Crash position. Legs braced. Elbows on knees. Head hung almost between them. Suspended shy of the blaster somehow still in his numb hand.

Unable to stop staring at it.

With vision distorted by tears.

The last he'll be able to produce and shed for… well. For the rest of his life.

He doesn't look up hearing Kay approach. He knows it's him. A KX droid's footfalls are hard to mistake, and Kay's have a cadence others' don't thanks to… having a personality. Thanks to the "jailbreak".

Is that what I did? Did I free him? Or is he now just enslaved to me?

Some would say I freed them. They're idiots. There isn't always two sides to everything.

What if I've never freed anybody.

What if I'm no better than

What if I'm

…

That was Kay pausing. No doubt staring at him. Trying to ascertain why Cassian was in this utterly unprecedented position. The droid will be able to analyze factors and tell that Cassian isn't injured. That Cassian's system is uncompromised by foreign toxicants. That his blaster has been recently and repeatedly fired.

Will have to find other explanations. Doubtless his original programming, however no longer controlling him, has ample psychological data in service of interrogation.

He will be able to recognize the sight of someone who's been broken.

Not "been". Done it myself.

The surmise seemed to be correct. As Kay, with a gentleness his manufacturers would not have intended and most still would not think possible, had taken Cassian's weapon and then took Cassian himself and got them all back to the ship. Had been positively parental in getting Cassian situated before getting them the hell off Jenoport.

Somewhere in there, Kay had made the offer. Volunteering himself for a memory wipe, in case Cassian's "continued dignity and service demanded it".

Cassian hoped he'd responded aloud, not just in his mind. No one is ever messing with your programming again. Ever. I need who you are.