Chapter Text
Lotor sat back in a desk chair, fidgeting with the end of his long braid as he stared almost uncomprehendingly at the dozens of reports on the table and walls in front of and around him. He had encountered some strange things over the last 10,000 years of fighting back against the Altean Empire, but if all of the reports his agents were sending in were real – and why wouldn’t they be? His agents in the Guns of Gamara never lied to him – then this took the cake as the single weirdest thing that had ever happened, even weirder than hearing from his agents Sven and Slav that a “good” Allura came in from an alternate reality and challenged General Hira before disappearing back into her own reality again.
Alternate realities… that might be the only way to account for the bizarre reports Lotor was seeing. Reports ranged from “Lotor is here?” to “Lotor imposter” to “Imperial Lotor??” Perhaps there could be some sort of imposter posing as Lotor, but other reports mentioned a bizarre and powerful robot ship. One report, the most useful yet, said:
“A large robot came through a golden hole in space. It landed in our ship hangar, and someone I can only describe as Lotor stepped out, eyes glowing white, presumably from an overload of Quintessence. He said that he came in peace. When he was told to lay down his weapons and surrender to the Altean Empire, he laughed and asked to be taken to our leader, and he expressed interest when he was told that our ruler is Empress Allura. He said that the Allura he knows would never have the spine to be Empress and that this Allura must be a ‘rare jewel’. He called his ship ‘Sincline’ and asked that we would take care of it, then allowed himself to be led to a holding cell.”
Lotor had already read the report several times, yet he kept coming back to it. He needed to know more, but, of course, the report yielded no further answers no matter how many times Lotor read it. He would just have to wait for a more informative report to come in, he supposed. Or, more specifically, he would have to wait for Romelle’s report. Romelle worked deeply undercover as one of the Empress’ handmaidens, so she was in an ideal position to get information from all around the Empire. She was sweet and non-threatening in appearance, tenacious and determined at her core, and intensely curious all around, making her a nearly ideal agent.
The door to the central command office opened, and Lotor glanced back to see his second-in-command, Kolivan, approaching with a stern look on his face. “You’ve been obsessing over those reports for vargas. You need rest,” he stated factually, leaving no room for argument.
Shaking his head, Lotor picked up a hologram of a random report off the table. It was one he’d already read, but he tried to look like he was reading it. “I’ll be alright. I just need to wait until Romelle’s report comes in.”
Kolivan crossed the room in just a few easy strides and waved his hand through the hologram to dismiss it. “Take a break. I can alert you when the report comes.”
Lotor hesitated, but he then nodded. Kolivan had a point. Sitting here wasn’t going to make the reports come in any faster, and he needed to clear his head.
~*~*~*~
Sitting in the mess hall was helping to ease Lotor’s mind, even though he wasn’t making much progress on his meal. Next to him on his left sat Acxa, who had been a sort of apprentice to Lotor for the last thousand years or so. Her three girlfriends, Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti, sat next to and across from her. More often than not when Lotor went out on missions, he took these four, since he had trained them himself to be a quick and lethal team.
A couple chairs over to Lotor’s right, Kolivan’s pack members sat together, including Kolivan’s mate Antok, their boyfriends Thace and Ulaz (who were each other’s mate), and Keith, who was the son of their fifth pack member and girlfriend Krolia. Next to Keith sat Regris, who wasn’t actually part of the pack (yet) but was Keith’s boyfriend. Although Lotor didn’t personally spend a lot of time with Kolivan’s pack, he was on friendly terms with all of them.
At another nearby table sat Sendak, Lotor’s third-in-command, and the leader of the heavy forces department. While Kolivan specialized in stealth and speed, Sendak excelled in strength and force, and he was in charge of maintaining defenses around all of the bases of the Guns of Gamara. Next to Sendak sat his mate, Haxus, whom Lotor had never exactly gotten along with, but Lotor was happy for them all the same. He at least preferred Haxus’ company to that of Throk, who was friends with Haxus and who seemed to take great pleasure in annoying Lotor with the most inane and pointless questions. Still, they were all good soldiers who fought for freedom, so at the end of the day, personal annoyances didn’t matter.
Another table nearby was filled with rebel Alteans, many of which had been recruited from the empire, rather than being born into the rebellion. While all of the Galra, for obvious reasons, were either rebel survivors of the war or were descendants who had grown up on rebel bases, the Altean rebels were a mix of recruited rebels and rebellion-raised fighters. Lotor was sometimes suspicious of Alteans seeking to join the rebellion – and for good reason, since Romelle’s own parents had posed as rebels while secretly working for the empire for a couple of years until Romelle herself told Lotor the truth – but most Altean rebels were goodhearted people who disagreed with their empire and Empress, and Lotor was glad to have them.
Glancing around, Lotor could see many other rebels, and though he did not know all of them very well, he could recall the names of most. He saw Sven and Slav, and, nearby, a few half-humans who often hung around Sven (and Lotor had seen Keith with them sometimes too, probably because he was also half human). Matt and Pidge were the half-Olkari children of the human scientist Sam Holt, who, along with Sven, was among the first humans to make contact with the rebellion (and it was lucky they found the rebellion first; the Altean Empire still thought that Earth was a backwater and worthless planet that lacked spacefaring technology). Next to Pidge sat Hunk, a half-Balmeran, and next to him sat Shay, a full-Balmeran who seemed to be part of Hunk’s… clan? Lotor wasn’t entirely sure how Balmeran society worked, but Hunk and Shay were close, at least. There was another half-human who usually hung around that group, wasn’t there? Lotor couldn’t remember who was missing at the moment.
Just as Lotor was looking back at his food, trying to convince himself to eat more despite his lack of appetite, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see a rebel trying to get his attention. It only took Lotor a moment to recognize him as Lance, the half-Altean who had been missing from Sven’s group. Lance looked anxious, and he spoke quickly as he said, “Sir? Kolivan wants you to come to the central command room immediately. He says it’s Romelle.”
“Thank you,” Lotor said as he stood up, leaving his food behind. He barely held himself back from running as he hurried back to central command. What had Romelle said? Hopefully, her report would clarify the whole situation.
But as Lotor entered the room, he noticed a hologram hovering in front of Kolivan containing not a report, but a live video feed of Romelle’s face. “Gods of Daibazaal,” Lotor cursed. “Romelle, why are you risking a live communication line?”
Romelle smiled tightly, looking at Lotor through the holo-communicator. “Sorry Sir, but I need to talk to you about this directly. We have much to discuss.”
~*~*~*~
Lotor looked at himself in the mirror, then at the picture one of his agents had managed to take of the other Lotor, whom the rebels had been referring to for the last few days as Alt Lotor. (Depending on whom you asked, “Alt” was short for either “alternate” or “Altean-aligned.”) Alt Lotor apparently liked to wear his hair down, which was a luxury Lotor had not had in so long that even having his hair down to brush it felt weird. Still, Lotor took out his braid, loosely finger-combing the strands of hair to make them all lie straight. He also unclipped the hair clip he always wore, allowing that one annoying bit of hair to pop up and hang over his face. He hated that, no matter what he did, that bit of hair hung right in his field of view, so he always, always used a hairclip to hold it out of the way, but apparently Alt Lotor liked leaving that annoying strand in place, so Lotor would have to put up with it for a while. He brushed back his hair, getting rid of the part it normally had while he wore it in a low braid and instead getting all of his hair to lie back so it would match Alt Lotor’s hairstyle.
Next, Lotor dressed in the armor of the Altean Empire. According to Romelle’s continued reports, Alt Lotor had quickly taken to wearing the empire’s armor instead of the armor he had worn when he arrived, which made putting together this disguise much easier. The only deviation from the standard uniform was a half-skirt in the back, which the rebels were thankfully able to replicate, so Lotor’s outfit would look convincingly like Alt Lotor’s as long as no one looked too closely at where the skirt attached to the rest of the armor.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Lotor felt a strange, almost dysphoric feeling wash over him. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t supposed to be wearing the enemy’s armor, and even the change in hairstyle felt wrong. But, looking at the photograph of Alt Lotor and comparing it with his reflection, Lotor knew that no one would be able to tell the difference, which was the point. This would only be temporary, he reminded himself. He could do this.
It had already been nearly a week since Alt Lotor had first come into this reality. Since then, Romelle and other agents in close enough proximity to the Empress to get reliable information on the situation had continued to report to Lotor and the Guns of Gamara. According to their reports, the Empress had quickly grown quite fond of Alt Lotor, giving him freedoms and privileges that she gave few others, and also spending quite a lot of time with him. Romelle in particular reported that she suspected that the Empress was rather taken with this man.
Lotor sighed, reaching into the bottom of a drawer to pull out a very, very old, faded photograph. In it, he could see his younger self with his arm around Allura as they smiled together at the camera. This was the last memory he had of better days, and though it hurt to remember what he and Allura used to have together before… before everything, before she turned into a monster, he never got rid of the photograph. Now, he felt some strange sting of jealousy. It seemed so strangely appropriate and yet so cruel that after 10,000 years, Allura had finally replaced him, but the only replacement she could find for him was an alternate version of him.
He put the photograph back. There was no point in dwelling on that. If the Empress and Alt Lotor were happy together, so be it. Lotor had bigger issues.
Besides… he could admit to himself that he had been wondering a little too intently about alternate realities since hearing Sven and Slav’s report about the alternate reality travelers who had appeared some time ago, including another Allura. He had often caught himself daydreaming about what she might be like. Was she just like the princess he had known so long ago? He couldn’t be sure. He thought that such speculation was mere fantasy. Now, he might actually meet her.
“Lotor?” Acxa’s voice snapped Lotor out of his thoughts. “It’s time for you to leave. The transport ship has been prepped with everything you need to infiltrate and blend in.”
“Thank you, Acxa.” Lotor smiled softly at her. “How do I look?”
Acxa looked him up and down. “You look like a perfect replica of Alt Lotor. No one should suspect a thing until it is too late.”
“Perfect.” Lotor headed toward the door, but he paused next to Acxa, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I have no idea how long I will be gone. Please, look after everyone, will you? I promise to return soon.”
Nodding, Acxa replied, “I understand. This is a smart tactical move, and if everything goes according to plan, we’ll have all the reinforcements we need in the fight against Altea. Don’t worry about us. Just do what you need to.”
“Thank you.” Lotor hesitated, unsure whether to initiate further physical contact, and he was surprised when Acxa closed the gap and hugged him. He quickly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her and soaking in the affection. She was like family to him, really, like a little sister. He hated to leave her, but he knew she was smart and self-sufficient. She’d be fine.
After a moment, Acxa pulled away, and the two shared a soft smile. “Good luck, Lotor,” Acxa told him.
“Good luck to you too, Acxa. Freedom or Death.”
“Freedom or Death.”
With that, Lotor headed off toward the hangar. He would have to say a few more goodbyes, but if the plan worked, this would all be worth it.
~*~*~*~
It was ridiculously easy to infiltrate the Altean palace. Lotor walked around with ease, questioned by absolutely no one, which honestly surprised him. Did the Empress really trust Alt Lotor that much already? Did it occur to no one that allowing someone who looked identical to the Empire’s most wanted criminal free access to everything in the palace could end poorly? But Lotor wasn’t going to question it. As long as the plan worked, that was all that mattered.
On his shoulder, Lotor carried a bag containing his Guns of Gamara suit and gun. If anyone looked in the bag and moved aside the other garments it contained, they would know that he was the rebel leader they been trying to kill for so long, but no one so much as even scanned it. Foolish. They deserved what was coming to them.
After mere doboshes, Lotor reached the hangar containing the trans-reality ship, and, true to his agents’ word, the door opened to his touch. He stepped inside and paused in awe at the sight of the ship, Sincline. It was a masterpiece, really. It looked stunningly powerful but also majestic in a sinister, intimidating way. Lotor quickly made his way over to it, and he was relieved when it responded to his touch, allowing him inside.
As Lotor sat down at the controls, he found that he immediately loved how comfortable they were, like they had been made just for him… and he laughed to himself as he realized that, yes, they were made for him, in a way. Theoretically, it should have taken him at least a few moments to figure out all the controls, but the ship responded to his mere touch like it was reading his thoughts, and he was shocked to find that he could understand it, in a way. It… it knew that he wasn’t the Lotor it was accustomed to, and yet it accepted him instantly, as if it knew what this Lotor was trying to do and approved of that. The mental link with the ship felt warm and right in a way that Lotor could not describe, and he instantly found himself hoping that he would never have to part from this ship. This ship was his.
“Lotor!” a voice yelled from outside the ship, and Lotor looked down through Sincline’s viewscreen to see some Altean guard he’d never met before. “What are you doing? Did the Empress authorize this?”
“Of course,” Lotor replied, letting Sincline’s comm system carry his voice. He maneuvered the robot ship, guiding it toward the hangar door, and he pressed the remote button to open the airlock. The guard might perish, but then again, helmets came standard with Altean armor, so they’d probably be fine. Lotor didn’t particularly care either way, considering that said guard was his enemy. He simply focused on piloting Sincline out of the hangar and into open space, heading toward the location of the rift the Altean scientists had recorded.
A flat holo-screen popped up above Lotor’s dashboard, partially blocking his viewscreen, and… gods of Altea, it was Allura. She looked almost exactly as he remembered her, even after all this time, and she was still stunningly beautiful. “Lotor, what are you doing?” she asked. She sounded… hurt, betrayed even.
Lotor forced a cocky smile. There was no reason to dwell on the fact that this was the first conversation they’d had in 10,000 years. He had a job to do. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking this ship into the other reality.”
“But we talked about this!” Allura protested. “We have a plan. Why are you deviating from the plan?”
“Oh, princess,” Lotor said mockingly, “you should know by now that things never work out when you and I make plans.”
Allura looked like she was trying hard to process what he was saying but was coming up short. “Why are you saying that? Lotor, I don’t understand.”
Lotor put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “You don’t recognize me? You wound me, Princess, truly.”
The Empress gasped. “You. Rebel scum.”
Lotor grinned. “Now you recognize me. Yes, Empress, your new boyfriend is still as much of a brainwashed toy as you like all your subjects to be. But really, Princess, you’ve replaced me already?” He pouted. “For the record, I haven’t forgotten.”
“I want nothing to do with you. You’re a traitor to Altea!”
“And you destroyed my people,” Lotor pointed out. “In any case, a little bird told me that there’s an entire Galra empire out there, just waiting for a leader, and a whole colony of innocent Alteans who haven’t been brainwashed by your agenda.”
The Empress scowled at him. “I’ll stop you. I’ll destroy or capture and reform all of your rebels. Altea will rule forever!”
Lotor laughed. “We’ll see about that. Until next time, farewell, Princess.”
And with that, Lotor launched Sincline into the inter-dimensional rift, and he left his own reality behind, the black of space being replaced by the white of the Quintessence Field.