Kovacs sat at his workbench, the schematic of the Goblin hovering before him in its squat, unflattering glory. The design met General Patton’s requirements—a 10-ton, ultra-light mech built for speed, adaptability, and urban combat. Still, Kovacs couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. The Goblin was efficient, fast, and lethal for its weight class but also fragile. Too fragile.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as the room’s faint hum settled into the background. The Goblin’s Rawlins 70 KW engine was a marvel, pushing the unit to a cruising speed of 48.3 miles per hour and a maximum of 75.9 mph. It would move like a ghost on the battlefield, impossible to pin down—if the pilot knew what they were doing. But the light frame and compact cockpit left little room for error.

The weapon loadout, at least, gave him some confidence. The alpha configuration used two Fokker medium lasers, their balanced weight and power output fitting perfectly into the Goblin’s modular system. Paired with a Gremlin small laser for close-range engagements and a Daedalus Mk. II targeting system for precision, the Goblin packed a surprising punch for its size.

“Ugly little bastard, isn’t it?” came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Kovacs turned to see Nari stepping inside, tablet in hand and a knowing smirk on her face. She slid into the chair beside him, eyes scanning the schematic. “But it ticks all the boxes.”

“Yeah,” Kovacs muttered, rubbing his temples. “It’s fast, modular, and compact. But it’s also fragile as hell. A single solid hit, and it’s game over.”

Nari leaned forward, studying the configuration. “The Fokkers were a good choice—medium-range, reliable, and compact enough to keep the Goblin balanced. The Gremlin SL-4 is a decent backup for close-range skirmishes. And the Daedalus Mk. II? If that targeting system syncs properly, this thing could be a sniper in a knife fight.”

Kovacs nodded. “That’s the hope. The Daedalus will give the Goblin the precision it desperately needs. But I’m still worried about survivability. This thing can’t afford to take a hit, so the pilot must keep it moving at all times.”

“Then it’s not just about the machine,” Nari said thoughtfully. “The pilot’s going to need nerves of steel. The Goblin isn’t forgiving, but if it works, it’ll be lethal.”

Kovacs gave her a sidelong glance. “You think it’ll hold up?”

Nari grinned. “It’ll do more than that. It’s ugly, sure, but this little Goblin will surprise you. Sometimes, it’s not about looking good—it’s about getting the job done.”

He snorted softly, pulling up a few notes on the schematic. “Tell the engineers to build the prototype using the alpha configuration. Two Fokkers, one Gremlin, and the Daedalus Mk. II. Let’s see if it can perform as intended.”

“Got it,” Nari said, standing and tucking the tablet under her arm. “Anything else?”

Kovacs paused, staring at the Goblin’s squat frame one last time. “Yeah. Reinforce the gyros. The pilot will need them for evasive maneuvers at those speeds.”

Nari nodded, heading for the door. “Consider it done.”

As she left, Kovacs leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. He saved the schematic and sent it to the engineering team, his thoughts racing ahead to field tests and performance metrics. The Goblin wasn’t perfect—it was a compromise born of necessity and constraints. But sometimes, innovation meant embracing imperfection.

With the prototype ordered, all that was left was to see if this scrappy little machine could live up to its name.

***

Pitt sat back in her chair; arms crossed as she stared at the schematic of the Goblin hovering on her workstation. The machine looked like it had been cobbled from spare parts and bad decisions. Its squat, boxy frame and minimalist design might have met General Patton’s requirements, but to her trained eye, it lacked any sense of aesthetic or personal touch.

“Well,” she muttered to herself, tapping a stylus against her lip. “If this thing’s going to be ugly, it might as well be so ugly it scares the enemy off.”

She swiped her hand across the display, zooming in on the Goblin’s arms. The current design was optimized for modular weapon systems—clean, functional, and uninspiring. The Goblin had no close-quarters fallback beyond its Gremlin SL-4 small laser, which wouldn’t cut it in Pitt’s mind.

Leaning forward, she began sketching over the existing schematics, replacing the Goblin’s standard hand actuators with reinforced, spiked fists. The added weight slightly compromised its speed, but Pitt figured the trade-off was worth it. If the Goblin got stuck in close combat, it would need more than lasers to survive.

“Let’s give this little gremlin some bite,” she murmured, adding heavier plating around the fists to increase their durability. The spikes weren’t just for show—they’d double as ramming points, capable of punching through light armor or infantry fortifications.

She paused, admiring her handiwork. In her vision, the Goblin was uglier than ever—a true brute in miniature form. “There. Now it’s not just ugly; it’s terrifying.”

Pitt hit the comm panel on her desk, connecting to Nari’s line. After a moment, the engineer’s voice crackled through.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Pitt? What’s up?”

“I’m looking at this Goblin you’re prototyping,” Pitt said. “It’s fine for what it is but missing something.”

Nari sighed audibly. “You mean it’s not ugly enough for you?”

“Exactly,” Pitt said, grinning. “I’m sending you some updates. Shaped hands into heavier spiked fists. It will need more than lasers if it gets dragged into ground combat.”

“You’re adding weight to a 10-ton unit?” Nari asked, skepticism laced in her voice. “That’s going to impact its speed.”

“Barely,” Pitt countered. “The Rawlins engine can handle it. We’re talking fractions of a mile per hour; what it loses in speed, it gains in intimidation. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Nari groaned. “Fine, but if Kovacs loses it, I’m pointing him your way.”

“Let him,” Pitt said, leaning back with a smirk. “He designed it ugly. I’m just giving it personality.”

She ended the call; her mood lifted as she imagined the Goblin’s spiked fists smashing through whatever unfortunate target crossed its path. It wasn’t elegant, but elegance had no place on a machine like this. The Goblin wasn’t about beauty but about surviving—and winning—on the battlefield.

Let’s see how you like it now, Kovacs,” Pitt muttered, saving the updated schematic and sending it along.

***

The mess hall buzzed with idle chatter, but Jackie’s squad gathered at their usual corner table, all eyes fixed on Miko. He sat with an almost manic grin, barely able to contain his excitement as he tore into a ration bar, talking between bites.

“They picked me,” he said for the third time, his voice brimming with energy. “First pilot of a new mech. Brand new, fresh out of the assembly line!”

Jackie arched an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “A new mech, huh? What kind?”

Miko shrugged, his grin undeterred. “They didn’t tell me much. I just said it’s different. Lightweight. Fast. I report to the hangar at dawn to see it.”

Dren, sitting across from Miko, let out a low whistle. “Lightweight and fast? Sounds like they’re sticking you in a glorified go-kart.”

“Go-kart with guns,” Nira quipped, smirking as she rested her chin on her hand. “Still, first pilot? That’s big, Miko. Did they say why they picked you?”

Miko puffed out his chest. “Because I’m the best, obviously.”

Dren snorted, tossing a crumb from his ration bar at him. “More like you’re the one they can afford to lose if it blows up.”

Miko swatted the crumb away, but his grin didn’t waver. “Laugh all you want, Dren, but tomorrow, I’m the one climbing into history.”

Jackie leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Lightweight and fast, you said. They didn’t say anything else? No specs? No name?”

“Nope,” Miko replied, shaking his head. “Just that it’s a prototype, and I get to be the first to field test it. Whatever it is, I’m ready.”

The squad fell silent for a moment, each of them processing the news. Prototypes were rare, especially in their regiment. New mechs weren’t handed out casually, and being assigned to one meant the brass saw something in Miko—or the mech—that made the risk worthwhile.

“You nervous?” Nira asked softly.

Miko paused, his grin faltering for just a moment. “A little,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s untested, right? But that’s the whole point. I’m supposed to push it and see what it can do. If it’s bad, we’ll know. If it’s good…” He trailed off, his grin returning. “Well, then I get bragging rights for breaking it in.”

Jackie smirked. “Just don’t break it in half, Miko. Prototypes have a way of… falling apart.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss,” Miko said with a mock glare. “It’s not like I’ve never piloted a mech before. I’ve got this.”

Dren leaned in his tone teasing. “You better hope it’s not one of those stripped-down recon units. Lightweight and fast sounds like a death trap. I’d take a heavy tank any day over that.”

“Recon units aren’t death traps,” Jackie said, giving Dren a pointed look. “The Lee’s a recon mech, one of the most effective units we’ve got.”

“Yeah, because the Lee’s got proper firepower,” Dren said. “What’s the chance this new one has anything more than a popgun?”

Miko leaned across the table, jabbing a finger at Dren. “You’ll see. Tomorrow morning, when I’m tearing around the training grounds, you’ll all be eating your words.”

“Assuming it doesn’t explode,” Mira added with a grin.

The table erupted in laughter, and even Miko couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Despite their jabs, the squad’s support was unspoken but clear. Whatever Miko was walking into, they’d have his back.

***

The following day, Miko stood in the hangar, his boots echoing against the metal floor as he approached the row of mechs. He was dressed in a crisp pilot suit, his helmet tucked under one arm, and his heart pounding in his chest. A small group of technicians milled about, but one of them—a grizzled man with oil-streaked overalls—waved him over.

“Pilot Miko?” the man asked, his voice gruff.

“That’s me,” Miko replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

The technician gestured toward a squat, compact mech positioned under a series of floodlights. “Meet the Goblin. She’s yours.”

Miko’s jaw dropped as he took in the machine. It was unlike anything he’d seen before. The Goblin stood barely taller than two men stacked on top of each other, its frame blocky and utilitarian. Its arms ended in what looked like oversized fists, each one reinforced with jagged spikes. The cockpit was tightly fitted, almost claustrophobic, and the mech’s stance gave it the appearance of a crouched predator.

“It’s… small,” Miko said, blinking.

“That’s the point,” the technician said with a smirk. “Rawlins 70 KW engine makes it fast as hell. She’s packing two Fokker medium lasers, a Gremlin small laser, and a Daedalus Mk. II targeting system. Lightweight, modular, and deadly—if you can handle her.”

Miko approached the Goblin, running a hand along its armor. It wasn’t pretty—if anything, it was downright ugly—but something about its compact, aggressive design appealed to him. “What’s with the fists?” he asked, pointing at the spiked hands.

“Close combat backup,” the technician explained. “If you get cornered, those fists punch through light armor and infantry like paper.”

Miko grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

The technician chuckled. “You’ll be the first to put her through her paces. No pressure, huh?”

“No pressure,” Miko echoed, though his pulse quickened. He climbed to the cockpit, squeezing into the tight space and strapping himself in. The controls felt intuitive, almost familiar, and the targeting system blinked to life as the mech powered up.

“Goblin, huh?” Miko said aloud, testing the controls. “Guess we’ll see if you’ve got what it takes.”

The technician gave him a thumbs-up from below. “Take her out to the proving grounds. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As the Goblin took its first steps, Miko felt excited. The mech was fast—faster than anything he’d ever piloted. For all its awkward looks, it moved like a predator on the hunt. And for the first time, Miko felt like he might live up to the Goblin’s scrappy, relentless name.