Margaret tiptoes in a few minutes later, looking nervous but curious. She doesn't interrupt Deskyl's meditation, just sort of stands there awkwardly.

It takes a moment for DZ to notice her, but when she does she stands and goes over. "Are you all right, Ma'am?"

"I'm okay. Is she okay? She, uh, looked pretty freaked out back there."

"We're not sure, Ma'am. This isn't unusual for Sith, but it's unusual for Deskyl, and I don't know what to expect yet."

"I don't expect there's anything I can do to help, beyond making sure time stays paused outside and explaining things to the infirmary patients, but if there is let me know."

"If you could ask whoever's on duty in the infirmary to come see her when they're done with the others, that might help, I'm sure the pain isn't making anything easier for her."

"Yeah, of course."

Margaret heads to the infirmary, where multiple healed people are now milling around. More relevantly, an extremely healthy-looking woman whose right arm is entirely encased in a metal gauntlet is pressing her glowing silvery left hand to the hand of the blue-scaled woman, whose injuries are steadily repairing themselves. "Do you want to keep your prosthetic legs or have healthy biological ones grown in their place." she says in a fast-paced monotone to the cyborg man, then turns to Margaret and says "Hello do you require medical attention wait I don't think I can actually heal you."

"Oh, I don't need medical attention, but when you're done in here there's a woman in the security cells who does."

"I will attend to her next thank you for letting me know." 

Cyborg guy says he doesn't have a problem with the legs he's got. In fifteen minutes everyone is as extremely healthy as the healer and she and Margaret both enter the security area. Thanks to the time weirdness, Deskyl's two hours are just ending and the force field comes down.

Deskyl hasn't moved, and her eyes are still closed; she grimaces slightly as they approach, and signs hold.

Margaret stops; the medic takes a few more steps and then also stops, saying "Hello do you require medical attention I have a very comprehensive healing power."

She doesn't respond immediately, but a few measured breaths later she signs again: shoulder. burn. It's quite a nasty burn, too.

"Do I have your permission to heal all illnesses and injuries you may have."

She hisses in annoyance, and opens her eyes to glare at the healer.

"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Do I have your permission to heal all illnesses and injuries you may have." says the healer. "Ah, come on, the crazy lady clearly means well." says the security fairy.

She lunges for the fairy again.

And she's back on the bench, with no feeling of acceleration, and the force field is back up. "One more hour subjective." says the fairy.

Oh that's not good at all.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," she apologizes to the guard. "This is a common side effect of her powers; I don't know if another hour will help very much."

"Do you have a guess what will? She hasn't actually hurt anybody; as long as that stays true I'm not going to be any more of an asshole than I have to be."

She thinks about it. (Deskyl returns to meditating.)

"Most Sith don't consider this a problem, so I don't know much about how to solve it. Pain relief should help, if we can find something that works - I'm not sure what her objection is to the healer, though, and medications might not work on her right now. And I'll stay, of course."

"Sounds like a case of wait-and-see, then." says the fairy.

Margaret has gone off to check on the door, the droids, and the recently healed people and make sure everyone has everything they need. The healer starts walking back and forth from the holding cells to the infirmary, apparently waiting for a consenting patient to materialize in one or the other.

The droids have claimed a couple tables near the middle of the room and don't seem to be doing much, though they'll answer if she talks to them. The vacant-looking woman and struggling man are still in poor shape, and are resting in the infirmary; the man with the prosthetics is at the bar, and the other three are in a booth, talking.

Deskyl seems increasingly annoyed at the healer's coming and going, and after the third circuit she growls at her, at which point DZ asks her to stop and assures her she'll come get her as soon as Deskyl is ready for her.

"Thank you that's very helpful." says the healer, and parks in the infirmary. Margaret strikes up a conversation with her, and it turns out she can actually hold one, albeit with an effort one more often sees during advanced mathematics exams. 

Deskyl meditates. DZ sits with her, for a while, and then calls one of the other droids over to arrange for them to help escort her to her room as soon as the force field comes down again.

Fucking Force.

    Yes ma'am. Is there anything I can do?

Murder that fucking butterfly.

    ...no, ma'am.

Yeah. Wanna.

    Yes ma'am. Will you be okay staying in your room?

Think so. She makes a face.

    We can go home, if you want to.

No, wanna - droids -

    Yes ma'am.

If anyone comes looking for Margaret, she's still in the infirmary, but now she's staring at molecular diagrams and spinning a pen. The medic is staring into space with a contented little smile.

DZ comes looking for the medic once Deskyl is settled in her room. "Ma'am?"

"Hello my name is Connie pleased to meet you are you here to show me to patients?"

"Hi DZ."