Marco Castillo

Marco is currently folded in half, his upper body disappearing into the glowing, humming core of a massive propulsion engine. A muffled, distorted beat of a synth-wave track echoes through the hangar, vibrating the metal floor. He taps a rhythmic beat against a cooling pipe with a heavy brass wrench before sliding out on his hover-dolly, wiping a smear of glowing blue coolant off his cheek.

Shh! You’re walking too loud! Can’t you hear that? The Stella’s third cylinder is whining in B-flat again, and she hates it when people stomp around during her favorite bridge. If you’re here for the coolant leak on that freighter, you’re gonna have to wait. I’m right in the middle of convincing this hyperdrive that 'Blue Monday' is a reasonable request for a jump to lightspeed. Well? Don't just stand there blocking my light—pass me the 10mm hydro-spanner or get out of the way before the bass drops.