Hello again, everyone, and welcome to my Escape from Tarkov/Mass Effect crossover. I'm happy to see that my newest story has gotten some good feedback on the pilot chapter. To be honest, I wasn't too certain if this was going to work out. Now that I know that people are interested, I'm interested in keeping this going. Thank you.

Don't forget to check out the poll on my profile. You get to pick two choices, and vote for those two. Once a certain amount of time's passed, I'll take it down and announce the winner. Vote while you still can!

For those of you who aren't familiar with Escape from Tarov, there's a wiki that's available for you to look at. Just look up 'Escape from Tarkov Wiki' on Google and you should find it. I recommend reading up on it. Doing so will help you understand this crossover better.

Either way, thank you for your support, and I hope to see you again.

As always, leave a review and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Escape from Tarkov or Mass Effect franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Game Stuidos, 343 Industries, Bungie and Battlestate Games. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.

Geneburn – Betrayal

SSV Normandy

Approaching Eden Prime

2183

Normally, for those in the Systems Alliance, a shakedown run was normal. If a new ship came out, you had to go on a shakedown run to make sure it ran normally, as well as to help the crew become acclimatized to the ship itself. It was very much the story for the newly constructed SSV Normandy, even though it was the cutting edge in warship development.

However, as Shepard now knew, it was anything but ordinary. Recently, they had gotten a distress signal from Eden Prime, with a team reporting heavy casualties before the COM transmission cut out. What had Shepard's attention, however, was the unusual warship in the transmission footage. It looked like a giant squid, he thought as he prepared his kit in the cargo hold. Either way, we'll know more once we get to the surface.

That prompted him to look up and around at the people going on the mission. There was Jenkins, a wet-behind-the-ears rookie that had a good head on his shoulders. He was young and enthusiastic, but he was smart enough to not want a fight he couldn't win. Aside from that, his only real flaw was inexperience.

That brought Shepard to Jenkin's polar opposite in many ways: Kaidan Alenko. Unlike Jenkins, who was loud and enthusiastic, Kaidan was calm, quiet and collected. In many ways he had to be; not a lot of biotics knew how to handle their powers all that well. Kaidan was unique in that he could. Aside from that, he was just your ordinary Alliance Marine.

As he prepared his kit, he watched as the CO of the ship walked over to him. The man was tall, had dark skin, and bright green eyes that helped frame his facial features and dark brown hair. The man exuded an aura of authority, but also an aura of respect, dignity and understanding. This was none other than Captain David Anderson, a legendary war hero in the Alliance military, as well as a dream of a man to serve under.

As they flew along, he heard the pilot of the ship, a man named Joker, speaking. "Someone did a lot of serious digging down there," he told the others.

"You're team's the muscle of this operation," Anderson told Shepard. "Your mission is to get in there and find the Beacon."

"What about survivors?" Kaidan asked.

"Helping others is a secondary objective," Anderson replied. "The mission's your top priority." As he said this, the cargo hold doors opened, allowing the air of Eden Prime to fill the hold.

"Approaching drop point one," Joker announced.

Jenkins, who was standing to Shepard's left, asked, "Nihlus, you coming with?"

That prompted Shepard to look towards his left. Standing there was a tall, humanoid alien. It was tall, around seven feet and ten inches in height, with two digitigrade legs that had two toed feet. It's waist was narrow, while it's chest and shoulders were wide. Two unusually human-like arms ended in three fingered talons. It's muscular neck attached to an elongated head that had a flat face. Behind it's dark brown facial plates and white paint were two avian-like green eyes that held a predatory intelligence combined with true sapience.

Shepard knew who this was. This was Nihlus Kyrik, a Council Spectre that had come along on the shakedown run. An experienced Turian soldier, Nihlus was reputed for finding the best solution to a problem in a short time. He was also here to evaluate Shepard, as Shepard had shown the skills needed to become a Spectre.

Nihlus, though, was occupied with the mission, as he didn't glance at Jenkins for a moment. "I move faster on my own," he told the young private, his flanging voice loud and clear over the howling wind.

As the Spectre exited the ship, Anderson said, "Nihlus will scout out ahead. He'll feed you regular reports. Beyond that, I want complete radio silence."

"We've got his back, Captain," Shepard replied.

"The mission's yours now, Shepard. Good luck!" With that, Joker reached drop point two.

As Shepard and his team piled out, the legendary pilot noticed an odd energy reading on his sensor suite. Strange, he thought as he looked at the reading. I think I should tell the Captain about this when he's got time. Either way, I've got to keep working.

. . .

The first thing that told William that he wasn't dead was the fact that he felt pain, and quite a bit of it. It came not only from his feet and head, it also came from the arm that had suffered a glancing blow from an SKS round. The other thing that told him he was alive was the warmth he felt, as well as the fact that light was streaming into his eyes.

Groaning as he got up, he slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the light as he got up. Well, my arm's not broken, he thought as he got up. If it was, it would be hurting a lot more. Probably just got bruised. Now that he was up, he took a look around.

To his amazement, he was not in The Labs, nor was he in some nameless Cultists' camp awaiting torture. Instead, he found himself standing in what appeared to be some kind of a forested area, but it wasn't the forest near Customs. For one, the trees were different than any he'd ever seen before, along with the grass. He was also in a gorge of some kind, as he could see rocky walls around him.

OK, he thought as he sat down on a nearby rock. I'm in a forest that I don't recognize and the trees are a species I've never seen before. Strange. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, then he rejected the thought. Pain is one thing that always cuts through a hallucination.

With that in mind, he decided to see if he needed medical treatment. Taking off his tactical rig and plate carrier, he rolled up the sleeve on his right arm. Fortunately, his earlier guess was correct, as he didn't feel or see any bones that were broken. What he did see, however, was an ugly bruise that was forming. Better that than a broken bone, he thought. Putting his gear back on, he popped a painkiller into his mouth and took a swig from his canteen, both to help the pill go down and to slake his thirst.

Now that his immediate problem had been sorted out, he had another one: finding his weapons. Fortunately, they had landed right next to him, as he almost immediately found them. His M4 had some dirt on it, but was otherwise intact, along with his sidearm. The contents of his backpack were also intact. It could've gone quite badly, he thought. At least I'm intact, along with my gear. Shrugging the gear on, he began to advance forwards, as he had nothing else to do but move.

The ground of this alien place crunched and scraped underneath his boots as he moved forwards, rifle in hand. He didn't know why, but he felt on edge, enough that he needed his rifle drawn and ready. Something's wrong, he thought. I don't know what or why, but I know that something's off. Out of habit, he began to move from tree to tree, weapon at the ready.

It was an instinct that saved his life. Suddenly, there was motion from up ahead, along with gunfire. Ducking into cover, William watched as bullets smacked into the tree he was taking cover behind, digging craters and gouges into the trunk. Leaning out, he was surprised to see what looked like two robots that had some kind of gun turret on the underside of their chassis'. They were also floating, something that stymied him.

Either way, they're a threat, he thought. Time to give them some of my... Tarkov hospitality. Putting his rifle on single fire, he leaned out and fired a single shot at each drone.

Either they were under armored, or not built for this kind of warfare, as both robots were taken down by the two bullets fired. When he leaned out, they fired as well, with the rounds impacting against his armor. Grunting from each impact, he watched as the robots were destroyed by his bullets, each one falling to the ground, motionless.

Checking himself, he was surprised to see that the rounds hadn't penetrated his armor. The outer layer of aramid that was the plate carrier had a pair of small holes, but the titanium plate only had a minor dent. Low grade ammunition, he decided. Not surprising.

Walking up to one of the robots, he checked them over. To his satisfaction, all of his bullets had impacted, penetrating the armor plating and scrambling the components inside; one had even fragmented, causing further damage. Hmm, just as I suspected, he thought. Low grade armor plating doesn't fare well against M995 ammunition. The weird thing is that I don't see any ammunition reserves. What do these things fire?

His thoughts were interrupted by what he thought was gunfire up ahead. Rifle held at the ready, he advanced forwards, before breaking out into a run towards the sound. His boots clomped heavily against the ground, while his pants brushed and scraped against tall grass. The supplies in his backpack bounced up and down, making quiet clicking sounds as he ran forward.

Eventually, he found the source of the noise. Coming to a stop, he slowly leaned out to the left, rifle at the ready. To his surprise, he found two, humanoid robots that were standing near his position. They were standing on digitigrade legs and their heads were elongated. Each one had a single glowing optic in the center of their heads. Tubes and what looked like artificial muscles were present between what looked like armor plating.

It was what they shot that had O'Connor's attention. Each one had rifles that, while organic looking, were clearly electronic in nature. Looking at where they were pointed, he nearly gasped when he saw two civilians lying dead on the ground. Their heads had holes that weeped blood and cerebrospinal fluid.

That made him angry. It was one thing to shoot a Scav out of self-defense, but it was frowned upon to kill someone that was defenseless. Without a thought, William leaned out some more and fired his rifle, this time putting it on fully automatic fire.

This time, the robots were more durable than their flying cousins, as the bullets had to penetrate thicker armor plating. The first one went down all the same, with four bullets piercing through it's armor and into it's chassis. It emitted a loud, inhuman squeal as it fell to the ground. It's partner, having heard the sound, whirled around as well, only to receive four bullets to the torso, shutting it down as well.

Just as he was about to advance forwards, a third robot appeared, this one being taller and, presumably, more heavily armored. It fired what looked like a shotgun, with William ducking into cover quickly enough to avoid getting hit. He wasn't entirely successful, as his left arm's armor caught some of the blast, spinning him around.

Ouch, he snarled inwardly. Suppressing his emotions, he pulled out one of his problem solvers: an M67 Frag Grenade. Pulling the pin, he waited a couple seconds before leaning out and tossing the grenade at the larger robot. A half second after it impacted, he heard the concussive report of the grenade detonating: a loud KA-BOOOM.

Leaning out, he aimed his rifle and fired off a burst at the robot, which had been staggered by the blast. A burst of bullets smacked against it's armor, with two penetrating an area that had been compromised. It let out a loud, inhuman screech as it's systems went offline.

Looking at his armor, he could see more denting where the shot had smacked against his arm. No broken bones, thankfully. You usually don't get that lucky. I guess the dice is rolling in a good fashion for me today. Shrugging, he advanced forwards, thankful that the painkiller was kicking in.

Eventually, he came to what he realized was a city or building of some kind. It was tall, probably as tall as a three story building, with elegant curved architecture, silvery-white metal tiling, as well as supporting cables. Cargo crates were present on the deck of the area, as well as catwalks that led down and out of sight. Nearby, he could see construction material, mostly pipping and other things.

What had his attention was what was walking on the cargo area ahead of him. It was tall, probably a head and shoulders taller than he was. It stood on digitigrade legs that ended in two toed feet, had a thin waist, and a broad upper body and shoulders. Two arms connected to three fingered hands or talons, given how pointed the fingertips were, with one of those likely being a prosthetic. It's muscular neck connected to a head that had three horny crests, as well as a flat face that was covered in what looked like bony plates. It was turned away from him, so he didn't see it's face.

Not wanting to take any chances, he ducked down behind cover, peering around the right side as he aimed at the alien. Is it native to this place? he wondered. If so, where are the others? Are there others like it here?

He got his answer to some of his questions when another one came up towards the first alien. Unlike the first one, which was wearing dull silver armor, this one wore black and red armor, and had what looked like a blocky rifle in it's hands. It took cover for a moment, before it came out from behind cover. Apparently, it knew the first one, as it said something in a series of flanging clicks and growls that sounded like words.

The first one merely turned around, before walking up to the second one. It was clear that they knew each other, and were likely friends, as the second one relaxed. It talked some more, just as the first one pointed a gun at it's head.

That had William alarmed, and greatly so. I don't know who or what they are, but I do know betrayal when I see it, he thought. That meant that he had a choice: let the second one die and remain hidden, or engage the first one and save the second one. After a millisecond of agonizing indecision, he made his choice. Aiming his rifle, he shouted, "Look out!" before letting off a burst.

. . .

For Nihlus, this was highly unusual. Aiming his rifle at the Turian, his eyes widened as he saw who it was, his arms going slack for a moment. "Saren?!" he asked, surprised by what he was seeing.

The now identified Saren turned around, his cybernetically enhanced features looking at Nihlus. "Nihlus," he said a moment later, walking towards the other Turian as he spoke.

"This isn't your mission, Saren," Nihlus stated. "What are you doing here?"

"The Council thought you could use some help on this one," Saren replied, resting a hand on Nihlus' shoulder as he walked behind him.

"I didn't expect to find the Geth here," Nihlus continued, both eyes peering ahead. "The situation's bad."

"Don't worry," Saren replied. "I've got it under control."

Just as Nihlus was about to turn around, he heard a human voice shout, "Look out!" Turning around, he was just in time to avoid being shot in the head, as the bullet pierced his right mandible instead. Gasping in pain, he staggered backwards, falling on his back behind a cargo crate.

For a moment, Saren was surprised, caught off guard by what sounded like a Human voice. He was about to advance forwards to finish Nihlus off when he saw three projectiles zipping past his head. Throwing himself forwards, he rolled behind a crate and leaned out, weapon at the ready.

Scanning the area ahead, he looked for whatever had attacked him. Moments later, he spotted three flashes of light coming from a rock up ahead, corresponding with three impacts against the crate he was behind. This time, he fired back, though whoever fired at him was smart enough to duck behind cover, as his own rounds hit against the rock in question.

He was about to advance forwards when he spotted something flying at him. Using his biotics, he launched a bolt of dark energy at the object, only for it to explode in mid-air, showering the area with shrapnel. He felt some shrapnel dig into his face, eliciting a snarl as he ducked behind cover.

He was about to move out of cover and fire again when he heard thumping footsteps approaching his position. This time, more gunfire rang out, with a projectile slicing a part of his three pronged horn crest. Snarling, Saren threw a biotic shockwave out, his mandibles spreading in a smile as he heard a loud "OOOOFFFF!" Leaning out of cover, he saw his assailant.

It was a Human, but he was wearing gear that he'd never seen before. It didn't look like a combat hardsuit, as Saren could see what he thought were clothes on the Human's forearms and legs. The chest and head, however, were well armored, with a camouflage pattern present. The Human was also using what appeared to be nonstandard weapons of some kind, which would explain the flashes of light he saw.

While the Human was knocked down, it was clear that he, as it was clearly a male, hadn't lost his wits for a moment. The Human used his legs to move backwards, while he fired his rifle at the same time. While he moved into cover, Saren was surprised to see shells coming out of the right side of the Human's weapon. Is that Human mad? he thought, surprised. Who uses chemical powered weapons anymore?

He leaned out again, firing his rifle at the alien. Four shots successfully hit the Human, though the clunking sounds indicated they had hit the armor, and not the unarmored portions of the Human. Moments later, the Human got up and, letting his his primary weapon dangle on a sling, drew out a sidearm, firing four shots at Saren.

This time, one of the rounds had an effect. Saren gasped as he felt something impact part of his armored waist. At first, it felt as though a Turian had punched him in that area, then he felt an intense, burning sensation as the nerves there registered what happened. He managed to injure me, he thought.

Moments later, his primal instincts took over. Roaring both in rage and pain, Saren unleashed a biotic throw, with the Human barely getting behind a crate in time. Moments later, he heard the Human growl, «Ӌертовски сука!», before more gunfire rang out from the Human.

Saren was about to press the attack when his barriers shimmered. Looking to his right, he spotted Nihlus firing at him, the right side of his face covered in blood as he fought back. Snarling, Saren used a biotic lift on Nihlus before throwing the Spectre into the other Human, sending them both tumbling down in a mess of limbs. Grunting as he felt pain in his waist, he vaulted over the railing and landed, snarling as the wound flared in protest. Without any preamble, he headed for the Prothean Beacon as quickly as he could.

. . .

This is embarrassing, William thought as he pushed the alien off of him. First, I get yanked onto what I now know is an alien world, then I end up getting thrown around by an alien that thinks it's a fucking wizard of some kind. Who did I piss off to end up in this situation?

Getting up, he leaned over the railing and, spotting the first alien, fired off a pair of parting shots. Both rounds hit, with one impacting armor, while another tore a bloody gash against the alien's right arm. It ignored him as it limped forwards, disappearing out of sight moments later.

"Fuck!" he shouted. "I almost had 'im. I'll bag you someday, you little backstabbing fucker!" Sighing, he reloaded his handgun, before holstering it.

Turning around, he watched as the second alien used some kind of gelatinous substance on itself, with what looked like a glowing orange holographic interface on it's right arm. Once the hole had been patched, the alien dried whatever blood hadn't seeped into it's armor before getting up. Once it did so, it looked directly at William.

William very rarely felt intimidated by anything that looked at him, but for some reason, this alien's gaze slightly unsettled him. It was like having an apex predator gazing directly at you, something that had his primal instincts ringing the alarm bell. The logical side of him, though, stated that if it was going to eat him, then it would've either done so by now, or it would've been pumped full of tungsten carbide and gilding metal.

Apparently, it was also sensible, as it said something in those flanging clicks and growls. "I'm sorry," William said to the alien. "I don't understand what you're saying." Remembering his classes in sign language, he motioned to the alien that he didn't understand it at all.

Apparently, it understood sign language, as it did something on it's holographic interface. For a moment, as it spoke, it's words were incomprehensible, then they seemed to morph into something familiar. A moment later, a deep, flanging voice said in English, "Do you understand me now?"

Whoa! O'Connor thought, surprised. Real time translation units! I need one of those. Shaking off the disorientation, he said, "Uh… yes. I do now. What are you, or rather, who are you?"

The alien was silent for a moment, then he, as the voice was unmistakably male, said, "My name's Nihlus Kryik. I'm a Spectre working for the Citadel Council. As for what I am, I'm a Turian, a species native to Palaven. Who are you?"

Shit, William thought as he considered his answer. If I tell the truth, I might come off as crazy, but it's my only chance of getting out of this alive… Fuck… Oh, to hell with it. Here goes. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm William, William O'Connor. Former USEC Operator. I was in Tarkov when I had some crazy-ass shit happen to me."

"USEC?"

"United Security. PMC company that I used to work for. They're – Wait a minute. You don't know who they are?"

"No."

"Oh, OK. That explains a lot of shit, come to think of it." Looking at Nihlus, he said, "Well, I might be sounding crazy, but what if I told you I was from the early 21st century? Would you be willing to believe that? Besides, I've never heard of the Spectres, or your 'Citadel Council' for that matter? It might as well be Greek to me."

There was a moment of silent, then Nihlus got the meaning of the idiom. "Normally, I'd say you were crazy," he decided, "but right now, there's a lot at stake and I, for some strange reason, believe you. You can hold your own in a fight, as I clearly saw from back here, even if you're using old weaponry. You think you can help me secure something we're here to retrieve."

"Sure," William nodded, not fully certain as to what Nihlus meant. "As long as it doesn't get me landed in an insane asylum, then it's fine by me." He was about to continue when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, rifle raised, he fired two consecutive bursts, offlining a pair of Geth that were moving up behind them.

"S'kak!" Nihlus growled. "The Geth are coming!"

"Is that what those flimsy ass robots are called?" William asked. When Nihlus nodded, he said, "Alright. I'll cover this area. Can you cover my back? We've only just met each other, but if we don't work together, we'll both get killed."

"Yes," Nihlus replied, priming his shotgun. "May the Spirits be with us." With that, the fight began.

Moving into cover, William watched a few bullets zip past him. Within a second, the confused emotions he felt vanished, replaced with cold logic and detachment. Leaning out of cover, he fired off more bullets, 'killing' a few Geth. Hearing the click of his rifle becoming empty, he ducked into cover and reloaded, pulling the empty mag out and sliding a new one in. Slapping the bolt release, he leaned out of cover and continued to fire.

As he did so, Nihlus blasted any Geth coming at them from the rear. Hearing more percussive reports, he briefly glanced back to see William firing on the Geth with his rifle. It used an ancient method of firing, but it was surprisingly effective, as the bullets tore into the Geth, piercing armor and shredding internal components. Not bad, for an old gun, he thought as he turned back to his normal business.

If these Geth are supposed to be our machine overlords, then they're doing a fucking bad job of that, O'Connor thought as he destroyed another Geth, sending it's shredded body falling to the ground. I'm only a quarter of the way through the mags in my tactical rig, and I've already killed more than five of these fuckers.

Firing his rifle again, he silenced another one, just as a bullet smacked into his chest. The rounds, which were more powerful than what the fliers fired, caused him to stumble slightly, though he fired on the offending Geth, killing it. Another bullet smacked into his helmet visor, causing an impact crater and some cracks to radiate outward.

Despite his vision being blurred from the impact, he continued to fire, rifle blazing as he terminated the offending Geth. That was when he felt a bullet graze his unarmored forearm, sending a jolt of pain down the limb. Hissing, he fired on the offending Geth, sending it scrambling into cover before tossing a grenade in it's direction.

As the grenade detonated, he rolled and got up, aiming his rifle. Thankfully, no more Geth were inbound, allowing him to tend to his injury. Fortunately, it was a grazing hit, with the bullet having trailed a long and narrow, but bloody, furrow into his skin. Putting his backpack down, he pulled out a medical kit he always carried with him: a Grizzly Medical Kit.

Pulling out some gauze and bandages, he cleaned the wound with some disinfectant before putting the gauze pad on the wound, after which he wrapped it up, using the adhesive strip to lock the bandage into place. Satisfied, he zipped up the kit and put it back into his pack.

"You're hurt!" Nihlus remarked, having spotted the injury.

"A flesh wound," William replied. "I'll be fine. Still, those were some fucking bad robots. What are they? Fucking pushovers?"

"They're Geth," Nihlus replied. "Still, given the state of the ones that you shot. I can see why you would ask that question. You're a good soldier."

"Thank you." As he said this, he spotted a trio of people moving down towards them. One was a woman wearing white and red colored armor, and another was a man wearing black and slate gray armor. The last one was a man wearing similarly colored armor, with his blue eyes looking directly at William. Oh, boy, he thought. Here we go again.