LEGO Chronicles: Blacktron Spectral Starguider

Exhaust from a shoulder-mounted jetpack fills the air, as an astronaut flies in and skids to a halt. His Suit is white with black trim, including a black helmet, on which the translucent green visor accentuates the large green letter B on his chest.

"Blacktron astronaut Breeze reporting for dutyyy!" he singsongs heroically, throwing up a smart salute. As he pops open his visor, it's clear that the green tint had been muting the garish red of his bushy moustache and eyebrows, and also the blue of his temple-mounted cybernetic implant. "How's the progress on the Spectral Starguiderrr?"

"Going adequately," responds the deck officer, adjusting her glasses over the microphone in her headset. "We're just mounting the retro-rockets on the command module."

The command module is marked by twin domed octagonal canopies, of the same translucent green as Breeze's visor. They're mounted on either side of a massive central brick, 2 units wide by 4 units long by 2 units tall, on hinges that open outwards like suicide doors. Actually, the size and shape of them makes the canopies resemble big green elephant ears - with the trunk formed by a curving windscreen that folds down from the bottom when opened.

"You know you're not going to be able to fit that jetpack in there," comments the deck officer, as she oversees the robots, technicians, and robotic technicians that are welding the white camera-looking elements to the side.

"What? I'm not flying this thing," replies Breeze dismissively. "I'm just the tech officer, here to oversee the computer and the cargo. Speaking of which... I think that's Flash with the goods right now."

"Just got it from the fellers at the computer lab," pipes another astronaut, entering with a whoosh from automatic doors. Although their spacesuits are the same, this one - codenamed Flash - wears a black-backpack-mounted air-filtration system, much less cumbersome than Breeze's jetpack. Their auburn hair drapes lazily down over a blue cybernetic implant, secured like a headband over their forehead. "Why don't you go fire up that computer? That's your purview, right?"

"Already on my way to the technical module now," replies Breeze, sliding his hand over a large yellow arrow at the back of said module. This one also has twin green canopies, but these are mounted on the tops of two portholes, so that they open up instead of out. But the main method of entry is through the back, which started to fold down from the bottom, after the roof first folded forward from the top, releasing the latch.

Inside, mounted on the rear edge of a white basket-like 4x4 base was a black electronic container box, the front of which was covered with a complex series of buttons, dials, and lights. With a few taps of Breeze's fingers, the panel starts glowing, and a slot opens up near the top.

"All yours, Flash." He gestures towards machinery.

"Thank you, kind sir," rejoins his partner, producing a 1x2 smooth tile, which is itself covered with similar circuitry. When held lengthwise, or in landscape mode, there's an amber readout screen near the top-middle, flanked by red and green buttons of various sorts. Flash inserts the microchip into the slot, which makes a satisfying plink as the larger computer engulfs the smaller one.

"Done. Now it's all ready for transport across the planet's surface, no matter what's out there." Breeze fiddles with the controls and the module starts to close up again. "So remind me, we're taking this thing where?"

"We got a distress call from an M-Tron vehicle in sector 7-G," explains the deck officer, barely reacting as a robotic crane swings next to her and grabs the tech module. "He was following beacon out that way, when a large blast of some kind blew his craft apart and fried his circuits. This thing you're carrying should help him get back on his feet... or his wheels at least."

Speaking of wheels, the tech module has been settled in the middle of a giant, six-wheeled base, locking into place with a pin at its back. Each wheel is easily the size of an astronaut, helmet included, with the front wheels set wider apart than the middle, which were themselves wider than the rearmost ones, sort of like a reverse-arrow.

"Heh, M-Tron," scoffs Breeze. "Using the power of MAGNETS to locate and transport vial resources," Breeze mockingly recited from some promotional material. "Couldn't use your super magnetic capabilities to remain out of harm's way THIS time, could you? We Blacktron have advanced in ways which set us apart from our adversaries, to become the strongest power in the universe! Just look at this jetpack!"

"Calm down, Breeze," chuckles Flash, hopping into  the command module, which had just been attached to the front end of the base. Unlike the tech module, the command module attached right between the two front wheels, so that Flash was basically sitting at ground level. "And in fact, you'll probably have to take that thing off while you're driving the base. You'll need both hands to steer this behemoth."

"Ugh, alright, I hear ya," grumbles Breeze, as he stuffs his jetpack into the tech module, replacing it with an air tank, same as Flash's. His now-slimmer profile settles in at a jackhammer-looking joystick, mounted on a crosshatched plate above the two rear wheels. "I still don't know why they didn't make it so you could control this thing from the command module."

"Hey, I fly the modified ship when it's in shuttle formation," barks Flash. "You know, when the command module locks in place with the tech module? What do you think those two huge jets on the back of your computer box are for?"

"Well, whatever they're for, I sure hope they don't turn on while I'm standing here, or I'll be fried." Breeze looks nervously at the two engines in front of his face, and then at the smaller single one behind him, designed to move the combined craft. "At least out here I'll be able to get some fresh air. OK, open the doors and fire up that antenna thing of yours!"

A green and black rectangular dish mounted on the top of the command module starts twisting back and forth, relaying information onto the windscreen in front of Flash. At the same time, the deck officer punches something into her command tablet, and two huge doors of the hangar swing open.

"Alright, we've got a signal," cries flash into their communicator. "Continue due east for 25 degrees. And watch out for that terrain."

"Copy that, Flash-O," returns Breeze. "Just let me maneuver this thing... wha-? REAR wheel turning? How am I possibly gonna control this thing?"

Thus the Spectral Starguider crawled off into an alien sunset, to the sound of two old friends complaining.