Martiase City (Mars), Year 2275
The Martian sun didn't burn anymore, it glowed. Its light filtered softly through the massive glass dome of Martiase, the capital of a new era. Fifty years of Federation technology and hard won peace had worked a miracle, the jagged, barren red craters of the past were now hidden beneath lush hydroponic greenery.
Sleek, crystalline skyscrapers reached for the sky, mirrored in the winding blue water channels that flowed through the city like life giving veins. Martiase had become an emerald jewel on a world that was once a graveyard.
On one of the highest balconies overlooking these terraformed plains stood 10 year old Riko. He stood still, his academy uniform crisp and his Federation insignia catching the light, but his mind was millions of miles away.
He was tracing a tiny, pale speck in the twilight sky, Earth. He had spent the morning in history class, captivated by the legends of Colonel Vidar and the brilliant Director Isabella Rose. They were the heroes who had saved the galaxy from Mirror Universe half a century ago, uniting 1,200 star systems into the massive Federation he now called home.
To most kids, the Mjolnir exoskeletons used by those heroes were the pinnacle of power. But to Riko, they felt... insufficient. He pressed his palm against the cool glass of the dome, his eyes reflecting an ambition that went beyond textbooks.
He didn't want a suit, he wanted a Giant Robot. He dreamed of a colossal machine that would tower over the tallest buildings, a sentinel of steel that could stand as a true symbol of peace.
As he stared into the stars, Riko wondered if his dream was even possible in an age of refined technology. What would he call such a giant? And, unknown to him, was there already a shadow in a secret lab somewhere, moving closer to his vision than he ever dared to imagine?
♠♠♠
Eight years blurred by in a whirlwind of equations and late nights at the Martiase Science Academy.
Upon graduation, Riko didn't hesitate. His compass had always pointed toward one place, the Mars Science Orbital. It was the crown jewel of Federation technology, the birthplace of Project Mjolnir, and the site of secrets that had ended the Temporal War fifty years prior.
Most graduates played it safe with their applications, but Riko's stood out like a flare in the night. He had anchored his entire graduation thesis to a "Giant Mecha" design a concept most Federation scholars laughed off as nothing more than a nostalgic, over-expensive daydream.
The Interview at the Science Orbital
When the summons for an interview finally arrived, Riko found himself in the Orbital's sleek waiting room, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was surrounded by the hum of crystal control panels and holographic schematics that mapped the future of the galaxy, yet he felt like that ten-year-old boy again, staring out from the balcony.
Finally, the heavy doors slid open.
Behind a long, translucent glass table sat the panel. He recognized Hana Hanifa and Ricky Sam, the sharp, younger supervisors pushing the boundaries of next-gen exoskeletons. But it was the woman standing beside them who took Riko's breath away.
She was elderly now, but she stood with a poise that commanded the very air in the room. Her silver-white hair was pulled back in a neat, professional knot, and her eyes sharp and piercing looked as though they had seen into the very heart of other dimensions.
Riko felt a jolt of recognition. He was standing before Director Isabella Rose, the woman whose face was on every textbook in the 1,200 systems of the Federation.
"Welcome, Riko of Martiase," Isabella greeted him. Her voice was surprisingly energetic, carrying a warmth that belied her formidable reputation.
"Your thesis on a 'Giant Mecha' is... bold, to say the least," she continued, her faint smile not quite reaching her calculating eyes.
"At the Science Orbital, we thrive on ambition. But we also respect reality a lesson we learned the hard way fifty years ago."
She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking onto his.
"So, tell us, Mr. Riko. Why a 'giant robot'? Why build something that dwarfs the Mjolnir suits? Are you simply dissatisfied with the peace we've worked so hard to keep?"
The challenge was clear. It wasn't just a technical question; it was a test of his character. Riko took a long, steadying breath, preparing to sell his lifelong dream to the woman who had turned her own "impossible" dreams into the world he lived in.
Isabella Rose tilted her head, her sharp, hawk-like eyes never leaving Riko's face. Beside her, Hana Hanifa and Ricky Sam exchanged a knowing look. They, more than anyone, remembered a time when Project Mjolnir itself was mocked as a fairy tale until the Mirror Universe arrived and turned their "fantasy" into the galaxy's only hope.
Riko felt the weight of their gaze. His pulse quickened, but he didn't shrink away. Instead, he leaned into the moment.
"Because with a machine of this scale, Director, we aren't just building a weapon. We're building a new tier of defense for the Federation," Riko began, his voice finding a steady, confident rhythm.
"A giant combat robot offers a psychological and physical presence that a suit simply cannot match. It's a mobile command post. We aren't just fighting in the vacuum of space anymore, we are holding ground on solid planets we've only begun to secure."
He paused, knowing he was about to reveal the heart of his work. "It's a vanguard. A shield. A mini-harbor for our fighters in the heat of a dogfight. But more importantly..."
Riko swiped his datapad, and a holographic projection shimmered into life in the center of the room. It was a graceful, silver-toned 3D model of his giant robot. Then, with a soft hum of simulated gears, the model began to shift in mid air. Limbs tucked, armor plates slid into new grooves, and wings swept forward.
"Even in its earliest stage," Riko said, watching the transformation complete, "this machine is designed to become a warship."
The hologram now showed a heavily armed vessel, its lines aggressive and built for the rigors of inter-system jumps.
Isabella remained stone-faced, but Riko caught a faint, unmistakable flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
"Transformation," Isabella murmured, reaching out to brush her fingers through the blue light of the projection.
"An intriguing concept, Riko. However, the Mjolnir records proved that speed and stealth win wars. A mass this size is a massive target. The energy needed to convert that much matter into a flight-worthy ship... it defies almost every cost and physics constraint we have on the books."
She turned her gaze back to him, her voice dropping to a challenging low.
"Give me a real technical reason, Riko. How do you intend to break the laws of physics on a battlefield without the whole thing tearing itself apart?"
Riko knew this was the trap. she was testing to see if he was a dreamer or an engineer. He moved quickly to show he wasn't just recycling her old breakthroughs.
"Director, I have the utmost respect for Mjolnir, but that was a design of its time," Riko explained.
"My project doesn't rely on rare or volatile temporal crystals. We're moving toward reinforced titanium-graphene alloys. They're stable, they're tough, and most importantly, they're ready for the assembly line."
He stepped toward the hologram, pointing to the ship's hull.
"And regarding stealth: I concede that Mjolnir is the ghost of the battlefield. But this machine isn't meant for hiding in a corner. Its cloaking is strategic."
He adjusted the display to show the energy flow.
"In warship mode, the energy usually reserved for mass conversion is diverted to a warp-signature disruption system. It's not about being invisible to the eye; it's about being invisible to the sensors. We falsify the mass-presence. To an enemy radar, we don't exist. Imagine a full-scale warship slipping behind enemy lines, undetected, only to transition into a combat Robot. It's the ultimate tool for shock and awe."
Isabella Rose leaned back, the skepticism in her eyes finally giving way to cold, hard calculation.
"Masking the warp signature of a mass that large..." Isabella whispered to herself, the words trailing off into the silence of the room.
Beside her, Hana Hanifa shook her head slowly, her face a mask of pure disbelief. It was becoming clear to everyone in the room that Riko wasn't just thinking big; he was trying to rewrite the very rules of engagement.
"It's a compelling vision, Mr. Riko," Isabella said, her voice regaining its sharp edge.
"But even to manipulate a signature like that, you'd need a reactor far more efficient than anything we currently plug into a Dreadnought. If you aren't using Mjolnir tech, what on earth is going to power this? What lies at the heart of your giant?"
Riko realized he'd let the word 'giant' carry a bit too much weight. He needed to ground the physics before he lost their confidence.
"Ah, my apologies, Director. I think I may have misused the term 'giant'," Riko corrected quickly, offering a humble smile.
"The size of this robot isn't comparable to a Dreadnought. Transforming a kilometer-long ship would be an impossibility. I'm thinking smaller more along the lines of a 21st-century Boeing aircraft from Earth."
He watched the panel as he emphasized the scale.
"Let's say seventy to eighty meters. In its warship mode, it would be classified as a light stealth frigate. So, yes, it's a very large robot, but by naval standards, it's a small ship."
The tension that had tightened Isabella's expression visibly relaxed. Hana and Ricky Sam traded a look of relief, the "Boeing-scale" clarification moved the project from the realm of "impossible" to "technically daunting."
"That is a vital distinction, Mr. Riko," Isabella said, a small, genuine smile finally returning to her face.
"If we are talking about light frigate scale, then your ambition becomes... achievable. It's no longer just a dream. Transformation and warp-signature cloaking, those are engineering hurdles we can actually clear with the technology we have today."
She reached out, taking Riko's datapad to swipe through the reactor core diagrams.
"You aren't using Mjolnir materials, so you have to rely on existing power. Explain to us how you plan to juggle the engines, the transitions, and the signature falsification all at once in an eighty-meter frame. Are you betting on the Federation's latest generation quantum fusion core?"
Riko nodded firmly, sensing the momentum finally swinging his way.
"Exactly. By leveraging the efficiency of quantum fusion, specifically paired with a liquid-metal cooling system I've outlined in my thesis, we can maintain all functions simultaneously at that scale."
He paused, taking a breath to officially give his dream its name. "The project is called Project Mechatronic."
"Project Mechatronic," Isabella repeated, letting the name settle.
"It's fitting. This is no longer science fiction, it's an engineering challenge. A transformable frigate that masquerades as a titan to deceive enemy sensors... that is a technology worth pursuing."
Isabella rose from her chair, and Riko stood instinctively, his heart thundering against his ribs.
"Congratulations, Mr. Riko," Isabella said, extending her hand across the table.
"You aren't just accepted into the Mars Science Orbital. And you won't be working as an assistant under Ricky or Hana."
She looked him in the eye, her gaze warmer now.
"You will be a Junior Project Director in the Advanced Structural Design Department. Project Mechatronic is officially your primary research assignment. I want to see proof that your giant can fly and fight within the year."
Freshly appointed and practically buzzing with adrenaline, Riko couldn't help himself. In a moment of sheer, unbridled enthusiasm, he found himself doing the unthinkable: correcting the living legend, Director Isabella Rose.
"Just one thing, ma'am," Riko said, his voice bright with excitement. "It's not a frigate. It's a Mechatronic robot!"
Isabella withdrew her hand, her eyes crinkling into a warm, genuine laugh.
"My goodness, you're absolutely right," she conceded.
"Old habits die hard, Mr. Junior Project Director. To those of us from the old guard, if it's eighty meters tall and it flies, it's a ship. But if you say it's a robot, then a robot it is."
She leaned forward, the professional distance melting into a look of real encouragement.
"It's an ambition worth chasing, Riko. You have the time, you have the funding, and you have the best team in the Federation behind you. I'll be personally overseeing your progress."
Riko nodded, energy practically radiating from him. Project Mechatronic was no longer a stack of papers in his bag; it was a reality. He wasn't just studying the legends anymore, he was standing among them.
Once the Director stepped away, Hana Hanifa and Ricky Sam, the seasoned veterans of the Mjolnir program, stepped in. They shared Riko's excitement, but their job was to tether his soaring dreams to the cold, hard reality of Martian engineering.
"Riko, your vision for a Boeing-sized machine is incredible," Ricky Sam said, his voice calm and grounded.
"But for a first flight, it's a massive gamble. We need to prove the soul of this machine before we build the body."
"We're recommending a fifteen-meter scale for the initial prototype," Ricky continued.
"At fifteen meters, we can integrate the Quantum Fusion Core and stress-test the transformation cycles without risking the entire Orbital if a reactor seal fails. We need to walk before we can tower over the city."
Hana Hanifa smiled, seeing the slight flicker of disappointment in Riko's eyes, and decided to offer a different perspective.
"There's another reason for fifteen meters, Riko," she added softly.
"It's about heritage. We noticed the 21st-century Japanese research notes in your thesis, the 'Gundam' models. That fifteen-to-eighteen-meter height is a revered size in the ancient legends of giant robots. It's where the dream started on Earth, long before we ever reached the stars."
She rested a hand on the holographic table.
"We start there, at the height of the legends. If the fifteen-meter Mechatronic proves the technology is viable, we won't just fund the eighty-meter version, we'll fast-track it."
Riko took a moment to let that sink in. He was a dreamer, but he was a scientist first. The logic was sound, and the historical poetry of the scale was too perfect to ignore.
"I understand, Supervisor," Riko replied, his smile returning.
"We start at fifteen meters. We build the legend from the ground up. Thank you for the guidance, and for keeping me grounded."
Riko walked out of the interview room with a new title, a focused target, and the weight of a century's worth of dreams on his shoulders. He was about to build the Federation's first true giant, a bridge between ancient science fiction and the future of Mars.