Rae was growing more and more uneasy.

It had been well over a year since her mission began, and all she'd been finding was worlds of ice and abandoned, ruined towns and villages.

Only ghosts.

It was clear to her that the White Walkers were swiftly gaining ground, but how they were doing this was still very much a mystery. There were no hyperspace wakes, no gravitational disturbances that would indicate the movement of large fleets, and no sign of landing craft. All that remained were the howling winds of winter.

Currently, she was sitting in her office in the forward operating base they had established, the air conditioner on full blast due to the sweltering heat and humidity on this high summer day in the plains that surrounded them. She looked at her chronometer and groaned. It was only a bit past noon, and the hottest part of the day was still to come.

So far, for the past few months, her men had done little but patrol, drill, and repeat. Every square kilometer of this planet had been mapped out, and every section of the space around it had been charted. Outposts had been established on the smaller worlds and moons around them, each sending back the same reports of an eerie quiet, day in and out.

A part of her yearned for action like a foolhardy cadet or an arrogant young officer. She knew her men were getting restless and impatient, and she could not blame them for that. She had a mind herself to find something to do to get out of the boredom and monotony.

And as omen would have it, that something would be heralded in the form of a lone speeder, zipping towards the base at top speed as if running from the devil himself. The speeder pulled up to the headquarters, and the scout trooper quickly hopped off, not bothering with the proper protocol as she shoved the stormtrooper posted on guard aside and barged into the building.

"Where is the Admiral?" she asked in desperation. "I need to see her! It's urgent! Please!"

Rae heard the commotion and rushed outside her office to see the scout trooper with her visor flipped up, her green eyes wide with terror, and her entire body shaking with fright.

"Jayne?" asked Rae as she came closer, "Private Reynolds? What's going on? TN-757, answer me, damn it!" she yelled, shaking her shoulders to get Jayne out of her terrified stupor.

"They're...they're coming...ma'am…" the younger woman managed to get out. "Thousands upon thousands of them...all shrieking and hacking and biting… the other scout trooper I was with… they...they got him…"

It dawned on Rae what she meant, and a dread overtook her as she stared at Jayne. "Reynolds, return to your fireteam. Get armed and ready," she commanded before rushing to find the chief meteorologist, who happened to also be rushing to find her, as it turned out.

"Ma'am," he said with an audible tone of worry in his voice," you need to see this…" he spoke, giving her his datapad which had radar data displayed. On the radar map, she could see all was normal for summer conditions this time of year, except for one, very horrifying thing – a large splotch of blue of varying shades, moving right towards them in defiance of the prevailing wind and climate.

And it was moving at the pace an army on foot would move at and be only ten kilometers out.

She shoved the pad back into the scientist's hands, and quickly fumbled around trying to find her comm device before she picked it up out of her pocket and keyed it in.

"Attention all base personnel. This is the admiral. We are general quarters. I say again, sound general quarters," she spoke into it and sprinted to her quarters to get her armor on as the klaxon alarm sounded throughout the base and troopers rushed to their positions or manned their vehicles.

As soon as she got her armor on and her helmet strapped, she grabbed her sidearm and walked briskly out the door into the open ground in the middle of the base. She made her way to the walls surrounding the structure and ascended the staircase near the gate that led to the only slope one could walk comfortably on, all the while trying to ignore the rapidly dropping temperature. When she looked out beyond the battlements, she saw a wicked cloud of greyish-white steadily approaching their positions, and even though it was still kilometers away, she thought she could hear the sounds of shrieking, hissing, and even more disturbing laughter that reminded her of ice being thrown on a frozen lake.

"Good gods, what the hell is that?" one trooper asked.

"It's the middle of summer here. Why is there a damned blizzard approaching?" another wondered aloud.

Rae then grabbed a pair of electrobinoculars from an aide, and zoomed in on the approaching snowstorm, turning on the thermal imaging setting.

What she saw made her want to scream, though she held her terror down and focused, as she saw a massive blob of green and yellow below the swirling whites and blues, running full tilt, without tiring or stopping.

"Gordon, this is Rae," she spoke hurriedly into her comm device after fumbling it to the right frequency, not even bothering to use proper etiquette in this instance. "We got the motherload of enemies bearing down on us. Prepare for a firing solution. We're also evacuating all non-combat personnel. We gotta buy some time so we can blow this place to hell and get out of here!" she practically yelled.

"Understood, ma'am. Awaiting firing solution and preparing to cover for evacuation. Gordon, out," her subordinate said at the other end.

"Fleet Fire Control, this is Titan-Three, clear net for fire mission. Fire for effect, over," the legion-level forward observer nearest her began speaking into the comms. The chatter went back and forth, with the fister giving grid coordinates and approximate enemy type and size, while the fire control officers confirmed it all and advised to use medium-powered turbo-laser rounds for effect.

Rae heard a booming noise coming from above. She looked overhead and saw bright green streaks of superheated contained plasma bursting through the clouds onto where the pseudo-blizzard was. The ground rumbled as the turbo laser fire pounded the enemy position, blowing huge chunks out of the earth and obliterating all in their way. The bombardment continued for a hot minute, eventually falling silent as the batteries had to recharge their tibanna reserves. The snowstorm stopped moving, and the shrieking of the wind had fallen silent.

Rae sucked in a breath. Did they win? No, they couldn't have, she realized with dread. The snowstorm would have dissipated otherwise. As if to confirm her suspicions, the blizzard began to move once more, faster this time, and the shrieking and cruel laughter became louder, and though she might not be Force-sensitive, she could feel the hope leaving her men.

"Oh gods, what are we going to do?" one trooper wailed.

"They just tanked a bombardment. What chance do we even have?" despaired another.

Rae looked around and took a deep breath. "I'm gonna tell you what we're going to do - we're going to fight these bastards. Hold them off for as long as we can until the non-combat staff can evacuate, then call in fire on top of our positions as we hightail it on the last rides out of here. But we got to make sure we hold them back first!" she cried out. "Once they get in range, give them everything you got and then some. If we fight, we will survive, and if we survive, we will win!" She then got a blaster rifle, signifying that she would not abandon her men to death and enthrallment.

It seems that the men's courage was renewed, as many of them stood with resolution or raised their rifles to the approaching blizzard, which was getting closer, and closer, and closer. Before they knew it, it was upon them, blinding those without thermal visors, as the winds of winter blew so fierce that the Imperial flag was torn off its pole.

And the wights were nearing the front trenches, shrieking and snarling and gnashing, eager for the flesh of the living. Rae would ensure all they would eat was blaster bolts.

"Open fire!" she cried out. The command was repeated down the lines, given across comms, and almost an instant later, her army opened up with everything at their disposal. AT-ATs and AT-STs fired their large cannons, mortars launched round after round, and all manner of blasters lit the space up before them. Soon, the space between the trench and the wights was filled with red fire and smoke. Scores of the undead were being cut down, but scores more were being hit and shrugging off the fire like nothing had happened to them. Soon they reached the front trenches, and Rae was greeted with a horror that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

The wights were diving into the trenches, hacking, and biting and dismembering the troopers within, who screamed in pain and terror as they were being torn to literal shreds and eaten alive. She saw the blood splatter and guts fly everywhere, and she had to will herself to not vomit or soil herself. She then remembered a tactic she read in that book of hers.

"Aim for the head! Aim for their heads!" she cried out. Soon the remaining troopers shifted their aim, and it seemed to be working, as more and more wights were being cut down than were reaching the trenches. Still, though, it seemed the enemy was infinite, and they were beginning to reach the support and communication trenches. It would not be long before they reached the wall and began to scale it.

"Ma'am!" a trooper called out, "last transport for non-combat staff is away! We need to get out of here, now!"

Rae nodded and spoke into her comms. "All stations this net, this is Admirable-One. Be advised, we are pulling back to the ships. Naval artillery will provide cover fire on the previous position, over."

Everyone operating on the battlenet confirmed her orders, and soon a phased retreat had begun, with squads and platoons either falling back to the ships or providing covering fire for their comrades while they ran past them. As the last troopers fell back, the wights reached the gates and started to claw and push at them.

"Ma'am, we need to fall back! The other troopers are at the ships!" a trooper called out to her. Rae had only to take one look over the wall to see that the undead were beginning to form a ladder out of their bodies to agree with the man, and together they began hightailing it out there to the last shuttle.

"Gordon, this is Rae," she exclaimed into the comms device as she heard the shrieking grow closer. "I'm not using etiquette right now because that's gonna take too long. Have the destroyers fire on the base," she ordered as she neared the shuttle with her escort.

"But-"

Rae quickly cut off her subordinate's reply. "Just carry out the fucking order before the rest of us die!" she yelled into the comms as she reached the shuttle, which had its ramp down. She stepped in first as it began taking off, and fell on the deck.

Her stormtrooper escort was not so fortunate.

He grabbed his hand on the ramp, holding on for only a few moments before he slipped and fell into the waiting mass of wights below, and as the ramp closed, Rae swore she could hear his screams of mercy above their guttural screeches.

Then, everything fell silent, with only the rumbling of the shuttle and the distant thud of turbo laser shots pulverizing the base on full power being heard over the eerie quiet. Red emergency lights provided the only source of sight in the hold, making the shuttle feel like a tomb.

And Rae was almost sure it was.

She was not even sure where they were going.

As her fleet had jumped blindly into hyperspace to throw off their pursuers, Rae could not help but obsess over what had just happened. Here were some of the finest soldiers and technology the Empire could offer, and the only thing they had been able to do was slightly slow them down, and those who remained could only watch helplessly as yet another world was lost to the cold winds of winter.

Was there anything different they could have done? She had no obsidian or beskar on hand, and she didn't have anyone who knew how to operate slugthrowers capable of firing such rounds, let alone building them. Even if she had the time for her scientists to conduct a proper geological survey of the entire planet, they would have had to fashion what obsidian they found into spearheads and arrowheads, and ancient closed-order battle tactics were something her troops were NOT suited to.

And there was the matter of just how the enemy got to the planet without any sort of detection. It was as if the Army of the Dead had just teleported to the world, but that was impossible. You needed hyperspace-capable vessels to ferry troops around, and no ships were detected at the start of the engagement.

She downed another gulp of scotch. Normally she would not be one to eschew discipline like this, but after what they had experienced, she wasn't giving a damn anymore. Her shaky hands grabbed the stained flimsiplast document in front of her, and disheveled unfocused eyes tried their best to read once again the after-action report. It did not change a thing.

Of her total contingent of two hundred and sixteen thousand troops, nearly forty thousand were dead, most of whom had been in the trenches trying in vain to fight off the assault of the White Walkers. Twenty percent of her ground strength was just gone like that, and what was worse was that now that the Night King had forty thousand more wights to his army.

She threw down the report and buried her face in her hands, trying and failing to hold back sobs of pain, despair, and failure.

She had failed them, she thought as the sobs wracked her body and the weeping dehydrated her. She failed them, and she did not deserve her rank, station, or command. The only thing she deserved was death.

So busy was she weeping and spiraling into dark thoughts that she did not notice Gordon enter her office. She did not notice his look of grave concern, nor did she hear his footsteps as he came to sit beside her using one of the office chairs. She did notice it however when he started rubbing her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. No words between them were spoken, and none needed to be. Gordon understood her better than anyone else in this damned galaxy, and the look of sympathy and compassion in the old man's eyes reminded her of her grandfather.

They wrapped one another up in a warm embrace, with Rae letting out the last of her sobs, and Gordon comforting her, all the while tears of his own fell down his aged face.

They stayed like that for a long time.

She walked on a grassy field that stretched for miles on end. No mountains were in sight, nor sea or cliff. Only gently rolling steppes with the occasional hill and woodland as far as her eye could see.

She heard a rustling behind her and turned around. Out of the tall grass came two cats, one with blue eyes and the other with brown. The felines regarded her curiously, acting almost as if in perfect unison with one another. Behind them out of the same grass then came something far larger and more fierce. It was a wolf the size of a pony, with fur the colors of steel and silver, and its eyes a gold so piercing it seemed to stab right through her soul.

"The two are one, and the one is two," the same mysterious voice that had been speaking to her for nearly two years now said here. "The promised prince shall reveal themselves soon. The song of ice and fire shall once more be written. But it is not enough. A shield must be paired with the sword, and the dragon must have three heads."

She groggily awoke from the dream and saw darkness all around her. She blinked to get the cobwebs out of her eyes, letting her pupils dilate and adjust to what little light there was in the room. She did not know how or when, but she had ended up in her sleeping quarters on her bed. Across from her, sleeping in her chair, reclined back, was Gordon. She realized that he must have carried her here after she had drifted off to sleep in the office.

She silently thanked him for taking care of her, quietly getting a blanket and covering him up with it. It was the least she could do to repay the favor.

It was then that her comm device started to blink. Curious, she thought. She didn't think anyone would call her at this hour. She walked over and grabbed the device as quietly as she could, then exited the room to not disturb her dear friend. When she was far enough away, she answered the blinking device.

"Sloane here, go ahead," she responded, her voice still strained.

"Ma'am, we just completed our last hyperspace jump, and we…well, we ran into a bit of a…uh…situation," the executive officer at the other end of the line said, his voice lined with uncertain caution.

Rae was once more alert and on edge despite her hangover and tiredness. "What situation?" she demanded.

"I think this is something you gotta see for yourself, admiral," the XO responded. With that, the conversation ended, and Rae double-timed it to the bridge, getting to the turbo-lift and making sure it would take her there as soon as possible.

A few more moments later, she reached the bridge, and before she could even ask what was going on, she saw what was going on…

A massive fleet of ships of various makes and models had surrounded her fleet. Some of these ships were bioorganic in appearance, others were decidedly metallic. They all, however, had Rae and her smaller fleet vastly outgunned and outnumbered.

"Ma'am!" the communications ensign called out, "the lead ship is trying to hail us."

"Put them through on the holoprojector," she commanded, "and let's see just what they want."

"Aye, ma'am," was the response, and as she made her way to the holoprojector in the back, she could not help but notice these vessels had not fired on them, therefore ruling out the White Walkers. No, this had to be the other group she had been assigned to combat, the motley collection of barbarians united under a common cause; the so-called Free Folk.

Making it to the holoprojector, she keyed it in to allow outside communications, and soon it whirred to life, revealing three figures. The lead one was a human man with grey hair that most likely was black at one point. His skin was the shade of olives, and a yellow mark ran across his face. The second one was a Dathomiran female, a stoic expression on her tattooed face and her hair shaved on the sides, with the top being long and swept to one side. The third one was a human female in her thirties with tanned skin, brown eyes, and blonde hair, and her expression spoke of confidence and sacrifice. On each of their belts was carried a lightsaber. Jedi, Rae realized.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here. A small fleet of Imps who've lost their way home. Never thought I'd see the day where they'd be brave or foolish enough to venture this far out here," the man joked. "Judging by the look in your eyes and the way the Force is rolling off you, I'd say you had an encounter with those undead bastards and their demon masters. So, what we're gonna do is this - stand down and come to us for a peaceful negotiation. We're not your enemy. At least, not like the Night King is," he offered.

"And if we refuse your offer?" Rae asked, though she already figured out the answer to that.

"If you try anything stupid, your entire fleet will be wiped out. We don't prefer it, but we'll do what we must to protect our own," the Dathomiran woman answered matter-of-factly.

Rae sighed. "Very well. We'll stand down and I will come over there to talk," she said, knowing that she didn't have much choice in the matter. "Do I have your word that no harm will come to any of us?" she asked the man.

"I swear by my honor and the Force that no harm shall come to you and yours, Admiral," said the man.

"Well, Admiral, seems a feast is in order!" said the younger human woman, mirth sparkling in her earthen eyes. "The Free Folk welcome ya!"

A/N: Done! That wasn't as bad as I thought it was gonna be! I just love a good angsty, hurty, somewhat-comforty chapter, don't you?

So, looks like the Imperials got their asses handed to them by the Army of the Dead. And to make matters more complicated for her, the Free Folk have surrounded them.

Watchers of TCW and Bad Batch will already recognize the leadership of the new Free Folk. To those who don't know….well, I'm not telling you yet! :D

Up next: Pellaeon and Zarha get their first true taste of independent command, Robb does his tactical genius hijinks, and Sabine plans out her campaign against the Saxons. Until next time!