The Iron Nest was a masterpiece of defensive engineering. Its schematics revealed a city-fortress protected by twelve overlapping shield layers, each with a different energy frequency and regeneration rate. Its streets were kill-boxes covered by auto-targeting plasma cannons, and its central spire was a sensor-jamming monolith that could scramble an entire fleet's targeting systems. A direct assault would be a slaughterhouse for the Saiyan army.
For three cycles, Astra lived and breathed the Iron Nest. He consumed the data, cross-referencing power grid layouts with shield emitter placements, analyzing patrol routes against sensor blind spots. He used his [Stellar Forge] not to create, but to simulate, running millions of virtual assaults in his mind, each one ending in catastrophic failure.
The brute-force Saiyan approach was useless here. He needed a solution that was as elegant and insidious as the Tuffle design itself. He needed to think not like a warrior, but like a system. He needed to find the single thread that, when pulled, would make the entire tapestry unravel.
He found it in the environmental control network.
Beneath the layers of military-grade shielding, the Iron Nest was still a city. It required climate control, atmospheric processing, and waste management. These systems were considered non-essential, their networks less secure, interconnected with the primary command and control systems for efficiency.
Astra's plan was not to break the shields. It was to poison the well.
He compiled a new report, a masterpiece of malicious engineering. He outlined how a small, stealth insertion team—not of powerhouses, but of low-emission scouts—could access a maintenance conduit on the leeward side of the mountain the Nest was built into. From there, they could splice into the environmental control network.
His solution was a two-stage digital and biological attack:
1. The Code-Scourge: A computer virus, its architecture provided by Astra, that would piggyback on the environmental controls. It would lay dormant until it reached the central life-support processor, then activate, creating a cascading failure in the climate systems. It would override safety protocols, rapidly increasing oxygen levels and introducing a harmless, inert gas that, at high concentrations, would interact with the over-oxygenated air to become a potent, non-lethal neuro-toxin. It wouldn't kill the Tuffles; it would disorient them, slow their reaction times, and induce crippling migraines.
2. The Resonance Cascade: The virus's final act would be to seize control of the power grid regulators. It would create a controlled overload, not to cause an explosion, but to emit a specific, powerful energy surge through the city's own wiring. This surge was precisely calibrated to the resonant frequency of the primary shield generator's core, the same vulnerability Astra had identified before. The shield would not be attacked from the outside; it would be shattered from within.
The report was a work of art. It was a plan that used the Tuffles' own technological superiority against them. It was ruthless, efficient, and required minimal Saiyan force.
He transmitted the data to Borg, who delivered it to the high command with a look of grim awe on his face.
The silence that followed was longer this time. Two days passed without a word. Then, in the dead of night, the barracks were shaken by a distant, deep-throated rumble that wasn't an explosion, but the sound of a colossal energy field collapsing. The very air on Planet Vegeta seemed to vibrate with the shockwave.
The next morning, the news spread through the barracks like wildfire. The Iron Nest had fallen. The shield had dropped from the inside. The Tuffle defenders were found confused, sluggish, and easily overwhelmed. The victory was total. Saiyan losses were negligible.
Astra had not just found a way in; he had architectured the fortress's downfall from a thousand miles away.
The response from the throne was not a data pad or a nutrient synthesizer.
King Vegeta himself came to the low-class barracks.
He did not stride in with his usual entourage. He walked in alone, his footsteps echoing in the sudden, terrified silence. The warriors present fell to one knee, bowing their heads. Borg, standing by Astra's cot, did the same, his body tense.
The King ignored them all. His eyes were locked on Astra, who remained seated on his cot, looking up at the monarch with a calm he did not feel.
[Appraising: King Vegeta - Emotional State Analysis:]
[Primary: Vindicated Triumph.]
[Secondary: Avaricious Curiosity.]
[Tertiary: A flicker of... fear.]
The King stopped before him. He said nothing for a long moment, his gaze sweeping over Astra, taking in his small form, his neutral expression.
"You," the King's voice was quiet, yet it carried to every corner of the hall. "You have the mind of a Tuffle, but the heart of a Saiyan. A strange and potent combination."
He reached into a compartment on his armor and produced a single, stark black wristband. It was made of a matte, non-reflective metal, devoid of any ornamentation.
"This is a Direct Command Interface," the King said, holding it out. "It connects to my personal strategic network. You will no longer report through Borg. You will report directly to me. Your security clearance is now Gamma-level. You have access to all non-royal military databases. Use it."
He dropped the wristband onto the cot beside Astra.
"The war is turning," the King continued, his voice gaining its familiar, imperious edge. "The Tuffles are scrambling. I want more. I want their command structure collapsed. I want their homeworld defenseless. Find me the threads, Analyst. And pull them."
With that, he turned and strode out, the pressure of his presence vanishing as the doors hissed shut behind him.
The barracks remained silent for a full minute after he left. Then, slowly, the warriors rose. They looked at Astra, and then at the black wristband on his cot as if it were a venomous serpent.
Borg finally stood, his face pale. He looked at the wristband, then at Astra. The dynamic between them had shattered. Astra was no longer his charge. He was an instrument of the King.
Astra picked up the wristband. It was cool and heavy. He slipped it onto his wrist. It adjusted itself to his size with a silent click.
A flood of data immediately poured into his mind through the link. Ship movements, troop deployments, live feeds from the front lines, deep-space sensor logs, and the complete, unredacted technical archives of the Saiyan empire.
He had done it. He had gained unrestricted access to the very heart of the system he sought to destroy. He was now the Architect of Ruin for the Saiyan war machine, a position of immense power and even greater peril. Every piece of data he analyzed, every strategy he devised, brought him closer to his goal while simultaneously strengthening the empire he would one day have to undermine.
The path was laid before him, a tightrope stretched over an abyss. He had the King's ear and the keys to the kingdom. Now, he had to build his own escape route from inside the royal vault.