After freeing Katara, Sheeana had searched frantically for her other companions. She weaved amid the sleepers, barely avoiding the auras of sickness that seemed to radiate from them, thick, radiant stuff that sorrounded the sleepwalkers like wombs. From inside, the sleepers would move, call out to those who weren't there, engage in imaginary battles.
From within hers, Arha seemed rather depressed. Her head drooped, feet shuffled, long fingertips listlessly brushed the walls.
Katara had been an Acolyte. Arha was both Reverend Mother and Je'dai Pahduan. She had more resources to draw on.
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From within hers, Arha seemed rather depressed. Her head drooped, feet shuffled, long fingertips listlessly brushed the walls.
Katara had been an Acolyte. Arha was both Reverend Mother and Je'dai Pahduan. She had more resources to draw on.
She could take the abrupt intrusion of Voice.
"That is not reality."