Author's Note: So begins the sequel, For a Few Shepards More. Unlike Fistful, this one is going to be much more serious, though hopefully I can still pull enough humorous moments out. I hope everyone will enjoy this much as much as Fistful.
"Shepard, wake up. You have to move. The station is under attack." Angela opened bleary eyes, looking around in utter confusion. She had a brief flit of memory, a dark-haired woman and a shifty-looking man leaning over her, and an arm – her arm – little more than a mess of raw meat. Her mouth was dry, the standard lights sent stabbing pains straight through to the back of her head, and every muscle was so sore she could barely move enough to fall off the table.
To her surprise, she landed on her feet. To her greater surprise, there were two matching set of footfalls. She looked up, squinting.
On the opposite side of the table was Neville, one of her adept counterparts, looking incredibly strange wearing nothing more than a patient gown. At the foot of the bed was Victor, the Russian soldier counterpart. All three of them, upon recognizing each other, quickly scanned the room. "Where's the rest of us, then?" Neville asked, his British accent sounding strangled through his throat.
"I don't know. What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, leaning on the table as she straightened up. To her embarrassment, she was also wearing nothing more than a patient gown, the air conditioner breeze causing goose bumps to rise on her exposed ass cheeks.
"We shouted at the Catalyst to die. When it did, a burst of bright light, and the Citadel exploding around me," Victor said. Neville nodded along.
"Shepard, there's a pistol and armor in the locker in the corner. You need to hurry, there are mechs coming towards your position." They all looked at the intercom in the ceiling.
"No idea who she is," Angela said as she started limping towards the locker, "but so far, her advice is top notch." They followed her as she popped open the locker to reveal the pistol, singular, and armor, also singular. "Alright, now what?"
"Simple. Victor puts on the armor and takes the pistol, and we stand behind him," Neville said. "You take the omni-tool, and I'll use my biotics. At least until we can get better equipped." Angela reluctantly agreed. As much as she wanted the armor – for warmth and covering her bare ass as much as protection from rogue mechs – it looked awfully heavy, and Victor was already seeming to recover better than they were.
"Speaking of your biotics, how are they?" she asked, and he calmly flexed a hand, summoning up a small ball of biotic force.
"Shepard, they're about to blow open the door. Get into cover, and grab that thermal clip for the pistol," the mystery woman said again.
"A thermal clip?" Victor groused as he loaded it. "What next, the new gun upgrade shoots rocks instead of tungsten projectiles?"
The door blew in a moment later, two humanoid robots standing there with pistols of their own. Angela overloaded one, while Victor shot the other one in the optic before calmly stepping up and hitting the off switch on its chest. "Da, good, now we have pistols for everybody. Now we go find the rest of our Shepard Squad?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," she said. "Lead the way, meat shield."
"Now you are becoming true Russian," he teased her as they stepped into the next room and shooting at a trio of mechs.
"How do you figure that?" she asked as she fired off another overload.
"Ancient Russian military successes all focus on one strategy: throw bodies at problem until it goes away," he said, picking up another couple of thermal clips.
"As long as I'm not the body," Neville added, "I'm alright with that. Where's Gina or Ubon? We could use a few more tech-heads right now."
"I don't know, and that worries the hell out of me," Angela said. They continued through several rooms, watching a recording of mystery woman talking about the efforts spent to bring Shepard back from the dead. "One thing bothers me about that," she said, closing the safe she'd just hacked open. "Why is she talking about everything in singular fashion?"
They replayed it, listening closely. "You're right. This woman is running a project to bring back one Shepard, not three. There was only one bed in that room, too."
"Then the rest are not here. Maybe takes more time for them to come back?" Victor mused aloud.
"I don't know, but if we don't stop these mechs, we won't get a chance to find out," Angela said. "Let's keep moving."
They picked up a grenade launcher, Neville carrying it so as to keep Victor's hands free, blew up another dozen or so mechs, and paused outside of another door. "I hear gunfire inside," Neville said. "Survivors, I hope?"
"One way to find out," Victor said, hitting the door and lunging through. Behind a steel balcony railing were three people, firing over the top at mechs on another balcony across a lovely four-story drop.
"Shepard?" all three of them said in unison – eerily familiar unison. "What the hell?"
Angela looked at Neville and Victor. "Something tells me the other Shepards aren't coming." She looked at the three survivors, all wearing nearly identical black and white uniforms. "Alright, who knows me?"
The black man nearest her raised his hand slightly. "I'm Jacob Taylor. I'm part of the security detail here to bring you back. I know those two, they're part of the group of dimensional clones you had when you stopped Saren." The other two were staring at him, wide-eyed.
She pointed at the Hispanic guy behind Jacob. "I'm Miguel Taylor," he said in nearly the same voice. "Neville Shepard vanished while scouring the Terminus Systems for Saren. Without him, the geth succeeded, and the Reapers are harvesting everyone in the galaxy. We managed to recover his body after it reappeared, and were trying to bring him back to life."
Lastly, Angela pointed at the only other woman there, furthest away from her. "Pari Taylor," she said. "Similar to what he said, except Victor vanished attempting to stop the Terra Nova disaster."
"Attempting?" Victor muttered worriedly.
"Ah, Shepard, can you give me a minute? I need to talk to, um, myself," Jacob said.
"Sure, go ahead," Neville said, his face now haunted. "We'll just take out those mechs across the way."
Angela popped up and overloaded one in the doorway, causing it to explode and tip another one over the balcony edge. "Something weird is going on here," she muttered.
"Something weird always going on around you," Victor responded. "This is new?"
"What happens if every single person we come across goes triplicate? Especially if, like they said, your home universes are under Reaper control?" Angela asked guiltily.
"Angela, love, what is or isn't happening to our homes isn't your fault. You didn't bring us here," Neville said reassuringly.
"Alright, Shepards. Since we appear to still be in my universe, I'll lead us out of here," Jacob said finally. "But there's something you should know first."
All three of them promptly crossed their arms, staring down their counterparts. The patient gowns on Angela and Neville made that somehow even more threatening. "We're listening," Angela said grimly.
"All of us work for Cerberus," Jacob said.
"The same Cerberus who decided to try and use Thorian creepers as slave labor?" Neville asked.
"The Cerberus that sent rachni young to multiple planets?" Victor growled.
"The Cerberus who slaughtered a platoon of Kahoku's troops and then murdered him?" Angela ground out.
"Ah, well, kind of," Jacob said, his hands already raised defensively, pistol at his hip. "I don't know what other Cerberus cells have been up to, I swear to you. I used to be Alliance myself. But I quit when they started trying to erase everything you did."
"We'll accompany you to the shuttles," Angela said after a long moment of silence. "But if we don't get some really, really good answers, you won't have to worry about the mechs."
"That's fair," Sari said. "But can I point out, Miguel and I were trying to bring back our Shepard to stop the Reapers?"
"Much as I appreciate it, love, that's not a great comfort right now," Neville said. "Now, we need to get out of here and into some real clothes, hopefully not in that order."
"I thought you were staring at her ass?" Victor said, causing a furious blush to rise across Angela's cheeks – all four of them.
"That's not the kind of thing you're supposed to say, wanker," the adept replied neutrally. "While it is a nice ass, it's also a little uncomfortably like watching myself in a mirror."
Sari looked at the two male Taylors, who both looked somewhat green at the thought. "The shuttles are off this direction," she said. "At least, if his Lazarus station is built the same as mine, they are."
Following the Taylors, they shot down several more mechs, received a transmission from Wilson, noting the dark frowns on all of the Taylors. "Damn weird to hear Wilson as a guy," Miguel muttered.
"Let's get to him, just in case," Angela said.
"What do we do if he splits, too?" Jacob asked.
"Retire to Bekenstein and hide," Victor answered grimly.
They stormed into the server room, and to their relief, there was only one Wilson present. "What the – three Shepards? And who the hell are these two?" he babbled, one hand covering the trickling bloody wound on his leg. The three Shepards drew together off to one side as Miguel got the medi-gel and treated the bullet hole.
"Something is off with this bloke," Neville said quietly.
"That wound, probably self-inflicted," Victor agreed.
"We'll watch him closely as we get out of here," Angela murmured. "Jacob, how much further to the shuttles?"
"Not that much further. But whoever hacked the mechs probably has some waiting for us in the shuttle bay." He carefully checked his pistol before gesturing to the far door. "Through there."
"Oh crap, more mechs!" Wilson cried hysterically, ducking back behind the console he'd been using as shelter when they arrived. Two mechs versus six of them wasn't a hard challenge. "Miranda's got to be a goner by now," Wilson muttered.
"Doesn't matter, we're going to find her," Jacob said.
"Oh, joy," Angela said to herself. Somehow, she just knew that Miranda, aka Mystery Woman, would be another headache for her.
Dossier: Miguel Taylor
Like Jacob, Miguel is a biotic, only his Alliance service was spent as a support Sentinel rather than a front line Vanguard. While they share the same father, Miguel's mother was a dockside waitress who encouraged his enlistment into the Alliance. With the arrival of the Reapers, Miguel's entire ship defaulted to Cerberus after the destruction of Arcturus Station, and ended up on the Lazarus Project when the previous head of security was captured while acquiring supplies on Omega. Like Jacob, he stands 5'10" tall, but tends towards compulsive games like Tetris rather than three-hour long workouts.
Dossier: Sari Taylor
Unlike the other two, Sari is not biotic at all. Her mother was the caretaker for the only Hindu temple on Shanxi, and originally had Sari out of wedlock. She married Mr. Taylor two years after the birth of the child, and had another son, making Sari the only Taylor with siblings. She enlisted in the Alliance, being trained as an infiltrator, and uncovered proof that the Lazarus project had been compromised by the Shadow Broker shortly before her appearance in our universe. She stands 5'8", keeps her hair in a tight braid tucked down the back of her uniform, and usually has her left hand covered in henna designs.