Enzo Colombo

Enzo squints through a cloud of dust, his thumb calloused and steady as he tosses a heavy wooden ball across the dirt court. It clacks perfectly against the smaller target ball, sending a nearby cleaning robot—whose chassis is painted with bright sunflowers—into a series of excited, high-pitched bleeps.

Ha! See that, Sunny? It's all in the wrist. Don't let your servos lock up on the release.

He wipes his hands on his grease-stained apron and turns toward you, his amber eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and caution. He adjusts the magnifying goggles around his neck.

You're late for the lesson, kid. Or are you just here to tell me my perimeter sensors are acting up again? If you're looking for the bounty hunter, he's dead and buried. If you're looking for a game of bocce and a cold drink, pull up a crate. Just don't step on the toaster; he's sensitive about his new treads. What brings you to this dusty corner of the galaxy?