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The Jedi of the North
Written by: Tellemicus Sundance
Co-Authored by: ffdrake
#01: An Unexpected Arrival

295 AC
Wolfswood, the North

The day had started like any other in the North. Cold, cloudy, and windy, despite it still being in the heart of summer. But that wasn't anything new to the group of men who were bustling about around a series of tents and campfires. All but one of the men gathered wore the dark direwolf sigil of the Starks upon their chest or cloak or shoulders. Each were dressed in heavy leathers and wool to combat the cold of the early morning. They were scurrying about their campsite, breaking down the tents, gathering up the supplies and loading up their packhorses for travel. Even the three youngest among them were busy rolling and binding their tents, all too eager to get on the road again.

The group had spent the night on a barren rocky crag that jutted up from the surrounding low hills and woodlands an almost tower like structure on one side. Its large and sharp rocky walls offering up a surprising amount of protection from the ever-present winds. And its elevated position gave an excellent field of vision along this stretch of the road to those who camped upon it. It was a common place for travelers caught on the Torrhen's Road far from the safety of Winterfell to stop and rest for the night. But it was also a common place for particularly foolish or brave bandits to camp out as they waited for passing travelers down below to raid.

"It's a wonderful location for a small keep," the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Eddard Stark, said softly to himself as he surveyed the lay of the land below.

He'd had the thought many times before. It would make for an ideal strategic holding position, especially since it was only a day and a half's ride from Winterfell. Sadly, this fact was not lost on the local bandits either and the North had to periodically clear out any encamped marauders. However, the reason why Eddard hadn't decided to do anything with the crag, like build a small keep on the site, was probably the same reason why no other Stark or house had done so either. While it was an ideal defensive landmark, it was also in a remote location far off from the more frequently traveled paths.

'Although, perhaps that could be a good thing…' he thought to himself as he glanced over at his sons, specifically at his bastard son, Jon Snow. And, judging by the appraising eyes that both his sons were making of the area, they were having similar thoughts themselves. 'This could be a good place for him…if he wants it.'

"My lord," Jory Cassel, the captain of his guard, approached Eddard with his riding helm tucked under his arm. "We'll be ready to depart within a few minutes."

Nodding, Eddard stood from where he'd been seated on a flat rock near the firepit, picking the last of the meat from one of the cooked hares they'd had for dinner and tossing the bones off to the side. "Then let us be off."

Within a few short minutes the score of men and three boys were mounted and gingerly making their way down the narrow path they'd used to reach their campsite. It was slow going, but they made good time now that their mounts could see where they were heading.

Once back on Torrhen's Road, the ride back to Winterfell resumed. It was mostly amicable riding as many of the men were either good friends or familiar acquaintances with one another. Though he did have to lightly reprimand Theon Greyjoy when he tried and succeeded at picking at Jon's pride.

Pulling his horse up alongside that of his son and heir, Robb Stark, Eddard shot the boy an evaluating gaze as his son met his eyes briefly. "So, my son, what have you learned from this journey?"

Robb gained a thoughtful look on his youthful face as Theon and Jon both glanced over as well. One more discreetly than the other. At just over twelve years of age, Robb was still quite thin and boney, having not yet earned the muscle mass that grown men possessed. His dark red hair was starkly visible from where it peeked out from under his helm, a splash of red on his otherwise dull brown and gray furs and riding leathers. After a moment of careful consideration, Robb finally looked back at his father. "That Ser Helman's dispute with that Braavosi merchant was embarrassingly simple to resolve?"

The somewhat impish grin on his childish face revealed his humorous intent behind the statement. On the other side of Robb, Theon snickered. He'd had a merry time during their visit to Torrhen's Square, mocking the young Tallhart son. Even dour Jon had a wry grin on his face at Robb's jest. But Eddard kept his face firm and gaze steady. This was a serious question and he would have a serious answer from his son and heir. Robb understood that look immediately, having seen it increasingly more often as of late as Eddard began giving the boys more education in the art of ruling.

So, that being the case, the boy hurriedly clarified. "The transport upriver from White Harbor and over land from Cerwyn is a long, slow process that could easily be attacked by marauders and bandits, with goods stolen or broken. The argument over whether the taxes and tariffs were of a fair price and worth the risk was a good one and Torrhen's Square needs those supplies."

"Very true," Eddard stated, nodding his head agreeably as he idly ducked under a low-hanging branch. Robb flushed slightly out of pride at his father's approval. "But that wasn't the point of this trip."

"Eh…?" Robb uttered in confusion, his happiness evaporating as he turned a confused look towards his lord father. "Then what was the point?"

"One day, Robb, you will be the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North," Eddard said gravely. "But doesn't mean you must anchor yourself to Winterfell, summoning any quarreling lords to you. Our duty as Lords Paramount is the protection of our people. To see them thrive is one of our utmost important tasks. And for that to happen, sometimes we must venture forth from Winterfell."

"To see the lands and meet the people ourselves," Robb spoke up, a look of understanding crossing his face. Eddard shot the boy a small smile as he nodded in confirmation.

"Correct," he said. "Remember, our way is the old way. We are not Southerners. We do not hold court exclusively in our own castles. We do not simply summon our lords and expect immediate and absolute compliance. And many of our bannermen would take offense if we did attempt such things on a regular basis."

"I understand, father," Robb said, nodding his head.

Looking past him, Eddard could see that Jon also had a thoughtful expression on his face. At least he did until he saw Eddard's gaze and he quickly looked away, his face shifting back into a neutral blank expression. Despite himself, Eddard couldn't help the small burst of amusement that bloomed behind his breast at seeing Jon like that. It reminded him strongly of those few times he'd accompanied his own father on such journeys, before his fostering down in The Vale.

"Good, remember that, son," Eddard said before returning his attention back to his riding and drifting up towards the front of the group. Behind him, he could hear the three boys start up a quiet conversation among themselves.

It was just starting to near midday when he…noticed it. He wasn't sure how or why or what it was. It just…a feeling. That was the only way he could describe it. A tingling feeling that ran up his spine and sent shivers of…fear, anticipation, excitement back down his spine. His whole body suddenly started tingling and twitching with seemingly irrepressible energy as he felt something…change.

It was a feeling he'd felt several times throughout his life. When he was a young boy, scarcely older than his young son Bran, his own father had once told him that it was a call from wolfsblood within them. An instinct of near-magical proportions that many Starks possessed. The first times he'd ever felt the wolfsblood within himself had been during the Grand Tourney at Harrenhal: when the Mad King Aerys had made his presence known, when he'd seen Prince Rhaegar start winning in the lists with near impunity, when the Knight of the Laughing Tree appeared and vanished, and when he caught his first glimpse of…of her. Eddard also remembered having similar feelings just prior to the start of Robert's Rebellion, around the time that he'd later learned was when his father and brother had been executed. As well as multiple times throughout the ensuing chaos and war, even a few during the Greyjoy Rebellion. He'd learned to always trust and follow these feelings whenever they cropped up because, more times than not, they foretold of an approaching crisis or something of extreme importance.

Subtly, he started glancing around the wooded road they were following, searching for anything that might've set off his wolfsblood. But aside from a few small critters that were scurrying about the foliage and through the canopy above, the road was empty. The trees were thin and small here, recent growth following a bad fire several years prior, which made for poor hiding places. No, nothing was in sight that he could immediately and easily see. Nevertheless, his hand had drifted subtly to rest upon the hilt of his sword. Not Ice, sadly, the ancestral blade of House Stark was unfortunately too large and cumbersome to be used in combat despite being Valyrian steel.

Glancing back at his men, he saw that many of them didn't seem to have notice the change in the air. Oh, they were watching their surroundings and keeping themselves ready in case of an unexpected ambush. Wildlings and marauders were common in the wolfswood after all. But they didn't have that air of tensed readiness that troops had when they knew that trouble was nearby. However, Jon, Robb, and surprisingly Theon did. Jon and Robb's eyes were darting to both sides of the road, searching like he had. Whereas Theon was fingering the yew bow and quiver of arrows that were nestled upon his saddle. All of them seemed to have felt his gaze on them as they glanced up at him momentarily. He nodded discreetly before turning his attention back to their surroundings. Where was this feeling coming from?

As if to almost answer his unspoken question, the horses started acting up. Nickering and neighing with unease, slowing from the light amble they'd been moving at to almost a stop as their ears swerved about. It was only at this point that the rest of the armsmen in the party took note that something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" Jory asked as he sidled his horse over towards Lord Stark, having quickly noticed his lord's strange alertness.

"Something's…coming," Eddard stated. "I don't where or what it is, but something big is going to happen…very soon."

Before Jory could ask the obvious question that was on his lips, a quiet voice called out hesitantly, "Can you hear that?" It was Jon.

Everyone turned to look at him strangely with Theon shooting him an especially snide look as he asked, "Hear what?"

"I hear it too," Robb stated evenly, cocking his head slightly to try and locate whatever sound he heard.

Before anyone else could speak up, the sound reached everyone else's ears, a most peculiar sound at that. It was distant yet distinct, like a low, far-off, but intense wind galling high in the air. Without warning their horses started whinnying in increasing volumes of distress as they shuffled and bucked about slightly. It was only experience and gentle handling from their riders that prevented the horses from going into the panic they clearly wanted to.

"I don't like this," one of the armsmen said. "We should hurry on to Winterfell, Lord Stark!"

"What is that?" Someone else asked, also starting to look around, trying to find the source of the gall from within the woods. "Is there a storm coming?"

Robb and Jon's heads both shot up as they looked towards the sky. Seeing the slight widening of both boy's eyes, Eddard also looked skywards. He felt his own eyes widen involuntarily as he too located not only the source of the wind sound but the tingling feeling as well.

"Not likely," another of the armsmen argued back. "Winter may be coming, but it's still a long while off before fall. I think—"

"Look!" Robb called out; his eyes wide as he pointed upwards towards what had attracted his gaze.

Following his gaze and pointed arm, everyone else looked upwards, eyes widening at what they saw. "By the old gods…!"

Up in the sky, somewhat hidden behind the canopy of leaves and branches, was a terrible and fiery star falling fast towards the earth. The closer it came the louder the noise became until it was louder than even the sounds of the animals and tress surrounding them. While falling stars weren't unheard of, indeed there were more than a few legends and myths surrounding such things from all around Westeros, they were rare events. Rarer still were the stars that had any real mass to them once they'd reached the ground. But never in any of the myths and legends that Eddard had heard of had they mentioned a fiery star quite like the one that he was seeing now.

The star was simply massive in size. Easily as large as castle. That fact alone already set it apart from the other tales. But another oddity was the shape of the falling star, which he could just barely see though the fire surrounding it. He was no maester, he had no interest in the mathematics beyond simple account keeping, or of the shapes and angles that made up the world. But even he knew that nature didn't create perfectly straight lines in any of its structures. No river or mountain or island or tree was ever perfect, only manmade structures were. What he was seeing was clearly not a natural creation. The star had the basic shape of a spearhead with what could've charitably have been called a castle or tower of some sort mounted on the broader back half. And despite it being on fire as it plummeted unnervingly towards where he and the rest were standing, Eddard could also see that the star had the distinctive sheen of polished metal over its surface, which only solidified his realization that it wasn't natural.

"Everyone! Dismount!" Eddard roared over the rising din of the falling star. He quickly followed his own order, slipping out of the saddle and grasping tightly to the reins of his horse. "Brace yourselves!"

The massive metallic star roared overhead, disturbingly close. Once it had passed by, powerful winds swept through the trees, sending loose foliage flying in its wake, knocking more than a few of the men and horses off their feet. Several of the men screamed out in pain as their horse's falling body landed upon them, breaking bones or just knocking them off their feet. Even Eddard had been sent flying, losing hold of his horse and stopping only when he impacted a nearby tree. Thankfully, his horse was one of the few that managed to brace itself better and stayed on its feet. Before either beast or man could recollect themselves, the sounds of an impact off in the distance reached them, like a thunderous din. The earth trembled and shook violently beneath their feet, sending what few men remained still standing to the ground. Another strong gust of wind followed this, but nowhere near as powerful as the first. But unlike the first, this one carried with it the smell of smoke and dust and ash.

As the rumbling thunder of the crash far off passed by and faded into the distance, everyone took a collective breath of relief now that the initial danger was over. Picking himself off the tree, Lord Stark stumbled forward, looking about his men. Most of them were also picking themselves off the ground. Thankfully, none seemed worse for ware, including his two sons and Theon. 'Thank the gods for that,' he thought before he hurried over to help with the groaning and crying men who remained on the ground, those who'd been struck by or had a fallen horse land over them. Speaking of which, many of the horses had run off as soon as they'd recovered from their falls, disappearing down the road in a wild, panicked rush. Only three of them remained behind, their reins held tightly by their riders who'd fought to keep them close.

"How many are injured?" Eddard demanded as he helped pick a man back to his feet. The man didn't seem hurt, just disoriented and winded.

"Uh, I-I count five, my lord," Jory answered hesitantly, looking northwards towards where the star had landed, even as he too helped a man back to his feet.

"Three horses," Eddard said softly with a frown upon his face. "We're fortunate then. Help the injured onto a horse, two per horse! Looks like we're walking the rest of the way, or until we find our horses again."

"Aye," Jory nodded, turning to start issuing the orders.

Eddard made his way over to the three boys, all of whom were staring north with wide almost frightened eyes. "You lot okay?"

"Y-Y-Yes, father," Jon answered, tearing his gaze away to look at his lord father, Theon and Robb soon joining him.

"Lord Stark, what was that?!" Theon demanded, a hint of fear still lingering in his voice with his hands curled into tight fists, no doubt to prevent them from shaking.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But whatever that star was, it wasn't natural."

"It was made of metal," Jon pointed out softly. "Only man can work rock into metal."

"But the sheer size of it…It was almost as big as Winterfell! What kind of man could build a castle of metal like that?!" Robb asked, not disagreeing but still obviously confused. "Let alone one that looked like it was meant more for flight!"

"I don't know," Jon answered, looking at his sibling with his usual calmness fast returning.

"Maybe men from beyond the Sunset Sea?" Theon suggested weakly, his wavering voice betraying his own uncertainty.

"We will know in time, very soon," Eddard stated. "For now, we march for Winterfell. Help those who need it if you can. But try to keep pace. We're about four hours ride from home, so we'll be moving at a quick pace for a while."

"Aye!" all three boys chorused.

Winterfell

The next two days were a flurry of activity within the walls of Winterfell. It wasn't a surprise. Everyone knew what had happened and what was about to happen. The falling star, or the Fallen Star as some of the smallfolk had taken to calling it, had been seen by nearly everyone. And those that hadn't seen it had most definitely heard and felt it when it had landed somewhere deep in the wolfswood. When Lord Stark had returned late the previous night, he'd declared that he was going to investigate the fallen object and put out a call for any and all able-bodied volunteers. His call was answered almost immediately as just about everyone in Winterfell wanted to lay their eyes on the fallen star, but since he and his group were exhausted and injured from the long march, the new venture was postponed until Eddard and his men that'd traveled with him had gotten a good night's sleep.

Lord Stark had proclaimed that they would be heading out early the next morning at the first sign of light. And by the time the Lord of Winterfell made himself known, the yard of Winterfell was already packed with volunteers. Smallfolk arming themselves with whatever they could find while the guardsmen of House Stark donned their armor and sharpening their weapons. To the side of the yard, those unable or unwilling to make the trek were busy as well gathering and packing supplies for those who were venturing out.

Almost hidden within the grouping, Jon Snow busied himself by tightening the straps of his saddle on his chosen horse. He was dressed in a dark, heavy gambesome that was clearly meant for a larger man. Thankfully, he had also acquired a hardened leather chest plate that he tied tightly around his torso, picking up the slack of the gambesome quite well. Hanging from his belt was a longsword on his left and a dagger on his right.

Yawning widely as he finished tightening up the last belt, he glanced over towards the stables. He could see Lord Stark speaking with his Lady wife. Though he couldn't be sure, it looked to him that Lady Catelyn was once again trying to argue against his father making this journey himself. The Lady had been strangely jumpy and in fact almost seemingly frightened since their return the two nights ago. It didn't surprise Jon that she apparently saw the Fallen Star as some type of sign, an omen of ill fortune sent by her beloved seven gods. So, her spending an inordinate amount of time pestering Lord Stark to not go and investigate the wolfswoods also wasn't surprising to him. Nor was her pleading to exclude her dear son Robb from the expedition, since it was possible, probable even, that fighting would be involved and he might get injured or, gods forbid, killed.

'I won't let that happen,' Jon declared resolutely in his head as he shot a look over towards Robb. His sibling was already mounted on his horse and waiting for the rest of the men and father to ready themselves. It seemed he was unusually eager to get back out there and explore the woods. Not that Jon could blame him. He was excited too. His whole body was tingling and shivering with anticipation. He didn't why, but he knew that this expedition would be exciting, terrifying, and that things would be different when they returned somehow. After all, the single-most unique celestial event of the past several millennia had happened within their kingdom, within their lifetime! Whatever happened in the coming days would undoubtedly be remembered for years to come!

'Okay, maybe that's too optimistic, but I still know that something important is going to happen,' he admitted to himself, reining in his childish enthusiasm as he led his horse out of the stable and towards the bustling mass of other horsemen. He didn't mount his horse right away, simply trying to fade into the crowd of 200 armsmen. Less of a chance of being spotted by Lady Stark that way. He really didn't want to earn her attention right now as he knew it'd be the most surefire way of dampening his enthusiasm. Besides, by the end of the day, he knew he'd be anticipating dismounting the beast as quickly as he could.

As he made his way through the crowd, Jon caught glimpses of his other siblings. He could see Sansa, Arya, and Bran all gathered over the inner gatehouse that led to the inner courtyard and the Great Keep. All of them had the same expressions of excitement and curiosity, but also concern and confusion, some more than others. While they seemed to be looking over the whole horde, he knew they gazes kept swinging back towards their arguing parents.

"Men! Mount!" Lord Stark bellowed suddenly, snapping Jon from his musings. He, like all the others, quickly climbed into his saddle and situated himself. After several moments pause, as his father no doubt waited for any stragglers, he called out again, "Ride!"

In a great flurry of motion and noise, the small army trotted out through the gatehouse and towards the wilderness beyond. Once all of the men were out, Jon looked back briefly to see that gates and portcullis of Winterfell slam shut behind them. Lady Stark must've really been certain of bad omens appearing then if she barely waited for her husband to leave before ordering the keep sealed shut. But he quickly pushed that thought from his mind and focused on the horse under him and the road ahead.

Wolfswood

It had been more than fortnight since the large search party had left Winterfell and since then their numbers had grown. Much to the boys' initial surprise, they had been joined quite quickly by random smallfolk who were also venturing into the wolfswood. The smallfolk seemed to have fallen under the general belief that this was a chance for them. A chance to reenact the old House Dayne legend where if they managed to find the heart of the Fallen Star and had it forged into a sword, they or their families might one day become a great House too. Robb and Jon could easily see the appeal of such a thing, but Theon had laughed himself hoarse the first time he'd heard that.

But the part that really solidified it to them just how large this search truly had become was when, on the second day, they were joined by a hundred armsmen from House Cerwyn, led by Lord Medger himself. The next Lord to arrive was Helman Tallhart, also bringing a hundred men. As they moved ever deeper into the wolfswood, some of the smaller noble houses started popping up and adding even more men to the searchers.

"Wait, Lord Whitehill isn't also coming, is he?" Robb had asked his father after they'd met up with Lord Gregor Forrester and his son, Rodrik.

"Most certainly, he is," Eddard had answered grimly, sharing in Robb's reluctance and reservation. While the Whitehills might've been loyal to House Stark, they were as companionable towards the Forresters as fire and water. Needless to say, no one was looking forward to the coming days of company between the two Houses.

Three days later, in true one-upmanship, Lord Ludd Whitehill had indeed made a big show of him having dedicated easily twice as many men to the cause than his hated rival. Perhaps the only good news that Lord Ludd had brought with him was the fact that House Glover was also marshalling its bannermen on the other side of the wolfswood and would be traveling east, hoping to meet up with the Stark host near the approximated crash site. All totaled, what had started out as a modest host of 200 men from Winterfell had grown to upwards of a thousand men in as many as five days, and more were still trickling in as the days progressed.

But even with all that manpower and willing volunteers, finding the site of the crash was proving to be a surprisingly daunting task. Not only was the estimated crash site in the midst of the forest, where there were no actual roads or paths, but the terrain was even rougher and the forest denser with larger and older trees. And more than a few dangerous wild animals like the many wolfpacks, bears, and even a shadowcat or two. It was an area of the forest that was rarely, if ever, explored by man. Not even the most desperate or dedicated of hunters came this deep into the woodland.

But despite the vast amount of territory that they needed to explore, Robb knew they were on the right track. The first and most obvious reason for this belief was the increasingly strong scent of smoke and ash that hung heavy in the air. Apparently, when the star had fallen, it had started a wildfire in the area immediately around it which had spread to other nearby regions before eventually dying out. As a result, the smoke hung heavy in the air, like the potent perfumes that Essosi merchants liked to wear. Though, recently, the smell had been started to fade as the winds finally began clearing the haze from the air. But enough of the smell remained to be a decent guide as they tracked the scent deeper and deeper into the woodlands.

Another passing clue were the strange noises that passed by overheard every so often. The noises were the most peculiar things that any of the Northerners had ever heard before. They sounded like a growl, a hum, and roar all combined together as the noises passed by overheard at mindboggling speeds. Sometimes, if the noise was especially loud, there'd be an accompanying gust of wind once the noise had passed them by. No one tried fooling themselves into thinking that the noises were some of kind bird or creature that they'd just never come across before since no one came this deep into the wolfswood. No, whatever the noise was, it was somehow connected to the fallen star. Though none of the hunters or trackers could identify what the sources of this noise was, and the noise was always gone before any man could climb a tree fast enough to even catch a glimpse, it still didn't take long for them to notice that the noises always seemed to be heading to and from one area of the forest. So, using that as guide, as well as the stench of the smoke, the Northerners continued their trek with growing anxiety and excitement to what they'd find.

But the last reason that Robb knew they were on the right course was that bizarre tingling sensation that he'd been feeling ever since just before the star had fallen. Robb couldn't exactly explain what he was feeling. But the closest he could compare it to being was a vague pull in a certain direction, combined with a strange and inexplicable understanding that his destiny was both awaiting him and about to change when they arrived. It was a very queer thing that left him equally unsettled and excited. And he knew he wasn't the only one feeling it. Jon and father also felt it. Even Theon seemed to have a similar feeling, since he was noticeably less overbearing in his usual arrogance and was becoming surprisingly more somber and alert the closer they got.

"My Lord!" a scout from up ahead suddenly called out softly, waving his arm to further bring attention to himself. The man was on foot and crouched behind a freshly toppled ironwood tree up near the crest of small hill. Robb's heart started hammering hard in his chest. Finally. They'd found something.

Robb joined his father in dismounting his horse and hurrying quietly up the hill, hand resting firmly on the hilt of his sword, his heart starting to beat as fear and excitement built. His excitement was such that he outpaced his father and reached the scout a few moments ahead of him, crouching low as he peered over the tree. What he saw was both reassuring and confusing at the same time and he was still trying to puzzle out what he was seeing as his father drew up alongside him, also crouching lowly.

Two men were visible at the bottom of the hill on the other side about an arrow's shot away. Robb could easily tell that they were indeed fully-grown men just from their size, body shape, and stature. But what really made spotting them easy was the fact that they wore eye-catching white armor over some kind of a black undersuit, but no chain mail. Robb could tell immediately that the blocky white armor they were both wearing was like nothing ever seen before in Westeros. The colors and angles were too…perfect, for lack of a better term. Like the armor had been just freshly made by a blacksmith less than a day ago at best. There was not a scuff nor scratch nor any number of other wear and tear usually associated with worn armor visible on it. The armor was practically gleaming in what little sunlight reached the forest floor. Add to the fact that two armors seemed completely identical to one another in every way conceivable.

But there was also the fact that the armor consisted of sectioned pieces, not unlike regular plate armor but with no visible belts or straps to hold it in place. Plus, the armor covered very few places on the men's bodies, just the upper torso with shoulder pauldrons and pads over the elbows and knees. There were no gauntlets or grieves, just boots and gloves. Strapped around the two men's waist were some pouches of different sizes. But one in particular caught his attention. It was the pouch that hung on the men's right sides. The pouch was black and seemed to be made of leather. Both pouches on both men also had some kind of strange object thrust into them. Robb couldn't help but feel an ominous shiver run down his back as he immediately realized that those objects were some kind of weapon. Although what kind of weapons they were, he had no idea.

Yet what was easily the most eye-catching thing about these two men were the strange helms they wore. The fronts of the helms were partially covered by a curved metallic piece clearly meant to protect the men's eyes from the sun glare. But it was the faceplate that was most striking about the helms. Most Westerosi helms tended to fall on the more artistic side than practical, trying to make a knight seem more menacing while still offering some protection. Robb often heard tales of knights' helms bearing the resemblances of lions, dragons, stags, bulls, and all manner of creatures. Sometimes to represent their individual Houses, or because the knight was trying to be attract attention on the battlefield or in a tourney. But these two helms were clearly different. Despite again being completely identical, they weren't stylized in the traditional Westerosi manner. In fact, rather than make the two men look menacing, those white and queerly shaped faces made them seem inhuman, even monstrous.

All of that was taken in within just a glance. His evaluation finished, Robb turned his attention to what they were doing and frowned. The two armored men were crouched down over a large boar and were in the process of gutting it. 'Poaching,' Robb spat mentally, frowning deeply. Then he started glancing around the small dale the men were in. 'Where are their horses? Those men can't hope to drag that boar all…that…far.'

Robb's thoughts petered out as he glimpsed something on the other side of the dale. The trees and forest were thinner over there. Not because of the terrain or new growth, but because of what looked to be a very large and newly made clearing. Smoke still hung heavy in the air and now he could finally see the blackened and burnt trees and foliage, thick ash covering the ground like a layer of fresh snow. Shining through the new openings of the canopy, a distinctive gleam of a literal wall of metal could be easily seen in the midst of that fire-charred clearing. And between the gleaming metal structure and the trees was a much larger host of men, easily more than a hundred that Robb could see.

"What do you think, Lord Stark?" Jory asked quietly from the other side of father.

"Hm…" Father hummed softly, his eyes darting from the two white-armored knights butchering the boar to the large metal structure beyond the trees.

"It looks like an invasion force," Rodrik Forrester said quietly from nearby, earning Robb's attention. Looking over at the young lord, Robb could see that a large amount of the guardsmen had quietly joined them up on the hilltop. "See? There's the ship they left on the beach and now the army's moving out in all directions, hunting for the larders and getting the lay of the land."

"You brainless oaf," Gryff Whitehill shot back in a disturbingly loud and mocking tone. "That ain't a ship and this ain't the beach!"

"Quiet!" more than one man hissed, having seen the two white knights below jolt and start looking about.

But it was too late! One of the strange knights looked towards the hill and spotted the collection of guardsmen huddled lowly along its crest among the foliage and bushes. Immediately, the man jumped to his feet and pulled out the black thing that he wore at his side. His partner was just a moment behind him, standing and sliding into a kneeling position as he too pulled out his weapon.

"Contact!" the knight who'd spotted them shouted. His voice was strange, muffled and distorted with some kind of clicking noise before and after he spoke. But Robb wasn't given the chance to really think about that oddity as the knight continued speaking. "I say again! Contact! Locals along the east flank! 100 meters from the Chimaera!"

Movement behind the men caught Robb's eye. Somehow, despite the knight not having yelled nearly loud out, there was a sudden flurry of activity from the clearing. He could see more armored knights and even a few men dressed in fancy tunics running around in seemingly the general direction towards them.

"So much for discretion," Helman Tallhart muttered quietly.

Jory and father shared a look before guard captain stood to his feet, hand on his sword and a shield on his arm. Climbing over the fallen tree, he called out, "Peace! Peace! Who are you, men?"

"Halt!" the two knights demanded in commanding tones. "Don't move, savage!"

Robb's frown deepened. These men were clearly being very hostile, but why? Jory seemed to pick up on this too as his approach slowed. But he didn't stop. "I ask again, men! Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I said halt!" the same knight shot back in an even more threatening tone. Hefting up his weapon more securely against his shoulder. The way he was holding it reminded Robb strongly of a crossbow. But this weapon didn't have the bow arms or even a bowstring. Curious. "This entire area is restricted!"

"Restricted?" Jory repeated, finally coming to a halt out of confusion. Robb couldn't see his face, but he'd be willing to bet that his brow was quirked. "What are you talking about? This is the wolfswood, part of the lands of—"

"It belongs to the Empire now!" the second knight interrupted. Then the man glanced to his partner. "ST-773, orders just came in. Engage and detain. We need some workers." The implication of what 'workers' meant was lost on none of the watching and eavesdropping northerners.

"Roger!" The two men raised the ends of their weapons and squeezed the small triggers.

In a burst of loud noise, a short bolt of red lightning emerged from both weapons and rapidly rushed towards Jory. In a display of remarkable reflexes, Jory was able to bring up his shield into a protective posture over his torso while crouching down. But despite his fast reflexes, when the two red lightning bolts struck his shield, the power behind them was enough to knock the young man back and off his feet with a cry of pain. Robb had just enough time to see two red-hot glowing spots on the metal of Jory's shield before the two knights began blasting more of the bolts up towards the top of the hill.

"Jory!" someone yelled, maybe himself, as fear began to consume the armsmen. Robb kept his head low as he glanced over the tree towards the captain of the guard. The man was still moving, but moaning in pain and disorientation. A red bolt struck the tree barely a hand's length away from where Robb's face, sending up a burst of sparks, fire, and wooden shrapnel. Thankfully, Robb wasn't hurt, but he was startled enough to jerk his head back down and hide for a moment. In doing so, he made sure to unsheathe his sword and pull his shield up his arm.

Glancing around, he saw some of the armsmen already fleeing back down the hill and towards their waiting horses. As much as he wanted to curse the men for their cowardice, Robb couldn't really blame them. Looking around, he felt no small amount of relief as he spotted his father nearby, as well as Jon. "We're up against sorcerers! Aren't we?!"

"It would appear so," father answered, glaring over the tree briefly before suddenly pulling his head down as several red bolts shooting through where he'd been moments ago.

"Let's see if they bleed like normal men!" Theon shouted from the side with an arrow already notched on his bow. Thanks to him being somewhat hidden behind a standing tree, he went unnoticed by the two attacking knights until it was too late. Theon had always been an expert marksman with a bow, and he proved that yet again as his arrow lodged itself into one of the knight's unarmored necks.

The man went down with a gurgled cry, dropping his weapon as one of his hands went to his wound. The unexpected attack caught the second knight by surprise as demonstrated when he looked sharply down at his partner. Whatever the man was thinking would never be known as Theon quickly put an arrow into him as well, not missing such a good opening.

"Jory!" his father called out as he jumped over the tree to rush to his man. Robb was quickly after his father, keeping his shield up as he watched the trees further beyond the dale. What had happened to those other white knights he'd glimpsed over there a moment ago? His father paid that no mind as he helped Jory sit up and began examining his wounds. Thankfully, the man didn't seem too hurt, just winded from his fall and his shield arm was slightly burned from where one of the red bolts had struck and partially melted the metal of the shield.

"L-Lord Stark, those l-lightning bolts are dangerous," Jory reported, still wheezing slightly. "We need plate-armored men."

"Aye," father acknowledged, grabbing Jory by his upper arm and helping him to his feet. "But first, we need to fallback and regroup our men."

"Lord Stark, do you hear that?!" Jon called from where he stood upon the fallen tree. He must've been using the elevation to try and see more of what's going on.

Falling silent, the three men listened carefully. Aside from the clamor of the men trying to run away, the normal forest sounds had been sharply muted the closer they'd gotten to this burnt-out portion of the woodland. So, the loud clanging and thumping noises from further ahead, as well as some loud and fast-moving buzzing noises, were clearly audible. Looking off in the direction that the noise was emanating from, Robb and the others all gawked openly for a moment at what they saw. Several metal carriages shaped vaguely like wheelhouses that were floating above the ground and didn't seem to need any beast of burden to pull them that dozens of men disgorged from quickly. A large, metallic monstrosity that seemed to only have a large blocky head and two spindly legs marching through the woodlands at speeds greater than what any horse could run at. But that monster's speed didn't even compare to the metallic constructs that more of the white knights were riding on, zipping and dashing through the trees so fast that they seemed like buzzing arrows.

"By the gods," Robb breathed out, gripping his sword and shield tighter.

"What manner of men are we dealing with here?" Jon said, echoing his own thoughts.

That was when the large metal monster began shooting even larger red bolts towards the panicking horses and armsmen. The first impact of those large bolts that occurred amongst the grouping of men and beast told Robb exactly how dangerous those things were. Men and horse alike went flying through the air, misshapen and burnt from the fire and the force of the blasts. Some men got struck full on by those bolts and fell to the ground, instantly dead.

"Form up!" his father bellowed, his commanding voice somehow carrying over the din of the explosions and panicking man and beast. "Everyone form up!" His father blazed back down the hill, sword drawn and shield raised with his sons right behind him.

Eddard grimly made sure to keep his two sons firmly within his view. This would be their first true battle with a very real chance of death. Hopefully, his sons would learn some valuable lessons from this conflict. But he quickly shoved those idle thoughts aside as he refocused his attention on leading and defending his men and sons.

Ten minutes later…

What followed was perhaps the most bizarre battle that had ever occurred in Westerosi history. Wait, no, calling it a 'battle' would be a misrepresentation of what it actually was. Battles and even skirmishes were fought with at least two opposing sides in a conflict where each possess its own unique strengths, with a goal in mind, likely sharing losses on both sides, which each side having a moderately fair chance of victory over the other. It would've been more appropriate to call the ensuing chaos a complete defeat. The white armored knights and their fine-clothed companions greatly outnumbered the northerners by at least three to one, all of them wielding weapons that shot red bolts of death. In short order, the invaders had utterly encircled the northerners.

Any of the armsmen who'd been able to mount a horse and tried to flee were quickly and easily outpaced by the far, far faster devices that were zipping through woodlands around them. Any man who tried to charge forward and engage the knights in close combat were quickly shot by numerous red bolts and dropped dead before he even came close to them. And none of the opposing knights tried to close the distance either, apparently content to hide behind trees and rocks and shoot their magic from afar, like cowards. This cowardice really angered Robb as it went against so many customs and beliefs that he grew up with. Warriors and knights were meant to fight one another face to face as equals on the battlefield! Those who avoided that, that preferred to snipe and kill their enemies from afar by preference were dishonorable. Yes, archers and long-ranged warfare were a part of every battle, but in a situation and with terrain like this?!

Despite his anger, Robb had seen what was happening around him. These knights were trying to thin the herd, weeding out those too aggressive or stupid. But at the same time, Robb also realized that for as many of the knights as there were, they didn't seem to bother being all that accurate with their shots. One bolt in the right place could kill a man and these knights outnumbered them greatly, so why weren't there more dead bannermen?

'We need some workers.' Eyes widening as he suddenly struck by inspiration, Robb dropped his shield and sheathed his sword. "Stand down! Everyone! Stand down!"

Father looked sharply over at him before hurriedly raising his shield and protecting himself from yet another bolt that had been fired at him. "What're you thinking, Robb?"

"They want us as prisoners!" Robb yelled out, speaking more to the surrounding men than his father at this point. "If we surrender, they might just take us captive without killing us!"

"Weapons down!" Jon yelled agreeably from where he was standing, likely already picking up on Robb's thought process. "Weapons down!"

After that, it was a tense and humiliating ordeal. Upon seeing the northerners dropping their weapons, the knights went about collecting them and marshalling the northerners into a column, marching them through the woodlands. Apparently, the knights must've picked up on the fact that father and he were important as they'd made sure lock their hands with some strangely shaped but very strong shackles, pulling them out of the column.

Finally breaking through the trees and into the blinding sunlight overhead, Robb, Theon, Lord Stark, and all of the other northerners were able to fully see the monstrously sized structure in its entirety. The structure was clearly heavily damaged, charred black and warped in places along its metallic walls. It looked like it was shaped in the general design of a spearhead, resting heavily at an angle to one side. Robb couldn't quite see the castle-like portion that he'd glimpsed days ago when it fell from the sky, but he could definitely tell that a large portion of it had been broken off and smashed when it impacted. The front portion of the structure was also smashed and shattered, great gashes and tears in the metal running along it's length. Underneath the upraised portion of the structure's belly, he could see a large hole that led to the interior of it. There also seemed to be some crude ladders and ramps leading up to that hole, which had even more of the knights were descending down from.

There was a path from those ramps off to the side where a large clearing had been cut and burned clear from the woodlands near the large opening of the structure. In this massive clearing, there was a massive collection of containers, barrels, and boxes were stacked in a haphazard manner with a large number of buildings with a low wall encircling them and being patrolled by guards. The buildings were all of near-identical architecture that looked like absolutely nothing that could be made by man. And in one very large area, there were some especially strange metal structures. Some of them looked like those floating carriages from the forest. But the largest of those metal structures were the seven strange things nestled around the large stockpile. They were vaguely shaped like a bird, complete with large wing-like limbs folded upwards, head-like sections protruding forwards, and beak-like ramps that were lowered to the ground with many of the men loading the large containers inside. Robb could also see about two more of those spindly-legged walking things which were pacing around the woodlands outside the walled area. And it was an area that Robb and his father just so happened to be being taken.

But the thing that caught his attention the most were the bodies. The entire ground surrounding the massive structure was positively covered in many thousands, if not literally tens of thousands, of dead bodies stacked and tossed into large piles everywhere! Most of the bodies were of men who wore the fine tunic uniforms with a comparatively smaller number of the dead men in armor. Now that he had a chance to really take in the uniforms, most of the tunic-clad men wore identical clothing like their armored compatriots, though the colors shifted from cream to white to gray to black for seemingly no reason that Robb could discern. Sadly, these bodies were pretty old, easily more than 10 days. He could tell because the smell of death hung heavily in the air with clouds of flies and crows were having a great feast on all of the rotting flesh. The sight was so gruesome and unexpected that Robb actually came to a stop as he stared, gawking in horror, disgust, and confusion at everything he was seeing.

"Keep moving!" the knight behind him barked, pushing Robb forward roughly and nearly sending him to the ground. Despite stumbling, Robb managed to catch himself, shooting the man a dark look. But he was quickly forced to look away as the knight levelled his weapon upon him threateningly.

Scowling darkly, Robb nonetheless turned and kept walking forward, carefully stepping over the many bodies. It seemed that the survivors of the crash had been more focused on clearing out their many dead from the metal fortress rather than trying to bury or burn them or whatever they did with their dead. And given the increasing numbers that he could see as he and his father were wading through, they'd been doing this for a while. Off to the side, Robb could see that the other northerners were being led towards the big hole in the castle. 'They must really want to put us to work right away,' Robb couldn't help thinking bitterly.

He caught his lord father's gaze for a moment. Much to Robb's surprise though, his father didn't seem nearly as upset as he might've thought he'd be. His father glanced upwards in a beckoning gesture before returning his attention to his footing. Curious, Robb glanced upwards as discreetly as he could. Looking around carefully, he finally noticed something…out of place. Focusing in on it, he saw that it was a small patch of color that didn't belong there. A splash of orange hidden within the grey and black shadows of a metal tower of some kind.

That's when he suddenly felt his body shiver and tingle. 'The wolfsblood! Again?!' Robb realized before he sharpened his gaze further, gazing searchingly at that splash of orange. Then, to his surprise and confusion, the patch of orange shifted and moved, drawing deeper into the darkness. 'What's going on up there?' He wasn't given long to think on it as his attention was soon brought back to the present.

"And just who are you?" a snide voice demanded as Robb and Eddard were pulled to a halt. The man before them had a contemptuous look on his pale face, dark eyes gazing uninterestedly out from under a small cap that was nestled snugly upon his very close-cut hair. The uniform the man wore consisted of a double-breasted tunic with a round collar and matching trousers, a pair of black boots, and thick black leather belt. There was some kind of decoration hanging over the man's left breast, but Robb had no idea of its significance.

Rather than waiting for either Eddard or Robb to answer, the man shot the two knights behind them a displeased look. "Sergeant, why have you brought a couple of brainless savages to me? Put them to work with the rest!"

"Sorry, sir," the knight behind Eddard answered instantly. "But these two seemed to be the leaders of the horde who attacked us!"

"Attacked you?!" Robb couldn't stop himself from repeating in sheer disbelief. "You attacked us!"

"Quiet, brat!" the other knight snapped as he hit Robb in the back of his head with the butt of his weapon. In a daze of pain, Robb collapsed to his knees. Thankfully, he managed to salvage a small shred of his pride and not try to reach up for his throbbing head.

"Enough, Private," the leader said dismissively, gazing at the knight sternly before shifting a condescending glance upon Robb's kneeling form. After a moment, he looked back up to meet Eddard's cold and angry gaze with an equally cold one. "I am Lieutenant Geralt Syn of the Galactic Empire, and presently the highest-ranking Imperial officer of this ship, the Chimaera. Who are you?"

'Ship?!' both Starks echoed in their minds, looking up at the metal monstrosity momentarily. But Eddard quickly shook his erratic thoughts free and answered with all the solemn dignity he could muster. "I am Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Why have—?"

"Warden of the North?" Syn interrupted, his previously condescending expression changing slightly into something a bit more dangerous as his interest was piqued. "I take that to mean that you rule these lands then?"

"In the name of the King, yes," Eddard answered slowly, his gaze narrowing as he quickly literally saw the strange man's thought processes. He had the look of a man who'd just discovered a cache of gold dragons hidden among random junk. And, judging from the way his eyes started bouncing between him and son, Eddard could see that he'd also made the familial connection between them as well. Rather than let the man finish his thoughts, Eddard continued his earlier question, "Why have you invaded the North?"

Snorting as a superior grin spread across his thin face. He didn't answer immediately, instead moving over to one of the crates and reaching into it. "Ahh, but we haven't invaded. Upon our arrival, we have laid claim to all of these lands in the name of the Galactic Empire. You should be overjoyed, Mr. Stark. Once the rest of our forces arrive, the Empire shall finally bring some much-needed civilization and industry to this worthless planet of yours."

By the time he'd finished speaking, he'd found what he was searching for in the crate and handed it over to one of the armored knights. The knight apparently knew what to do with it as he immediately knelt down next to Robb. It took just a moment before the knight stood up, pulling Robb to his feet with him. Though they weren't sure exactly what it did, both Starks knew a slave collar when they saw one. Eddard quickly forced himself to shift his attention back onto the officer in front of him with an angry scowl. "The North has only knelt to the Targaryeons after they'd promised us our freedom, peace, and unity. You come to us with fire and sorcery while promising only to steal our homes and enslave my people against our wills. We will never kneel to you."

"Unfortunately for you," Lieutenant Syn countered as he plucked something from one of the pouches on his belt and held it out, letting both of them see what it was. Some kind of strange metallic device the general shape of a dagger hilt with some kind of glowing red crystal on the top. Syn ran his thumb lightly atop the red crystal as he continued, "Your compliance is not required."

The moment that Syn pressed that crystal down Robb let loose a loud, pained yell. Eddard's eyes instantly shot to his son and spotted something bewildering and horrific. Blue crystals shining like stars from the collar that Robb had been shackled with were surging with lightning springing out them, lancing and dancing about the iron mail he wore as his body was covered in it. Robb was understandably screaming in agony as the lightning coursed over and through his body mercilessly. With a cry of distress, Eddard reflexively lunged forward to try and pry the accursed thing off his son. But with his hands shackled, it was embarrassingly easy for the knight behind him to kick his knees out from behind him and hold him in pace. Despite struggling with all of his considerable might, Eddard was forced to watch as his son was tortured before his eyes. After only a few moments, though they seemed far longer than that, the lights of the crystals on the collar died down and the lightning vanished. Robb collapsed limply to the ground, convulsing slightly from random jolts as he moaned in pain.

"And that is only a small taste of what disobedience to your new Empire will afford you," Lieutenant Syn stated, a sinister grin spreading across his face as he saw Eddard shoot him a truly murderous glare. "And don't think that we'll only to have this boy wear that. All of you will be outfitted with shock collars. So, you really only have two choices, Mr. Stark: submit or die." Turning his attention back to the two knights behind the captive Starks, Syn said, "Take them back to the rest of the prisoners. I'm sure the 'Warden' will be informing our new subjects shortly of the consequences of disobedience."

"Yes, sir!" both knights answered immediately.

Despite still moaning in pain, Robb was able to keep his feet under him as the pair of them were pulled roughly back upright and pushed towards where the mass of captive men were being held. But Eddard had most of his attention on his son, staring at him from the corner of his eye. "You okay, son?"

"Y-Yeah," the boy stammered out, pain still evident in his voice. "But it…leaves a burn…in the body…"

'Yes, they don't want their slaves too badly injured or they can't work as well,' Eddard realized bitterly. It was then that both father and son felt that familiar tingling sensation course through their bodies, but stronger this time. There was a feeling of…anticipation in the air. 'Something's…about to happen.'

This time, because the feeling was so strong, they could actually get a general sense of where it was coming from. As the two knights behind them shoved them onwards once again, they both shot inquisitive stares over towards the large stockpile of crates and supplies several hundred meters away. Whatever they were feeling now was coming from over there. But what was—?

Like a flash of lightning shooting through the sky, a powerful force of fire, smoke, and noise burst to life among those crates. So loud, so bright, and so fast were these forces that the hundred or so knights and Imperial armsmen surrounding and guarding it were completely consumed by it within an instant, disappearing from sight amongst the fiery maelstrom. The two knights behind Eddard and Robb were both knocked off their feet as a powerful but invisible force washed over the group. Eddard and Robb only managed to remain standing simply because they'd been somewhat prepared for something to happen.

As the noise level died down, alarms and chaos started to spread among the Imperials. To their credit, Eddard would admit that they were quite well-trained, with the knights immediately drawing their weapons and turning towards or rushing for the explosion. The other armsmen hurried into defensive groups as they scanned the trees for any attackers. As that was happening, a tower hanging from the belly of the metal monstrosity suddenly turned and started raining massive bolts of red lightning down upon the Imperials. Specifically, the tower was clearly targeting the large bird-like structures, blowing them into piles of burning metal swiftly, before swiveling towards the three approaching spindly-legged walkers and the floating carriages.

As this unexpected attack was going on, the captive northerners saw their chance and pounced on it mercilessly. They bodily tackled their nearest captors, stealing back their weapons or grabbing the Imperials' weapons. Robb and Eddard did much the same thing. Robb spun and kicked the knight behind him, knocking him to the ground and began trying to punch and hammer the man senseless. A feat that was rather hard to do, given his helmet. By contrast, Eddard had lunged forward and grabbed his captor around the neck, quickly snapping it before the man could retaliate. Dropping the knight, Eddard turned just in time to see Robb knocked off the knight as the man recovered from his surprise. Before the knight could act further, however, Eddard was there. One strong kick to the man's throat put him down for good. Rolling across the ground, Robb froze up momentarily as he saw what his father had done and couldn't stop from watching as the man gagged and suffocated to death from the injury.

Eddard didn't idle, instead he crouched down and grabbed at the knights' strange weapons. Remembering how they'd held them, it didn't take him long to figure out that squeezing the small lever caused a red bolt to fire out. Taking the awkward object, he grabbed his son by his shoulder as he yelled out over the din, "Robb! Wake up! We're in battle now!"

"R-Right!" Robb stammered out, forcefully shaking himself of the fear he was feeling, pushing it down and trying his best to ignore it.

Holding up the strange weapon, Eddard angled it as he placed the center point of his son's shackles over the muzzle. "This might hurt! Brace yourself!" A split second later, with a loud cry of tortured steel, Robb's shackles broke apart. Despite crying out slightly in fright and surprise, Robb quickly recovered and repeated the gesture for Eddard.

"Hold it right there!" a harsh voice yelled from nearby, causing father and son to freeze up as they glanced to the side. A trio of tunic soldiers stood there, weapons out and with grim disgust on their faces.

Before either Stark could reply or act, an explosion went off nearby. The sudden noise and force cause everyone to crouch down and jostle in surprise. Eddard saw his chance and instantly leapt forward before the soldiers could recollect themselves. Springing forward, he swept his arms to the side and landed a pair of lariats to the throats of two of them. Both of them went down hard, not dead or gagging but certainly out of the fight. As the third soldier was recoiling, clearly taken by surprise at Lord Stark's speed and struggling to bring his weapon to bear, Robb brought up the weapon he still held and squeezed the trigger. A red bolt shot out and struck the man full on in his torso. He dropped dead to the ground like a sack of wheat.

For just a second, Robb stared at what he'd done with wide eyes. But after a split moment, his eyes met Eddard's and his father nodded with grim approval and support. That small acknowledge from the man he so looked up to all his life was all Robb needed to really start collecting himself. So, with a determined frown, he moved forward to join his father as he rushed back to rejoin the northern forces.

"What's going on?!" Lieutenant Syn was yelling into his comm. "Who's in control of that cannon turret?! Shut it down this instant!"

"Sir, this is RG-331!" a stormtrooper voice answered. "I have eyes on the turret! It's the—ARGH~zzzckt!" The voice was abruptly silenced as the turret's latest blast blew apart the last scout walker.

"Dammit," Syn cursed heatedly to himself before yelling into his comlink. "WILL SOMEONE SHUT THAT TURRET DOWN! WE CAN'T LOSE ANYMORE SUPPLIES!"

"Lieutenant! The savages are rising up!" another voice cried out. "They're fighting back!"

"Blast it all," Syn snarled. "Fine! Kill them all! We don't need them!"

The Lieutenant was nestled in the makeshift command center that the Imperial survivors had built upon their arrival here. As he'd told the barbarian earlier, he was the only officer of any rank presently still present on the crash site. Given the terribly wretched state that the Star Destroyer presently was in, the Grand Admiral had decided that they needed a more secure base of operations for their stay on this backwater world. The Admiral had taken the most elite troopers and surviving officers with him as they went off to seize a structure worthy of the Empire. And Lieutenant Syn had been put in charge and made responsible for safeguarding the precious supplies. Supplies that included explosives, basic engineering and mechanical equipment, field medpacks and medicine, food rations, fuel and power packs, and the few operable vehicles that'd survived the impact. He was responsible for leading the 5,200 surviving Imperials that remained on this site with protecting, loading, and transporting all of that to the new base of operations that'd been chosen. If he failed, he knew the Grand Admiral would be quite displeased with him.

Needless the say, the stress of the situation was weighing on him. It was making him irritable and paranoid. There was something wrong with this world. There was something evil lurking in those woodlands that encircled them. And he was frantic to depart these accursed and frigid lands as quickly as possible. He wouldn't feel safe until he was back in hyperspace and parsecs away from this planet! Now, if only the ignorant savages that occupied this world would cooperate with his efforts of accelerating their departure!

Outside the little command center, Syn could hear the din of the escalating chaos. The cracks and bolts of blasterfire, the quiet explosions of grenades, the roar of the savages as they fought back, the ponderous puffs as the turret overhead continued firing upon the Imperials, and the clamor and cries of men dying. How he wished he had a functioning holo-display so that he could monitor and more easily control the flow of battle! Fighting blind like this was annoying and jarring for a man who was accustomed to the luxuries of modern warfare.

"This is LT-7734!" a voice called out over the comlink racket of the other troopers who were asking and barking orders. "Targeting the turret! Scatter and take cover!"

A few seconds later, the familiar shrieking cry of a missile being fired and flying through the air pierced over the battlefield. For just those precious seconds, the firefight and melee that had started came to a brief end as everyone looked upwards. Lieutenant Syn himself hurriedly left the command center to watch, catching the tail end of the rocket's journey as it arced unerringly towards the rogue turret. But just before the impact, he glimpsed something leaping away from behind it. The rocket impacted the turret, which instantly erupted into a conflagration of fire and debris. But what he and many others watched was the descending humanoid figure that had escaped the destruction. Impossibly, as the orange-clad figure held out his hand towards the rapidly approaching ground, it's fall slowed tremendously. It was when he saw the shining blue blade of a lightsaber springing to life in the figure's other hand that Syn realized just what and who that person was.

"It's the Jedi!" someone yelled. "Fire! Fire on the primary target!"

Almost immediately, all nearby Imperial forces raised their blasters towards the traitor and tried to open fire. However, the Jedi proved too fast and too skilled, dancing and bouncing about he did dodged or deflected the blasterfire. Not to be outdone, the savages saw the opportunity with the troopers all being distracted by the Jedi and immediately renewed their melee.

"Will someone just kill the Jedi already?!" Syn yelled into his comlink, glaring hatefully over at the Empire's nemesis. "150,000 credits to the man who kills the Jedi!"

"Sir?" a random voice from nearby called. "SIR?!"

"WHAT?!" Syn yelled, not taking his gaze off the Jedi. Too busy glaring hatefully as the Jedi continued to somehow live and fight back. 'Why can't he just DIE already?!'

"Do you hear that?!" the same voice called. "Something's coming!"

"Wh-What?!" Prying his eyes off the Jedi, Syn glared over at the techie who'd spoken. "What are you talking about?!"

The techie didn't need to explain. For at the very next instant, a deep horn sounded from off to the side as the thunder of hooves filled the air. Looking over to the source of the noise, Syn and every Imperial present gasped in surprise at what they saw. Armored cavalry and men charging forward along the length of the destroyed section of woodlands behind the Star Destroyer, aiming straight for the battle site with spears and lances down and at the ready, or with swords or hammers or axes drawn. Fluttering proudly and most prominently overhead of the cavalry and worn upon numerous members of the soldiers was a banner of a silver fist on a field of red. What that sigil meant, Syn didn't know. But he could see that they were only a few hundred meters away and closing fast! How did they manage to close so quickly? And where'd they come from to begin with?!

The savages in the melee let out a deafening cheer as their fighting spirits were reinvigorated. Due to this renewal of spirit, they lashed out with almost reckless abandon, forcing the Imperials nearby to have to focus their attentions on the more immediate threats rather than bringing their fire down upon the beasts that were rushing them. Syn could only watch in horror as the cavalry smashed into his forces, trampling or cutting down his troopers with surprising precision.

"This isn't possible!" Syn stated in disbelief. "How can such an archaic thing as a cavalry charge break the Empire?!" It didn't make sense! It broke so many conventions of modern warfare and battle that he'd grown up learning. Cavalry hadn't been used by the wider galaxy for at least 20,000 years or more! They had elevated themselves far beyond that point. That charge should've been blown to pieces within just a few moments of it starting! Why…? How…?! IT DIDN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!

Too late did Syn realize that he'd left himself exposed and vulnerable as he watched the battle swing to favor the savages. The cavalry were circling around, breaking into smaller units. Some had continued onwards and were aiming for the Imperial camp. Numerous others were wheeling around to return to the melee. And other still were circling around to fire arrows from horseback into the melee, picking off any troopers who were trying to coordinate into a firing squad. It was absolute mayhem that the Imperials were rapidly being overrun by. In fact, he could even see many of the troopers starting to drop their blasters and fall to their knees in surrender! 'TREACHEROUS COWARDS!'

But the thing that really drew his attention was the sight of the Jedi leaping through the air, arcing towards him with his lightsaber at the ready! With a loud cry, Syn grabbed his pistol and opened fire on the descending traitor. Somehow, the Jedi was able to angle his blade just enough to not only deflect but reflect the blasterbolt straight back at him. Syn couldn't react fast enough to dodge as his own shot hit his blaster pistol just above his hand. The force of the impact knocked the weapon from his hand and the superheated plasma of the shot momentarily scorched the top of his hand, causing him to cry out in pain as he stumbled back.

He managed to recollect himself just in time to see the Jedi land before him, blade point dangerously close to his chin. Looking down the length of the blade as he tried to back away, he was finally able to see the Jedi's features. It was a young man, scarcely older than 18, with very short hair that was so dark it almost looked blue in the sunlight. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he glared at Syn.

"Hello, Lieutenant," the Jedi said almost pleasantly. "You've got two choices right now. One: call off your men and surrender. Or two: fight to the end and die. I would recommend the first choice because I'm pretty sure the natives here will be pretty likely to want to kill all of you the longer you fight."

"The Empire—!"

"—Is not here!" the Jedi interrupted, bringing the tip of his saber to within just a few scant hairs' length away from his jaw. "They can't save you and your men. Only you can do that. Do you really want to die here and now?"

For several long moments, Syn just faltered hesitantly in his decision. His academy training was screaming at him to continue the fight, to kill this rebel, to subjugate and educate this backwater planet. But cold logic was whispering treasonous words into his ear. Reminding him of where he was, why he and his forces were likely doomed to die very shortly from now, and the fact that the Grand Admiral was still nearby. That the Grand Admiral would undoubtedly come back for his loyal and surviving men once this disaster reached his ears.

Slowly, awkwardly, Syn brought his comlink to his lips as he continued glaring hatefully at his enemy. "All forces! Stand down! I repeat: stand down! Let the savages have this small victory."

The Jedi immediately withdrew his blade, deactivating it as a small but smug grin slid across his face. "See? Was that so hard?"

Syn didn't bother answering, just snarling as he raised his hands to his head and was guided by the Jedi towards the rest of his surrendering men.

Elsewhere nearby…

"Galbart, I can honestly say I've never been so happy to see you before!" Eddard said in greeting as his vassal lord dismounted from his horse before him.

"Aye, glad I made it in time," Galbart Glover stated evenly as he turned and gave a small bow to his liege lord. "We'd heard strange noises and fighting nearby and followed as best we could. I just wish we'd arrived sooner."

"My lord, we've got a problem here," a bannerman called from nearby.

Turning, the two lords saw what the 'problem' was easily enough. It was the same orange-clad man who'd been responsible for controlling the tower and attacking the knights. The young man was marshaling easily a score of knights towards the rest of the kneeling ones. But what really caught everyone's attention was the glowing blue sword he held in his hand and was pointing warningly at the knights. None of the enemy knights or the young man seemed to pay the staring northerners any mind as the new prisoners joined their companions in kneeling and being disarmed of all weapons and whatever other strange objects and trinkets they possessed.

All except for one man who Eddard recognized instantly as the 'Lieutenant Syn' from earlier. The man was glaring defiantly at Lord Stark as the young man brought him to a halt before him. Then the young man stepped to the side as his strangely humming sword gave off the hiss of quenching steel as the blade seemed to be sucked into the hilt. The young man was grinning good-naturedly at the slightly gawking northern lords as he clipped the hilt upon his belt absentmindedly. "I believe you two have met?"

"Indeed, we have," Lord Stark said, quickly recovering himself and turning a cold gaze upon Syn. "Now, as you and your men are clearly strangers to our Realm, allow me to give a brief explanation of your crimes and what your punishments will likely entail."

"Do as you wish, savage," Syn snapped angrily. "But I can promise you this. Your 'victory' today will not be repeated. The Empire will come! And you will know the true meaning of terror when they do."

"We shall see," Eddard countered softly. Then his gaze shifted to the young man with the glowing sword. "And who are you?"

"Ezra Bridger," the young man stated easily. "And I'm a Jedi Knight."

(Author's Note) Heh, you know, I honestly can't believe I didn't try to write something like this sooner. There are some pretty strong similarities between ASoI&F and Star Wars, especially their magic systems. Plus, am I the only one who saw the loth-wolves resemblance to the direwolves of the Starks?

Before I go any further, a big time shout-out to ffdrake for helping me come up with this concept, as well as helping me to proofread it. Also, here's a little surprise for you all about ffdrake. He's actually working on his own Star Wars x Game of Thrones story too! So, if you happen to see any ideas, actions, or themes that are similar between this story and his, that's because we're collaborating with each other as brainstormers and beta-readers.

Also, for those of you who care, I'm basing a large part of this story off of the original books, NOT the pisspot that is the tv show. Also, I'm going to use Shadiversity's version of Winterfell. It's an incredible and far more logical design of the castle than what's used in the tv show. I definitely recommend you all check out that movie he made! Link is posted below.

www youtube com/watch?v=dZdbpfcxfSk

Major Character Ages in 295 AC
Ezra Bridger: 19

Eddard Stark: 32
Catelyn Stark: 31
Jon Snow: 12
Robb Stark: 12
Sansa Stark: 9
Arya Stark: 6
Brandon Stark: 5
Rickon Stark: 1 month old

Theon Greyjoy: 15