He snorted, inside his suit. The sound came through loud and clear- if anything, it was amplified slightly. "I helped the government, but the government was screwing me over. Barely had enough money to pay for my apartment- a private company wanted to design their own spaceships, and become a PMC for the government by providing unconventional orbital warfare. Supersonic missiles launched from space, railguns, et cetera. They gave me the specs of their weapons- I redesigned the ships to use them effectively. I wasn't betraying- I never entered into a contract locking me from using my designs for other people. The government just didn't want my militarized designs getting out, so here I am!"

He clapped his hands together, and flexed his fingers in the suit. "And what'd you do to get sent out to exile?" He pointed towards his locker, on the other side of the room, and clenched his fist. The towel he had balled up and tossed inside lifted and flew straight for his fist. It stopped, though, hovering half a foot from his hand, a slight blue haze stretching from suit to towel. "See, kinesis too. Advanced stuff, it is. Real bloody advanced." He opened his hand, and the towel dropped. "Only works on inanimate objects, so don't try to pick me up."