Pacific Rim/Assassin's Creed fusion, set in the Pacific Rim universe. I don't have much plot-wise, so this is basically just a set of drabbles exploring the idea.
This may or may not end up Altair/Malik. Either way it will not be the focus of the fic.

A sharp clack brought Malik out of his musings.

In the doorway stood a man, of Middle Eastern descent like Malik, wearing dark sunglasses and carrying long, thin cane. Blind.

"Is Malik here?" the man asked brusquely, walking into the sparring room.

"I am." Malik stood, facing the new arrival. "And you must be Altair."

"The general said you were a drift candidate for me," Altair said almost scornfully.

"Other way around, but that's the overall idea, yes."

"Why would you agree to drift with someone like me?"

"An idiot, you mean?"

"A blind man," Altair sneered. "I do not need anyone's pity."

"I do not pity you. The general thinks it could work. I am willing to attempt it, even though you are a coward and an idiot."

Altair's hand tightened on the cane. "I am no coward!"

"Of course you are. Everyone speaks so highly of the pilot who took a jeager out alone and lived to tell of it, but you didn't do it because you thought you could, did you. No, now that I've met you, I'd say you did it because you were scared. Scared of what though? The drift maybe?"

Altair lunged for him, and Malik sidestepped, grabbing one of the staves against the wall and bringing it around to swipe Altair's feet out from under him.

Altair landed with a loud 'oof,' but rolled to his feet immediately.

"I'm right, aren't I," Malik continued, getting a solid grip on the staff. Fighting was so much harder with only one arm. "But you're forgetting one thing."

"And what is that?" Altair asked, possibly in spite of himself, like a starving animal – wanting but mistrustful.

"If we fail, it will more likely be my fault than yours."

"Yours?" Altair asked, seemingly surprised. "Why?"

"Did you even bother to read up on me before you agreed to this?"

"Read?" Altair asked , the question loaded with loathing and mockery.

"Braille exists. If you have not learned it in the years since your accident, then you are illiterate, not disabled, and you will get no pity from me for being lazy, novice." Altair seemed ready to explode, so Malik plunged on. "As for me, I was part of jeager team with my brother, Kadar. He was killed by a kaiju, while we were drifting. I also lost my left arm during that fight. I barely survived, and haven't attempted a drift since, nor has anyone offered to let me. Mental trauma is much more likely to scrap this entire insane experiment than you and your rampant stupidity."

"You, you lost your arm?" Altair straightened out of his slight crouch.

Malik stepped forward and brought the staff around in a flat swing at Altair's torso.

Twisting out of the way at the last second, Altair stumbled back awkwardly. "What was that for!?"

"I am here because General Kenway is desperate. I am here because I would rather die on my feet than cowering in a shelter. And if that means trying to drift with a rank novice and a coward to boot, then that is exactly what I will do."

"I am no coward-!"

"Get this through your thick skull, novice. I don't care about whatever terrible secret you think you're hiding in that head of yours. You could be fucking corpses for all I care. I will get in that jeager, and you will drift with me."

"And if you start chasing the rabbit? Get lost in your memories?" Altair asked.

"Then we may fail, through no fault of yours. But I will not give up before I have even attempted it," Malik said, voice hard. "Because I am not a coward."

Altair bridled under the implied insult, but kept his temper. "Then I will see you there tomorrow."