Kit was well aware of the enemy---the abomination---they were so suddenly facing, and had an idea of its implications. He had to be; every sense was alarmed, and there was no ignoring any one.

The Force spoke of what the thing was, without any words or 'how' or 'why' or 'when'. It was violence, suffering, and cool negation, dark as a pit and worse than it would've been had it raged---something Sith alchemy could call admirable.
His empathic abilities insisted his attention be (however briefly) on the emotions around him; the horror, nerves and open fear, surprise, sorrow (and so strong from Braska), and an unending desire to break were sensed/felt/smelt/almost tasted.
(He was painfully aware, really, with his tentacles twisting back in a sort of flinch from what they felt from Sin, and his effort to remain calm not entirely successful. He had been trained, but it was still difficult to accept the surrounding moods while isolating his own---his hands were steady, but his hearts were speeding.)
...And then, there was the visual impact of the thing.

Lightsaber in one hand and a water orb forming above the other, Kit stopped beside Spirit. "There must be something---there always is."