[Sindragosa is idly fiddling with the communicator. Her blackened, swollen fingers deftly jab at the screen a few times, and then she heaves a sigh, which sounds like air rasped through a tube of sandpaper. She leans back against the wall of her cell, and the blue light flickers out - the closest she will come to closing her eyes. The empty sockets
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Can't you handle at least this much?
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