Now that they're safe, now that the threat is over, Baze allows his tears to flow. The thought of Chirrut being in danger even for one moment is too much to bear, and the thought that chases that one--I killed them--is even worse. There was no mercy in the way he dispatched the raiders; he even fired at the young one. It was the heat of the moment, kill or be killed, but Baze feels that is no excuse for the viciousness of his attack.

Baze drifts in the tank, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbs to sleep.