Nashaa KamBuel's Story: Part One
FM/LT Nashaa KamBuel/Omicron 3-3/Wing VIII/ISD Colossus
(jjracz@worldnet.att.net)

Nashaa KamBuel's Story: Chapter One

     It was cold. Very cold. It is said that one truly strong in the Force is not bothered by the outside world. Well perhaps, but Nashaa KamBuel wasn't strong enough yet. The ice-cold winds pummeled him brutally, and the biting cold seeped in through his flight suit and pierced his skin like thousands of tiny needles. Nashaa looked around, but all he could see was snow. Snow, and his wrecked TIE Defender. Brimstone, his pride and joy, was buried a quarter of the way into a snowdrift not 10 feet from Nashaa. Its top wing was completely gone, sheared off by the torrential winds in the atmosphere of this desolate world. Its engines, well, the part he could see looked alright, but Nashaa knew that the real damage lay underneath the snow. He knew the real problem with the ship was the gaping hole in the engine where an A-Wing's concussion missile had detonated. And this was the cause of Nashaa's new problem. How to survive on this harsh world.
     Nashaa looked up. He stretched out with his rudimentary training and felt the area around the world. There, he found them. No fewer than two Calamari Cruisers and three Sacheen-class Escort Carriers, and he was sure there were fighters on each one. Pulling his sense back to himself, Nashaa took another look around him. The horribly powerful winds had stopped, but the cold remained. Despite that, Nashaa's hope arose. He could see now, and if he could see, he could survive.
     Nashaa walked back over to Brimstone, and opened the cockpit manually. He reached inside, and pulled out his concussion rifle, a survival pack, and a small sensor pack. These would be his only companions for the next few days. He closed the cockpit, and stepped away. He took one last look at Brimstone, and then walked around to the side. Nashaa opened a hatch beside the engines, and hastily began pulling out wires. Finally he got to the emergency power core of the fighter. With a small tear in his eye, he drew his regulation sidearm, stepped far away from the fighter, and fired. A titanic explosion ripped the fighter apart, throwing a massive snow cloud in all directions. Nashaa was too infuriated to notice, to rage-filled to care.
     The snow calmly settled back on the ground. It surrounded the pieces of the destroyed ship. It covered chunks of durasteel and plastisteel, and covered any sign of a fighter. Another wind came in, burying the pieces even further, but no one was there to witness it. The New Republic search teams had landed a mile south, and Nashaa KamBuel had already begun walking.

Nashaa KamBuel's Story: Chapter 2

     Captain Dak Eppl trudged down the steep snow embankment toward the presumed location of the crash. Another troop was already standing at the base, immersed in the snowstorms near the horizon. The captain came up beside him, and the trooper turned and saluted.
     Eppl returned the salute. "Report trooper."
"Yes sir," the trooper began. "According to the calculations, the enemy fighter should have landed right around here. I spread my team around this area, but so far they've come up with very little in the way of solid evidence that anything was here."
     Eppl kicked at a small pile of snow. "Did you dig?"
     The trooper glared at the senior officer. "Yes sir, but it didn't reveal very much."
     "Trooper, the winds on this planet are incredibly high. Do you feel them?" The captain didn't wait for the trooper to answer. "These winds are high enough to carry debris literally for miles, so what do you think these winds would do to snow?"
     The trooper looked embarrassed. "Yes sir, I'll get something to burn the top layer away."
     The captain smiled and walked away.

     Nashaa pulled his TIE pilot's headpiece off and felt the frigid wind rip through his hair. He looked back and sensed the New Republic troops near the wreck of his fighter. They would find it soon enough, but it wouldn't offer any clues as to where he was going or where he was from, that was for sure. Feeling icicles forming in his sweat-soaked hair, Nashaa replaced the helmet, and continued on.

     There it is, thought Eppl. There's his fighter, now where is he? He picked up a piece of light gray durasteel and turned it over in his fingers. It was a TIE Defender alright, and the only pro-Imperial place around here with the ability to have and maintain these superior fighters was the Emperor's Hammer. He smiled behind his scarf, and looked over at what else remained of the fighter.
     Strewn all over the ground were pieces of a fighter. Eppl's hunch had been right. Hidden under the first meter of snow was the fighter itself, in pieces of course. Now teams of troops attempted to put the pieces in order and determine something about the pilot of the fighter. Eppl shook his head. Figuring out the pilot's identity was made incredibly harder by the efficient disposal of the fighter itself. The analysts had guessed that in order to destroy the fighter so perfectly, the pilot must has destroyed one of the reactors externally. Eppl realized then that this guy knew what he was doing.
     Suddenly, a shout was raised from the direction of the fighter. A Rodian female held up a small, fist-sized piece of medal. The durasteel square had a design of a blue triangle surrounding two Imperial signs. Eppl knew this was the break he needed. A fierce wind began to blow, and despite the discovery, Eppl knew that it was time to pack it up and return to the fleet. Oh well, I think we'll give the analysts something to think about tonight, he thought to himself.

     The snowstorm came without warning, and it came with such force that it almost picked Nashaa up off the ground and hurled him into its fury. With his own safety in mind, Nashaa dropped to the ground, and began digging into the deep snow. Within minutes, his frenzied digging manifested itself into a tiny cubby underneath the snow and ice of the surface. Climbing into it, Nashaa dropped into a meditative trance and waited out the snowstorm.

Nashaa KamBuel's Story: Chapter 3

     As the last of the gale-force winds subsided, Nashaa climbed out of his recess in the snow. He looked around, then, finding nothing, reached out with the force. Not but a mile south, he found the signatures of a dozen individuals. New Republic troops, most likely. Well, he thought with a sigh, 'tis better to deal with this now rather than later. Nashaa drew his concussion rifle and laid it down beside him. Likewise, he drew his DH-17, but kept that in his hand. He then settled down and began to wait.
     Then, without warning, he suddenly got up and began walking. It just felt like the right thing to do. Realizing that the force was instinctive, he did not fight this urge. Slowly, step by step, Nashaa grew closer to his enemies. When they were finally in his sight, at the bottom of a massive snow-covered ridge, Nashaa opened fire.
     The first shot caught a Rodian right in the temple, killing it instantly. The next took a fur covered Bothan in the arm. One trooper actually managed to bring his weapon to bear and snap off a hasty shot before succumbing to another shot from Nashaa's steadfast aim. Thinking fast, the leader of the troops ordered for cover and to pair up. Nashaa had lost the element of surprise, but he had not lost the fight.
     Dropping behind the embankment, Nashaa drew two power packs from his survival pack. Always one to tinker, Nashaa had often enjoyed making small grenades out of half-filled power packs. Using that experience, he quickly fashioned the two packs together and rigged them to overheat. Braving the fire from the New Republic troops, Nashaa leapt up, threw the grenade, and slid down the steep slope.
     The grenade found its mark. The leader and another fell to its fiery blast. The troops, however, soon realized that they had the advantage and charged Nashaa, firing their blasters wildly. Nashaa felt the Dark Side flow through him, and met their charge. He twirled, leapt, and dodged shot after shot. And with ever shot, Nashaa answered with one of his own. Troop after troop dropped face down in the snow.
     Finally, all his enemies were dead, save one. A human female, no more than 20, lying in the snow, a gaping hole in her left leg. She was calmly speaking into a comm, all the wile starring Nashaa straight in the eye. Nashaa starred back.
     "You've got guts," he finally said.
     The woman just continued speaking. After she'd finished giving the coordinates of her location, she switched the comm off. "You aren't going to escape, you realize that don't you?" she said, a hint of superiority in her voice. "You may kill me, but I'll be dammed if you get off this ice ball alive."
     Nashaa smirked, not moving an inch. "What if that's what I want?" he returned.
     She returned with a silent smile.
     Nashaa looked up at the sky. He sensed a troop transport being launched. No, three transports. He turned back to the woman. "You know, in a different place, in a different time, maybe, I could have loved you. You have all the qualities I'm looking for. Bravery, perseverance, beauty…." He pointed at her leg. "…. stamina. But, well, not here babe." He swung his blaster around and fired. The bolt hit the woman right through the heart, killing her instantly.
     Nashaa walked back towards the drift. He began work on his sensor pack. He would need something to foul up the enemy's electronics if he wanted to survive, and that meant a little creative re-tooling. He looked back up towards the approaching transports.
     "Get ready for Round Two," he said silently.

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