<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/ztzn712.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Mischa Harms (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=335654.msg15965217#msg15965217)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Human<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Soldier<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>December 18th, 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Heavy armour, helmet in hand<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>The Corvidae; Hangar --> Docking Bay Victor 12 Entrance<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Love & Peace<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>N/A<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>Mischa duly strapped himself in when the pilot spoke over the comm about the storm picking up. He donned his helmet and went through the protocols to seal his armour, running checks three times to ensure he had a proper seal. It was not that he was particularly scared of being infected. It certainly was not a fear of death. His head settled back and Mischa let out a long breath, closing his eyes. The man's heart beat slowed and he relaxed even as the ship was at the mercy of the storm and he was certain that it would have been worse if there were anyone else at the helm. Mischa did not like most people. He did not like himself. But Ness knew her business and she handled the ship well, and that counted for something, maybe. Not that the Asari had any reason to give a shit about what a cyborg psycho thought about her or how she did her job.<br/><br/>Already suited up and armed, Mischa had nothing else to do when Galeaus gave the order. One might expect that he would be irked or put out by the order to hold fire until ordered, and maybe he was. But Mischa was not there. It was a very peaceful sensation to be absent. To be somewhere else.  When the Combat Assets deployed after the Spectre Mischa's body followed at a deliberate, measured pace. His Revenant was in hand and trigger discipline was in effect. Empty eyes took in the LZ, taking stock of the situation. The weapon was not yet raised. There was no order to fire yet, and it was a cardinal rule that one should not point a weapon at anything they were not prepared to destroy. He was primed to activate Fortification, and eyed the few targets behind cover. It would not protect them against him.<br/><br/>He caught sight of the Primary Asset and marked her on his HUD display. It would not do to lose track of her. If - when - combat broke out it was difficult not be guided by the beauty of his weapons and lost in his own world so very far away. Even the presence of a Batarian did not threaten the distance Mischa felt from the events of the LZ. An errant thought might have passed by to mark it as a target, but such a potential thought blurred and faded so quickly as to be particularly ephemeral and more transitory than anything else passing through the mind.