K-2SO KNEW he was in trouble. He’d already been shot in the back once, and it was only a matter of time before the other stormtroopers assaulting the data vault took him down.

He was grateful that Jyn had given him a blaster. Without it, the stormtroopers would have overwhelmed him long before. Their reluctance to believe that an Imperial security droid could possibly have been reprogrammed to work against them had helped him at first, but they had spread the word that there was a rogue droid in the entrance to the data vault. They showed no hesitation about trying to destroy him now.

Despite the fact he was dealing with armed foes actively trying to kill him, K-2SO still needed to help Cassian, the man who’d personally reprogrammed him in the first place. Cassian shouted for him over the intercom again. “Kay! We need the file for Stardust!”

The blasts from the stormtroopers’ rifles fell on the droid like sideways rain, and he moved like he could dance between the drops. A few blasts glanced off him here and there, but for the most part, he managed to avoid them.

It would have been so easy to just lie down on the ground and pretend he had malfunctioned, but K-2SO wasn’t programmed that way. While Cassian sometimes complained about how blunt the droid was when he spoke, that was rooted directly in how honest Cassian had made him.

Cassian had also made him selfless. Not only did he not think of people’s feelings, he didn’t think of his own needs much, either. If Cassian needed something so he could save the entire galaxy, then K-2SO was bound to find a way to give it to him, no matter what the odds of survival might be.

K-2SO reached for the console and ordered up the tape labeled Stardust. The retrieval arm would locate it soon.

The droid heard Jyn coaching Cassian in the use of the retrieval arm. “That’s it! You almost have it!”

In just a moment, they should have the prize they’d come for. From there, K-2SO could try to figure out if there was any escape from the Citadel, no matter how dire his calculations concerning that might seem.

Before that happened, though, a blast struck the console in front of the droid and blew it up. The explosion knocked him backward and loosed every circuit in his body. As he staggered forward, he noticed that parts of him had been knocked not just loose but free. They dangled from his battered frame by the thinnest of wires.

“Climb!” he shouted at the intercom.

He had to protect the console. If the stormtroopers reached it, they could use it to open the door to the data vault, and soon after that they would either capture or—more likely—kill Cassian and Jyn.

“Climb the tower! Send the plans to the fleet! If they open the shield gate, you can broadcast from the tower!”

It was then that K-2SO realized he didn’t need to protect the console any longer. In fact, he could no longer manage it. The best thing to do, then, was to destroy it. That way, the door would never open.

At least not until after Cassian and Jyn had grabbed the tape and gotten away.

“Kay!” Cassian yelled.

The droid could hear the anguish in the man’s voice. They’d put a lot of work into each other, after all. But without K-2SO performing this final act, Cassian and Jyn had almost zero chance of completing their mission. Even with his help, they’d face nearly impossible odds.

Nearly.

He fell on the display and tore into it as the blasts smashed into his body. He kept at it until his limbs had been blown away, until his motors stopped working, until all his circuits were dead.

As K-2SO’s mind faded to black, one last thought passed through it.

That door would never open again.