we’re just carrying all that around?

It takes her a second to figure out what he even means. Sure, it's just as safe as leaving it here. More, really.

...yeah, I guess we’re not gonna get mugged.

That’s going to take some getting used to. It still makes him a little nervous, though not in a way he wants to give in to.

Or if we are, we're not going to be the worse for it. She pats her 'saber. Ready to go?

yeah. ready.

And off they go. She steers them away from the surgical area; they pass more patients' rooms, exam rooms, waiting rooms, and offices. Nobody seems particularly surprised at his shirtlessness.

The hospital is laid out quite straightforwardly, and their wandering eventually leads them to the atrium that serves as an entrance hall; it's dominated by a huge cylindrical fishtank with a variety of colorful fish and seaweed inside.

He has never in his life seen something like this in person.

He approaches it, transfixed, and lays his hand on the glass.

The fish nearest his hand dart away, though others soon replace them.

He laughs, everything else momentarily forgotten.

look!

He’s transfixed by the patterns of the Force in the tank, as well, the little fluttering bits of life.

He's adorable. The fish are pretty nice, too. She comes up to watch with him - pulls Daisy along, too, on impulse - and point out different details, what things mean in the Force, how this one is a predator and that one is a grazer, or these are schooling and those are solitary, or this one is very old and that one is very young.

He listens raptly, studying the fish to try to confirm what she’s telling him with his eyes.

...the dorfu feel different from humans.

Mmhmm. And really alien aliens will feel even more different, I think. Closeness - like, relatedness, family in the genetic sense - matters.

He nods.

His eyes wander to a fish that’s sticking close to the seaweed, swimming in odd little arcs.

that one’s hurt.

Aww, yeah, he is.

She calms him, and uses telekinesis to grab him, gently, with a bubble of surrounding water, and bring him close to the glass, where they can see his shredded pectoral fin.

Aww.

wonder what got him.

He tries not to feel a kinship with the fish and fails.

I dunno. I think he might have just gotten caught on something, it doesn't look bitten.

She examines the fish, trying to figure it out, and something... unfolds, in her mind, less like a memory and more like an instinct: healing works like this.

Can they do that to the fish?

(Can they do that to everyone?)

Yeah - insofar as they can do it at all; it takes a particular mental state, which they're not in right now - but... it's a secret for a reason.

seems like a weird secret.

...oh, except he – remembers – that Sith aren't supposed to do this. It's dangerous for a Sith to know this. Why?

Yeah, that. See how we'd have to... be calm, let the Force lead, be careful not to get in its way? That's Jedi stuff.

what a stupid rule.

It's not a rule, exactly. But I'm pretty sure if any other Sith found out they'd kill me.

that doesn't even make sense.

She sighs. Makes me weak, you see.

She lets the fish go; he struggles back toward the seaweed.

Well, that's too ridiculous to even be worth responding to.