Internal-external chronometer synchronization mis-match. They'd established that; still, having hard, measurable readings felt like additional evidence. That this wasn't just in their heads processors perceptions. Leave it for now.

Eighty-seven percent charge remaining. "Bet you'll be able to recharge at the hotel." (The vaguest and most casual term for it.) If things hadn't changed, they had some droid employees. Which was unusual only in that they were open about it; not at all unusual in demand.

Otherwise— "Good." I was deactivated. / Closing the vault door now. Cassian had heard, over the commlink…

Stop. Look. Look at him. He's here. He's fine. Don't lose that thinking about losing him. That's called shooting yourself in the—

"Let's get going, then." Cassian put his hands to his knees, preparing to push himself upright—then paused, changed his mind, instead ran his hand down to his ankle.

He did have his smaller blaster there. How in kark had he managed that? He hadn't had it on Scarif.

He hadn't had these clothes and had been injured and had Jyn and hadn't Kay and was lightyears away from being spontaneously here, on Scarif. Keep some perspective.

He looked around, confirmed they were alone, pulled up his pants leg, unholstered the blaster… and, no matter what he'd said before, flipped it to hand handle-first to Kaytoo. "Can you conceal that somewhere? Don't know if they're scanning people exiting but it'll be camouflaged with you, not with me."

Also, subtextually, again and again: I'm so pfassknockfeking glad you're here