Drak walked into the bedroom, angry, frustrated, worn out, worried, confused... he couldn't decide. He was everything and it was eating him from the inside. He reached underneath the bed, and found an old Blastech blaster and holster. It was a bit old and worn, but if it worked, that's all he needed. He took it out and placed it underneath the pillow, just in case. He took off his jacket and shirt, feeling the pain from his dislocated shoulder. He checked his wound carefully, making sure to put the patch back on.<br/><br/>He lay on the bed, one hand underneath the pillow feeling for the handle of the gun, just to feel a semblance of security. He tried to sleep, but it was all too much for him, and his mind was never at ease. After everything Ziv said, he couldn't help but understand Meena a bit more. Meena despised Drak, not for who he was, but for putting her away to Kessel. He had heard it was a terrible place, but didn't know why exactly. He'd never been himself, yet with the reputation the Empire had, Drak doubted they would treat their criminals fairly in any way. Yet despite understanding Meena, it's hard to come back from trying to get him killed. If he wasn't so quick with his wits and decided to jump, he would have been dead now, he was certain of it. He wondered how long after she asked Vince to kill him, did she regret her decision? Right away, or more likely after a few drinks. How much did she regret it? It didn't matter, because it wasn't soon enough, he was going to die and she didn't stop it in time.<br/><br/>He tossed in the bed, trying to get himself comfortable, always reaching for the gun, feeling the cold steel on his skin. He wasn't sure who to trust anymore. He wanted to trust Ziv now, but he couldn't. He's known a lot of criminals, most stay criminals. However Ziv, unlike Meena, seemed keen on at least trying to change. Even if Ziv used to be a monster, he respected the fact that she was trying to change. He felt safe enough with Ziv, at least to go to sleep with a gun under his pillow.<br/><br/>Drak woke the next day, got himself ready, cleaned his wounds, and put his arm in a sling to keep from hurting it. After strapping the gun holster to his leg, he walked into the living room and sat on the chair near where Ziv was sleeping. As she woke he looked at her, feeling a certain connection, one he couldn't escape. He then asked her a question, one that had been plaguing him all night. "Tell me, what was Kessel like for you?"