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Kix wasn't sure exactly where he was, but he knew he had to find somewhere to hide.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew he was on a starship (so, somewhere in the vast void of space), and that it wasn't one he wanted to be caught on.
Or rather, re-caught on, considering he'd just escaped.
He could hear a clamor coming from behind him from the group that he'd woken up to a few moments ago (before he'd shoved them aside, muscles aching at the exertion). Kix ignored the sounds and continued his desperate sprint down the hallways of the ship, pausing only to catch his breath (which seemed to be needed more frequently than normal- but then again, Kix had just come out of stasis).
Kix didn't have a set goal, exactly. His current plan was to get as far away as possible from anyone else, try not to throw up while doing so, and then get into contact with the GAR. Preferably in that order, but contacting someone was the most important part.
He had to warn them. The Jedi were in danger. The clones too.
They all needed help.
Kix realized he was speaking his plan out loud as he ran down the hall (which didn't make sense, considering that the only other beings he'd encountered so far were both hostile and probably far behind him at this point). His next discovery was that the door in front of him, obstructing his path, was broken.
Kix tried the control panel to no avail (odd, considering that unless the ship had lost power, the door should have automatically opened when the button was pressed). After pausing for a moment, Kix chose to turn to the left and continue searching.
Kix alternated between running and taking in gasps of air (breathing really shouldn't have been a problem, the ship he was trapped in had a working air filter- but maybe something had gone wrong with it). He whipped his head around frantically, looking for the one thing that might be his savior.
And, after sprinting into some kind of control room, one thankfully empty (although Kix had no idea why it would be abandoned, it seemed pretty important), he found it.
A metal grate, and, like the ones that lined the upper section of the walls, it partially covered the ventilation duct- but this grate was close to the floor. And it seemed big enough to work with his plan.
Kix slammed his hands over the grate (doing it more aggressively than he would have liked- he had probably injured something). He tried to get a firm grip on it, but his hands were slick with sweat and refused to get ahold of the bars (this, combined with the shaking of his hand, his lack of manual dexterity, and his nausea were registered by a distant part of his brain as symptoms of stasis poisoning- which didn't make sense, considering that it had been, at most, a month since his capture).
If he could just get the grate off, he could crawl inside the ventilation shaft and buy himself enough time to come up with a better plan. A way to reach Rex, or one of the generals, or really anyone that could alert the Jedi of what was going on.
Instead, Kix felt himself growing weaker as he slid to the floor, yet he still continued to try and get ahold of the bars. He fought against the heaviness in his eyes, the sudden sluggishness in his brain. He just needed a little more time. A few more minutes. Then he could rest.
Time was not on his side today, however.
Kix saw darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. Distantly, he heard footsteps, and he tried again to muster up the energy to grab the grate, but his arms were limp at his sides.
Then the blackness overtook him.
And Kix fell into unconsciousness once more.