Alternate Alternate

"What are our odds?" Ivan did not look away from the controls. He couldn't afford to. Half of the displays were dimmed or shut off, their associated systems shut down. Several others lingered in or near the red. Except for the fuel of course, that was nearing empty.

Slav was silent for a moment, mulling over the alternate realities and their eventualities, "That depends on whether we are in a reality where we arrive before the Alteans."

Ivan drew in a breath. Slav was being evasive, that rarely boded well. That meant long odds against them, and odds were stacked against them to begin with. "If we aren't?"

Slav didn't miss a beat, "Then there are very few realities where we succeed."

Ivan nodded. The lack of a follow up gave him all the confirmation he needed as to their 'status' even in the successful mission. "And if we are?"

Slav reached over and made a small adjustment to his console, "Then there are still very few realities where we succeed."

Naturally.

Ivan flicked one of the engine intake monitors when it dimmed, thankfully bringing it back to where it had been. The very last thing they needed was to stop and repair their vessel en route, assuming they even could. "I'm picking up the Altean vessel." He waited with baited breath as the scanner checked the vessel. The smallest of smirks came over his lips, "It's alone."

"For now." Slav offered.

Ivan adjusted the satchel on his shoulder, "That one is placed." He glanced up to see Slav's wrist begin to glow. That did not bode well. "Who is it?" He asked as Slav brought up the feed from their ship. His eyes widened at the design of the craft, it was shaped almost like a person? "Maybe I should be asking what that is instead…" Slav was still silent, analyzing the image in front of him, which only set Ivan further on edge.

Slav ignored him for a moment longer, eyes scanning every pixel of the image before shutting it down. "I do not know."

Ivan blinked, "What?"

"I said I do not know." Slav's cast a quick glance at him betraying his irritation, but his voice remained steady, "I've never seen anything like this. It's not something I've considered possible."

That sent a chill running down Ivan's spine. Slav could conceive of so many different realities that it bordered on the impossible. For him not to expect something… it might not be unprecedented, but Ivan hadn't experienced it.

"We are changing the mission." Slav said bluntly, turning before Ivan could even react. He was about to voice his protest when Slav raised a hand preemptively, "We aren't going to stop, we still cannot let the Alteans get this comet, but we need to see who is manning that vessel. It is... important."

Ivan frowned, "What about the bombs? They aren't armed yet, we could put them on a proximity trigger."

Slav weighed realities beyond counting in a matter of seconds, "Leave them. They never would have been able to destroy the comet in any reality; our best hope was to position the explosives in a manner as to push the comet into the space fissure. Removing them will leave us in a disadvantageous position in seventy three point eight nine of realities, setting them on proximity trigger leads to complete disaster in forty two point zero one and in a disadvantageous position in an additional thirty three point six six."

Slav glanced over his shoulder, "Keep them on the remote trigger." Ivan nodded, moving the trigger to his left side when Slav bristled, "Not that pocket!" Ivan tensed for a second, and then sighed, placing it on his right as he followed the alien to their most likely intercept point.

"Hello?" The word echoed through the vessel, disturbing the stillness of the dead ship. "Is anyone here?" Ivan frowned; there was a certain refinement to the voice, the intonation, the accent. That didn't bode well.

"They're in armor." Ivan spoke sotto voce into his communicator, "It's Altean, And that voice…" He trailed off, studying the figures as they floated through the hall. "They look unarmed." At least it would make them easier pickings when the fight came. One of them flashed a light at the duct he was looking through and he hastily ducked down, "Slav?"

The alien was furiously making calculations on his wrist computer. "We follow them. There is a ninety eight point zero three four chance they are heading to the bridge."

"If they're here that means their ship doesn't have its full compliment. We should try to sneak in and either disable it or capture it."

"Negative." Slav cut him off sharply, "Follow them. We will find out our probabilities there."

"If we can figure out how to pilot-"

"I said no." Slav said, ending the debate, "There is more going on here than what we are seeing."

Ivan glowering behind his helmet, then quietly resigned himself to the order. "Fine. The bridge, lead the way."

"Brace yourself." Ivan hissed as he braced himself, gravity reasserting itself seconds later.

"Thanks for the warning." He groused, but Slav paid him no heed, seamlessly and silently advancing on all ten limbs. Ivan inched after him, expecting to make a noise at any second and give them away.

A panicked yelp and indistinct words echoed into the air vent. Slav turned back and looked at Ivan, "We will go through the next juncture. Hurry."

Ivan saved some truly vile epithets as he crawled as quietly as he could after his partner, "What are we doing when we get there?"

"I see an eighty three point nine chance that we will be able to catch them off guard." Slav stopped in front of a panel in the floor, "When I hack the release we will dive through and confront them. I will question them, but keep your gun ready in case this is one of the forty two percent of realities where they are aggressive." Ivan finally reached him and let out a breath, scarcely believing he'd been able to get there without revealing themselves. There were more muffled voices, no, a single voice now. He swore he could detect the refined tones of Altean as Slav went to work on the controls. There was a shout and an explosion, and then Slav tensed as the control mechanism flashed red.

Ivan flinched. He sensed that they had just missed their opportunity to get the drop on whoever was down there, but Slav started again. He could hear them talking, but the conversation had died down. "Slav, what are you doing? They aren't going to be distracted-"At that moment the release turned green and the plate fell free from the ceiling. Ivan hissed, and dove after Slav.

He had barely landed when the explorers began to react. One of them was shouting a warning and running forward, a gun forming in his hand from thin air. Ivan didn't even get a chance to recover from the astonishment of that before the blue clad figure began firing at them. Slav danced, jumping over the ill placed shots that hit the floor in front of him and Ivan managed to grimace at the shooter's lack of discipline. When he recovered that gun he'd find good use for it.

A second later Slav was tackled, the figure in mustard yellow having launched himself at the alien with his jetpack. Ivan tensed, turning to target the figure in blue when the front half of the barrel slid off, a sword held by the figure in red cleaving through it before he could get his shot off. How could it possibly- his question was cut short as the figure in red drove his elbow into Ivan's face mask, cracking it, then following it up with a slice across Ivan's chest. Ivan stumbled back a step, caught himself and used the momentum, pivoting and kicking the figure in red in the back shoulder, sending him sprawling.

He had a second to breathe before another pair of ill aimed shots hit the floor well ahead of him. Ivan glowered, hurling his ruined rifle at the amateur shot with the fancy gun. It caught the figure in blue straight in the faceplate, snapping his head back and throwing off his advance. 'Now!' Ivan charged, lunging into the air, his laser blade forming, lining the blade up to piece the figure through the heart before he could recover.

He was descending when he heard the click and caught the sight of something green coming at him from the corner of his eye. His reaction betrayed him, he turned, catching sight of the green arrow just before it slammed into his faceplate, ripping off a chunk of it and ruining his trajectory. He spun in air, and managed, somehow, to recover his balance, his blade biting into the floor as he skidded to a halt. He took a breath, steadying himself, trying to prepare himself from the next onslaught when his helmet shattered and fell away entirely.

For an instant the battle stopped. Slav took advantage, slamming his tail into the yellow clad figure and then cartwheeling back to Ivan's side. The man landed with a thud and joined the others staring him, all of them seemingly surprised to see him, but the figure in green… Ivan blinked, eyes widening as he took in their features. No… no there was no way… it… it wasn't possible. The figure took a tentative step towards him, their weapon slipping from their hand and clattering against the deck plate. Almost uncertainly they raised a hand, as if to reach out and touch him from across the room.

"Matt?"

Author's Notes: So, some general ground rules for my OC: He will never, *ever* pilot one of the lions. Period. He will also *not* defeat Zarkon or Haggar. Period. He will *not* romance Allura (or Pidge for that matter *shudder*). I have no intentions for pairings, involving him or the cannon crew, though if it comes to me while writing I'll throw it in and adjust the tags.

I will state now that he IS talented, there is a reason he is a Gun of Gamara. He is (currently) a better shot than Lance and Hunk (the latter not really a fair comparison because they use different skill sets).

I will be exploring, or at least extrapolating, the similarities and differences between the Alteans from both universes, based on my own observances and theories.