"Six-month-olds are still babies, even for us."

"Yes. But they still obviously count as people. And given the numbers I would naively assume that many people would've noticed what happens if you don't wipe the droids and then word would get out and everyone would know."

"I mean, everybody knows droids go a little strange if you skip a wipe, they don't think anything unusual is going on when they see that. Plus the language barrier, and mech droids are the most common sort and they don't generally spend all that much time around biological people to start with."

"Okay... still, there are hundreds of trillions of people in the Galaxy and at least someone should've noticed." Shrug. "Maybe I'm underestimating how not-obvious it is, but even so. It doesn't make the thing any less of an atrocity."

"I'm sure people have; Dusk did. But noticing and being in a position to do something about it aren't the same thing." She shrugs. "I agree about how bad it is."

"I wonder if Felix could recover you... He can make things and copy things from the past. Never managed that with humans, but might be easier with droids."

"If he's prepared to take care of a bunch of poorly-socialized children, yes, probably."

"Possibly not a project for the next month then."

"Yes." She sounds amused.

"Well, we have all the next of forever to come up with a solution."

"Mmhmm. It's a complicated problem but I don't think it's literally unsolvable."

Nod nod. "Is there anything similarly complicated around?"

"The war. The Jedi in general; the Sith in general. I'm not sure if biological-person slavery is complicated in comparison to those but it sounds like something Felix will want to do something about. Probably plenty of more local problems, in various places."

Nod nod.

"It's not a very nice galaxy."

Sigh. "Well, we have all the rest of forever to fix it."

"Yeah. And there are definitely worse places to start trying."

He nods. The hours pass along.

Night falls. They keep going.

A few hours after midnight, Daisy makes a hairpin turn onto a trail that's nearly invisible in the dark. Soon after that, they start passing artwork, similar to the sculptures in Dusk's pocket dimension.

He comments on the resemblance.

"That's good," she diagnoses, fondly. "I wasn't sure how - trapped - she'd be, but if she has her artwork, she's probably fine."

"And once we rescue her, she will just be able to dream up her art."

"She'll like that."

"Pocket dimensions are really great. I might get enough jealous of the two of them to want one of my own."

"Yeah. None for me, I suppose; droids don't sleep."