Games

The Mako wasn't designed for comfort exactly, but for functionality. They were ineffably lucky that the cabin was made tall enough to accommodate krogan, and Shepard knows she should be grateful the seats move at all, but still she shifts and sighs, first slouching down, now hunching over the console, helmet somewhere by her feet, cheek resting on the dash. She's grateful, too, for the maneuverability light armor affords her: poor Ash had almost needed the jaws of life her first week in heavy armor.

They have air, they have light, they have a relatively stable temperature—all they need now is cooperation.

"What? But that doesn't make any sense!"

"Yes it does. I win."

"That's stupid!"

"Best fifteen out of twenty-nine?"

"No, this is stupid. I'm not playing!"

Eyes closed, she can only imagine Garrus crossing his arms and turning away with a huff. Kaidan's quiet laughter follows.

"It's just a game, Garrus. It's not meant to make sense."

"Well, it doesn't!" Garrus snaps. "Rock is clearly the superior choice!"

"Not against paper."

"Rock goes through paper!"

"That's not how the game works."

"Well, that's stupid! The game is stupid, and you're stupid for playing it!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Shepard says, twisting around to address her squad. "Can we not start a civil war over this?"

"This game is stupid," Garrus tells her. "Humans are terrible at entertainment."

"You're just mad because you keep losing," Kaidan says, grinning.

"That's because it's your game, and you cheat."

"I'm not cheating."

"Yes, you are!"

"There is no possible way for me to cheat! You just keep picking rock every time!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Shepard sighs, dropping her head back into her arms. "Where is Joker?"

"Beacon's showing no activity," Kaidan says. "It's only been a few hours."

"You did tell him to check out the system."

"I thought we would take longer than we did," Shepard says pointedly. "Go back to your game."

"Your game," Garrus scoffs and returns to his silent snit, arms recrossed.

"If I'd known you were such a sore loser, I wouldn't've taught you."

"I am not a sore loser! Your game is rigged, and stupid, and sucks."

Shepard flicks open a channel.

"Normandy? Geth? Passing mercenaries? Anybody? Please?"

"Mercenaries?" Kaidan laughs. "Don't you think that's a little dramatic, Commander?"

"We could pay them to haul us out. Or fix that fucking axle."

"Because it's the axle's fault."

"Don't you start with me," Shepard says, with a warning finger wag in Garrus's direction. "I've taken this thing over tougher ditches and hills without a problem."

"Yeah. Four hours for six meters of altitude."

"You didn't have to come along, you know."

"What would you two do without me?" Garrus asks. "I'm the third wheel."

"That's not a good thing," Kaidan says.

"But three wheels are more stable than two."

"It means that you're extra. Unnecessary."

"Well, that's stupid, too! You humans—your games, your language. It's a wonder you ever made it across an ocean."

"I'm going to murder everything," Shepard sighs into the bend of her elbow, face pressed once more into her arms.

Joker finally circles around almost an hour later. It's twenty-five to nothing, Kaidan's favor, and they disembark in furious silence. The Mako's out of commission for a few days, but when it's finished, Shepard climbs inside and carves a message into the dash: No Games.