Silas hit the wall with a grunt, his breath heavier than he wanted. Ahead, the Klingon was already halfway up the ropes, snarling with effort. Silas grabbed hold and began to climb, slow and deliberate. Halfway up, his boot slipped on a muddy smear and slammed him into the boards.

“Still got it,” he muttered, looping the rope around his leg for leverage. His shoulder burned, but he kept hauling until he cleared the top. The Klingon was already sprinting toward the mud pit.

Silas lowered himself into the sludge and started crawling. A spark from the wire snapped against his back, making him hiss, but he didn’t stop. Ahead, Korrak was moving fast, but speed wasn’t the point. Finishing was.

At the balance beam, Silas paused. His knees throbbed. The plank shifted under him. He spread his arms and took it one step at a time. On the far side, the Klingon gave a mocking salute. Silas kept his eyes forward.

The cargo net was worse. His grip faltered, and for a moment he almost came off. Academy training surfaced in his head: use your legs, not just your arms. He climbed on, steady if not quick. At the top, he caught the zipline, rode it down, and landed hard.

The swinging arms ahead swung wide and fast. Silas watched their pattern carefully, then slipped through a narrow gap. One caught him in the ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He staggered but stayed on his feet.

The log came next. He tried to vault it, failed, and rolled over with a groan. The ladder loomed ahead. The Klingon was already climbing. Silas followed, each rung a small fight. When he reached the top, he stood there, aching but satisfied.

Ford was pumping himself up while he watched Reade go through the course in her own magnificent way. Of course, he was biased, but that was his business. Once she and her opponent reached the end, it was not long until Ford and his counterpart were up next.

As Ford stepped up to the start, he looked over at his Klingon opponent. Then Ford faced the man and gave him a Klingon salute. “Qapla!” But the man did not turn his head, he simply gave Ford a side eye glare and growled at him while bearing his sharp teeth. ‘Great, I get the real mean one.’ Ford thought, but shrugged it off because the second the horn sounded, was the second they both took off running.

Ford had hoped that he would get off to a great start with the rope obstacle, as he grabbed onto it and propelled himself upward without even planting his feet onto the wall. He just let his feet hang while he let his arms do all the work, and he was able to pull himself upward with a great pace. But when Ford looked over at his opponent, the Klingon was doing the exact same thing, but faster.

The mud pit was probably the hardest one for Ford. While he trudged through it, he got shocked six times by the net, and he started to curse under his breath a little heavier after the third. Though he did hear his Klingon friend swearing in Klingon after he got zapped once. And the Klingon had gotten zapped at least three times.

The balancing beam was not their best friend at all in this obstacle. As bad as they did with the mud pit, they both fell off the beams and pulled themselves out of the muddy water before they made their way to the cargo net. This one, Ford had an advantage. While he watched his Klingon opponent climb the net like normal, Ford ignored the horizontal ropes of the net and only grabbed the vertical ropes, which he once again used only his arms to pull himself up to the top. Ford was halfway through when his opponent saw what Ford was doing and began to copy him, but Ford was still at least two feet ahead of the Klingon, and Ford had made it to the top.

Zipline was pretty much nothing for them, but the pendulum obstacle was much like the mud pit and the balancing beam. They both were knocked off the instant they got to the spinning pendulums. When it came to the waist-high log, Ford timed his jump and roll so that he would roll his back over it and land onto his feet on the other side. Now for the ladder climb, as much as Ford wanted to climb it the same way he did with the rope and cargo net, he could feel the muscle strain in his arms, and so he climbed up the ladder like any normal person and worked his way to the top, neck and neck with his opponent at this point. Ford can only hope that he could add a spring to his steps, to push him up faster, to try and beat his opponent to the flag.

Ay’dar roared at the sound of the horn and charged forward, Klingon blood driving him on. Mak’lor met him at the wall, and they hit it together. Ay’dar seized the rope and powered upward, every pull fueled by raw strength. He grunted twice as he hauled himself higher. Mak’lor climbed close behind.

At the top, Ay’dar swung over and dropped, hitting the ground running. He tore into the mud pit without hesitation, crawling low, sparks snapping above him. Mak’lor tried to match his pace but took two hits and fell back.

The balance beam forced Ay’dar to slow. He drew on his training, keeping his steps deliberate and steady. Mak’lor charged and nearly toppled into the muck.

On the cargo net, Ay’dar moved with force and speed, grip sure, feet driving him upward. Mak’lor shook the net from below, but Ay’dar snarled and kicked down, forcing him to back off.

He caught the zipline, sped down, and landed hard, rolling into motion. The swinging obstacles loomed large. Ay’dar slipped past one, leaned under another, and slammed his shoulder into a third, sending it spinning away.

The log went in one vault. The ladder rose ahead. Mak’lor was still behind but gaining. They climbed side by side, boots thudding on the rungs. Ay’dar grunted again as he pushed himself over the top. Then, letting out a fierce victory scream, he threw his fists in the air.

Mason winked at RJ and set off at a sprint. He was tall, but that wall was a monster and a half. Ropes were helpful, though, but he ignored them at first, turning and hitting the wall with his back. Bracing himself, he cupped his hands just as RJ reached the wall. Without slowing, the human put his booted foot into Mason’s hands, just as the big llanarian heaved upward, throwing him up toward the top of the wall. Taking running back ten feet, Mason turned and hurtled himself at the wall. Jumping, he planted a foot halfway, catching RJ’s hand and getting hauled the rest of the way up to the top.

“You bring me to the nicest places,” RJ grinned as they dropped back to the ground on the other side of the wall.

“Yeah, say that after this,” Mason grumbled as they started to crawl through the mud under the net. He wasn’t the smallest guy, so the air was littered with curses as he got shocked every other movement he made. RJ got off lighter, ahead of him out from under the net and hopping from beam to beam with an ease that had to prove he was part bird or something. Mason followed, with control but far less grace, hoping that the things didn’t break off as he thundered across them.

He made time up on the cargo net, grinning over his shoulder as RJ swore behind him. Using the time on the zipline, he studied what was ahead, dropping lightly to the ground and waiting for RJ to join him.

“Oh, this looks like fun.” RJ’s eyes sparkled, and Mason paused for a moment. Even covered in mud, he was stunning. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Mason rumbled. “Stay behind me and watch the—“

But RJ was already past him, already running the gauntlet. Mason shook his head and followed. “Bloody pain of a human!”

He cleared the log a half second after RJ, but caught him on the run, throwing a kiss over his shoulder as he reached the ladder.

Jinaril sprinted ahead, Torvak keeping pace beside him. They reached the wall together. Jinaril caught the rope and drove upward in smooth, powerful pulls. Torvak climbed alongside, trying to edge him out.

Jinaril swung over the top and dropped into a crouch, already moving. The mud pit slowed him a fraction, but he stayed low, weaving through the wires with sharp precision. Behind him, Torvak yelped as a spark snapped against his arm.

On the balance beam, Jinaril barely broke stride. His steps were light and quick. Torvak tried to match him, slipped, and caught himself just before falling.

The cargo net was a blur of movement. Jinaril hauled himself up, each pull clean and strong. At the top, he caught the zipline and slid down with steady control, landing without a stumble.

The pendulums swung toward him like wild arms. He shifted left, then right, ducked under one and spun around another. Torvak charged straight through and got clipped, stumbling to the side.

The log went in one clean vault. Jinaril hit the ladder still carrying momentum. Torvak closed in. They climbed together, rungs clattering under their boots, but Jinaril was the first to crest the top.

The horn sounded again as the last contestants touched the flags and sat, breathing heavily with the effort, sat or sprawled onto the soft mountain grass below the platform.

Before long, Kravok descended the ladder with Captain Thorne and stood before the group, a large smile on his face. He clapped his hands together once, and said: “Well run! Starfleet is as determined as I was led to believe. We have tallied your times, and it looks like the Starfleet team was faster! Well done, Captain! Your Task Force is a credit to your fleet.” He held out his hand, and Jaya took it, shaking it vigorously.

“Now,” he continued, “If you don’t mind, I have a battle song to write about your glory, and you have a celebration to attend! majQa’!” He motioned to a trail that led down to a large bonfire, where the contestants drank and ate, and celebrated until the sun began to creep up towards the horizon.