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Hells Heroes

Can a back story effect more than character?

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Hello. 

My brother and I want to convert our d&d group to Dark Heresy, which will have to wait till the end of our current campaign.

In preporations, I designed a character, a techpriest, and gave him a simple background story for how he became who he is.  My brother wanted to decide how he meet his character the Inquisitor.

So I say sure.

This is the Background I gave him more or less.

I lived on a paradise Planet, my parents were low-ranking nobility.  They got themselves assassinated one day leaving me as an orphan.  I was treated as scum, and forced to hide and steal what I could while avoiding the arbites.  One day I slip into a repair shop (or an equivalent, I'm not great at lore yet.) and find a agitated techpriest working on a food dispenser.  He gets pissed and leaves because he can't figure out what's wrong with it (he just isn't good at the tech part of being a techpriest I guess).  After looking at the thing for a minute, my character some how just knows what to do.  When the techpriest comes back with a higher rank priest they find me sitting in a pile of stale snacks.

The low ranker wants to have my hands cut off or my head.  The other priest offers me a position in the cult.

A basic backstory that I hope doesn't violate (to much) lore.

 

My brother took it from there and wrote this.  It's the un-editted version.

  On the Paradise planet of Alcore, the people live in blissful ignorance to the unending war that surrounds their galaxy. Underneath all of their foolish rhetoric and cleansed society lies a sly and disgusting underworld that is often visited by few that don’t reside in such a place. Although, one such man lives there on a day to day basis, tending to the dying machines and trying to restore them back to life in his repair shop (also serves as a scrapyard).
 

Drust Iaction, a born and raised native of the planet, he was trained by the tech-priests due to his “special gifts” residing with the machine spirits. Trained for many years, Iaction was disciplined under the most extreme doctrination processes just short of the Adeptus Sororitas itself. But even after completing the training the tech-priests could not bore their rhetoric into his psyche. Even though he had built many friendships and connections within the machine cult, the elders were forced to mark him for termination. For anyone that wouldn’t abide by their commandments would inevitably give the forbidden knowledge to those of which who would plot against mankind, and so they brought Iaction to the furnace in the recycling district.
Iaction, still at the young age of 19, trusted the elders. He was only told that the last rite was to be performed that would make him a tech-priest. They came to a massive pit, walking to the very edge. Iaction thought it would be a test of his connections with the machine spirit but as he turned to face the escorting elder a sudden shot pierced through his chest, collapsing his right lung. The force of the shot sent him staggering toward the edge where heaps of broken metals, wires, garbage, and circuitry were hurled down into the smooth metallic pit. Jets of flame roared from the walls, engulfing and melting the heaps into a small ball before finally dissipating.
 

Iaction wavered at the very edge of the platform, trying to keep his balance even though his blood squirted out of his chest and back. Turning to face his executioner, he saw that the one elder that demanded his execution so long ago was holding an auto-pistol. A devilish grin cracked through the remaining flesh on his face, his one normal eye bloodshot from the long-desired retribution. “I’ve waited too long for this moment child. Now burn in holy fire!”
With another shot the Elder Tech-Priest carved a chunk out of Iaction’s shoulder, sending him hurdling down the chute. Remnants of machinery hurled down beside Iaction, surrounding him as he fell through. As the flame jets sputtered to life, the metals and electronics fused around Iaction. The vengeful Elder Tech-Priest saw the sight and slowly walked away with a smug look of self-accomplishment like he had single-handedly ended a war.
 

Meanwhile, as the broken tech surrounded Iaction, smothering him, he prayed to the remnants of the spirits, “Please disregarded machine spirits, spare my life and I will forever devote my life to ensuring that you are treated with the proper respect. By the Emperor, I swear my life to this purpose!” Instantly the jets of fire started to sputter, restraining themselves from their full incinerating capabilities while the broken tech around him assumed an abnormal toughness, resisting the flame. As the sphere of molten tech ran its course through the flame jets it landed with a sickening thud in an arid underground.
The molten tech sphere cracked open, releasing Iaction from its hold. The sun began to rise in the distance, illuminating the red-sand underbelly of the paradise world. Iaction lied there motionless, bleeding profusely. He gasped for air but continued to bleed, coughing up mouthfuls of blood on to the dry red dirt. His vision hazed as he tried to stand, only to fall down to his knees. Sensing that the end was near he apologized to the machine spirit for dying so soon.
Suddenly, a medi-pack dropped from the molten sphere interior. It was full and in perfect condition. Iaction grinned at the sky, “By the Emperor, I…thank…you.” 
 

Several years passed since then, Iaction had been providing care and aid to all the machines that were discarded to the underground. Also, in order to pay for his expenses and needs, he provided support to any and all undergrounders that were in need of his expertise and repair.
As his services continued it wasn’t long before Arbiters came looking for him, seeking to bring him to justice for his heresy against the machine cult as well as the people of Alcore. Below, the people he aided were simply trying to get food, water and supplies but up top they were considered thugs, murderers, and thiefs. A bounty was placed on his head, 10,000 thrones to the first person who could bring him in alive. The planetary governor decided that the issue had reached the extent to alerting the Inquisition, for the idea of a heretic spreading the forbidden teachings of the machine cult to criminals was indeed problematic, especially if the Adeptus Arbites were unable to catch him.
 

Inquisitor Skult was lucky enough to be in the area, his robotic arm now operation at top efficiency. Immediately upon arrival Skult decided to go undercover as scum, arming himself with only his medallion, and auto-pistol, and his biotics. After dropping to the underground Skult saw a man driving a motorized powercycle. Playing a man in need, he asked the man for a ride. Upon the man’s dismount Skult shot him in the forehead, blowing a hole through his skull.
Skult, before mounting the powercycle, uttered a prayer of silence to the machine spirit. He rode across the arid desert until he came to a huge underpass junkyard, most of the equipment looked rusted and scorched but still functional. Leaving the powercycle in front of the shack-like garage, Skult walked inside. He was dressed in rags and had a raggedy hat with several holes in it. He saw Iaction standing over a vehicle that looked civilian in use, the frame and flexible wheels giving it away as a desert-fairing ride. Without looking Iaction muttered, “What is it that you want Inquisitor?”
Skult was surprised by the young man’s comment before quickly snarling and drawing his auto-pistol, aiming it directly at Iaction’s head, “How do you know who I am?”
 

Iaction grinned, “Silencing the machine spirit from my ears is impossible Inquisitor. They are my eyes and ears in this world.”
Skult lowered his auto-pistol, assuming a disciplined look on his face and announcing with a commanding presence, “You seem too valuable to be traded in to the governor. How’s about a trade?”
“What kind of trade?” Iaction answered cheerfully as he fixed the vehicle’s ailment.
“I get rid of your bounty, erase your history with the machine cult, and take you far away from this place?”
“What’s the catch Inquisitor?” Iaction questioned impatiently.
“You are to become my acolyte.”
“For how long? I do have my own obligations to serve as well.”
“It depends, how much do you value the machine spirit?”
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I know there's alot of lore problems (which were tweeked later) but hell, I liked it.  I think I'll stick with being a Inquisitional heretek though.

Now...for the actual question....***

Based on this backstory he gave me a custom trait that alows me to understand how to use, and repair human based machines just by listening to them for a minute or so.  IF I can fix them is still up to the Dice.  Personally I think it adds to my character, but is it breaking the game in anyway?
 

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I dont see this breaking the game, depending on the +bonus you get from listening to the machine spirit. It seems that your brother has taken the stance that there is a spirit inside the machines and that some people can commune with it.

To me this sounds like some sort of Princept (Titan operators who can somehow interface with the machine spirit), which would make you exceptionally popular with the Tech priests.

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Yes it can

 

See my charecter in my friends campaign is a Schola Progneuim(orphan child) Arbitrator

Heres his back ground

 

When ever he had asked about his parents people just stared at him and never responded. One day a band of dark eldar raided and destroyed everything, all teh people where either killed or enslaved but he was the only one left alive. Why? They did not know of his existance nor could they find him becuase he was underneath a pile or rubble. After a team of guardsmen came to the wreckage site they found him by a cyber mastif. Now is his life go perfectly? Sort of. until he became a acolyte and arbitrator his life was 'normal' people just gavehim weird looks. Not know to him he is a Null. Even worse his father is a Chaos Sorcerer(Yeah I know it conflicted with canon info. I didn;t know at the time). He also passes out when ever he encountered eldar

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