The Ouroboros reverted to real space in a desolate system, its star a sullen red dwarf. Drifting amidst a cloud of its own crystallized coolant was the Hope's Legacy. It was a large, generational ship, its design bulbous and utilitarian, now scarred by a catastrophic engine rupture amidships. Its power signature was faint, flickering. Life support was indeed failing.
Astra docked with the main airlock, his ship a tiny, dark predator against the dying whale. As the hatch sealed, he prepared for a potential confrontation. He was an unknown, arriving in a mysterious vessel.
The inner airlock door hissed open. He was met not by armed guards, but by a huddle of emaciated, hollow-eyed people. Their clothes were worn, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair. They were a mix of species—humans, a few bipedal reptilians, and others he didn't recognize. At their front stood a woman, her uniform frayed but her posture straight, a fading data-pad in her hand.
She looked at him, her eyes widening at his Saiyan-like appearance and his small stature, but also at the immense, calm power that radiated from him. "I... I am Captain Elara," she said, her voice raspy. "You... you received our signal?"
"I did," Astra projected, his mental voice gentle but firm, filling the corridor. "My ship is small, but I can repair yours."
A wave of desperate, disbelieving hope passed through the crowd. They ushered him through the ship's dim, cold corridors to the engineering bay. The scene was one of absolute disaster. The primary engine core was a blackened ruin, its housing split open. Backup batteries were at 3%.
Astra's [Appraisal] and [Stellar Forge] analyzed the damage instantly. The core was a total loss. Standard repair was impossible. But he didn't need standard repair.
"Your core is beyond saving," he stated, and a collective groan of despair went through the engineers present. "But I can give you a new one."
He didn't wait for permission or disbelief. He raised his hands, and Cosmic Energy flared around him. He reached not for tools, but for the fundamental forces in the room. Using the ruined core as a template, he began to weave a new one from raw energy, compressed matter, and the principles he had learned in The Cradle. It was a display of power that was nothing short of divine. Molten metal cooled and reshaped itself into a perfect housing. Wires re-knit. A new, humming power core—more advanced and efficient than the original—materialized from the void.
In less than an hour, the engine bay was whole again, lit by the steady, powerful glow of the new core. Life support systems whirred back to life, and warm air began to circulate.
The crew stood in stunned, tearful silence. Captain Elara looked from the new engine to Astra, her composure finally breaking. "Who... what are you?" she whispered.
"That is not important," Astra said. "Your ship is repaired. You can continue to your destination."
He turned to leave, his part done. But Elara's voice stopped him.
"Wait! Our destination... it was a lie. The colony world we were promised was already strip-mined by the PTO. We have nowhere to go. We were just... drifting until the end."
Astra paused. This changed things. Two hundred and twelve refugees with no home. They were skilled, they were desperate, and they owed him their lives.
He made a second, calculated decision.
"I am building something," he projected, his voice echoing in the silent bay. "A sanctuary. A new world, hidden from the powers that would exploit or destroy you. It is not yet finished. The work is hard, and the future is uncertain. But there is a place for you there, if you wish to build it with me."
He was offering them not just rescue, but a purpose. He needed more than just Saiyans for his colony; he needed engineers, biologists, farmers. A diverse gene pool. A society.
Elara looked at her people, at their gaunt, hopeful faces. Then she looked back at Astra, her decision clear in her eyes. She bowed her head, a gesture of profound respect. "We have seen what you can do. Our lives are yours. We will follow you, Architect."
The title was born in that moment, not of a Saiyan king, but of a saved people.
He led them back to the Ouroboros. His ship was far too small, so he did the impossible once more. Using Cosmic Energy, he enveloped the entire Hope's Legacy in a stabilized warp bubble, a temporary pocket of spacetime that would allow the larger ship to travel in his wake.
The jump back to Vesper was a strain, even for him, towing a vessel of that size. But when they reverted to orbit above the pristine, jewel-like world, the gasps from the Legacy's viewports were all the reward he needed.
He had set out to save lives and had returned with the first citizens of his new empire. The Legacy's choice to follow him had just provided the most crucial resource of all: hope, given form in 212 souls. The foundation of his colony was no longer just energy and stone; it was now made of people.