A demonstration. Decided almost unanimously by the powers that be of New Anaheim to be the simplest, and most effective way, to quell the growing fears of the populace. Some had disagreed, of course; nothing was ever unanimous in the city. Some probably disagreed just to disagree, but the others had more valid reasons. Not spoken in open air, of course, but it was suspected that such an expo might serve as a way of gathering intelligence on other factions. A fraction of those who voted to support such a measure likely did so for just that reason.

Nevertheless, the proposition had been approved, and arrangements were made. Now, a month after the attack to the day, a date no doubt picked for just that reason, it had started. The largest open space in the outskirts of the city has been set aside for the occasion, and it was now dotted with tents and stands, walking promoters and soldiers in uniform. And towering above it all, colossal titans gleaming in the sun. The militaries had sent their top models, and their top pilots, as a show of power, a way to reassure the populace that, yes, they could protect them. Contractors were showing off their new prototypes, or even just showcasing their most popular suits. Smaller, local businesses had set up their own shops, selling wares of all kinds. Mobile suits, mobile suit parts, pilot gear, even food stands had arrived to take advantage of the gathering.

Civilians were out in droves, and of course, soldiers were too. No nation was allowing themselves to be shown up, parading their best and brightest out in full uniform. At least, the best and brightest that they had managed to spare, or otherwise coerce into attendance. With the sun high in the sky over this unusually peaceful gathering, the day was still young. It promised demonstrations, mock battles, autographs, and merchandise, and above all, a cure to the growing unease.

Time would tell if it was effective.

Christoph Lockheed

Christoph took a bite into his burger, chewing away at the chicken at tomatoes. Dressed in a combination of a simple white t-shirt and trousers, the young man had arrived at the convention in casual attire rather than his military uniform. He wasn't here as a representative of the Commonwealth, after all - he was simply just another guest, intent on enjoying the warm and peaceful day. Yet even so, he had brought his mobile suit anyway, with the Javelin bent over behind him, covered by an overly large tarp to protect it from the light of the sun. The paintjob was sadly quite vulnerable to degradation, it seemed.

Burger finished, the MS pilot crumpled up the wrapping, throwing it at a nearby trashcan. It missed. Christoph shook his head. He needed to work on his aim. With a quiet sigh, he stood up and walked the short distance towards the trashcan. It wouldn't do to simply leave his rubbish lying around.

Crown Prince Ludwig III looked at the crowd from the tent of the Sandesgeist delegation set up near the corner of the open space. The soldiers and diplomats of the kingdom wore their dark green military uniform and the proud pickelhaube to stand out from other nations and civilians. Their Mobile Suits, the Rustungs were outside the tent, standing proudly to be seen as the symbol of the Kingdom's military. The Kingdom of Sandesgeist is one of the nations in Central Europe that fought in the wars century ago and became the dominant power of the region. They have a strong military that helped them survive centuries of war and the Rustung is one of the most powerful mass-produced Mobile Suits fielded. There is however news that a prototype is being designed as a next-generation Mobile Suit but the Chancellor of the Kingdom refused to display it in the parade.

The Crown Prince was able to look at the Mobile Suits of civilians and other nations and assumed most of them as inferior to his military's. He was hidden from public view and left the soldiers under his command to do what they want such as advertise their military prowess.

Noreille d'Amélie

The bright sun hang at the zenith of the cloudless blue sky, showering its warming beams of light onto the open space outside the city, where a demonstration was held to purge the looming concerns over the attack a month ago. The weather was fine, the participants mostly eager to demonstrate their power and influence, and it seemed that the better part of the citizenry was enjoying the scenery and the makeshift market as well. The protagonists of the show, however, was definitely the Mobile Suits, enormous humanoid fighting machines that had become the heart of warfare for probably at least a century. Their imposing bodies, as well as the collection of massive weapons they possessed, embodied their role as both platforms of destruction and protection alike.

However, all of these would be little more than an expensive pile of durable alloy and volatile particles if they were not miraculously pieced together and controlled as single beings. For centuries since the first battle wagon broke down in the mist of battle, maintenance and, by extension logistics, had been as important as the weapons themselves, and here was where the maintenance crew came in. As part of the defence force of the city, the maintenance crew made its appearance in the demonstration as well. However, with few exceptions, most of their works were centred around repairing and maintaining all these humanoid fighters in workable condition, for anyone who allowed them to do so. Among them was Noreille D'amélie, a young female pilot and mechanic. While her colleagues ran around among the people to keep the show from (literally) falling apart, she decided to focus mostly on the Mobile Suit of her own: the Étoile Tombante.

Painted in the dark azure blue of royalty of the old days, it was a medium-to-long range support Mobile Suit, a glorified battery, as some said. Its light-absorbing painting gave it a decent protection against unwanted light reflection, and its large beam rifle, as well as the even larger cannon backpack proved to be quite practical when dealing with most enemies it would encounter—after all, showering the enemy with high-power artillery and beam weapon without worrying counter-attack worked very well for millennia of human history, and it still hold true even in the age where humans wandered between planets and moons, bringing warfare with them.

After another routine maintenance of her reliable metallic guardian, Noreille hopped on the small scaffold attached onto a crane nearby, and delivered her down onto the ground. Putting her humble mechanic jumpsuit aside, she was now wearing her simple blue gown, one that demonstrated her supposedly blue blood without hampering movement or—when accidents happen, which it probably would—piloting of her Mobile Suit. It had a relatively high hemline, relying on her knee-socks, gown gloves and a small mantle to cover the rest of her tanned skin. Then, after working for the better half of the morning, she decided to take a short walk around the carnival for a much-needed break.

After a few steps, though, a ball of burger wrapping flew right before her eyes, before landing just short of the trash can nearby. With a short sigh, she bent herself over to pick up the litter, wrapping it tighter and threw it into the rubbish bin. Then, she turned around to see if the one nearly missed her was still around.

Christoph Lockheed

Christoph paused as the woman's gaze fell upon him. His original plan had been to rectify his mistake and dispose of the burger wrapping, but with his job now taken from him by the newcomer, he was left to awkwardly stand still, bereft of the purpose which had fuelled him to take steps towards the trashcan. He mentally shrugged. It did not matter. While he may have not fulfilled his task, there was a new one that awaited him.

Namely, thanking the woman before him.

The young man strode towards Noreille, stopping a few steps in front of her. He dipped his head down in greetings.

"Thank you," said Christoph quietly.

Noreille d'Amélie

Upon seeing the young gentleman dipping his head, Noreille returned the favour by a small curtsey, suiting her seemingly semi-formal clothes and somewhat mismatching the rest of the expo. If it was some ancient romantic comedy, odds were she would be one of those noblewomen who somehow ended up in commoner's quarters by abysmal navigation skills. Then again, given the number of countries present here, it might not be too far from the truth.

"It is but a simple work, but you are welcome." She said with a soft voice, before taking a quick scan of his body with her azure eyes, trying to determine his background and character. "Enjoying the expo, I presume?"

Christoph Lockheed

Christoph nodded. Although it was still early in the day, he had been finding the expo to be quite interesting, especially the myriad varieties of mobile suits that dotted the surrounding area. Very rarely had he been able to behold the weapons of other nations under such conditions; usually he would meet them upon the battlefield, where there was little time to admire their construction. These colossal titans were indeed a quite a sight: his own Javelin was rather beautiful in its own way, but there was certainly a sense of the exotic about the foreign machines.

"I am," he replied in his lightly-accented voice. "You as well?"

Noreille d'Amélie

"Well, I am here mostly here due to my job, but indeed I am enjoying this expo as well." Noreille smiled to Christoph before looking around the crowd in the carnival. It was certainly an enjoyable event given what happened lately, but something in her gut seemed to suggest that today might not end well for them. If anything, there were now multiple targets for any potential enemies like the mysterious Mobile Suit, and the crowd alone would make retaliation difficult—unlike the enemy, they had to prevent civilian casualties.

"It sounds like you are not of local birth, though? Where do you hail from, if I may ask?" Noticing his accent, Noreille seemed to be interested and continued asking.

Christoph Lockheed

"Australia," he replied.

During the war, his home nation had managed to avoid much of the damage that other countries suffered. The southern continent of Oceania, as a whole, had mostly been ignored by the major powers. It was true that Australia had been attacked several times during the duration of the conflict, but in comparison to its fellow members of the Commonwealth States, the country was the least worst for wear. After all, it was lacking in strategic importance, with only a few military bases to its name (including Torrington, which was quite close to his hometown). There was little to gain from attacking his country during the war, and the young MS pilot was thankful for that. Had the war been closer to his shores, his early life may not have been so peaceful.

Noreille d'Amélie

"Hmm, interesting. I heard it was quite hot, though?" Noreille asked. Although she had been living on Mother Earth since she could remember, generations of living in closed and well-controlled environment like the space colonies seemed to have bred some degree of temperature intolerance into her, as she slightly waved a fan to cool herself off a bit. Though, it did not stop her from taking a sip of hot tea from a bottle in her pocket. "So, I assume you are not coming from the other side of the globe just to see our city. Are you with the military or other similar organisations?"

IC: Christoph Lockheed

The mobile suit pilot shook his head. "Australia is quite temperate, actually."

Although from his companion's behaviour, it appeared as if she would not see any difference between varying climates. New Anaheim was rather hot from time to time (with the weather they were currently experiencing a clear example of such), but Christoph felt as if it did not exactly compare to his homeland. Then again, he was biased in such matters; for most of his life he had only been exposed to Australia's warm and sunny climate. Every other place he had visited during his time in the military felt much colder unless they were in tropical regions. Indonesia, he admitted, had been especially hot.

"I'm a pilot for the Commonwealth," Christoph replied.

A elderly well-fed man with a large mustache in military uniform entered the Crown Prince's tent. "Paperwork in this fine day, Crown Prince?" He asked.
The Crown Prince Ludwig turned his attention to the old man. It was none other than the Chancellor of the Kingdom. "Chancellor Roth." He stood up and saluted. The Chancellor was his mentor in diplomacy.
Chancellor Roth returned his salute. "I suggest you go out of your tent, Crown Prince." He suggested.
The Crown Prince raised his eyebrow. "I have already been Chancellor." He replied. "I had a look at the Mobile Suits of other militaries. I assume them to be inferior to our Rustungs."
Roth laughed. "Crown Prince, I suggest it as part of your diplomatic training." He insisted. "Our people in this fair will be assured of security when the Crown Prince is seen. It is also our way to boast our glory: our soldiers, Mobile Suits and the Crown Prince himself."
Crown Prince Ludwig saw that the Checellor was right. He closed his dossier. "I will be doing so." He folded and saluted before leaving his tent.

The Crown Prince looked around the vicinity of his tent. He found his soldiers patrolling, speaking to some interested civilians, brandishing their Rustung or one soldier letting a child try on his pickelhaube. He ignored them and walked around.

Hunter S. Marlowe

Hunter was on a mission, namely to record as much information on this expo as he possible could. It was the duty of a reporter to cover all the important stories of his time, and this expo certainly fit the bill. It had come at a great time too, as Hunter hadn't been paid for a case in quite a while, covering the expo was bound to increase the sales of his newspaper, and for that he was truly grateful. All around him stood the pinnacles of military technology, from the towering mechs to the ace pilots to the newest weapons, it was a display of power, and Hunter was doing his best to cover it all.

He'd already stopped and interviewed a fair number of citizens and soldiers, but he still felt that there was more to be done, more to be covered. This was a great opportunity for the young reporter and he was determined not to waste it. After all it would also make for a great comparison spread over the abilities of the Earth militaries and the mysterious new mobile suit. This was the response of the nations of the world, and Hunter planned to convey that response to the people.

Hard at work, Hunter was alternating between scanning the crowds and jotting down details in his notepad. He'd made sure to come early, and had even jotted down notes about the set up process. As a reporter who had to cover the event from start to end, Hunter knew he was in for a long day. Around his neck was his other tool of the trade, his handy camera. Hunter had made sure to take photos of all the suits and he definitely didn't want to miss a single moment. Unfortunately the old camera wasn't capable of constant photo taking and was already running low on memory.

As he continued roaming around the convention, Hunter came upon a familiar face, Christoph Lockheed. A pilot for the commonwealth, Christoph was a frequent coffee buddy and more importantly, a "trusted informant" for Hunter. Running across Christoph at the expo was definitely in his favor. Running behind his pal, Hunter grabbed the pilot's shoulder. "Yo Christoph, long time now see. So got any new scoops for me?"

It was then that Hunter noticed the woman standing in front of them, and it became evident that she had been in the midst of conversation with Christoph. "She a friend of yours?" Hunter asked his informant, before holding out a hand towards the woman. "The name's Hunter, Hunter S. Marlowe, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Care to offer up your thoughts for the news?"

Noreille d'Amélie

"Does it not have a big desert, though? I vaguely remember seeing one on an old map." Noreille commented, seemingly unaware of the fact that she herself had a tanned complexion, one that people would probably associate with hotter climate. "Not that I have been to there... I am mostly a resident of the city, working here as a mechanic and guard, so to speak."

Soon, the conversation was cut short, as a young reporter entered the scene and introduced himself to her. After another smile, Noreille extended her unworked hand towards Hunter and made a gentle handshake. "My name is Noreille d'Amélie, it is my pleasure to meet you, mister. Both the weather and the people are perfect for the occasion, and as far as I can tell, there are no mysterious Mobile Suits rampaging around, so I would say it is performing its intended purpose well."

Christoph Lockheed

Hunter S. Marlowe. A frequent companion of Christoph's whenever he went out for lunch. While he knew little about the other man, he did consider him to be a friendly acquaintance of his, and he did quite enjoy the newspaper that Marlowe published. It was rather interesting, and from time to time it could be somewhat thought-provoking. It was clear that Marlowe possessed a certain way with words that was definitely intriguing to the Commonwealth pilot. On the other hand, the paper was incredibly low-budget, and from his weekly readings, he had noticed a boundless number of typos.

"None," he said simply.

It was somewhat flattering that Marlowe assumed that he could provide the reporter with any sort of scoop. In their constant meetings at the café near the War Memorial, the pilot had never actually talked much, preferring to listen to his companion's endless diatribes on the nature of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Christoph had never been an overly talkative sort, after all. Still, if his presence assisted Marlowe, more power to him.

"I'm from the coastal regions," explained the mobile suit pilot, redirecting his attention to Noreille.

Hunter S. Marlowe

"Indeed, Miss d'Amélie, it is a great day for the event. I do appreciate your input," Hunter replied to the young woman, "If you wouldn't, I'm sure our readers would be very interested in knowing what brings you out to this event, and perhaps what you've enjoyed the most so far?" Hunter asked, trying to gain a little more information, after all every viewpoint helped in the drafting of a story.

Turning his attention back to Christoph, Hunter couldn't help but sigh, "Come on mate, you've always got something for me. Tell me what's the latest Commonwealth secret? The newest Mobile Suit in production, any little detail helps man." Hunter pleaded of his "informant." Acquiring more knowledge was a quintessential part of being a reporter, and Hunter was well aware that sometimes one had to pry a little before getting the information they desired. However he was also sure that Christoph had to know something.

Christoph Lockheed

"Nothing that I know of," replied the Commonwealth pilot with a slight shrug. "Sorry."

It was the same as always - Hunter would pester him for any secrets that his nation held, and he would respond in the negative. Christoph was not exactly some high-ranking officer, after all. There was very little that he could reveal to the reporter, and if anything was classified, he would most likely not do so. Although it was quite strange how his companion would take his offhanded comments as revelations, and somehow dig up information that was only tangentially related to his words yet surprisingly newsworthy. It was still awkward, obtaining praise for providing links to information he had absolutely no idea about.

Zane Decker

Zane wandered the Expo grounds in his uniform rather than the more comfortable civilian clothes. He had been on duty at the Jaunde exhibit for much of the morning and his superiors, knowing what he was like when left to his own devices had issued an order to remain in uniform. Zane had to admit the order was given to all Jaunde military personel but he couldn't shake the feeling that his superior had been emphasising the order specifically for him. not that it bugged him too much, afterall he was far from the only soldier in uniform today during their free time.

Those at the Jaunde compound had been eager to make a good showing today to help aliviate the fears of the city populace, not that it suprised Zane, the same thing was done in Jaunde during the war in order to keep the peoples spirits up. It wouldn't have surpised Zane at all if it had been someone from the Jaunde compound that had suggested the idea to the powers in charge of New Anaheim in the first place. Not that it mattered who's idea it had been the important part was that it appeared to be working.

Zane had kept his attention of the Mobile Suits on display and the supporting vendors. The majority of nations utilised humanoid suits he realised as he saw very few that deviated from the design it actually surprised him a little. As a pilot of a quadurped design the speed and agility he felt was unmatched, something he valued highly in any mobile vehicle. He had heard the engineers in Jaunde had a new prototype based on the BuCUE's design in testing but had not had the time to get it to New Anaheim in time for the expo. A shame, Zane would hae liked to have seen it here. While Jaunde was only a single city they were prodly displaying the few BuCUE's stored at the compund including Zane's which still bore a few carbon scoring marks on its armour from the battle a month ago. They also had a few of Jaunde's Mobile Armour units there that had been brought up just for the occasion, while somewhat less impressive the Jaunde delegation in the city was not going to leave them out just becuse they didn't match the same performance statistics as most factions suits. The one thing all of Jaunde's display had in common however Zane had realised was that with the exception of the BuCUE's beam sabers all weapons technology was at least a generation behind the majority of the other factions.

This was particularly noticeable in Zane mind as he entered the area of the Expo that held the Sandegist kingdoms forces. Thier Rustungs had an impresive arsenal available to them though while they were also confined to the ground like Jaunde's BuCUEs Zane estimated a BuCUE would be capable of running circles around a Rustung which put Zane in mind of an old earth cartoon about a flightless bird and a dog of some kind. 'One cant kill what they cant catch afterall' Zane thought as he stopped and grinned up at the hulking figure of one of the Rustungs.

One of the Sandesgeist soldier noticed Zane looking as their Rustungs. Anyone can tell that the soldier is enlisted by the leather strap on his pickelhaube while officers have metal straps. "I see you're interested with our Rustung." He called. "I can say we have one of the best Mobile Suits in the world. It has the beam weaponry, armour and vulcan cannons as a token non-beam weapon. We've been using this design since the last days of the war." The soldier thought about the drawbacks of their hulking titan. "If you need a drawback, I can say it's pretty expensive to manufacture them but we managed due to our Royal Family holding strong ties with banks. Also, the sub-flight system is needed for any flying and it's pretty heavy for this size."

The Crown Prince looked at the talkative soldier explaining their military's symbol to a civilian. He might as well let him do the talking to peasants.

"Not to mention the technology it's based on is relatively outdated, and its maneuverability leaves something to be desired" trailed a voice off to the side. Emily Won had spent the earlier parts of the day strolling through the booths and exhibits, sizing up the mobile suits and equipment each faction had put on display. There was still a couple hours before she was needed again at the ESF's display, and she intended to make good use of her time before she had to be on-duty again.

"For a mass-produced suit on the front line, it does its job. When compared to some of the newer designs being rolled out, though, you could do better." Emily pointed to the Rustung towering above her. "It's got an impressive beam arsenal, but that's to be expected of just about any current-gen mobile suit. If was only modernized a little, you'd have an even better performing machine. Newer internals and electronics packages and a lighter alloy would do well to improve on its design."

As if to apologize for her intrusion and criticism of the Rustung, Emily quickly added, "But I'm sure the Sandesgeist Military gets by just fine with them, doesn't it?" The ESF pilot flashed her companions a smile.