up. "One in the tree on the left. The last behind the crates at the shooting position. The obvious approach is to use the grass, but I don't like it. There's no other cover to speak of, and the chances of at least one of us being seen are pretty high."
"Your cloak will hide you," Thane observes.
I roll my eyes. "Fine, the chances of one of you being seen are pretty high."
Nobody suggests that we each take our fate into our hands. This new threat--admittedly not a particularly life-threatening one- -has us closing ranks again. With the klixen, it was the danger of a comrade being roasted in his armor like a chestnut. Here, it's the potential humiliation of one of us being bested by one of them. No. Not going to happen.
"What's the rule again? We're not supposed to be seen by any of Harris' men?" Garrus says.
"Until we have addressed the fourth target," Legion confirms.
"Well then, I have an idea. Screw stealth. Let's just blow them all to hell before they see any of us."
"You sick, bloodthirsty bastard, " I grin. "Master Sergeant Harris might be annoyed if we kill his men. But the principle is sound. We'll... create a distraction. Garrus, you take the one in the air, since you're already so well acquainted. Thane and Legion, the one in the tree. I'll take the one behind the crates. Remember--don't get too enthusiastic. "
They nod tensely. I activate my cloak again and sprint forward. Behind me I hear a crackle as Garrus hits the aircar with an overload. I glance up. It's losing altitude rapidly. Odds are it won't actually crash, but the occupant will need to work to ensure a soft landing. I turn my attention to the tree, just in time to see the man in it hurled to the ground. Then a combat drone materializes and takes up station over him, firing weakly, pinning him down. I reach the pile of crates and duck behind them. The third man is moving around to investigate the noise. I wait till he's almost past me and then hit him hard on the back of the head with the butt of my pistol. He slumps to the ground and I slide into the firing position just as my cloak expires. Garrus joins me, laughing uncontrollably, yet still somehow managing to unholster and make ready. A half second later Thane and Legion take their positions.
The fourth target is in another of those fake buildings. This time, it's partially obscured by a red target, a friendly. "Hostage situation," Garrus says approvingly. "Brings back old memories."
We fire almost in unison. All four black targets disappear. We grin at each other.
"Fuck!" A voice comes from behind us. The combat drone has winked out of existence and the man it had pinned--Yang-- has finally been able to get back up. He stares at us in disgust. Legion gives him a wave.
The final shooting position is close by. There is a sort of shack about 1000 meters ahead, painted an unpleasant bile-green color, but no obvious target. I adjust my scope to maximum magnification. There it is, three-quarters of the way up the wall. Our numbers, each above a little silver circle, a little more than two centimeters in diameter.
"What the fuck?" Garrus says in disbelief. "That's the target? That spot? What's that supposed to represent--is there some new race of tiny-headed aliens I've never heard of? "
"Yeah, that's the target," I say. "One shot apiece. " I consider the vegetation near the shack, gauging the wind. Out here in the open, it's short-lived, mild breezes, not the driving gusts of the ravine. "I want to watch this. Who wants to go first?"
Thane mutters something inaudible. I catch the word watching but nothing else.
"You volunteering, Thane?" I say.
He clears his throat. "I fear I do not have the skill for this. But I will try." His shot is too high by a hand's width. He shakes his head. "As I feared."
Legion's shot also goes wide. The flaps around its head flex unhappily.
"Your turn, Garrus," I say softly. "You've got to make it, or I'll win."
He looks doubtful for a moment. Then a predatory expression crosses his face and he grins. "That's all the motivation I need."
He readies his rifle. Focuses on the target. Waits for the breeze to die down. The others are silent, but I can see their total concentration, both of them willing his shot to hit the mark. I watch Garrus breathe. Watch his eye, intent in the scope. Watch him reach for the calm within. A moment of utter stillness. His trigger finger moves, the rifle booms, and the shot punches a hole neatly through the center of the silver circle.
His voice, exultant: "Yes!" I slap him on the back as Thane and Legion add their congratulations.
Garrus looks at me. "Your turn, John," he says. "You've got to make it, or I'll win."
I smile and put my eye to the scope. I calm myself, gather the threads of my consciousness. The breeze has started up again. It doesn't bother me. I wait. The seconds tick by in my mind. The breeze dies down. Not yet. Wait... wait... wait... Now. I pull the trigger. I know it's good even before the round reaches the target.
"Shepard!" Master Sergeant Harris's voice is a sudden shock in our earpieces. "That last shot was ten seconds over the time limit. Getting tardy in your old age, are you?"
Thane inhales sharply. And then quietly begins to laugh.
Legion tilts its head. "Due to Shepard-Commander's time penalty, Garrus Vakarian wins the competition by one point."
Garrus stares at me, stunned.
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The Competition