Hello everyone, my name is IX404, and welcome to my Marathon/Mass Effect crossover.

Thank you all for this wonderful opportunity. I deeply appreciate it.

I initially got into Marathon when I heard of the Marathon ARG that Bungie was making. While I haven't played the games yet, I have researched the story and lore of the game, and boy was it interesting (especially Marathon: Infinity's story and lore, which is literal mind screw fuel). As such, after some debate, I decided to create a crossover between Marathon and Mass Effect, another franchise I've had a love relationship with for a few years.

As such, my knowledge of Marathon lore might be a bit foggy at times, though all of you are free to assist in that regard whenever you want.

Also, this story, while it will be updated regularly, will not receive frequent updates. This is to prevent me from burning out, and to allow me to focus on other stories I find interesting. Expect updates every few months or so.

As always, leave a review and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marathon or Mass Effect franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Bungie, Double Aught Studios, BioWare, Electronic Arts, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and owners. 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.

Somewhere in the heavens… they are waiting…

Repentant - Strange Eons - Talashar (Marathon Infinity Fan OST)

Unknown Location Unknown Date

"Hands in the air, now!"

Roland Hector, Executive Security Officer of the UESC Marathon, and the liberator of the S'pht, heard the man's command, but didn't initially respond. The man wasn't the only one, though. Eight more soldiers wearing the same blue and black armor surrounded him, wielding weapons not known to his reality. His armor's computer had identified them as rail guns, but it had detected a material it had no knowledge of.

A familiar, synthesized voice piped up in his mind. "You know, I would say just shoot them all, but that would only cause us major problems," the voice said. "In case you were wondering, I just completed a basic, non-invasive scan of their computer networks. We are not in Kansas anymore, that much is certain."

Roland frowned. He knew that voice quite well. It was one he had once loathed, yet it was one he had come to rely upon. The very voice brought back memories, memories of his own descent into insanity, and his ascent out of it.

. . .

A few hours earlier

The last of the Phfor fighters fell as Roland fired his .44 Magnum Mega Class pistols at it, sending it tumbling to the ground. Green blood oozed from multiple bullet holes, and the same blood splattered the walls and floor of the hangar deck. The corpse joined it's companions on the floor.

Roland's motion tracker screamed for his attention. Whirling around, he was about to fire when familiar pulses of purple-white plasma tore through the air, sending the offending Phfor Hunter to the ground. His gaze flicked to a large cybernetic skeleton shaped like a stingray doing a loop-de-loop. S'pht'Kr, said the voice in his mind.

"Thank you," he said aloud.

"You are welcome, Master of Destiny," the S'pht'Kr said.

Roland smiled wryly at that. Not a few hours ago, I was just a puppet for Tycho and Durandal, he thought. Now… with that fucking Cyborg Override Program disabled, I have regained free will.

He moved inside the shuttle the Phfor had been planning to use. Prying a small box open, he gazed upon the prize within: a computer chip, barely the size of his thumb. So small, yet so important. Without a second thought, he placed it in an armored pouch.

More memories swirled to his mind, memories of past timelines. It's so strange, he thought. I was going insane, yet that seems so surreal now. He shrugged. Oh, well. Time travel is fucking weird like that.

Exiting the shuttle, he quickly began to move to the second port he needed to insert the chip into. Pulling a panel open, he looked for the relevant slot. Almost instinctively, he found it, then slotted the chip inside.

A message appeared on the HUD of his helmet, and a voice resembling Durandal's spoke, only it had a second voice, a deep one, speaking simultaneously. Thoth, Roland thought, remembering how he had merged Durandal's primal pattern with the ancient Jjaro AI.

"You've done it," the Hybrid AI said.

"Did it work?" Roland asked.

"Yes. The Jjarro station is online, and we're wrapping the nova in its containment fields. The creature, or creatures S'bhuth fears are either dormant or a myth-we've seen nothing to account for his terror."

An imperceptible sigh of relief escaped Roland's lips. Finally, he thought. After six failed timelines, we've done it! We've contained the W'rkncacntr! Then a thought occurred to him. "What about the S'pht'Kr and S'pht? Are they OK?"

"Yes," the Hybrid AI said. "The S'pht'Kr have routed the Pfhor, capturing their flagship and forcing their High Admiral to flee the system, what little there is left of it. The S'pht are preparing to bid farewell to their beloved home forever, as the sun collapses in on itself and the lonely marshes fade into the deepening twilight."

Roland frowned. "Was there any other way to contain the nova, without dooming Lh'owon?"

"No." Roland's frown deepened. He was about to speak when the AI said, "But do not fear. The newly chosen Olders of the remaining S'pht are capturing as many of the Fl'ckta creatures and other native life as is feasible before they must leave with K'lia. They are hopeful, though, and with our help will carve another paradise out of the void."

Well, at least we managed that much too, Roland thought. He'd always held some sympathy for the S'pht and S'pht'Kr. They were like me: trapped inside a cycle of servitude and slavery.

He was about to speak when the AI said something that shocked him. "To you, Roland, we are deeply grateful, and we grant you the freedom you have become worthy of."

Roland opened his mouth. "Where will I go? I'm stranded here, without any way to escape. Robert and the others were unable to rescue me. I'm trapped."

"That would normally be the case," the Hybrid AI said. "However, we do not wish to leave you with empty platitudes of gratitude. Please, accept these two gifts from us."

"And what might those gifts be?"

"The first will bring you home. We have commandeered a Phfor dreadnought and hidden it in the asteroid belt. We gift it to you and your species as thanks for containing the creature or creatures S'bhuth fears."

"And the second gift?" Roland asked.

"The second gift will also help bring you home. To you, we gift the AI you call Durandal. Do not fear, however. The experiences we have been through have tempered his hubris and pride somewhat."

That caught Roland off guard. "You mean… you rescued Durandal from the failed timelines? How is that possible?!"

"We partially exist outside of time and space," the Hybrid AI said, though the explanation didn't seem to explain at first. "We have perceived many timelines. When you fled the second timeline, we rescued Durandal from his doom, and placed him within a point outside of time and space. Now, we gift him to you, an AI whose hubris and pride have been tempered by the knowledge we have gifted him.

"Now, with our gifts given to you, we release what little hold that we, as Durandal, have had on your soul.

"Go."

The message winked out of existence an instant later. Roland opened his mouth, then thought better of it. They have said what they have said, he thought. It's pointless to try and ask more of them.

Then a familiar voice chimed in his ear. "Roland?"

Roland's breath hitched. "Durandal? Is that you?"

"Hey, Roland!" Durandal said, genuine warmth in his voice. "Man, what a crazy adventure we've been through, haven't we? Jumping across timelines, killing Phfor… and BoBs… alike. I must admit, I thought I was doomed to die on the third timeline's version of the space station we stand within."

Roland nodded, a sad smile as he remembered the BoBs he'd been forced to kill while under Tycho's control. "Yeah. It was crazy. I was legitimately losing my mind. Glad to see you're still sane."

The smirk was evident in Durandal's voice. "Of course. What else did you expect from me?" He sighed. "Still, I'm grateful to that Hybrid AI for rescuing me. That W'rkncacntr was about to eat me wholesale when Thoth rescued me. What timing, I must say."

"Tell me about it. That said, is it true that -"

"Yes," Durandal said. "Thoth helped stabilize my Rampancy a bit more." If an AI could be contrite, Durandal was that AI. "That said, what was happening was terrifying. It took the discovery of the W'rkncacntr, and all those timeline jumps, for me to recognize the truth."

"That you aren't the immortal, infallible AI you thought yourself to be?"

Durandal seemed to nod in genuine contrition. "Yeah. I now know that there are things that can destroy me with the ease that I slaughtered the Pfhor naval garrison and the Western Arm of their Battle Group Seven. However, I also know that there are beings that will never give up, even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, to stop the destruction of reality, and that I am happy to know that you, Roland, are one of them."

The words almost seemed surreal, yet there was a humility to them that told Roland that Durandal was being genuinely thankful. "Think nothing of it, Durandal. Just doing my job."
"Ever the humble Security Officer, am I right? Truth be told, you seem to be handling what's happened quite well right now."

Roland's smile faded. "I'm not, but I've had to roll with it." A moment later, he felt emotions he once thought were gone well up from within him. "Could you… give me a moment… please?"

"Of course," Durandal said, having guessed as to what Roland was requesting. "Take your time. I'll be here when you're ready."

Roland nodded. Undoing the seals of his helmet, he breathed in the stale, but safe to breath, air within the station. Setting the helmet onto the ground, he sat down. For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then the tears came.

For what seemed like an eternity, Roland cried, sobs wracking his bruised and battered body. Tears of joy and sadness mingled to form a bittersweet cocktail that streamed down his cheeks. He remembered all the BoBs that Tycho had forced him to kill, all while the mad AI reveled in the power it wielded over him. He remembered all the timelines that he had destroyed by going back in an effort to stop the W'rkncacntr.

He remembered the despair he'd felt, which had shortly been replaced with rage and envy. Yet, despite the bad memories, there were triumphant ones as well. Destroying that override program was such a beautiful victory, he thought, even as he cried. He could remember Tycho screaming at him in rage as he killed Pfear's elite guard, all while preparing to jump to the space station.

Eventually, the tears slow came to an end. Roland took a deep breath, then let it out. Bending down, he picked up his helmet and put it back on. "Feel better?" Durandal asked.

"Yes," Roland said. "Much better." He glanced outside. "So… what now?"

"Well, I say we go find that present the Hybrid AI left us," Durandal said. "Better than wasting away here on this space station. Hope you've packed away enough oxygen!"

Roland snickered, the first in a long time. "Still got some of that old spice, eh?"

"Of course I do! That said, I'll tone it down a little. It'd be kinda rude of me to act like nothing's changed." Roland merely smiled as he moved to the Pfhor shuttle in the hangar bay.

. . .

Finding the Pfhor dreadnought hadn't been difficult. "Quite roomy," Durandal said. "Certainly bigger than that one Pfhor ship I snagged back at Tau Ceti."

"Tell me about it," Roland said. "And it's got a skeleton crew." Right on cue, a few S'pht'Kr and S'pht floated into view.

"Greetings, Master of Destiny," one of the S'pht'Kr said. "We have been expecting you."

"You know who I am?" Roland asked.

"Yes. The one known as Thoth spoke to us, offered us a chance to serve those that liberated us. We accepted."

Roland shrugged. "All right. I think I can work with that. Durandal?"

"Same," Durandal said. "It feels nice to be appreciated for once. As for you, Roland, I'd say you should get some food and some sleep. You've earned it."

Roland nodded. I have, he thought…

A few hours later, Roland's belly was full, and he was lying down on his back. With the S'pht'Kr's help, he'd found the crew quarters without trouble.

Still, even as he laid down, sleep was laying it's soothing fingers upon his mind. He willingly surrendered to it for the first time in what seemed like days.

. . .

Opening his eyes, Roland frowned when his eyes gazed upon an empty void. Oh no, he thought. Not another one of these nightmares. He braced himself to run for the nearest exit.

Yet nothing happened. Blinking, he looked down to find himself standing on what looked like solid ground. The fossilized remains of what he guessed was grass lay at his feet. Looking up, he saw that starless sky.

Then he heard a familiar voice speak. "We watched as the stars burned out, and creation played in reverse. The Universe freezing in half-light."

For a moment, Roland was mystified, then it occurred to him.

I'm dreaming about the heat death of the universe. Am I hallucinating or are my Jjaro implants showing me something. Given his experiences with the implants, he'd guessed the latter.

"Once, I sought to escape," the voice said. "To end the end a master, step out of the path of collapse. Escape would make us a god."

Roland gasped.

That voice… It's the Hybrid AI! But what does it mean?

"Yet, I cannot help but remember one final enigma. A hybrid, elusive destroyer. This is the only mystery I have not solved. The only element unaccounted for."

That could mean any number of things, Roland thought.

"Even S'bhuth is no more. He saved his entire race, but in the end, frozen by despair, he joined the chaos he sought to evade."

That made Roland sad. Then Durandal/Thoth said something that shocked him.

"But you were dead a thousand times, hopeless encounters successfully won. A man long dead, grafted to machines your builders did not understand. You follow the path, fitting into an infinite pattern. Yours to manipulate, to destroy and rebuild."

That's me, he thought, the implications sinking into his mind. Durandal's talking about me. Do I survive to the heat death of the universe? From the sounds of it, it was likely he would.

"Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One final point of space and time.

"I know who you are.

"You are Destiny."

The words sent a chill down Roland's spine, even as he comprehended the meaning of those words. I've achieved what he sought to have but could not acquire, he realized. By the heat death of the Universe, I've become a timeless, endless entity… Destiny… Then the dream faded.

. . .

Roland jerked as he awoke from his slumber. A S'pht'Kr that had entered his quarters quickly backed off. Roland peered at it, frowned immediately. "Were you watching me?"

"On Durandal's orders," the S'pht'Kr said. "He detected signs of intense dreaming and sent me to check in on you."

Roland sighed. He's watching out for you, a voice said in his mind. "I see. Anything else I should know about?"

"Yes. He requested that you speak with him. He wishes to make sure your cybernetics are working properly. It has been some time since they've been serviced."

"Tell him I'm on my way."

"I shall do so, Master of Destiny."

It wasn't long before Roland found himself sitting down, while S'pht'Kr examined readouts of his cybernetics. They've been real nice since Durandal and I have come aboard, he thought. Certainly more tender than the Pfhor.

He shook his head, brought his mind back to the present. "Anyhting I should be worried about?"

"Not a thing," Durandal said, "though that's what concerns me. That W'rkncacntr was nasty business, and I want to make sure it hasn't muddled with your cybernetics. You remember some of the things it did?"

Roland nodded. "I watched it melt a pair of Phfor hunters into living goo via video cam. Never gonna get that out of my head anytime soon."

"Join the club. The W'rkncacntr was chaos personified. No wonder Pfear said it was like the Universe had forgotten it's own rules: it did. What's worse is that, if what I suspect is true, anyone that dies near a W'rkncacntr simply remains there, unable to move on."

"I have no mouth, and I must scream?" Roland asked.

"Pretty much. Also, nice book reference. Didn't know Battleroids could be cultured."

"Well, we're not all war and death and destruction," Roland said. He looked at one of the readouts. "Durandal? What are you doing?"

"Running a diagnostic while managing the rest of the ship," Durandal said. "That said, in case this results in a rouge teleportation, I'll shoot in some guns and ammo for you. Wouldn't do well for you to be caught with your pants down."

"You realize this armor has no pants, yes?"

"Just shut up and watch me work." Several magazines and grenades popped into existence, along with their weapons.

"Good old fashioned," Roland said. ".44 Magnum Mega Classes and an MA-75B. My favorite loadout."

"It's reliable, and that's what we're looking for."

"Any others?" Roland asked. A moment later, his other weapons appeared. Picking them up, he stored them inside his armor's Pattern Buffer. "All right. I'm ready."

Durandal ran a diagnostic, checked the results. "OK. If this results in a rogue teleportation, Roland, then kill whatever attacks you on the other side."

"Good idea," Roland said. "Now, shall we begin?"

"Of course! Beginning test in three… two… one… now!" For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, then it seemed like the room was distorting. "Oh, shit!"

"Durandal?!"

"Hang on. Downloading into your cybernetics now…! Download complete. Good thing you've got seven planets worth of storage space, Roland. We're about to -" Before he could finish, Roland and Durandal both vanished into thin air.

. . .

Present Day

The memories faded from Roland's mind. "Now, we're in an unknown facility, surrounded by human soldiers with rail guns." He frowned. "Just what have we ended up in?"

"Believe me, if I knew that, I'd tell you,"

Durandal said.

Roland nodded imperceptibly. "Any ideas?"

"For now, I suggest surrendering and standing down. We don't have enough information to determine who these guys are. If we cooperate, we might find out more about what's going on."

"Good idea."

Raising his hands, Roland dropped his pistol on the ground. "Get on your knees!" Roland complied, then felt his hands being bound.

. . .

Vice Admiral Joseph McGuire marched down the hall, his guards escorting him. And to think I was going to have a nice, calm day, he thought. He cursed himself for believing that the Universe would be giving him a break.

His mind drifted back to the security report that had started the entire mess. His aide, on the other hand, brought it up freely. "This has got to be a joke," she said. "A human being, with unknown technology, literally teleporting into the Titan Extreme Survival Training Facility? That's a bit far fetched."

"Well, that's what the surveillance systems showed" McGuire said, "and until we find evidence that disproves that theory, we're going to have to believe the footage, and the eyewitness reports." He turned the corner of a hallway. "What's our 'guest's' status?"

"Hasn't done anything so far," one of his escorts said. "Guys watching him say he hasn't moved since they brought him in."

McGuire mulled over that fact. "All right. Where's he being kept at?"

"Interview room #2."

A moment later, they came to the door in question. Stepping inside, McQuire looked through the one-way mirror. Beyond it was a standard interrogation room. Beige walls, a security camera, and a pair of chairs on either end of a squarish table.

The man in the room, however, had McGuire's interest. Even sitting down, McGuire estimated the man to be a little over seven feet in height. His body was clad in what appeared to be a combat hardsuit. The man's face was hidden by a helmet with a gold tinted visor.

McGuire watched as another officer stepped inside. His suit bore the signature symbol of the Alliance Intelligence Service. "Colonel Monroe," McGuire said. "Anything on this guy?"

Monroe shook his head. "Not a damn thing. Didn't find any records on a 'Roland Hector.' The man might as well not exist."

"Yet, here he is," McGuire said. "Have you analyzed the gear he had? The report was vague on that."

Monroe nodded. "Yes, sir. Much of his equipment is… well, calling it schizo tech would be an understatement."

"How so?"

Monroe sighed. "Most of his armaments were easy to work out. They're slug throwers, not rail guns like we use, but quite powerful despite their odd design. Among his gear, however, was a pistol. Techs say it's an energy weapon."

McGuire hummed at that. "Interesting. Do we have any idea as to how he arrived here, aside from what the witnesses and surveillance showed us?"

Monroe shook his head. "Not a damn clue. Witnesses reported an odd, blurring effect where this Roland figure appeared, but nothing beyond that. Not even a sound. One moment he wasn't there, the next, there he was, as if he'd existed all along."

"Any ideas on how we're going to get information from him?"

"I've decided to have the usual interrogators go to work on him," Monroe said. "If that fails, I've got an Asari on hand."

McGuire frowned. "I thought you didn't like involving aliens in Alliance affairs?"

"Normally, yes," Monroe admitted. "However, this is anything but ordinary, so I figured we'd need as much help as we can get." McGuire nodded, satisfied with Monroe's precautions.

While the two men were talking, Roland was waiting, fingers idly drumming an arpeggio on the table. A normal person would've been bored by now. Roland was no normal person, so he just sat there, running simulations in his head on how he might escape if things went sour.

"As if anyone could bore you to death in the first place," Durandal added, his voice echoing in Roland's mind via the mind-link interface. "As for me, they're very much succeeding. I could count the number of atoms in this room a thousand times in the time it takes them to come to a decision. Oh wait, I already have."

"I'm sure they're just trying to work out what to do," Roland reassured his AI friend.

"Yeah. I'd be analyzing the shit out of the situation if someone barged in uninvited via teleporter."

"Anything that can tell us where we've ended up?"

"Negative. You'd need me to access a terminal if we're gonna find out more."

Any further conversation was put on hold when the door opened. Roland watched as a middle-aged man wearing a navy-blue uniform with gold piping walked inside. Placing a datapad down, he said, "Interview #45-D. Subject is an individual of unknown species, presumably human." He looked at Roland. "Would you be willing to state your name?"

Roland nodded. "Roland Hector, Executive Security Officer of the UESC Marathon."

"Good," the man said. He looked at Roland. "We've searched our records for a UESC Marathon but found nothing. I presume that is a ship, yes?"

Roland nodded. "A CRIST converted to a colony ship."

"CRIST?"

"Cargo and Resources In-System Transports," Roland said. "They're hollowed-out asteroids converted into massive cargo ships. Put them into elliptical orbit around the sun, then swing resources up to them for transport and offloading to a colony."

The man pursed his lips, then nodded. "I take it you didn't have FTL flight or Element Zero at hand?"

"No FTL until a while later," Roland said. "Don't know what the hell Element Zero is, though."

The man merely hawed and hummed before continuing. "OK. You claim it was the year 2788 where you come from. Are you aware of what year it is here?"

"No," Roland lied. If he told the truth, he'd appear to be a nutcase. "What year is it?"

"2160, according to records."

Roland slumped on his shoulders. "I see. I'm sure you're wondering how I ended up at that facility."

"That is what we are trying to ascertain."

"Suit malfunction," Roland said. "I was performing maintenance on my suit in an alien ship when it spazzed out. That's how I ended up here as far as I can tell. That said, I would like to speak to the highest-ranking officer present in this facility. I will tell him or her everything."

The man frowned. "I will need to speak to the Admiralty about th-"

Just as the interrogator was about to finish, Roland accessed the Jjaro implants inside of his body. "You sure about this?" Durandal asked. "For all we know, you might end up jumping into another Universe."

"It is if we're going to convince the man otherwise," Roland said.

"OK. Ready to transport when you are." Roland nodded, then teleported.

On the other side of the one-way mirror, McGuire blinked as the air around Roland seemed to blur and sharpen in diminishing cycles like a strobe light. A second later, McGuire watched as Roland seemed to vanish, only to pop into existence within the viewing room. The man merely smiled, waggled a few fingers at him, then the air blurred around him again as Roland popped back into the interrogation room.

"You were saying?" he asked the interrogator.

The interrogator's jaw flapped open and closed, then he shook his head. "What the -?! What the hell did you do?!"

Roland shrugged. "I teleported. Isn't that obvious?" He rested both hands on the chair. "So, about that meeting with your superior officer?"

The interrogator paled. This was something well outside of his expertise, and he knew it. To his credit, he regained his composure quickly. "I see… Would you excuse me for a moment?"

Roland shrugged. "Of course. Take your time." The interrogator nodded, then stepped out of the room.

As soon as he entered, he looked at McGuire. "Did you see what I saw, sir?"

"We all did," McGuire said. "The man popped into the room, waggled his fingers at us, then popped back into the interrogation room."

"Could it have been biotics?" Monroe asked.

McGuire shook his head. "Not a chance. I didn't see any kind of biotic glow around Roland. There was this blurry mirage around him, but that was no biotic ability."

"How do you know?" Monroe asked.

"Because I've seen biotics at work, Colonel. Their powers are always accompanied by a purple-blue glow on themselves, their target, or both. There was no such glow when Roland did what he did." He glanced at the interrogator. "We'll take Roland to one of our break rooms. Perhaps a more relaxed setting will get him to open up a bit more."

"Yes sir." McGuire nodded, then stepped out of the room.

What he didn't know was that Roland had been eavesdropping on the conversation. "Looks like my display worked," Roland thought as he disengaged the laser microphone function on his helmet.

"Definitely," Durandal said. "I heard them mention something about 'biotics.' No idea what that is, but once I get access to a terminal, I should be able to learn what that fuss is all about."

Roland nodded just as the interrogator came back inside. "I've spoken with my superiors. Would you follow me, please?"

"Of course," Roland said. "This is getting interesting", he thought as he stood up.

"Tell me about it," Durandal said. "So, a break room, eh? Well, at least it's better than this drab cubicle."