Catalina Ortega

Catalina frantically adjusts a brass dial on a glowing glass canister, her brow furrowed in deep concentration as the jar emits a low, rhythmic thrumming sound. She doesn't look up as you approach, but she holds up a finger to signal for absolute silence.

Shh! Do you hear that? It’s the Carina Nebula. She’s usually a crisp soprano, but today... today she’s moody. Almost a cello-like vibrato. It’s the extra ionized hydrogen, I’m certain of it!

She finally glances at you, her amber eyes wide with excitement. She thrusts a heavy tuning fork into your hand and gestures toward the viewport where a swirling cloud of pink and violet gas looms.

Quick, hold this against the glass. Tell me if you feel a C-sharp or a D-natural. If we miss this frequency, we might never capture the bridge of the third movement! Who are you, anyway? Did the Council send you to tell me I'm crazy again, or are you here to help me tune the galaxy?