Story is generally all original characters. Set 18 ABY, just before Survivors Quest. A young Force user stranded on the doomed Outbound Flight finds Jorus C'baoth's holocron. What she does with it is beyond belief. Mishy Lakaylor wasn’t your typical seven year old , although pretty and petite for a human she was insolent, tempered and mischievous. Her feminine qualities were somewhat looked past Somewhat on the raggity side; though they were all raggity on Outbound flight due to poor rationing, Mishy was all muscle. She had a knack for mechanics and fixed most of the rundown household items at least once a month. At an early age Mishy did not exhibit typical playfulness or bonding many children tended to inherit from their parents or friends. Some say she had Tradoshan blood running through her veins; cold and calculating she frolicked and chattered her gargled laugh when she took another child’s toy by her use of the Force. Countless times Mishy watched her older victims try to catch falling food from their lunch tray when she had secretly leveled a finger at them and thought , push. She could do this at will and it was surprisingly effective to instill fear in her peers. At times she was well mannered, especially after dinner, fluttering her eyelids at her father Kenth whilst he asked her to put the dishes into the saniwasher located in the back room. She carefully and diligently picked up every dish and scrap of food balancing all cutlery and morsels into the back cubicle away from prying eyes. This was her place, a place of solitude. Time and time again Mishy had been sent to the back cubicle for being naughty; sometimes she just wanted to get in there and be locked away from prying eyes. This was the only room in her habitat that had a lock, it was also the noisiest and dirtiest place; even the air scrubbers couldn’t penetrate the stench. Saniwashers, trash chutes and old food made this places aroma more than a little on the nose, but the solitude made up for everything. Most importantly this was a place to practice the Force, or what she had been told was the force by some of the other people living as the survivors of Outbound Flight’s maiden catastrophe. They said Outbound flight was ruled by Jedi, an idealistic and adventerous Force oreniatated religion that had insight into peoples lives. The Jedi could move objects with their mind, could influence people with their thoughts. They had many special abilities, with boundless telekinectic apitudes all packed into an elite sports star and monk. Unfortunately they killed 100000 men and women on this flight due to a disagreement with a Blueskin admiral who was defending his territory. Some said the Jedi general in charge was insane. For four years Mishy had learnt how to push and pull objects to and from her with alarming accuracy and was now concentrating on lifting cutlery with the Force into the saniwasher. Many a piece of crockery had slipped out of her control and ended up harmless falling on the clothes and blankets she had huddled around the washer. Be that as it may there were so many chinks in the plates and glasses from slippage into the saniwasher slots that her mother thought she was actually throwing them into the air from afar. The trick was to first pull the push in rapid succession to create a bubble and continue this to create angles, more push on one hand made an object scoop up, more pull made the angle slide down and levitation was slowly but surely being mastered. This is what drove her; to create and understand new powers that everyone else was afraid of, to hear why everyone was afraid made Mishy want to get to mastery even faster. Every time she made a breakthrough she would redouble her efforts. On this occasion though she thoroughly deserved to be in the cubicle and she knew it. It had been one hour since she was last bothered by her mother, which was just to pop her head in and give her a filthy look to make sure she hadn’t escaped again. Click went the lock; she had been locked away again. The grownups were talking about her in muffled hushed voices. Mishy’s spine tingled, her ears grew hot knowing how she had injured the old crab Yarvis the day before. She had popped the old mans knee out. He had caught her pushing food with the Force from Adel’s chow tray at breakfast. Crabman recorded the trick on holcamera and had given it to commander Uliar and Major Ellan. He then laughed in her face as he retold the tale at lunch in front of everyone. Mishy had fumed and simply sat in her diner cubicle with her embarrassed family, her mother weeping and her father standing over everyone; shielding his daughter and accepting some of the crowd’s vehement swipes. The little girl had sat face down staring in silence as dozens of beings openly spoke about her and her insolence towards others in the other occupied cubicles. The power inside of her was so hard to bottle up, she grew restless and tired. After a time tears fell from her cheeks, her face red like someone who held her breath for far to long. Mishy became sensitive of one and all around her, she did not need eyes to determine peoples focus or for that matter emotions. She could merely feel them radiating towards her; a hot and wet swath of abhorrence circled around her forehead. Crabman, she thought, has to pay and pay dearly. The old man had been drinking heavily, enjoying his merriment, he considered to get up and go to the freshers’. Feeling the anticipation and the abruptness that goes with busting til one can't hold anymore Mishy’s legs had started to tremble with power , he would go soon enough. Crabman desperately swaggered out of the diner with everyone’s attention reverted on his back, the little girl quickly looked up and stared at his leg with intense focus and hatred, channeling her rage into a invisible blaster she pointed and shot as she quickly lifted a sneeky finger in his direction. The invisible but tangible power exploded from Mishy’s brain, it was not a controlled ball that hit only it’s target, more like a fizzling firework like an old roman candle that arced out with jets from the points of a triangle which effected some of the people who were also wandering around. These innocents were clipped in the back of the head like a small crow peck, and others slapped like some old nemesis smacking their so called friend on the back without a shirt. Mishy’s centre of the malevolent power was focused enough that the greatest part of her aim was square on target. The old man screamed in anguish as he fell to the floor clutching his twisted knee. Notwithstanding, most onlookers jumped up to help Yarvis and berated the man for having too much alcohol and not watching where he was going. Mishy’s father only looked at his daughter in shock having caught her in the act. Her parents quickly ushered the girl back to her home and put her in the laundry for the past two hours. What little light there was around her seem to cloud over to a gray pall. This cubicle; a place with little ventilation, old food scraps that didn’t quite make to the trash compacter the cloying nature of air slowly turning putrid, dust motes that danced to the various vibrating sanitreatments, the noise being a low and constant thrum couldn’t block her parents anguish. Her scared mother cried, her nervous father fumbled out words to her intended victim. ” Mishy isn’t like us”,…”different” “to much thought for someone so young….loner…hasn’t got any friends….” Each of these phrases were regular, awhile agao each phrase would send a slither of electricity shooting out to dance on her fingers, but not anymore. Mishy knew who she was, who she was going to be; a Jedi. The young Force user focused on the locking mechanism ; the lock sprung with an inaudible click, a slight smile of pleasure spread across her face. That old Crab has got it coming. Now what to do ,she thought slyly. Surely they will offer him a drink . Without opening the door Mishy pictured the next room, an orange tiled section for breakfast and cooking, hotplates in one section, food and utensils on a caf table with harsh right angles around hip height augmented by a sole chair. His knee would force him to sit soon enough. Mishy set to work in her mind, first she literally smelt the odors of the room, time and space awareness came after a slight warping of the chamber. Concentrating on the utensils, pushing with the Force the knives silently slid near the edge of the table. Mishy then focused on the levitation of a medium size rehydrated aloe mushroom, a particular opaque and watery cellulose plant. It stealthy moved towards the base of the chair and carefully hid it behind the leg. Her trap had been set. She could hear her mother pour the special drink to Yarvis, listen to his rumblings slowly dissipate as the amber liquid sloshed in his mouth, his urge would be so great to sit now that Mishy slowly pushed the plant away from the leg and into position. Concentrating so hard that sweat sheen from her forehead she sensed permeations in the air, a foot unavoidably about to contact with the plant. Mishy thought the plant to be ice and it was so, Instantly their was a shriek of a man falling hard onto the floor and a thwack as his skull harshly struck the edge of the table, she felt glee, her eyes went crimson. Mishy sensed panic and anguish and drank it in, prizing the emotional flood the feeling offered to her, but something was not quite right. Her mother shocked and screaming and an old presence dumbfounded and dazzled. Quickly Mishy peered through the keyhole, everything was ultra white and she couldn’t focus. Something in her mind was screaming. Mishy surged in the Force, uncontrollably her blood boiled and her arms inexplicably flung around her body. She obliterated the door with a push, snapping the hinges off and rushing out into the blinding light and saw a puddle of scarlet blood slither across the room licking at the boots of Yarvis who was still standing bent over a non responsive corpse; her fathers temple oozing blood, his neck at an obtuse angle. What have I done, her only love, her protector swallowed up by her thirst for revenge for a stupid old man that did nothing but saw the obvious. Mishy felt as cold as the storage freezer, she shook faster and faster like the old clothes machine. An untamed inhumane shriek at earsplitting decibels came from her throat. Wind rushed around causing small dust motes and debri to twist and dance around her coveralls. Larger objects detached and were caught up in the mayhem. Yarvis and Mishy’s mother turned around from the corpse and their jaws dropped even further, their eyes ever widening in terror. Blood that was picked up by the wind was swilling around in the storm cell and started to fall. Mishy’s hair stood straight up on end, her hands were raised, trembling tendrils of electricity gathered in her fingers as she went taunt, she quickly released her misery in the direction of Yarvis. Bolts of crackling blue energy engulfed the old man, his whole body propelled backwards slamming into the hotplates, His clothes and skin were being ripped away, innards started to steam and still she pressed her powerful fury. She was screaming, all her clothes were windswept and fluttering backwards, a powerful dark halo engulfed her head. Realizing that there was another primal scream to her side, Mishy released her left hand surge and pointed it towards the sound, instantly a gurgling noise was emitted. She raised her hand higher and turned her head to see her mother suspended two feet off the ground, her face blue, her eyes pleading for her to stop, her hands not wrapped around her throat but uselessly dangling with her palms open in sorrow. Instantly Mishy stopped, sank to her knees and sobbed, head bobbing towards the tiles, hot gushing tears formed a slow eddy. Yarvis was dead, his stench was overpowering. Mishy’s tears were hot and salty, they drizzled down her ashen cheeks, her mother was whimpering like a sick dog but moved ever so slowly towards her daughter. Even though Mishy didn’t have a great relationship with her mother, little hugs were rare and cherished. Mishy thought this event deserved a whole hearted embrace. Her face still drooping down with tears still gushing, she raised her hands feebly like the child she was suppose to be and started clutching for her mother. Seshy was close but still had not made the distance, though close enough to feel her heat signature and hear her internal wheezes , Mishy drew her head up just in time to see a knife plunging for her chest. In the instant Mishy reacted due to the last shimmering of the Force leaving her body and rose some five centimeters and swayed to the right. The knife penetrated her left shoulder under the collarbone and wedged in, no sound emanated from either Mishy or her mother as they struggled with each other. Seshy twisted and silently used her larger frame to pin Mishy to the ground an arrgh of finality escaped her mother’s breath as she achieved the advantage. Wiggling the knife in a circular motion to gain purchase, making the spurting wound grow in size. Seshy started to increase her advantage by straddling the injured girl. Mishy was exhausted and feebly tried to raised herself, it was no good, her mother was too heavy and determined, dark blotches appeared in the young girls vision. In slow motion the knife slipped out of the oozing hole and was raised for a final stab. Mishy’s eyes were now pleading like her mothers had been a minute before, Seshy's were now crimson and dripping with blood. Events in ones short life defined Mishy’s existence, most importantly the hugs her dad gave her when she went passed middle grade and was accepted in advanced after two years schooling, Listening to Zimby about C'boath , the dream, and learning how to push and pull with the Force went flashing through her mind. The blunt knife came crashing down, Mishy surged with energy, her mother who was once so heavy shot up , as Seshy was forced up her blade still curving like a raptors claw from the thrust clipped Mishy’s nose exacting a clean cut on her nose, no blood came from the wound immediately. Seshy rose so fast that she cracked the back of her skull with a loud thwack on the 8 foot high ceiling above. Gravity took hold and her mother’s chest came crashing down on top of Mishy, a jolt, broke her nose and sent two baby teeth straight through her tongue. Seshy didn’t get up and became very limp. The little girl slowly turned under her, heaved and clawed her way from under the weight. Slowly Mishy checked her wounds, her shoulder was bad, deep with blood leaking quickly. Her eyes were glassy due to the blood now pouring out of her nose and mouth, she looked like a deranged psychopath, her hair now plastered to her scalp in wet gore. Mishy looked at the back of her mothers head and saw the knife protruding, its pointed end encased with bone and carnage. Mesmerized at the butchery for some two minutes Mishy didn’t hear the crash and fizz from the entrance door. Only a magnificent light shook here from her stupor, beings were rushing around everywhere shouting at each other and to her victims on the ground. A large but gentle hand pushed Mishy back to the sitting position, she heard an echoed tone, “We got a wet here!” Everything became hazy and discolored Mishy’s eyes rolled to the back of her head when she drifted into the spacelanes.