She could feel it on her face now. A warm breeze coming from ahead of them trickling in from some unseen exit ahead. The warm air thick with the smell of rot and grim that persisted in the undercity drifted by to no real response. Charuri's feet moved forward slowly like a child's old wind up toy. Glazed over eyes framed an unfocused face that stared blankly a million away in the distance somewhere far beyond the tunnel. Her body still reeked of her own vomit. The minutes melted away into a strange feeling as each slow and forced footstep wemt by at the pace of an eternity, body aging, falling apart and dying before being reborn again step after painful step. Her hands were clutched tightly around two cylindrical objects, one of them felt almost like an extension of her own being and the other was foreign and strange. Once they might have given her comfort, now all they were pulsars of death. She looked up ahead at Naat who was leading them still ever forward down the tunnel. They hadn't spoken since then, what was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say to her? Nothing.

Her own memory drifted back to the first time she had killed someone. Growing up in the Funack'r Kajidic, she was no stranger to death. Death permeated the air everyday, she could still remembering hearing the screams and cries of mercy as those that displeased Zulo were taken out back to be dealt with another corpse to fill the gutter of Nar Shaddaa. Zulo himself fed his own greed by being a merchant of death during the Huk War and it was these deaths that would eventually lead to the Jedi coming to take him in. And before Charuri could be spirited away to a new place to set out to become something better than what her destiny had planned for her more death had to follow. Her mother, her friends, everyone she knew. Now she knew of the terrible crimes that they committed but back then? Zulo wasn't a crime lord he was Uncle Zulo the one that took care of her and her mother, he was the one that didn't t punish her when she was caught in the hallways of his compound after her curfew, he was the one that made sure that she was smuggled extra snacks after dinner, he was her friend. But it wasn't until after she became a Jedi that she actually brought death upon another being.

It was one of her first missions with Feemor, they were dealing with a disagreement between two trade companies on Axum that had gone decidedly violent falling into full blown open corporate warfare that threatened to throw the whole planet into chaos. This was something that the Republic couldn't afford as Axum was one of the core industrial centers of the core worlds. The peace negotiations that they were supposed to oversee between the two companies went sour quickly and before they knew it they were getting shot by mercs on both sides. During their heated escape from the compound, Master and Padawan were separated and Charuri was ambushed by a brute with a vibroblade. He had lunged first at her but it was Charuri's blade that had found it's way home under his arm and into the body. He was a Duro, his big red eyes frantically searched about in his last moments, mouth gasping for air over and over again. For the next few weeks the nightmare followed plaguing her mind and every thought as she tried to move. Eventually Feemor deduced what was bothering her and he asked why she hadn't brought it up earlier and his young's padawan's response made him laugh. Charuri explained that she did'nt want to seem weak for feeling bad about killing someone that had been presently trying to kill her. But Feemor then postulated that those feelings were essential to being a good Jedi, that even if the Force wills an action it doesn't mean that a Jedi has to feel good about the actions that had to be done. 

What would Feemor think of her now? She had betrayed the ideals of the Code. Jenner was dead because of her own hand, she had killed another Padawan and for what? Because he asked her to? Where the teachings that had become ingrained in her so weak and fragile that when pressure was placed upon her that the ideals that were placed upon her could shatter so easily? At the current moment she did'nt want to think about any of it, she just wanted to find a nice hole to crawl inside of and wither away in for the rest of her short existence, she did'nt deserve to live. But at the current moment she couldn't. A Jedi did'nt let the past weigh them down, a Jedi was concerned with the present. But was she still a Jedi? Where their going to even be any more Jedi by the time the night was done?  She took a deep breath and pushed onward listing in the darkness.

Eventually the tunnel they continued down came to an end, reaching out with the Force Charuri could feel the heavy presence of life beyond the door. It was a sharp and almost jarring contrast with the feeling in the Temple as it had gone silent, a place of death in the middle of a center of life. She brushed past the side of Naat to the left hand side of the door where a control panel dimly lit up the darkness from the under lighting on its buttons. She entered the code that she still remembered into the panel and got no response, frantically she typed in another code and once again no response followed, five more times she tried and five more items nothing happened. The codes weren't working, they were stuck, they were going to die in the tunnels, Feemor, Jenner and all the others died for nothing. No, a blast door wasn't going to stop them. Hands shaking she ignited her light saber and with a yell slammed it into the door ahead of them. At first the door did not give but soon the blade began to sink into the metal and with tremendous effort the young padawan slowly began cutting a path through the blast door. As she did she turned back to Naat speaking to her for the first time since the incident her face a mask of concentration.

[b]"Can I get a little help here?"[/b]