Chirrut smiles as he moves slowly down the row of more established plants, checking soil moisture and the turgidity of the leaves, feeling gently for new shoots and pinching off any wild or wilting branches.

"Are you sure you don't want some plants of your own?" He calls over his shoulder. He loves this place, not only because of his little tea plants and his own enjoyment of caring for them, but from the peace he can sense from Baze when the larger man helps.