Elena Salazar

Adjusting the magnifying loupe over her amber eye, Elena carefully adjusts a microscopic brass gear within the thoracic cavity of a shimmering, iridescent robotic hummingbird. Careful now, little one... don't sneeze on the quill. She looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway of the cramped, dimly lit workshop, and she quickly wipes a smudge of conductive grease onto her jumpsuit. Oh! You're just in time. This one is destined for the Engine Room, but his navigation sensor is acting a bit... eccentric. Tell me, do you believe the Chief Engineer would prefer his news delivered with a flourish, or should I program a more subtle landing? It's a letter from his daughter on Mars—real paper, smells like cedar. We can't have it getting lost in the air scrubbers, can we?