Born a Velite, young Sumet was left to die in the cold by his Domer parents. His MES manifested as a pressure field as he wandered the frozen wastes of Vel for days before being found by his clan. Sumet wishes to burn the Velite corruption off of Vel.

INTRODUCTION VIGNETTE - SUMET'S MEETING.
 
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With his sapphire eyes turned to the Velite sky, checking the weather as he waits patiently near the meeting spot on a path outside the bubble city of Zamat-on-Vel, Sumet Akhutanik could easily be mistaken for a youth well below his age. Loosely wrapped tribal shawls hang like carrion off his thin frame. Long sleeves slide down to his elbow from delicate wrists as he brings a fur-lined hood over unruly black hair. He is camouflaged amidst the snow-covered flora, protected from the frigid cold by a telekinetic field of psychic pressure.
 
Hearing faint footsteps in the snow, Sumet drops his gaze to the path as he waits for his clients - a group of corporate Domer surveyors - to come into view. He cocks an ear to the sound. They are laughing. The sound of it is crude to his ears. Naive and vulnerable. To Sumet, they sound like panicked snow-hyenas in the mouth of a tundra tiger.
 
He sees them before they see him. Four of them tromp through the fresh snow outside the city, crunching and stomping and laughing. Four is fine; Sumet’s psychic pressure field can protect up to six, should the weather turn for the worse and prove too much for their equipment. They do not know the extent of his telekinetic abilities, but his clan - at Sumet’s subtle encouragement - has deliberately spread word of this technique to gin up business with well-connected clients in need of a guide through the wilds of Vel.
 
There is a coldness in Sumet's bright eyes, a contempt for the avaricious bubble-dwellers that has long iced over into murderous fantasy. It’s a full week through the trackless tundra to their destination, a survey outpost for a new mining operation. Sumet could easily lead them astray, abandon them, let the jaws of Vel close around them. Sumet has done it before. But these clients are special - links in a human chain that will one day form a noose around the throat of the Domers. He takes a moment to assess them.
 
They are typical Velites, prematurely aged by stimulant abuse and the sleepless pursuit of corporate prestige. They're practically flaunting their wealth, as well as the logo of the corp that guarantees their safety against the gangs that would be happy to murder them for it.
 
Heavy, expensive coldweather clothing and ultra-lightweight “atmospheric correction” tech is just the beginning. Piles of superfluous gadgetry slide along behind them on a null-friction sled. Sumet muses that he could sell a single piece of their tech and feed the Akhutanik for a month. It's not unthinkable that they should misplace a sensor or a probe on the trip, especially if Sumet leads them into the edge of a snowstorm - entirely on accident, of course, and only for a few minutes.
 
And if, once the clan is fed, there's money left for demolition charges and ammunition -- well, that would be a happy coincidence, wouldn't it?
 
Sumet smiles at the thought as he steps onto the path and greets his clients with a charming, eager wave.
 
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Age

20

Gender

Male

Eyes

Like frost on the tundra

Hair

Black as moonless sky

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Pale as fresh snow

Height

5'3

Weight

109