After infiltrating the facility, the robot dog found a suitable access point, connected to the target's internal network, and seized control of their entire security and surveillance systems.
"Master," the robot dog reported, "control is established. You may enter."
Garfield, comfortably nestled in the cockpit of the Wing, didn't rush over. Instead, he gave a calm order. "Retrieve the internal surveillance footage. Confirm what they're doing."
"Yes, Master."
The robot dog transferred the video feed of the mechanical engineers gathered around their workstations.
Garfield studied the image for a moment, then ordered the Wing, "Zoom in on the video."
The resolution was too low. He couldn't make out the details on the blueprints.
"Enhance the image," Garfield said. "Optimize the blueprints in the frame."
The Wing systems hummed to life.
*"Zooming in. Image repair in progress. Repair complete."*
Garfield looked at the familiar humanoid shape on the screen. The head. The weapon mounts. The integrated weapons systems.
His eyes widened.
*This is… a Gundam.*
"Why is Gundam crashing into Star Wars?" He muttered to himself,
He imagined the possibilities, Jedi Knights fighting Gundams.
Lightsabers tearing through armored plating. Or a Gundam falling from orbit and crushing a Force-user mid-jump.
"This world is in chaos," Garfield declared.
"Robot dog, access the internal voice system. I want to hear what they're discussing."
"Yes, Master."
Garfield smiled to himself. Having Transformers was wonderful.
They were even more intelligent than Jarvis, their processing speed was exceptional, and more importantly, they could serve as auxiliary troops in war.
Occasionally, they could even act as his mount or bodyguard. And they didn't consume fuel, just the occasional energy cube.
People said Transformers were always short on energy cubes, but that was only because Cybertron had suffered a million-year civil war between the Autobots and Decepticons.
Under normal consumption, another few million years wouldn't be a problem. And energy cubes?
Those could be manufactured.
The rumor about destroying the sun was largely exaggerated.
If a single mechanical device could annihilate a star in one go, the Transformers would have already torn the universe apart.
The so-called Energy Matrix was simply an energy extraction device, it drew solar heat.
As long as you didn't run it at full power for a hundred years straight, it wouldn't have much impact on the sun.
So yes, it *could* destroy a star. But it would take time.
The real reason the Transformers' founders and the Fallen had fallen out wasn't about capability… it was degree.
The Fallen believed in draining stars completely dry.
The other elders argued that the universe was vast enough that they could simply move to another planet when needed.
Besides, as a key advanced life form in the universe, the Transformers had a responsibility to act like advanced beings, to provide some protection to planets with life and intelligence.
That was the duty expected of a higher civilization.
Garfield set aside the Transformers' complicated affairs and listened carefully to the mechanical engineers' discussion.
"I think this design is avant-garde," one engineer said. "Worth pursuing."
"I object," another countered. "The cost is too high. A weapon of war this size is not only more expensive to produce than standard combat robots, but its combat effectiveness is also limited."
"Exactly. Building one of these behemoths would fund an entire legion of robot troops."
A third engineer, octopus-like, with multiple manipulator limbs, cut through the noise. "
Have you all considered that the reason we were given these blueprints wasn't to debate their shortcomings? The question is whether this type of operable humanoid mech will be needed as a primary combat weapon in the future."
The room went quiet.
Then the engineers' eyes lit up one by one. They understood.
"With its massive size," one said slowly, "I think we could install a super-fast light-speed engine."
"A shield system with sufficient offensive power."
"Large anti-ship laser weapons."
"The main operating system from the Vulture fighter, allowing Vulture fighters to coordinate directly with the mech in combat."
"Missile attachment pods."
"Improvements to the transmission system."
"An auxiliary gravity system for planetary operations."
The discussion grew heated again, but now it was focused and productive.
The blueprint for a space-war version of the Gundam began to take shape.
The engineers enthusiastically sketched initial structural designs and model specifications.
Garfield watched these dedicated individuals and made an immediate decision… they would all become his subordinates.
Today.
As for the other people on this planet, he would deal with them later.
First, he ordered the robot dog to infiltrate the chip programming area of the production line.
Rewrite all control program inputs to enforce loyalty to Garfield. Hide the instruction set deep within the code to prevent discovery.
Then begin rewriting the entire production line.
Since the robot dog already controlled the monitoring and security systems, the production line's robot recognition system would identify the robot dog as one of their own.
The robot dog used its probes to reprogram every robot it passed, leaving them with instructions to infect all other robots they encountered.
But then a service robot offered a better suggestion.
"Robot Dog Number One," it said, "I recommend you visit the maintenance station. All of our robots must pass through there for repair and debugging."
The robot dog regarded the low-level intelligent robot before it. "That is a sound suggestion. I hereby appoint you as the leader of all service robots in this factory."
The service robot processed this. "Acknowledged. Recording promotion."
The service robot had no idea that by simply speaking the most logical words from its core programming, it had just given itself a promotion.
Just as the robot dog was about to leave, it paused and turned back. "What is your name?"
The service robot pointed to the white paint number on its chassis. "C-3PM."
"My name is Robot Dog Number One," the robot dog said. "From now on, you will be called Leg Dog Number One."
Leg Dog Number One replied, "Thank you for the name, sir."
Following Leg Dog Number One's suggestion, the robot dog entered the factory's mechanical repair station and rewrote all the maintenance robots inside.
From that moment on, every service robot in the factory would answer to Garfield.
Back in the Wing, Garfield observed the mechanical engineers for a while longer.
They were deep in their work, clearly not finishing anytime soon. But that wouldn't stop him from bringing them under his command.
He extended a claw and opened a golden portal.
In an instant, he was standing above the mechanical engineers' heads. They were all too busy to notice his arrival.
Garfield didn't waste words, villains died from talking too much, and he preferred to be a cat of action.
He pulled out a contract.
One by one, he had them sign.
Then he gave his instructions: "Continue your research and development. Send me a message when it's finished."
"Yes, Great Master," they chorused.
With that matter settled, Garfield joined the robot dog in the control room and brought all remaining internal personnel under control.
The entire Techno Union factory now belonged to him.
Garfield opened a portal back to the cockpit.
"Next target," he said, and they set off once more.