|Date of Cutscene:||25 April 2016|
|Location:||The Ebon Hawk|
|Synopsis:||After the near-death of a friend and the subsequent brief lapse into the Dark Side, Lowri Revan-Shan makes the difficult choice of returning home, to a person who would not want to let her go again.|
|Cast of Characters:||414|
Death was something Lowri Revan Shan was well-acquainted with. She had witnessed single deaths and genocide, those of strangers, enemies, and friends. She had even been the cause of more than a few, both in her forgotten past as a Dark Lord and the more recent one beginning on the Endar Spire where she awoke with her false memories for the first time. And while she knew that they all rejoined the Force eventually, she had constantly fought for the hope that the ones she saved would have long, fulfilling lives with few regrets. Of course, that was not always possible, but that wouldn't stop her from trying.
And no amount of platitudes would ever make it easier for those left behind. The only one she had found to be even halfway adequate for the grieving was the reassurance that their souls were now free from suffering, and that they were never truly gone because the Force united all. But even knowing this was of little comfort when a person lost a friend or loved one, especially when the one lost had been young and had barely experienced anything of life.
No amount of objectivity could really ease emotions which couldn't be controlled in the same way as the muscles of the body. Lowri supposed that this is what the Jedi feared so much: that part of being human -- or being alive, actually -- wasn't as controllable as physical movement. A person could learn how to control his or her reactions or dull themselves to emotion, but such things never truly controlled which emotions were stimulated. Even the traditional Jedi way of denying them was merely something applied to the surface.
Lowri couldn't help but feel anger over the wanton slaughter of a peaceful farming settlement. She couldn't help but feel a kind of warmth when her friends had accepted her despite her dark past. She couldn't help but feel grief over the heroic sacrifice made by a friend and impromptu student.
The Jedi couldn't help but wonder how much of the Code was truly meant to protect the innocent from a loss of control by someone strong in the Force and how much was simply to guard sensitive hearts from feeling things such as grief, regret, and loss. At the moment, she couldn't truly blame anyone for either motivation.
The pale-haired Guardian had not felt as helpless as she had for years, doubting herself in a way she hadn't for a very long time. When she couldn't even save someone she cared about, was she capable of saving anyone, really? It hardly mattered that he had made that choice willingly to save both friends and simple bystanders, or that the creature they faced was something that even seasoned heroes seemed to only be able to slow down. She should have been able to stop it.
Then there was her loss of control. The last time the Guardian had been that enraged, she had been facing down a Dark Lord of the Sith and a former friend. She had since committed herself to abandoning that path, even if she refused to abandon being human in the process. Guilt assaulted her; whatever that creature had been, whatever motivations it might have had, she had retaliated in the most evil of ways. She could never regret her attachments, nor could she insist that they only led to the strong emotions which the Jedi claimed were pathways to the Dark Side, but she could regret her loss of control and the results. But then, how could she not have?
Lowri sighed wearily, pondering all of these thoughts and paradoxes as the Ebon Hawk navigated the familiar Hyperways. She needed to be somewhere far from the Union, from future galaxies. Far from Paragon City. There was really only one place she could go.
As she stood in the doorway of the flat they shared on the station, she didn't need the Force to register the shock roiling off of him; to her it was as plain as day.
The man looked weary from the duties and responsibilities of his rank, the familiar scruff on his face already sporting a few white hairs from both age and stress. He was the only one who could fill the proverbial shoes that he did, but there was a cost. Yet, even those tired russet eyes widened in astonishment the moment she appeared. She probably looked every bit as weary as he did, and the small touch of the Force he possessed was not what would have clued him in to her state of mind and her emotions. They were close enough at this point that he could read her as well as any datapad. She was troubled.
"I'm home," she announced softly with a wry smile that wouldn't fool him for an instant.