[center]-Seven hours, 18 minutes-38 minutes (20 minutes) After the Sacking-
-Main Prison Complex- [/center]

Arix meditated.

The kaminoan had been right--something Fi, he knew, though he couldn't have said they'd ever dealt much with one another. It was now more than ever that he needed to have himself together, to be collected and understand what needed to occur rather than forcing it, which was precisely what [i]wasn't[/i] his strong suit. He had always been in possession of an understanding of motion, of action, the will of the Force in motion. Like all his people combat was at the heart of him, and it had taken him quite a long time to accept that this might not be a good thing. The constant pursuit of bettering oneself was admirable, but the predilection to violence, the willingness to accept it as a natural part and response to a situation... It had taken a true Master to teach him what a life of violence should be used for.

And she was dead.

It hit him like a brick--like that damn zabrak's foot--every time he thought about it, his breath pushed from his lungs and his eyes squeezing shut. It [i]hurt[/i], but he knew as well as anyone that picking at it wouldn't solve anything. She wouldn't have wanted it...so instead he tried to focus on being practical. Like so many others he allowed his senses to broaden, tried to find anything he could through the force and was obscured by the overwhelming presence of the Dark Side, like a weight or a veil. It was hard enough to find peace in the face of it to be meditation all on its own, to build a little place of serenity in the midst of such turbulence, and it helped. He needed to heal, he needed to be strengthen up. If he was to be of any use at all, he would need to be ready when the time came.

He tried not to think of it as an 'if'.

All of the serenity he'd managed to build for himself was lost when the door opened and the Sith marched in. It had been different when they had come for the others, somehow, but for whatever reason he knew this time he would not be so lucky, and berated himself for thinking of it that way. There was more that he could do than fight--he could stand for his allies, his companions in this. He'd have to get to know them when he got back.

He tried not to think of it as an 'if'.

Did she expect resistance? She certainly seemed to, based on the guards she brought with her. Was she disappointed that he was already walking towards her? Pleased? His ribs hurt less. Maybe the meditation had even done some good for him. He didn't look at the others and didn't speak--just walked to the Sith, raising his hands slowly.

Peace. Not hate. Now wasn't the time to get everyone shot trying to make himself feel better.

"Fine."