Author's Note: Welcome, bronies! Also welcome to non-bronies, but apparently a couple hundred people read Wanderer D's FIM blog and came this way. I hope you're enjoying it so far. We're up to seven Shepards now, with more to come. I actually had to make a freaking Excel sheet to keep track of everyone by name/class/background/karma. This is the first fic I've ever had to do that for. You can hate me for that, as long as you leave me good reviews!


The med bay was, for the first (and hopefully last, Chakwas prayed) time, completely packed. Every table was full, and the fifth probably-Shepard was still laid out on a stretcher on the floor. "Doctor? What's the prognosis?" Anderson asked, stopping in the doorway.

She brushed a dangling bit of hair irritably out of her face. "This would be easier if I had medical records on any of the other four," she complained. "Still … as far as I can tell, they should all be fine soon. The Prothean artifact did something to their brains, and all of them are essentially in a sort of hyper-REM sleep." She glanced over her shoulder. "How much longer before we arrive at the Citadel?"

He grunted. "Joker's taking it slowly as we can without arousing suspicion. I've spent the last two hours talking with Admiral Hackett." He stopped as the largest Shepard, the mystery blond man, groaned. "I'd hope for answers, but I just don't see that happening." Angela, his Shepard, was stirring as well. "Do you mind if I try something?" he asked quietly.

"What did you have in mind?" Chakwas asked, getting a devilish grin in response. "I ought to retire. Start up a clinic somewhere nice and quiet, like Omega."

He just grinned broader, then wiped the smile off his face as he took in a deep breath. "On your feet, Commander!" he barked out, and in near unison, all six of them (Wait a minute, six? There were five just a second ago! he thought desperately) popped to their feet in perfectly swaying disoriented unison.

"Where did she … you know, captain, I think I'm going to take my emergency stash of ice brandy and retire to the back room." With incredible gravitas, she stalked through the room, pausing only to get a bottle from a cupboard, and then the door sealed behind her.

"Would someone mind explaining who all these … other people are, and why they're in the Normandy's med bay?" the blond man asked.

"I could say the same," the Hispanic replied.

"I have to explain all of this, don't I," Angela said, getting nods from Anderson and the other three Shepards she'd already met. Huffing out a sigh, she activated her omni-tool, and stenciled an "A" across one shoulder. "You guys want one?"

"Certainly," Bradley and Charles said together. "I've got it," Dierdre responded, burning her own "D".

"So. I'm guessing one of you has a first name that starts with 'E', the other with 'F'. Right?" Angela asked, standing in front of the two newcomers. "Angela. Bradley. Charles. D … what is your name, anyway?"

"Dierdre. It's gaelic or some shit like that. No, I doubt sound very fucking gaelic. Get over it." She leaned back against the bed, sizing up the latina beauty.

"I'm Eric," the brawny man said. "Vanguard, L4 implants."

"Not fair," Bradley groused quietly. "I only got L3."

"Flora, not Florimel." She glared out through a loose fringe of black bangs. "I'm serious."

Angela sighed. "Right. The short version, as far as I know, is that something is causing different versions of Shepard – that is, me – are popping into my universe." She frowned, pointing one hand each at the two newcomers. "When did you get here, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Eric rumbled. "Last thing I remember was throwing Chief Williams away from the beacon."

"Then it exploded, just like a batarian's head," Flora said, twisting a fist in front of her face dramatically.

"As fascinating as this is," Anderson interrupted grimly, "I need to know what happened down there on the surface. What happened to Nihlus? And the Prothean beacon, aside from 'it exploded'?"

In eerie and unintentional unison, all six of them spoke together, the cadence and tempo a flawless match, but the emotions clearly different. "There was another turian present, named Saren. He shot Nihlus in the back, and was clearly working with the geth." All six Shepard's blinked and exchanged nervous glances.

"I hereby assign Angela as spokesman for the group of you," Anderson uttered quickly, before any more creepy pod-people speaking could go on.

She glanced over her shoulder, and nodded. "If anyone had a different experience, then speak up. We landed, proceeding on foot towards the dig site. We spotted Chief Williams fleeing from several robotic drones. Jenkins rushed forward to support her, and was killed by combined firepower." She glanced over at Charles. "Charles helped us destroy the drones, the first spot he appeared. We continued forward, speaking to a few survivors from the dig site and the worker who saw Nihlus' murder.

"We took the tram over to the spaceport, finding Dierdre disarming the bombs placed by the geth. After disarming the rest of the explosives, we secured the beacon. It activated, attempting to do something to Chief Williams, and all four of us freed her from it, and then," she shrugged.

"Really bad dreams," Bradley muttered.

"The worst I've had since Mindoir," Charles said.

"Worse than being homeless in Berlin," Eric said.

Before he could speak up to stop it, Anderson was treated to another tour of unison creepy talk, only this one moved from person to person, mid-sentence without a break in the flow. "Synthetics, capturing and killing organics. Mutated versions of ourself, hunting us, tearing us apart. Planets burning in the night."

"As, ah, creepy as you find this, sir," Angela said, "I think we have it worse."

"We're the ones saying it," Flora continued.

"Captain," Joker's voice broke in from the ceiling speaker, "we'll be docking at the Citadel in fifteen minutes. Ambassador Udina has already 'requested' your presence, and that of Commander Shepard. He didn't specify which one."

Anderson looked at Angela, then at the rest of the room, and promptly broke out in a manic grin. "Far be it for me to disappoint our illustrious ambassador! You heard the man, Commanders. Report to the embassy with me, and round up Williams and Alenko." Whistling, he strolled out of the med bay, a jaunty swing in his step.

"Anderson is whistling," Dierdre said. "He never whistles."

"He's usually pissy because I ripped some dumb enlisted schmuck a new one for not showing respect," Flora added.

Eric turned to Angela. "I'm going to guess your Anderson never had to bail you out with C-Sec after taking down six turians in a bar brawl." She gave him a sardonic look and a raised eyebrow. "I'll take that as a no," he sighed.

"I suppose we should all at least slightly clean up," Charles said. "After all, we'd all hate to leave a poor impression on that pompous windbag."

"Agreed," five other voices said in unison, and they departed the medbay. From the back from, barely audible, Chakwas could be heard singing maudlin songs and talking to the bottle.


Udina stopped dead at the door to his own office, jaw hanging open. "Anderson, what the devil is this? I asked you to bring Commander Shepard, not half your damn crew!"

"I am Commander Shepard," came seven voices.

"Oh shit, it's another one," Williams squeaked, instantly using Alenko as a human shield.

Udina stared in blank-faced confusion. "I don't … what is the meaning of this?" his usual bluster going down like the Titanic.

Angela stepped forward as Dierdre calmly engraved a 'G' on whoever the new girl was. "Right before we went down to the surface, another Commander Shepard appeared on board. Then two more appeared, one after the other, on Eden Prime."

"Three, Commander," Kaidan interrupted. "The big Viking-looking guy appeared when the artifact exploded."

She glanced at him, shrugged, and turned back to Udina. "Another one appeared in med bay when we woke up. And, apparently, one more just now." She looked at the new girl. "I'm Angela. You are?"

"Gina. Short for Genevieve." She gave a small wave.

"So. Shall we go see the Council now?" Angela asked sweetly.

Her only answer was Udina dropping to the floor in a faint. "I, ah, hope we can postpone?" she said rhetorically.


Author's Footnote: More Sheps' next chapter. H is already decided, but I haven't done anyone until M, so I'll have to work those up. Tune in, um, probably next week, and in the meantime, please check out my other fics like Lone Survivor, Mass Murderer, Reloaded, and Torment Effect.