Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Escape from Tarkov/Mass Effect crossover. Thank you all for your support. I greatly appreciate the feedback that I'm getting, and I hope you continue to follow this story.

By the way, this is the last week that I'll be having my poll on my profile. If you haven't already voted on a choice, this is your last week to do so. Once the week is concluded, I will close the poll and announce the winners. Given that I've got ideas for other crossovers, however, another poll will be started soon.

Either way, thank you for your support, and I hope to see you in future chapters.

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 BioWare, Electronic Arts 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 - Vibrating

Deep Space

Unknown Warship

2183

Deep inside the bowels of his ship, Saren was reclining on a chair that had been made for him. He winced as he adjusted his position in the chair, prompting him to look down at where the Human had injured him. Where there had been a bullet wound, there was now some cloned flesh, as well as some bio-weave that his body would fill in over time. The area where he'd been grazed had also been tended to, with a bandage and some medigel.

The fact that Human was able to injure me is alarming, to say the least, he thought as he felt the area where his hip bones had been hit. That single slug was able to shatter my left hip bone after penetrating my armor and bypassing it's kinetic barriers. A weapon that old and with such an ancient method of operation shouldn't have been able to injure me.

On top of that, the Human's armor, despite being ancient, had withstood multiple hits from mass accelerator rounds that would penetrate the ceramic plating that would otherwise be vulnerable. That was enough to give him pause, but what had his attention was that the Human moved the way a soldier could. The precision he commanded with his ancient weaponry had also caught Saren's attention.

That man is a soldier, he decided as he massaged the area where his hip bone was at, the bones there having been repaired and put back together. The way he moved, and the way he adapted to changing circumstances indicated that and more.

On top of that, he spoiled my plans to frame Shepard for the loss of the Beacon and for Nihlus' death. I'll have to watch my back fairly closely from now on. Still, when I encounter that Human again, I will find out where he came from, after which, I'll kill him.

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard a feminine voice behind him. The voice was solemn and imperious, as though it belonged to a queen or goddess of old. "We identified the Alliance ship as the Normandy. It was under the command of Captain David Anderson. They managed to save the entire colony."

"And the beacon?" Saren asked.

"One of the Humans may have used it."

The moment Saren heard that, he bolted up right in his seat. Shock suffused his body, then it was replaced by intense, white-hot rage. His thoughts dissolved into a primal state of rage and animalistic instinct as he let out a single, bellowing roar. Biotics flaring, he hurled loose items that were near him into the air, sending them flying like missiles. Turning towards the figure, an Asari, he grabbed her by the head.

The moment he did, though, his anger abated. I can't afford to hurt her now, a logical part of his mind whispered to him. If I do now, I lose a valuable supporter, one that has succeeded numerous times. Reigning in his rage, he let out a long sigh before he said, "This Human must be eliminated. Spare the unknown, though."

"Why," the Asari asked.

"Because he is… unusual," Saren explained. "I cannot explain it, but I just know that he is not your ordinary Human. Send assassins to the Citadel. Hunt down and kill anyone that can further implicate me in what happened. As always, you have my full confidence."

"I shall do so at once," the Asari replied.

As she left, Saren sat down in his seat once more. Now that his rage was gone, he could think more clearly than before. Rage is an excellent anesthetic, he smiled. Now, I must determine how to deal with this… unplanned variable.

. . .

There was one thing that O'Connor had to admit, the spaceships of the future certainly had style. He was currently in the mess hall of the Normandy, munching on an MRE that he'd gotten out of his backpack. Nearby, he could see other members of the crew looking at him, eyes gazing directly at him as he ate.

I can't blame them for doing that, he thought as he swallowed some of the chicken dumplings in his mouth. Here I am, a man from the early 21st century, eating chicken dumplings in a warship from the 22nd century. Talk about being a fish out of water.

There was one bit of irony that he could take comfort in, though. At least my weapons are still effective. A hundred and sixty two years into the future, and my weapons are still kicking ass and taking names. Makes me wonder what happened to their guns in between here and there.

He'd learned of the time difference when he had gotten onto the Normandy. The moment he was onboard, he'd been whisked away to Dr. Chakwas, the medical officer onboard the warship. He had to admit, he found her kind green eyes, graying hair and British accent strangely pleasing, though he knew that there wasn't anything… unusual about that.

She was quite insistent that she check him over though. She had said, in her own words, "If you really are from the 21st century, then you'll need vaccinations of all kinds in order to survive any diseases present in our time." Fortunately, said vaccinations were quick and painless, a far cry from how things were in the 21st century.

Now he was in the mess hall, getting some much needed food after falling asleep for a good fourteen or so hours. I fell asleep on the medical cot, he thought, remembering the look Chakwas had on her face once he woke up. I must've been dead tired if I fell asleep the moment I laid down. I didn't even notice being tired.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone walking over to him. Looking up, he spotted a man wearing an officer's uniform walking over to him. The man was tall, about as tall as O'Connor was, and had a stately appearance. Two brown colored eyes looked at him with the wisdom and experience of a man that had seen it all. His facial features were strongly African in shape, and his dark brown, almost black, hair was neatly trimmed short. "I assume you had a good night's rest," he asked.

"Yes," O'Connor replied. "If your doctor is to be believed, I fell asleep the moment I laid down on the cot. I guess my state of unconsciousness back at Eden Prime wasn't as restful as I thought."

"Probably," the man agreed. After a moment, he started and said, "My apologies. I don't think I've introduced myself." Extending a hand, he said, "Captain David Anderson, CO of the Normandy."

Out of courtesy, O'Connor shook the man's hand. "William O'Connor. Former USEC Operator."

"So I've heard," Anderson nodded. "I must admit, I was skeptical of what you told Nihlus at first. When I did my research, however, I found out there was no way for you to lie about what happened. On top of that, you were visibly impressed by the Normandy, as well as the medical facilities present. Your gear was also a dead giveaway that you were from the past."

"How so?" O'Connor asked. "How are you certain that I'm a genuine time traveler, and not a clever fake?"

"Because there was no such corporation as USEC during the 21st century," Anderson countered. "On top of that, there was no such city as Tarkov, or a place like the Norvinsk Special Economic Zone. I also looked through your personal belongings while you were asleep." As O'Connor stood up, Anderson raised a hand and said, "I know, it's rude to do so, but I needed confirmation that you were telling the truth."

Holding up a small, leather back book, he said, "I found this in your pack, your journal from what I can tell, and began to read. I didn't find the ramblings of a madman, nor the schemes and conniving of a con artist. Instead, I found the journal of a soldier that was disillusioned with his employers and sought to escape from the city of Tarkov, a man that, while jaded, felt some sympathy for the people trapped inside.

"Your recollection of events and dealings are far too detailed to be anything but true. Short of anything, but an Asari mind meld, we don't have better confirmation. That's why I've decided to allow you to remain as a free man. On top of that, you saved Nihlus from being killed."

O'Connor was briefly taken back by what Anderson had just said. He'd been prepared to defend his story, as he knew it was fully and completely true, only for Anderson to accept his account of things after looking through his personal things. He's got a smart head on his shoulders, I'll give him that, O'Connor thought. After a moment, he said, "Thank you, Anderson. I was just about to defend my position."

"No need to do so," Anderson beamed. "Your journal made your case." Handing it back, he said, "I also wanted to talk to you about something else. You remember that other Turian that was with Nihlus?"

"Yeah," O'Connor nodded. "I think his name was 'Saren' if I recall correctly."

"Well, he -" Anderson was interrupted when he heard something on his earpiece. After a moment, he said, "Can you come with me, O'Connor."

"Yes."

With that, the two went back inside of the medical bay. "How's our XO holding up?" Anderson asked Chawkwas.

"All the readings look normal," Chawkwas replied. "I think the Commander's going to be fine."

"Good," Anderson beamed. "Can we have the place to ourselves for a moment?"

"Of course." A few seconds later, only Anderson, Shepard and O'Connor were in the medical bay.

"How are you holding up?" Anderson asked Shepard.

"Fine," Shepard replied. "Jenkins, though… I don't like soldiers dying under my command."

"What happened to Jenkins wasn't your fault, Shepard. None of us could've done a thing. I feel for him, though, which is why I ordered a full burial ceremony for him. He'll get the rest that he needs."

"Say, William's isn't part of the crew, and neither is O'Connor."

"I know. O'Connor's going to be staying with us for the time being. He's a key eye witness as to what happened. As for Ashley, I've added her to the crew roster."

"William's a good soldier. She deserves it."

"I felt the same too. That's why I brought her along."

"Mind if you tell me what's going on."

At that, Anderson sighed, his arms behind his back. "I won't lie to you, Shepard. Things aren't looking good, though they're better since Nihlus is alive. He's currently delivering a full report to the Citadel Council. From what I could gather, however, they're not happy that their top agent, Saren, attempted to kill another Spectre."

"I hope the Council sees that I didn't do anything wrong," Shepard firmly stated to Anderson.

"They don't. That much I know for certain. During my time up there, they applauded your effort to get the mission done. As for me, you're a damned good hero in my book, Shepard. It's that other Turian though. Saren.

"Saren's a Spectre, one of their best. A living legend; but if he's working for the Geth now, then that means he's gone rouge. A rouge Spectre's trouble, Shepard. That's why the Council is disgruntled at what happened.

"But I know Saren. His politics, his methods. This attack was an act of war! He hates Humans; thinks were a blight on the galaxy. He won't stop until the entire galaxy has been cleansed of Humanity."

"So he's a genocidal racist, with an army at his backing," O'Connor remarked. "Great… just fucking great. Well, looks like fascism isn't exclusive to Humanity."

"Unfortunately," Anderson nodded. Looking at Shepard, he said, "Still, he wouldn't go after a Prothean Beacon like the one on Eden Prime unless he had good reason. You were there, Shepard. Did you see anything that Saren might've been after."

Shepard's face became thoughtful, then he said, "Just before I lost consciousness, I had a vision of some kind."

"A vision?" Anderson asked. "What kind of vision?"

"I saw synthetics, Geth maybe, slaughtering people. Butchering them."

"We need to tell the Council of this when we can do so."

"What do we tell them?" O'Connor asked dubiously. "That Shepard here had a bad dream? If I know governments, that won't fly at all."

"Normally, no," Anderson agreed. "But Shepard did come into contact with a Prothean Beacon. That might be enough to have them heed us in that regard. Still, they'll be hunting Saren down. Once we get to the Citadel, and the Embassies, we'll know more from them."

"Anything else, sir?" Shepard asked.

"Head up to the cockpit when you can," Anderson told Shepard. "You might want to follow him, O'Connor. The Citadel can be a breathtaking sight for newcomers. Dismissed."

With that, O'Connor and Shepard were left to themselves. Turning to O'Connor, Shepard said, "O'Connor, you did well out there. Thanks for assisting us."

"It was either that, or get killed," O'Connor remarked. "Still, I wasn't going to let the Geth kill more innocents. It was a bit of an unspoken rule in Tarkov: don't kill anyone that isn't armed and dangerous. It's a waste of ammo and time, along with the ethical reasons as to why."

"Was it that bad?" When O'Connor nodded, Shepard let out a long, low whistle. "Damn. Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Besides, it was a bit of a good way for a civilian to avoid being killed, in a few areas that is. Most of the time, though, most Scavs and Cultists didn't care two shits about that rule." After a moment, he said, "I think we should pay Joker a visit. Something tells me he's more of the sarcastic type, though."

"Maybe," Shepard agreed. "I'll be with you soon. I'm going to check in with Ashley, make sure she's doing OK."

"See you later." With that, both men left the medical bay, with Shepard going to check on Ashley, while O'Connor headed up the stairs.

Seeing the CIC for the first time was something that had him interested. Holographic technology, he thought. Looks like Star Wars got that right, along with a few other things. He was distracted enough by the hologram of the galaxy that he ran into someone. Whoever it was must've been built like a brick house, as O'Connor stumbled backwards.

Shaking his head, he was about to grumble when he spotted a familiar pair of eagle eyes. "Nihlus," he remarked as the Turian looked at him. "Sorry about that. Wasn't looking where I was going."

"No harm done," Nihlus replied. "You looked distracted, so I figured as much."

"Thanks. Say, how's the face, by the way?"

"Doing well. I'm a little surprised by how much xenobiology Dr. Chakwas knows. According to her, the injury should be healed withing a couple weeks. Beyond that, no further damage was done.

"Still, I didn't get a chance to properly thank you for saving my life. I don't know what happened to bring you here, but I believe that the Spirits had something to do about it. Either way, you have my gratitude, as well as the Council's."

"Good to see that I could do some good around here."

"Don't sell yourself short, O'Connor. You did good when you saved my life, even if you hadn't known it then. When we arrive, the Council wishes to thank you in person, once we finish the investigation into Saren's betrayal."

"I see. Speaking of which, who's leading the investigation?"

"The Council's assigned C-SEC to the problem. The lead investigator is one Investigator Garrus Vakarian, one of their best people. He'll meet with us at the docks once we arrive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to tend to. It's been good talking to you, O'Connor."

"Likewise," O'Connor beamed. He was surprised when Nihlus extended a hand, though he returned the gesture moments later. Once the two parted ways, he moved towards the cockpit.

The cockpit was not as tight as he imagined it would've been, with a chair for a copilot, as well as what looked like FCS and Sensor stations. Walking forwards, he spotted the man piloting the ship. "Well, well," Joker beamed, "looks like it's the intrepid trans-dimensional time traveler. I need to get my autograph book."

O'Connor didn't know why, but he found it funny, as he found himself chuckling a moment later. "No autographs, please," he replied. "I was just coming up here for the view."

"Well, in that case, you're just in time," Joker beamed as Shepard walked onto the bridge. "You're about to see those taxpayer's dollars at work."

. . .

It wasn't long before they reached the Citadel. As the Normandy exited the Mass Relay, it began to fly through a thick nebula that was present in the area. It was so thick that O'Connor, who was looking out of the bridge viewports, couldn't see a thing out there. If the Citadel is here, he thought as the others walked onto the bridge, then it's probably somewhere in this foggy shit. If this is a way to keep it from being attacked, then it's a clever means of doing so.

For the next ten seconds, he couldn't see a thing, aside from the thick nebula. Then he saw it: the Citadel.

He had to admit, the Citadel was impressive, given that it was now plainly visible. The entire station was shaped like a pentagram, only the arms connected to a circular structure in the center of the Citadel. Five arms extended outwards for the entire length of the station, with the outside being heavily armored, while the inside was alive with city lights. Inside and outside of the arms, he could see warships flying through space, including a massive one that looked like a target reticule dot in a holographic sight.

"Nice, isn't it," Joker remarked.

"It's big, I can give it that," O'Connor agreed.

"Yep. Biggest structure ever built in the galaxy, aside from the Mass Relays, of course."

"What's that large ship right there?"

"The Ascension," Kaidan replied. "Flagship of the Citadel Fleet."

"Well, size isn't everything," Joker snorted.

"Why the touchy attitude," Ashley asked.

"Well, you've gotta have firepower too," Joker defended.

"I don't think that's a problem with the Ascension," O'Connor noted. "If that hole in the center is it's main gun, then I really don't want to be the poor bastard on the wrong end of it. It'd make a mess out of pretty much anything."

"Good thing it's on our side then," Kaidan nodded. As he looked out over the Citadel while Joker ran through the usual docking procedures, O'Connor knew one thing: the future was certainly about to become interesting.

. . .

Interesting, now that he thought about it, was an understatement. The Citadel, especially the Presidium, was drop dead gorgeous . Looking around, O'Connor could see the Presidium, which occupied the central ring he'd seen earlier. It was a beautiful place, with gorgeous gardens, elegant architecture, and a near-perfect simulation of a blue sky, with clouds and a sun. While the curvature of the place was a little disorienting, he found it to be quite enjoyable.

There was something that did dampen the good mood though. Once they had arrived, he'd been taken to a C-SEC holding cell, where investigators had questioned him, mostly to make sure he wasn't an insane person. After that, he'd handed over his journal, his personal belongings, as well as an item he hadn't mentioned to Anderson: a body camera that he'd hidden cleverly on his tactical rig. It, along with a data stick in his backpack, contained all of the information that had been recorded by the cam.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said to him, interrupting his thoughts. Looking to his right, O'Connor watched as Captain Anderson leaned on the railing next to him. "The Presidium. The destination for most of the politicians and leaders of the Citadel Races."

"Meaning it's full of politicians that don't give a shit about the people they're 'leading,'" O'Connor remarked bluntly.

"True," Anderson nodded, "though it's not always like that. The Turians, on average, are better about it. Having the ideal of 'service to others before self' indoctrinated into them helps to keep them honest. That, and most hate the profession. The term 'bare faced' is used to describe someone that's either a politician, or untrustworthy."

"Fitting."

"Indeed. Do you tend to be this blunt all the time?"

"Yes. When you've seen the shit that I have, you lose patience for people that use pretty words to waste your time."

"I see. If that's the case, then I think we'll get along just fine. I always did want to get the job done, instead of wasting time talking about it. You remind me of myself when I was your age."

"Good to see that I do."

Any conversation that would've continued was interrupted when the Ambassador for the Systems Alliance walked inside. A tall man with graying hair, wrinkled dark brown skin and brown eyes, Donnel Udina looked more like a grandfatherly figure than a statesman. Once he got to talking, though, one could hear the experience in politics in his voice, along with the ever present irritation that came with the job.

In this case, though, that irritation had either greatly diminished, or had gone away completely. "Captain Anderson," he greeted cordially. "I see you brought your entire crew, as well as the man that saved Nihlus' life."

"Just the members of the ground team," Anderson replied, "along with O'Connor. I assume the meeting went well?"

"The Council is greatly displeased by Saren's actions. They want answers as to why their top agent attempted to assassinate one of their rising stars. They are, however, grateful that their agent was rescued, even if the man's backstory is a little dubious to them."

"And what about you?"

"I think that O'Connor might be telling the truth. The man barely knows how to operate a modern computer, but when I handed him a relic of a computer from the time period he claimed to be at, he knew it like the back of his own hand. He was also visibly confused when other aliens tried to talk to him. Beyond getting him some technical training, better weapons, armor and a translator implant, I think he would do well in this time."

"True," O'Connor admitted. "When you handed me one of your computers, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Then you handed me that laptop and I knew what to do. Still, if you're talking about removing my armor, you can do that, but my guns stay with me. They work better than your electronic pieces of shit, thank you."

Normally, Udina would've shown irritation at that remark, but he knew that O'Connor was not only from a different time, he had a different way of thinking. As such, he showed a considerable level of control by simply saying, "Understandable." Turning to Anderson, he said, "Once C-SEC has handed in their official report, then we'll know if O'Connor is telling the truth, or if he's -"

He was promptly interrupted when a C-SEC agent, a Turian with white facial paint, walked inside. "Just finished our analysis," the agent reported. "All of O'Connor's articles are genuine. We also recovered a data drive that was in his backpack."

"And?"

"It contained a dossier on O'Connor and his past, including school records, military dossiers and employment records. None of the information was fabricated."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Ambassador Udina. C-SEC recruits the finest data forensic personnel that can be found in the galaxy. If there was even a remote piece of evidence that suggested fabrication, they would've found it hours ago. We scrubbed that data five times over; not once did we find anything that suggested the information was fabricated. The Executor believes that former Master Sergeant William O'Connor is telling the truth, and that his alibi is solid."

There was some silence before Udina spoke up, "I see… Inform the Executor that he has my thanks. It would've been embarrassing if this turned out to be an elaborate hoax."

"You're welcome, Ambassador." With that, the agent handed O'Connor a box, then left.

"Damn," Ashley remarked, her eyes wide with newfound respect for O'Connor. "Now we know that you're the real McCoy. Sorry about any suspicion we hurled at you earlier."

"It's alright," O'Connor shrugged. "If it was the other way around, I would've done the same. I'm quite used to this kind of suspicion. At Tarkov, we called it the 'trial phase', where the dealers would test you to see if you were trustworthy. Either way, it's nice to be out from under the microscope now. Now, I wonder what's in this box?"

It turned out to be a rhetorical question, as the box held his weaponry. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal another C-SEC agent dropping off his backpack, with all the paraphernalia that had been inside neatly put back. Slinging his gear onto his back, O'Connor turned to the others and asked, "What now?"

"The Council wanted us to assist in the investigation," Udina answered. "Nihlus has agreed to investigate Saren's corporate and political connections while he convalesces in a medical ward. Shepard, you take O'Connor and meet up with the C-SEC Investigator in charge of the investigation. His name is Garrus Vakarian."

"Where do we meet him?" Shepard asked.

"He asked you to meet him at a clinic in Tayseri Ward, run by one Dr. Chloe Michelle." As they left, Udina pulled Shepard aside and said, "Remember, Shepard. You're under increased scrutiny by the Council. The Beacon was destroyed, but Nihlus survived, which is why they haven't decided to reject you for Spectre candidacy. If you can find prove that Saren truly was guilty, then it will greatly bolster your chances. If not -"

"I understand," Shepard interrupted, "and I won't fail. Saren's a threat to every Human colony out there. If this is the only way to stop him, then so be it." Udina was apparently satisfied, as he allowed Shepard to leave then. With that, the investigation truly began.