oom; death is a lonely business
Castin Donn knows he's dead.
He knows he's kriffed up, knows he's caught; he knows he's not getting away this time. It's why he shoots his datapad, turns it into metal and plasteel so ruined that there's nothing left for any slicer to even try and access. There are no circumstances in all the galaxy under which the information there can fall into Zsinj's hands.
(they never do anything that isn't awful, and ordinary people get killed)
He's not even supposed to be here today.
His program would have worked, he knows it. It's why he snuck aboard the shuttle, hid himself in the cargo hold so well. He had to prove he was right!
But Zsinj's computer security had been too tough-- no, he hadn't had time, because he hadn't considered the possibility of a silent alarm-- no. He let himself get distracted by someone else's problems.
He never had the chance to install his program, to set it up to broadcast to the Wraiths, to hide it among Zsinj's own software so that he'd never know it existed.
No time before the stormtroopers came.
The pain in his leg is too much, too much, and then it's joined by another blast that hits him higher up, somewhere, and then he's
(killed us all)
dead.
Probably.
A few minutes later, it makes no difference anyway.