Nash didn't even bother wondering how he ended up in these situations anymore; he just rolled with it.
Sometimes, far too literally. The world spun as he rounded up and off his shoulder into the Soresu lightsaber dueling stance. The dark-blue of his tri-phase saber cast looming shadows behind his assailants... all twelve of them. For a moment, he believed that a blatant display of aggression of a man igniting a meter-tall saber blade may be enough to change their minds. He allowed himself a small grin, which faded just a bit more with each other lightsaber that was turned on, and he now wore a grimace as he surveyed the twelve crimson blades before him. An eyebrow cast up in thought and disbelief, and for the hundredth time that day, he reminded himself that he was not residing in alliance space anymore.
The residing thought faded as his combat senses kicked in, and his blade sparked off the first offending attack even as he haunched low to the ground and flicked his wrist, catching another. The three blades intersected, and he shoved forward with the force as his ally. As they both spun away, he leapt up from his crouch and dealt them both respective kicks to the back of their heads.
Even as they were tumbling face-first into the caf diner's tables he was readying himself for the next two throwing themselves at him. Their faces lacked the scarring or tattoos of experienced Sith, so he wondered exactly how far down the hierarchy these assailants were. Fairly far, considering how easily he was battering aside the swipes, and they struggled not to hit one another in their furious swiping.
"You know, I'd warn you that anger leads to the dark side and whatnot, but I assume you're well aware of that...', with finishing his words he ducked low and force-tugged the more aggressive of the two into the unfortunate cohort, who now had the former's crimson blade poking through his forearm. Nash did not allow himself a feeling of accomplishment, even as he grabbed the surprised man holding the saber poking through his friends arm, spun him around, and headbutted him. Now, the other Sith disciple no longer had a blade through his arm, but half an arm, and his ally crumpled to the ground unconscious.
Nash didn't turn around, but simply looked over his shoulder to the group... some now visibly shaken.
"So... from twelve to eight... your odds look poor, at best. And pathetic, at worst.' With this he turned around to fully face them, blade held toward the ground, eyes narrowed as he surveyed them.
"No dead, one injured, three unconscious. I'm getting soft, in my old age.' His boots sounded epic in the silence as he slowly began advancing to the group, and one or two's blades started wavering.
"You're not bad. Blast, some might say in time, you may even get there... but at the moment, you're no more than disciples... not an apprentice, or Lord anywhere in this Galaxy region, I'd assume... and if you all force me to, I'm going to start getting a little more serious. I'll take a piece from, say...' With this he pointed at three from the group randomly. He allowed himself a dark grin.
"You... you... and you. And I won't do it out of anger, hate, spite or pain... it will be a lesson. Let go of your silly dreams of being dark Lords of the Sith, and embrace the light side. You'll enjoy the life to eke out a great deal more with all your appendages."
With this, he turned his back on them and began to make his way out the door. His lightsaber snap-hissed as he turned it off, and clicked it back into place on his Jedi utility belt. He knew if they didn't rush him by three, they'd wisened up, and this was over.
One. His hands swing slightly at his side with his steps.
Two. He gathered the Force about him, pressing it tightly against him, tensing...
Three. With a scream of anger, the mob charges at him. They hold their sabers high, ready to bring in their killing strikes.
At the last moment, Nash turned and threw both of his hands out. The group is lifted up and swept back into and through the wall, ripples in the Force trailing in their wake. Rubble dropped upon them, and Nash allowed himself a wry smile. He was no architect, but he had been hoping that that was not a load bearing or important wall, and fortunately, he was right. He'd leave behind some creds, but he figured Alliance currency would be worth poodoo in this unexplored Sith space.
"Hey... are you Jedi?'
There was a man standing near his shuttle, a enviro-cloak pulled tightly around him to keep away the chill of whatever Force-forsaken planet this was.
"Yes... a Knight of the Order. Why do you ask?'
It was a true enough answer, though one might argue he was a Master. He fell off the path of the Light side from time to time, so he denied himself the title.
"Well... you just bought yourself some attention, Jedi.' And the cloaked man stood up and away from the shuttle, and began walking away, even as he spoke his last words for the time being...
"You are the only one in the Galaxy left, after all.'
Nash's eyes widened in disbelief, and he fought back a chill crawling up his back under his robes.
And though he hadn't really noticed it before... it felt really, really cold after all.
