Quinntessential

A Hero Tale: Mischa

Mischa looked around at her controls. There had to be something she could do. This could be a ruse from pirates...but a vessel that big would be impossible. The thing also made some kind of jump INTO her ship...unless her sensors were being jammed. Nothing made sense - but what she could tell was that the THING in her room wasn't going to stay there forever.

"Romeo Echo Victor Two-One-One-Seven, coming to relative velocity." The panic in her voice was impossible to miss. "Acknowledge. Get this fucking thing off my ship. I'm sealing it in it's current location."

She throttled the ship to come to a stop relative to the massive ship. She quickly closed all the doors on the ship, sealing the alien within her room and at worst the spine corridor. The blast doors to the cockpit were nearly nine inches of hardened, armored steel. If it were going to get to her, it would have to work hard. With the doors sealed and pressure coming back, she deactivated the thrusters and unlocked herself from the pilot's seat. With a squirm, she slipped up into the cockpit towards an emergency cabinet. Opening it, she found the thing she never once thought she'd ever use.

She braced herself against her chair, holding the heavy pistol in her hands. She charged the cells contained within. It could fire a high intensity laser blast six times before burning out. When she held the pistol out towards the door, she realized how much she was shaking. Sweat soaked her underclothes, inside the thermal controlled spacesuit. Her breathing was faster than she would want to admit. Her heart hammered in her chest. She just stared, trembling and shaking.

A Hero Tale: Mischa

Mischa gave a strong reverse thrust and burned off all of her momentum. She made sure to equalize her speed relative to the object in front of her, but once that was done, she didn't give another moment to let whatever it was roam around her ship. She quickly sealed the bridge, closing the two heavy blast doors then closing the ladder access port a few meters behind her seat. She kept part of her attention on the floating thing a few hundred meters in front of her, but directed most of it into opening up her internal sensors and running a series of scans. Her other hand danced on the opposite console, sealing off all the Life Support systems, and opening all of the external airlock doors. Whatever it was better be vacuum sealed, because if it didn't come back completely normal, she was going to freeze dry it and throw it into space.

Warhammer 40K: Beyond the Law - A Mercenary Adventure [MATURE] (Open for business, apply within.)

@Jbcool PM'd! Sorry it's long.

Warhammer 40K: Beyond the Law - A Mercenary Adventure [MATURE] (Open for business, apply within.)

I'm leaning on the side of no, unfortunately. Hear my logic.

I'm not at all familiar with Silent Hill, but Daemons aren't simply...beaten. That's not a fight that any human, mortal resolve could hold. That's some pretty terrifying levels of psychic willpower to keep something like that in check. In Dark Heresy, you let a Daemon in and that's fucking it. Do not pass go, do not collect anything.

What's MORE likely is that it's a Psyker who hasn't had the rift opened. An unsanctioned, untrained person with a mind that's constantly under threat of being invaded. When you open yourself and try and use your Psyker Powers, it could be real bad, but you don't have that gateway open.

A tortured Psyker who knows that using their powers could open a rift to the world and allow a Daemon to posses them sounds like a lot of fun though.

Warhammer 40K: Beyond the Law - A Mercenary Adventure [MATURE] (Open for business, apply within.)

I had a friend knock up a sketch. I'm suuuuper happy. :D



@Jbcool - I'll be shooting you my write up today.

A Hero Tale: Mischa

Mischa saw the alert in her room. She unclipped herself from the sleeping bag and quickly eased herself across the room to her cabinet. She dressed quickly, pulling on the layers of her jumpsuit piece by piece until she was dressed. The sleek fabric clung to her, leaving nothing to dangle as she maneuvered through cabins in the microgravity. She moved to her door, opened it, and grabbed the small handle that ran along a thin wire. It traversed the spine of the ship, nearly fifty meters from one end to the other.

With a button press, the wire pulled her swiftly into the hall and towards the cockpit. She released the handle and used the momentum to slip through two sets of blast doors that opened at her approach. These were the emergency bulkheads that separated the bridge from the rest of the ship. She rolled over, putting her feet in 'front' of her, and gave a quick kick off the floor panel to vault up the two meter tall ladder that entered the small cockpit. In front of her was the three command seats and consoles. Only one was active, with it's nearly 270 console blinking various lights and noises. She slowed her movement on the headrest of the pilot's seat - her seat - and peered over the hard plastic frame to the readings.

Numerous holographic and pictographic displays showed statuses from everything that could matter. Reactor power and heat, Hyperdrive functionality, propulsion systems, sensors. Sensors, that's what she wanted. The incessant buzzing of the alarm finally forced her to reach up and switch off the blinking light. She had to focus. No one was supposed to be out here. Her body slid over the top of the frame, folding at the hips and the knees, twisting to avoid kicking the instrument panel above her. She slid down into it and a few solid magnetic clicks grabbed at her suit and locked her into the chair. The suit would tear before they released unless she hit the proper command.

She grabbed a radio earpiece with a wire mic and patched it into her Comms systems.

"Romeo Echo Victor two-one-one-seven Numinous broadcasting on all subspace bands. Receiving a distress signal from Point Zero Two Two by Three Four Niner off my vector. Adjusting Course Heading Zero Two Two points Starboard, Zero One One points Positive Attitude. Log Mark: Receipt of Signal. Mark." The technical side was done. Interstellar law required all distress signals be documented upon detection with relevant attitude indicators so that if no one made it back and they found her computer, they could at least tell where she was. She powered up the engines off of slow cruise and prepared them for flight patterns. A quick check of all of the maneuvering thrusters confirmed the ship's readiness to go. She tapped a few more commands before reaching down on the seat and pulling out her small, clear, environmentally hardened helmet from the flight seat. It sealed around her neck, making her suit perfectly airtight. She leaned her head back into the seat. Another magnet grabbed the helmet and connected the life support systems to it. She felt fresh air fill around her face and just a bit of fog appear on the inside of the visor before it cleared.

Fully strapped and ready, she tapped a few runes on the dash and the arms of her flight chair rotated around to deploy the flight stick and throttle. Her practiced hands found their places on each and in a heartbeat, she kicked the ship's engines to life.

The immediate press of inertia tightened around her. The ship's powerful engines were perfectly capable of killing her if applied too quickly. She was well trained, however, and parts of her body as well as the suit she wore tightened to keep blood from flowing too far from her core. She gave a grunt when things normalized again, heading straight for whatever signal was being broadcast.

A Hero Tale: Mischa

Name: Mischa Pomonov PhD in Galactic History and Xenoarcheology (a,k.a. Mimi, Michela)
Age: 23 Biologically. 34 Chronologically. She's spent a few years in a cryopod after the ship's primary hyperdrive failed.

Physical Description: Mischa stands just a few inches over five foot. She has a very thin frame, with a lithe, agile build. Many people make fun of her for being so short and tiny, though it serves her well in her work. She's an experienced spelunker and enjoys the advantage of being able to fit into very small spaces. In zero gravity, her compact mass allows her some extra mobility and control of her motions. She has short cut black hair, and dark brown eyes. When she's in her full space suit, it's entirely possible that she could be mistaken for a boy. She has rounded facial features and slightly narrow eyes, hinting at the mix of heritages that birthed her. She has very slight curves, with a modest bust and a firm, athletic bottom.

History: Mischa was born in a small colony near the edge of the Core Worlds. Most of the people from her particular colony (designated PRT-00031, simply named Triple Oh) become miners, pilots, or manual labor for the station's maintenance. Her early life was simple and boring. It changed when the Derelict was discovered. The Derelict was a massive generation ship from another sentient alien race in the galaxy. The three hundred thousand different alien specimens on board had died ages ago, and the ship was all but a floating wreck. Nothing functioned, but as it was dissected and disassembled, it fed the flames of curiosity throughout the galaxy. Mischa was no different. She took advantage of grants - programs looking for scientists and explorers to go to the far flung reaches of space in search of more of these aliens or their long lost civilizations. Within a decade, she had all the training she needed to know her calling in life. In the last year, she's been working with a research conglomerate. Her plan and scouting route for the Border Worlds was completely new, and astrological data she'd collected supported a number of unique findings that she'd uncovered in her work. They approved her plan, drafted a five year contract, and outfitted her with a budget to buy a ship and supplies, and sent her on her way.

Her Ship: Numinous


The light corvette provided to her was designed for long range travel. The massive twin hyperdrives mounted under each of the powerful engines were capable of fast, long range jumps. It’s capable of supporting a crew of six, but only one person is required to operate it completely. In N-Space, it’s fast for a ship it’s size. It has powerful maneuvering thrusters capable of very precisely. In atmosphere, it loses a good amount of that maneuverability. It has little lift from design. That’s compensated by the huge amount of thrust those thrusters can put out. It’s not elegant, but it works. The ship is completely unarmed and very lightly armored. It’s cargo hold contains a rover and ample space for samples and artifacts. The small lab is well stocked with various analytical tools and equipment to properly perform her mission, as well as medical equipment to treat any injuries she may experience.

A Hero Tale: Mischa

Did you want me to post the CS in the Character thread?

Warhammer 40K: Beyond the Law - A Mercenary Adventure [MATURE] (Open for business, apply within.)

I'm putting together a young Mechanicus adept. She was abandoned by her archaeology expedition when pirates came through. She's pretty much an unwilling participant. Hopefully this new crew she's with isn't quite so mean. Regardless, no one kills her because talking to Machine Spirits is something so few are willing and able to do. Her specialty is Logis Engines, Vox Devices, and Weaponry. Her attention to detail proved valuable when keeping track of events and people her crew's crossed. A few of her captors used her as a sort of scribe and records keeper.

Details subject to change, of course. I'm writing up the thing and getting it sent to @Jbcool.

The Quintessential Interet Check! [M or F, 18+]

@Aristocles Please! We can discuss the details. :3