Author's Note: Well, here we are. Welcome to the prequel story to my Rebels/Thing fanfic "Who Goes There?". You don't have to have read that story for this one, but I recommend it all the same. Also, please note that this will be somewhat OC heavy.

Remember, feel free to leave a comment/review and favorite or follow if you feel this deserves it.

Language note: For this chapter, all dialogue written as "this" will be in English. Anything written like /this/ will be in Russian.

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Bridger Household, April 1991, Four Years after the events of Outpost 17, codename 'Fulcrum'...

US Navy Commander Ahsoka Tano looked across the table at Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger, her two subordinates from, and the only survivors of, Outpost 17. Pictures were strewn across the table, pictures from 1970. One showed a US commando team around a block of ice, while another was of a Russian radar crew standing over a hideously disfigured cadaver.

She shuddered as images flashed before her eyes: A lone figure trudged through the night across the ice and snow above the Arctic Circle.

She spoke, her voice shaking slightly as she relived the experience in her mind. "The Arctic, like the opposite pole, a place where the ragged peaks of ice and mountains jut up to break the empty sky. The craggy peaks constantly met only by wind. Apart from the Antarctic, I struggle to remember a harsher place... a place where the wind wouldn't kill you. The struggle lasts until thought is lost... until dreams are lost. Swallowed by the howling maw of the night. The lights above once brought me peace, in time, they meant nothing."

More images flashed before her: The figure dragged another person on a makeshift canvas litter.

"People there will tell you that the wind can make you insane... that it strips from you everything that makes you human. Hope. Reason..." Ahsoka shivered, as if caught in an icy wind, imagining the figure stopping and laying the litter down in the snow, and beginning to walk away.

"And compassion." She forced out as the mental onslaught continued.The body stirred, getting out of the litter onto their knees. The person turned to her surroundings, and screamed into the howling wind. She struggled to her feet, before stumbling towards something in the darkness.

"The wind. It closes over your senses. It eventually makes you unable to tell the difference between what is real..." The person stopped and collapsed to the snow as a blinding light enveloped her. "...and what is not."

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Above the Arctic Icecap, February 10, 1970, 0830 Hours

The UH-1 Huey helicopter thundered over the arctic ice. Inside were two people. A pilot and a passenger who had an M-79 grenade launcher slung across his back. Under their thermal gear, the pilot wore the flight uniform of a US Navy pilot, while the passenger wore the uniform of a US Army Ranger. At first glance, there was nothing off about them. But if one looked closer, they would have seen the raw, crazed determination in their faces. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of these two soldiers. They knew it did, and they bore that burden like a cross. Their tired, bloodshot eyes were proof of that.

The Ranger scanned the ice with his binoculars as the helicopter flew precariously close to the ground, it's chassis battered by the driving wind. The dials reflected on the pilot's visor as they dipped closer and closer to empty on fuel.

The Ranger yelled at the pilot and pointed at something on the ground. About a hundred feet below them, and 150 yards to the front of them, a dog ran towards a Soviet radar outpost. But this was no dog, it was all that was left of something that had wreaked chaos on the personnel of the American radar station the two soldiers had come from. It turned to look at the helicopter and snarled. It then whirled and galloped off towards the Soviet outpost as a grenade struck the snow where it once stood, throwing up chunks of ice and snow.

Meanwhile, the group of Soviet technicians spent the day relaxing in the rec room or working, blissfully unaware of the impending danger. While run by the military, the Soviet radar station also had several civilians alongside them. It was here in the Arctic that one was safe... well mostly safe... from politics and secret police. You couldn't be sent to Siberia if you were already there after all.

Outside the Soviet outpost, a large, snow-covered building surrounded by several small huts and shacks, several people worked in the snow. Civilian Lux Bonteri knelt in between a snowmobile and the two Mi-8 helicopters as he tinkered with one of the snowmobiles. Two other radar specialists, Private Aleksei and civilian Surkov, gathered some weather data outside the outpost. The faint sound of an approaching helicopter and explosions turned their attention.

Back in the air, the Ranger fired the M-79 'Thumper' at the dog. It dodged to the side as the grenade exploded near it and the Ranger grabbed the M60 machine gun slung on the side of the door and opened fire. He was leaning dangerously outside the Huey, trying to shoot the dog. The snow puffed where the bullets missed the target. The passenger yelled, imploring the pilot to get a better firing angle.

The pilot, albeit reluctantly, complied, the helicopter swooping lower and increasing the throttle to full. The Ranger continued to fire, several bullets striking the target as the helicopter swerved to get a good firing angle on the dog. However, the dog somehow repaired the damage before the pilot could bring the copter around to fire another grenade. It dodged the round with almost supernatural ability. The dog ran feverishly up the final hill before the Soviet outpost as more snow kicked up behind it.

By now, Surkov was looking through a pair of binoculars. He saw 'Navy' stenciled on the side and a soldier leaning over the side, firing a machine gun at something. He did not appear to be interested in the Soviet base at all, however, which was somewhat odd. Lux walked up, /What is it, Surkov?/

/Says 'Navy' on the side and there's a white star. Must be an American helicopter. Passenger's firing a machine gun and grenades at something. I'm not sure what./

/Why would an armed helicopter be up here? There's nothing here but snow and ice! And I thought they didn't know about this place!/ They were forced to duck for cover as the helicopter shot over their heads, circling around and over the Soviet outpost. Bullets ricocheted off the metal roof of the building, startling everyone inside. It swung back on a course behind the dog and once again it flew straight at the Soviet base and continued firing.

The needles finally dropped to empty. The helicopter began to fall, and the pilot attempted a high-speed landing, as the helicopter wouldn't be able to drop enough speed in time. Much too low, the helicopter was slammed into the ground by a downdraft, hot on the heels of the sprinting dog. It bounced once violently on the ice; then it bounced twice, speeding past the dog. The third bounce sent the helicopter skidding across the ice. The Ranger jumped off, tumbling across the ice with the M-79 flying from his grasp. It skidded across the ice and came to a rest in a snowbank. The helicopter flipped over, blades snapping off like toothpicks, until it came to a rest belly up. The only sound was the whistling of the wind through the cracked windscreen and open doors. The pilot had been smashed into the windshield, and she slumped down in her harness. One of the helicopter blades had speared the fuselage of the copter, and had pinned the pilot inside. Her head lay on the ceiling of the overturned Huey.

The flyover and crash had alerted everyone in the research station to the fact that something was wrong. Lieutenant Mikhail the radio operator, Colonel Kariylev the station leader, and Captain Boris the doctor all filed out into the snow as the dog ran up to them. The Alaskan Malamute ran up to Aleksei and began licking and pawing at him.

The helicopter passenger staggered to his feet and double timed it through the snow, leaving his companion back in the helicopter, towards the group of confused-looking Russians. He waved his arms, as if trying to shoo them off, and yelled at them, his face now caked in blood and snow. He yelled something at them in English. The Soviets just looked at him blankly, confused even more. Out of the the twelve of them, only Mikhail knew any English, and it was broken at best. Mikhail turned to Karilyev and said, /He's yelling about the... dog. Something about the dog, but he's speaking too fast./

The American shouted again. But they still showed a frustrating inability to understand him. By now, the American had had enough, if they wouldn't do anything, he would have to. The American yelled something else before he whipped out his M1911 sidearm and opened fire.

The Soviets jumped back in disbelief. The American continued to shout and fire as they scrambled away from him. A bullet slammed into the dog's hip, sending it yelping in pain and skidding towards the outpost entrance. A stray bullet bored its way into Lux's leg and he collapsed where he stood. Surkov dragged him behind a snow bank as Mikhail and Karilyev dove behind one of the snowmobiles. The American stalked after the dog relentlessly, firing, reloading, shouting, and running after it.

There was total chaos in the rec room as the rest of the Soviet crew crowded around the windows, watching the crazed American on his rampage. The strangest part about it was that the American was not going after them, but the dog. Something was wrong. Still, they ran to arm themselves from the intruder.

Surkov and Lux heard the crunch of snow behind them. The American stood there, pistol raised at their heads. He yelled something at them and gestured wildly with the M1911 as his eyes blazed with a grim, wild determination. Surkov jumped up at him, but the American angrily threw him to the side. Lux dove to the ground as the pistol fired. There was a yelp from behind them and the two Russians saw the dog jerk wildly as the American unleashed the entire magazine into it. The American reloaded, emptying a second clip into the motionless dog, nearly reducing it to a pulp.

Completely ignoring the stunned Russians, the American reached into his jacket, but suddenly jerked and fell forward onto the snow as blood splattered onto the snow. Standing behind the American was Colonel Karilyev, who held a smoking Makarov pistol in hand. The American moaned, pulling out a grenade that was swiftly kicked out of his hand. The American reached for the grenade again, but Karilyev kicked the American again in the head. He collapsed, motionless, with his hand wrapped around the grenade.

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Several Days Later, Washington DC...

General Anakin Skywalker sped through the streets of Washington DC towards the White House. He had been summoned by the President, apparently it was an urgent matter. Showing his credentials to the guards, Anakin was let inside. He rushed down towards Command Ops and skidded to a halt, snapping off a hasty salute as he came face to face with POTUS. "Mr. President. General Skywalker reporting."

"At ease, Anakin. It's good to see you again, my boy." Anakin nodded likewise at his commander-in-chief. President Sheev Palpatine sighed, "I regret that this is not a social call and was under better circumstances. Please, follow me."

Anakin followed President Palpatine into the next room where several other military generals were seated. A familiar voice rang out, "Hello there."

Anakin turned and smiled, "General Kenobi. What a surprise."

General Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled, before embracing his old friend, "It's good to see you again, Anakin. I'm afraid there's some trouble brewing with the Russians."

President Palpatine nodded solemnly, "Sadly, it appears so. I recently got this message from Premier Dooku, leader of the USSR. He claims a US Navy helicopter gunship attacked one of their arctic radar bases. He said the helicopter crashed and that both occupants are in custody."

Anakin nodded then shrugged, "What does this have to do with me?"

"The passenger was taken to a military base in Kamchatka. He was identified as a US Army Ranger. We don't have the name, but I believe he was a soldier under your command. The pilot of the UH-1 Huey was another one of yours, Airman Ahsoka Tano of the US Navy."

Anakin's face contorted into confusion, "What? There must be some mistake. Why would Ahsoka attack a Soviet radar base?"

Obi-Wan spoke this time, "We don't know either. All we know is that the two of us dispatched her to fly a squad of Rangers and SEAL Commander Cody to Peary Station near the North Pole to investigate a strange crashed aircraft. We've tried contacting them, but there's been no response. Even stranger, the Canadians at Tuktoyaktuk Station reported a small group of Americans showing up on a snowcat. One of them was Commander Cody, but they said they were the only ones left alive. They claimed that something had killed them all. Yesterday, a Japanese trawler claimed to have found a person, who matched Ahsoka's description. Unfortunately, she escaped, stole a helicopter, and flew back North."

General Plo Koon spoke up, "Even worse, a Soviet special forces unit investigated the Soviet research post because it reportedly went silent. They found it destroyed and Ahsoka was the only survivor. Apparently, she admitted to killing several of the base members because they were 'infected.' Shortly after reporting in, the Soviet special forces unit also went quiet."

Anakin was shocked, "Wait, so they believe Ahsoka killed them. Do we know where she is?"

President Palpatine sighed, "We don't know. Dooku wouldn't say. He's claiming that this is a deliberate attack by America and is threatening nuclear war. I declared Airman Tano to be a rogue soldier not under our orders a few hours ago. She is to be considered a hostile and engaged on sight."

Anakin's head snapped towards the President, "What! Mr. President, with all due respect, what proof do you have! We don't know her side of the story or if this is all a Soviet plot! We can't just cast her to the wind!"

Palpatine sighed, "General Skywalker, you must realize I have no choice. Dooku and his attack dog General Grevious have always been volatile towards us, and they were just waiting for an opportunity to attack us. They would have used nuclear weapons against us if I didn't do this. The Japanese are stepping in, they want both sides to come together and hear the survivors' stories. A joint US-Soviet-Japanese special forces team is currently trying to track down Airman Tano. Seeing how you and General Kenobi authorized the mission to Peary Station, I'm sending you two to rendezvous with the Soviets in Hokkaido. You will leave as soon as possible."

Anakin, still fuming, nodded at Obi-Wan and saluted, "Yes, Mr. President."

And so it begins, I hope you enjoyed it.