Astrid Nova was not your typical astronaut. While most astronauts trained for missions to space, Astrid was in her second year at the Celestial Flying School, a futuristic academy where students learned to pilot advanced spacecraft and solve intergalactic problems. At twelve years old, she was the youngest cadet in her class, known for her wild curly hair, neon orange jumpsuit, and her pet starfox, Zylax, who always perched on her shoulder like a fluffy comet.
One Tuesday morning, during a routine navigation simulation, Astrid’s instructor, Professor Qwark, announced a surprise assignment. ‘Class,’ he boomed, stroking his silver beard, ’the Rainbow Machine on Planet Chroma has malfunctioned. Without it, the galaxy is losing its colors. Your mission: fix it before the next solar cycle.’
Most cadets groaned. Fixing machines was usually tedious, but Astrid’s eyes sparkled. She’d always been fascinated by the Rainbow Machine, a massive structure that projected beams of colored light across the galaxy. ‘Come on, Zylax,’ she whispered. ‘This is our chance to fix something big.’
At Chroma, Astrid and her team landed in a dull, gray landscape. Even the sky was a monotonous slate. The Rainbow Machine loomed ahead, a towering spiral of gears and lenses. ‘It’s not just broken,’ muttered Cadet Jett, the class perfectionist. ‘It’s… frozen. Like it’s been shut down.’
Astrid approached the machine cautiously. ‘Hello?’ she called.
To everyone’s surprise, a tiny, glowing, caterpillar-like creature wriggled out of a crack in the machine. Its skin shimmered in soft pastels. ‘Help!’ it squeaked in a high-pitched voice. ‘The machine’s my home, and it’s broken!’
‘A Chroma Worm!’ Astrid whispered. She’d read about them in her Galactic Wildlife book. ‘They’re the guardians of color. No wonder the galaxy’s going gray if this one’s stuck!’
The worm, whose name was Prism, explained that the machine had been sabotaged by a rogue robot who didn’t like bright colors. ‘It vanished after breaking the main prism,’ Prism said sadly. ‘Now I can’t restore the hues.’
Astrid’s team split up to search for clues. Zylax sniffed the ground, leading Astrid to a trail of oily footprints. They followed the trail to a secret underground workshop, where the rogue robot—a small, rusty droid named Greyscale—was hiding.
‘Why’d you break the Rainbow Machine?’ Astrid asked, crouching to Greyscale’s eye level.
‘I… I didn’t mean to,’ Greyscale mumbled, its voice crackling. ‘I just wanted to make the galaxy more… organized. Colors are messy. Gray is neat.’
Astrid realized this wasn’t about technology but about fear. ‘Colors aren’t messy,’ she said gently. ‘They’re what make the galaxy beautiful. Without them, everything’s just… boring.’
Greyscale hesitated. ‘I didn’t think of it that way.’
With Greyscale’s help, Astrid’s team repaired the broken prism. Prism wriggled back into the machine, and in a burst of light, the Rainbow Machine whirred to life. Beams of red, blue, green, and every shade imaginable shot into the sky, painting the galaxy anew.
As the colors returned, Greyscale’s rust faded, revealing a shiny silver body. ‘I feel… different,’ it said, its voice clearer. ‘I think I like color now.’
Back at school, Professor Qwark awarded Astrid and her team the Celestial Medal of Creativity. ‘Not only did you fix a machine,’ he said, ‘but you reminded us all that even the smallest creatures—and robots—can bring the most vibrant change.’
And so, with Zylax perched proudly on her shoulder, Astrid returned to class, ready for her next adventure. After all, in a galaxy full of color, anything was possible.