Global Defense Trade Fair IC

[Niederthal]

https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=515382&start=25

As the sun rose over the river and illuminated the land, the builders and other contractors were already busy at work. There was much to be done, but many to do it. The Trade Fair Hall was the biggest building in the small land, and it was to be filled. For the locals, it was a welcome site. The pandemic had made all such conventions virtual, but now it was to be live and in person and bigger than ever. Rumor had it, that no one was more pleased than his serene highness, as the princely coffers were hard hit by the pandemic and the Prince had a financial interest in most of the local companies involved.

The ruler himself was not present, but his trusted representatives, Karl von Schneider and Baron Siegfried von Blauberg arrived shortly after the sun. The former was the CEO of the Trade Fair and the later the Minister of Trade. Satisfied with the preparations they headed to the nearby Hôtel Princier for breakfast.

"The Eggs Benedict is highly recommend" suggested the Minister, although he had just ordered a croissant with ham.

"Thank you Herr Minister" replied the younger man. "I have heard good things about it, but today I prefer a heartier breakfast. Von Schneider then proceeded to order six scrambled eggs and a side of bacon and a toasted roll.

"A heavy breakfast that is" was the disapproving response of Baron Blauberg. Not dwelling on the subject, he instead moved on to business. "I am quite satisfied with the progress of the preparations. The local vendors should be finished by the afternoon. The lads have worked hard."

"I am not satisfied, but then again, I am never fully satisfied as a matter of policy. Much could have been done better and the vendors wouldn't take so long if they were all on time, and if there wasn't that delay with the plumber" explained von Schneider before taking a sip of his black coffee. "Is Frau Kluge coming, there are things that I must discuss with her."

"Don't blame yourself over the toilets, those things happen. As for my assistant, she will meet us after breakfast."

"I don't blame myself and do not worry about me being in a state of discontent. It is my normal state, and I am used to it. I wish Frau Kluge was here, she is a most capable woman and is familiar with all aspects of the thing."

[New Visayan Islands]

Lauren I. Tan
Niederthaler Trade Fair Hall, Niederthal
February 18th, AD 2022
0355 Local Time

Lauren had woken up to something on his mind. The co-founder of the Visayan fashion house Nabong, Ramirez, and Tan had seen the Confederation's premiere fashion house from its founding in August 2007, with fellow designers Jasper Nabong and Ignacio Ramirez, to this very day. The dynamic nature of the fashion industry meant that NRT, as it was nicknamed, had to be as adaptable as possible. This adaptability had seen NRT survive Jasper's death in early 2019 and the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic; the expertise of the house would be repurposed to making both drab but functional hazmat suits--indeed, it was accredited by the Visayan Office of Occupational Safety and Health as a producer of reliable Level B through D hazmat suits--and face masks, both the plain-jane surgical type and the cloth masks that were just as stylish as the dresses it still designed for the catwalk.
He checked his watch: it was almost four in the morning, and the sooner he and his team were ready, the better. A fashion house might seem out of place to a casual observer, but PPE was a steady source of income in these times, and COVID or no COVID, hazmat suits were never unneeded.

[The Selkie]

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
Hôtel Princier.
Early birds and so on - that had been our thought. The World Defense Trade Fair on the Niederthaler Trade Fair fairgrounds was the largest defense fair we had participated in so far.
Granted, our products were designed precision and long range weaponry for specialized applications, like police or private persons wishing to pay a bit more for a higher quality product.
Our products were not for the conscript with little idea about how to not shoot oneself into the foot.
Be that as it may, we had a small booth in the fair, a Collection of our current lineup with a few users to spice it all up a little bit... and with a few models of Bicini Industries to pose and to answer questions about the weapons in the showcases around them.
I, however, was grabbing breakfast before the show began.
I had stayed up late last night, talking with my youngest son over the internet as he told me about how he would participate in the Cuan City Youth Trophy and would win it - sadly, the girl, who he wanted to be his Sponsor had not yet gotten the hint, but I had told her mother to nudge her gently (knowing Amy, she would go at it like a Scalefang with half-cooked noodles shoved up its rear).
Still, I managed to look quite good and splendid this morning: My black hair was brushed out, my pantsuit immaticulate, the choker with the small pendant my husband had gifted me rested around my neck. I was ready to face the day as bright and early as the early bird and his worm.
Only that my breakfast would be Eggs Benedict, recommended by the house. It sounded delicious even if I had no idea, who this Benedict was. Tea would complete the meal.
In any case, I spotted the local minister of trade and the head of the fair and gave them a polite nod as a way of greeting, then sat down with my breakfast, waiting for what was to come.

Yvain Saighead of the Tribe of Westmeath.
World Defense Trade Fair - SDY-Booth.
Early birds and so on - early fishermen, too, apparently.
I watched as our technicians put on the last touches on our booth and especially finished the wiring on the coup de grace: Aside from the usual screens and a diorama with scale models of everything SDY had to offer in the ways of military vessels, there was also a hologram projector center stage. It would project 3D holograms over the heads of the visitors of our booth and while they would be scaled down to something appropriate, the show and the accompanying animations would be a sight to see.
Aside from marketing people like me and technicians, there were also a few officers of the SDF-Navy present, ready to talk about their experiences aboard our ships.
I smiled at the sight, dressed to impress.
And I was not the only one: Coming from the not-yet public crowd was a familiar figure, a brunette, who's age of fourty-nine one would not guess at first glance - sure, she had a certain maturity, but maybe it was her style of dress, the Geansai in her Tribe's Colours, which made Gwen Banphrionsa of the Tribe of Cavan, CEO of Gabha Blacksmiths, look a decade younger.
The skimpy fur outfit suited her well, I had to admit, although she held no candle against my wife. On the other hand, Gabha was our main supplier for everything that had a gunbarrel and one of their associated companies, Gabha Motorworks, produced the engines for our ships (provided they were neither nuclear nor sails).
"Good morning, Gwen.", I greeted with a polite bow, "May I say, that you look fantastic?"
"Oh, please.", Gwen replied with a small wave of her hand, "You say that to every woman - and don't reply, that there are only few, where you mean it!" She was grinning as I closed my mouth. "It's good to see you, Yvain, but is Nora somewhere around?"
"I'm afraid, that she stayed in Silverport.", I told her. Gwen deflated slightly, her best friend was not around. "Tyran's sick."
"Dang.", Gwen replied. "Please relay my best wishes. And to Gwenny as well."
I nodded. "Sure." A beat. "How's your booth coming along?"
"Fiona is looking over the last details. It was great of the SDF to give us a few MFC-men to have them explain the virtues of our products... I almost feel bad for Eabhar."
"They have models and the Ionchoisne."
Gwen tsked. "Well, if they want private persons and polices, good for them. We're in a different market.", she added, "Speaking of different markets... have you seen, who else is around?"
"I'm sure, that you aren't talking about your two lassies of Mangaire.", I replied with a grin.
Mangaire's booth was small, but the two people attending it, Kiana Rúisc of the Tribe of Waterford and Caja Rois of the Tribe of Fermanagh, made up for that with their youthful energy and spirit. Sure, Mangaire was only an arms dealer, not a producer, but one could always look around and especially if one needed something less legal.
Gwen shook her head. "While I envy the two for their youth and spirit, no." I nodded, urging her to continue. "Monarcha."
"Really?"
I was surprised - Monarcha Aircraft Factories wasn't usually at such fairs. They mostly catered to the civilian market or built their drones for all sorts of applications (including on our ships), so they had a toe in the military market, not even a foot.
"Yes, really." Gwen smiled. "They have quite the impressive booth, including one of their new mini-drones - barely longer then my pointer." She showed the finger for emphasis. "I suspect, that we'll see that one fly around a bit over the day."
"I would hope so.", I said and wanted to add something, as my pager reported a message. "I'm sorry, Gwen, I..."
She raised a hand. "Go. I must go back, too."
"See you later?"
"Aftershow Party.", she said and turned.
"Best regards to Fiona.", I asked and she waved over her shoulder, she had acknowledged.
I turned as well, looking at what was going on now.
It would be a fun day for sure!

[Asucki]

The Sun Still Slept

February 18, 2022

03:46

Alex Cross reached his arm out from under the blanket. This was in an attempt to find the phone that had rudely forced him from his sleep. His thoughts were muddled and confused. His mind was temporarily trapped in the kind of conscious sleep that one finds themselves in when they are forcibly roused from their slumber. He was eventually able to find the phone and turn off the alarm. His thoughts came rushing back to him as his mind escaped from its conscious sleep.

He remembered that he was in Niederthal, the host nation for the World Defense Fair. His employer, Kestrel Military Contracting, had sent him to run their booth at the event, and the Private Military Company Guild that KMC recently joined had selected him as one of its representatives. Wandering over to the window of his room in Hôtel Princier, he looked out at the nearby fairgrounds. The sun still slept. He watched the street below in silence, appreciating the quiet and mysterious aura of the early morning.

He wanted to get to the fairgrounds well before the event was opened to the public to make sure everything was set up in time. Introducing himself to the other Guild representatives was also on the agenda. Having changed into the next day's outfit before going to bed the previous night, a relatively common practice in Asucki, all he had to do was leave the hotel.

[USG Security Corporation]

Hôtel Princier,
Neugruenstein,
Niederthal

Like many of their contemporaries joining the Trade Fair, the USGSC contingent had also booked rooms in the Hôtel Princier. There were other accommodations that they could have made, but this hotel was the highest rated and they also were aware that many others attending the Fair would be staying there after some casual questioning of the hospitality staff. Singh was keen to stay nearer to both potential clients and potential foes.

After arriving the previous day, they had secured adjoining rooms on the fifth floor that overlooked the harbor that the river fed into and a good part of the downtown area. This wasn’t because the USGSC personnel were particularly fond of each other, but solely for security purposes. The less mystery rooms between them, the less chance of eavesdroppers and interlopers.

Gordie Teverly and Mandrakhar Singh were, in fact, not very fond of each other at all. While they respected each other professionally, it would probably take a monumental effort for them to get over their mutual dislike of the other. Still, due to the nature of this event, they would need to attempt to get along.

Along with Teverly, the other USGSC person to work their booth was an officer in the Intexa, like Singh. Unlike Singh, Mark Lebovič was here, not under his real identity, but an alias, solidified with a genuine Taraniman passport, visa, and papers under the name of Ion Ciobanu. Lebovič could never risk using his real name on any mission, let alone one so public as this. With some slight cosmetic surgery changes done by an in-house Intexa surgeon, they had altered his face enough that the Danlinian’s old life was comfortably behind him for any future Intexa missions he might be tasked with. The reason for the precautions was a long, sordid story.

Singh and ‘Ciobanu’ got along just fine and would be coordinating with each other, so that one would always man the booth, while the other was out networking and scoping out the competition, or aggressively seeking new clients. Singh was not going to concern himself with what Teverly would be up to.

They all managed to leave their rooms around the same time that morning, congregating in the hall.

Singh was immaculately dressed in a custom charcoal tailored suit from Jedeur in Paritte, Gaul, and wore his claret pagri (or turban) with the USG Regimental badge pinned in the center. He straightened a matching claret and pale blue striped tie as he strode towards his compatriot.

As they waited on Teverly, Ciobanu struck up small talk as he dropped a large duffel bag containing some banners and other gear for their booth at his feet.
“Cross is going to meet us downstairs?”

Mandrakhar nodded.
“Yes, in that little bistro area.”

“You have a description?”

“I have a picture, Ion. Provided via Kestrel.”

“Excellent. I need some coffee. Where is Teverly?”

“Behind you.” The USG PR man answered.

“Gordon.” Mandrakhar nodded, shifting to the older man.

“Singh.” Gordon nodded back as they eyed each other. He hiked a slung knapsack up higher on his shoulder. He wore a maroon polo with the Regimental logo, along with a light, dark windbreaker over it. He lightened his mood as he looked back to Ciobanu.
“Let’s go get that coffee, shall we, mate?”

They all moved in unison to the elevators, then made their way to the first floor lobby of the hotel to order their beverages at a counter and wait for Alex Cross to join them. While Teverly and Ciobanu carried bags with some considerable weight, Singh just had a small satchel that contained various papers and a GXT 230 tablet.

Ion (aka Mark), also wore one of the maroon USGSC logoed polo shirts, although anything that drew attention to himself other than drab, neutral colored clothes made him feel uncomfortable. To alleviate that, he wore a black outdoorsmen jacket with adequate pockets over the polo, and grey denim pants with rugged, hiking shoes.
Ion also got a couple pastries while waiting on their drink orders, not sure he would consume both, but hoping to be gracious and share.

They sat at a four top table, with their to go cups. Singh sipped his tea, while the others drank their local java brews. Mandrakhar declined the offer of a pastry from Ion.
“That’s him approaching now.”
Singh nodded his head slightly over in the direction of the lobby to where he spotted Cross.

Alex approached the table where the group sat, his own drink in hand. He had been provided with images of the others, and finding them didn’t end up being much of a challenge. He took a seat in the empty chair and spoke. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said with a diplomatic smile.

Singh stood up.
“Mr. Cross. A pleasure to finally meet face to face.”
He stuck out his hand. The others stayed seated, but nodded their heads.

“Morning.” “Mornin’, mate.”

Alex reached out and shook Singh’s outstretched hand.

Ion pushed the plate with the extra pastry on it towards Alex.
“Ion Ciobanu. My eyes were bigger than my stomach, as they say. You’re welcome to the extra.”

Smiling, Cross reached over and grabbed the pastry. “Well, I can’t say I have the same problem.” He put it up to his mouth and took a bite.

Ion smiled back. “Excellent!”

While Cross was munching, Singh spoke,
“Alex, I wanted to pick your brain as to what marching orders, so to speak, you had from Kestrel about approaching clients and where your focus should be. We don’t want to step on your toes. Gordon here is going to be helping field Guild questions, along with more conventional contract talk for the USGSC, while Ion and myself handle Intexa business and drum up clientele for that, but we will assist on some Guild relations, also…”

Alex nodded in understanding. Not wanting to be rude to his companions by talking with his mouth full, he waited until he had finished the pastry before giving his response. “The suits gave me quite a bit of free reign over this one. Not sure what specifically I’ll be focusing on. We’ll just have to see what the clients seem most interested in. If you have any Guild-related business you’d like my support with, I’d be happy to help out and leave my fellow Kestrels to KMC business. Whatever works.”

“Brill! Staying flexible and easy! A bloke after my own heart. Leave the strategizing after the contract ink is drying, I say.” A smirk to accompany the barb towards Singh. “Gordie Teverly, mate. Pleasure!”

“Likewise,” Alex responded with a polite nod in Gordie’s direction. “Flexibility’s the name of the game in my opinion, and I believe that the rest of Kestrel would agree with me.”

Singh cleared his throat, ignoring Teverly.
“You mentioned fellow contractors? How many are in your team? It’s just the three of us here from the USG.”

Alex turned to face Singh. “We brought five extra guys in for support. Business is a bit slow at the moment, and I suppose HR thought the extra muscle might look better for potential clients. I’m not complaining. Makes my job easier.”

“Suppose if you don’t have to do a lot of bleedin’ handholding…”

Singh cut off Teverly.
“Very good. I look forward to meeting them all. We’re all on the same team here, after all. We need to head out soon to set up if we hope to have a comfortable margin of time before they open up to the public.”

Teverly grumbled, even if he was in rare agreement with Singh, while Ciobanu didn’t say a word as they gathered up their equipment bags, what was left of their drinks, and got ready to head for the short walk to the Fair Hall entrance. Cross finished his drink and joined the group as they left.

Within a short time, after clearing security, they had found their booths and set them up to their liking. Alex went off to do the same with his crew to the neighboring Kestrel booth after helping his Guild partners, while a separate USG/Intexa booth was set up on the other side by Ion, Mandrakhar, and Gordon.

[RP Credit goes to Asucki/Kestrel]

[Niederthal]

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
Hôtel]
Early birds and so on - that had been our thought. The World Defense Trade Fair on the Niederthaler Trade Fair fairgrounds was the largest defense fair we had participated in so far.
Granted, our products were designed precision and long range weaponry for specialized applications, like police or private persons wishing to pay a bit more for a higher quality product.
Our products were not for the conscript with little idea about how to not shoot oneself into the foot.
Be that as it may, we had a small booth in the fair, a Collection of our current lineup with a few users to spice it all up a little bit... and with a few models of Bicini Industries to pose and to answer questions about the weapons in the showcases around them.
I, however, was grabbing breakfast before the show began.
I had stayed up late last night, talking with my youngest son over the internet as he told me about how he would participate in the Cuan City Youth Trophy and would win it - sadly, the girl, who he wanted to be his Sponsor had not yet gotten the hint, but I had told her mother to nudge her gently (knowing Amy, she would go at it like a Scalefang with half-cooked noodles shoved up its rear).
Still, I managed to look quite good and splendid this morning: My black hair was brushed out, my pantsuit immaticulate, the choker with the small pendant my husband had gifted me rested around my neck. I was ready to face the day as bright and early as the early bird and his worm.
Only that my breakfast would be Eggs Benedict, recommended by the house. It sounded delicious even if I had no idea, who this Benedict was. Tea would complete the meal.
In any case, I spotted the local minister of trade and the head of the fair and gave them a polite nod as a way of greeting, then sat down with my breakfast, waiting for what was to come.

[u]Yvain Saighead of the Tribe of Westmeath.
World Defense Trade Fair - SDY-Booth.
Early birds and so on - early fishermen, too, apparently.
I watched as our technicians put on the last touches on our booth and especially finished the wiring on the coup de grace: Aside from the usual screens and a diorama with scale models of everything SDY had to offer in the ways of military vessels, there was also a hologram projector center stage. It would project 3D holograms over the heads of the visitors of our booth and while they would be scaled down to something appropriate, the show and the accompanying animations would be a sight to see.
Aside from marketing people like me and technicians, there were also a few officers of the SDF-Navy present, ready to talk about their experiences aboard our ships.
I smiled at the sight, dressed to impress.
And I was not the only one: Coming from the not-yet public crowd was a familiar figure, a brunette, who's age of fourty-nine one would not guess at first glance - sure, she had a certain maturity, but maybe it was her style of dress, the Geansai in her Tribe's Colours, which made Gwen Banphrionsa of the Tribe of Cavan, CEO of Gabha Blacksmiths, look a decade younger.
The skimpy fur outfit suited her well, I had to admit, although she held no candle against my wife. On the other hand, Gabha was our main supplier for everything that had a gunbarrel and one of their associated companies, Gabha Motorworks, produced the engines for our ships (provided they were neither nuclear nor sails).
"Good morning, Gwen.", I greeted with a polite bow, "May I say, that you look fantastic?"
"Oh, please.", Gwen replied with a small wave of her hand, "You say that to every woman - and don't reply, that there are only few, where you mean it!" She was grinning as I closed my mouth. "It's good to see you, Yvain, but is Nora somewhere around?"
"I'm afraid, that she stayed in Silverport.", I told her. Gwen deflated slightly, her best friend was not around. "Tyran's sick."
"Dang.", Gwen replied. "Please relay my best wishes. And to Gwenny as well."
I nodded. "Sure." A beat. "How's your booth coming along?"
"Fiona is looking over the last details. It was great of the SDF to give us a few MFC-men to have them explain the virtues of our products... I almost feel bad for Eabhar."
"They have models and the Ionchoisne."
Gwen tsked. "Well, if they want private persons and polices, good for them. We're in a different market.", she added, "Speaking of different markets... have you seen, who else is around?"
"I'm sure, that you aren't talking about your two lassies of Mangaire.", I replied with a grin.
Mangaire's booth was small, but the two people attending it, Kiana Rúisc of the Tribe of Waterford and Caja Rois of the Tribe of Fermanagh, made up for that with their youthful energy and spirit. Sure, Mangaire was only an arms dealer, not a producer, but one could always look around and especially if one needed something less legal.
Gwen shook her head. "While I envy the two for their youth and spirit, no." I nodded, urging her to continue. "Monarcha."
"Really?"
I was surprised - Monarcha Aircraft Factories wasn't usually at such fairs. They mostly catered to the civilian market or built their drones for all sorts of applications (including on our ships), so they had a toe in the military market, not even a foot.
"Yes, really." Gwen smiled. "They have quite the impressive booth, including one of their new mini-drones - barely longer then my pointer." She showed the finger for emphasis. "I suspect, that we'll see that one fly around a bit over the day."
"I would hope so.", I said and wanted to add something, as my pager reported a message. "I'm sorry, Gwen, I..."
She raised a hand. "Go. I must go back, too."
"See you later?"
"Aftershow Party.", she said and turned.
"Best regards to Fiona.", I asked and she waved over her shoulder, she had acknowledged.
I turned as well, looking at what was going on now.
It would be a fun day for sure!

"Who is that?" the Minister asked von Schneider, who in turn looked around to see Mrs. Feardhil nodding to them. Both men returned the gesture with a friendly wave, before Baron Blauberg's question was answered.

"One of the vendors, a Selkie if I remember, represents a small arms manufacturer" whispered the young man. The Minister nodded, seeming to remember. "Ah the Freelander with the hunting rifles. Eabhar, if I recall. The Baron had seen advertisements for the company in one of his hunting magazines, however his thoughts were on his job as Trade Minister. Although he had little interest in buying weapons, his had long wanted to expand trade with the Freelands.

"Excuse me Madame, since you appear to be breakfasting alone, please allow us to show you Niederthaler hospitality and join us?"

[New Visayan Islands]

Marvin Francis I. Chua, CPA, CFA
Hôtel Princier, Niederthal
February 18th, AD 2022
0602 Local Time

Marvin Francis Chua was a driven young man. At 31, he held the post of Managing Director for the Visayan investment bank Suico, Jimenez, and Du's International Unit, holding it for three years come August. Young blood, determined to carve a name for themselves...
His ruminations were interrupted by breakfast, which was just as well; his body needed to work for what he anticipated would be one long day, and scrambled eggs, bacon, and potatoes were the order of the day. As he dug in, he couldn't help but notice the other businessfolk: he could see Samuel Cui, Alexandra Guzman, and Evangeline Cardinoza from VAI going through their breakfasts with a similar anticipation; Patrick Cataag from Guardian Pitbulls was on the phone, having already finished his breakfast and going through what he reasonably assumed was a coffee; Lauren Tan from NRT had just arrived and was considering his breakfast options. If that wasn't enough, a Selkie woman from Eabhar was being greeted by who he presumed was the Niederthaler trade minister. The investment banker couldn't help but smile; an interesting day was worth the length.

[The Selkie]

"Who is that?" the Minister asked von Schneider, who in turn looked around to see Mrs. Feardhil nodding to them. Both men returned the gesture with a friendly wave, before Baron Blauberg's question was answered.

"One of the vendors, a Selkie if I remember, represents a small arms manufacturer" whispered the young man. The Minister nodded, seeming to remember. "Ah the Freelander with the hunting rifles. Eabhar, if I recall. The Baron had seen advertisements for the company in one of his hunting magazines, however his thoughts were on his job as Trade Minister. Although he had little interest in buying weapons, his had long wanted to expand trade with the Freelands.

"Excuse me Madame, since you appear to be breakfasting alone, please allow us to show you Niederthaler hospitality and join us?"

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
I had already resigned to my fate and a solitary breakfast, smiling as the trade minister returned the nod with a wave, when suddenly, he and his companion stood in front of me.
Yes, Eabhar was not exactly for the broad national arms procurement programmes and our offers were also catering to huntsmen and collectors, but I would not have imagined, that it would make that much of a splash.
"Excuse me Madame, since you appear to be breakfasting alone, please allow us to show you Niederthaler hospitality and join us?", he offered.
I smiled. "Please, I'd love.", I said and introduced myself: "I'm Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim - but please, Misstress Feardhil or Kayla is fine, whichever you prefer."

[Niederthal]

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
I had already resigned to my fate and a solitary breakfast, smiling as the trade minister returned the nod with a wave, when suddenly, he and his companion stood in front of me.
Yes, Eabhar was not exactly for the broad national arms procurement programmes and our offers were also catering to huntsmen and collectors, but I would not have imagined, that it would make that much of a splash.
"Excuse me Madame, since you appear to be breakfasting alone, please allow us to show you Niederthaler hospitality and join us?", he offered.
I smiled. "Please, I'd love.", I said and introduced myself: "I'm Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim - but please, Misstress Feardhil or Kayla is fine, whichever you prefer."

"Pleased to meet you Misstress Feardhil" replied the Minister. "I am Baron Blauberg and here is my associate Hr, um Mr. Karl von Schneider." As he said this, the Baron offered out his hand. His English was accented, but clear, although still contained hints of the highland brouge spoken by his governess. Von Schneider in turn offered his hand along with a "Pleased to meet you" They all then sat around the table. The Baron as senior in age as well as rank, contiuned to take the lead and asked the guest how she was finding their homeland.

Meanwhile a small group of protesters, mostly foreigners from the neighboring lands, gather outside the main gates. This eventuallity, however was expected and was met with little concern by the security forces. The fairgrounds were surronded by a high fence and the large gates served as much for presentation as for security. The protesters were however likely to be disappointed as very few of the vendors or buyers were likely to pass by this way. Vendors nartually used an other entrance and the customers could much more conviently and discreetly enter through the subterranean parking garage. Furthermore, they could only view the main hall across the garden like park, distant enough that no persons could be identified.

[The Selkie]

"Pleased to meet you Misstress Feardhil" replied the Minister. "I am Baron Blauberg and here is my associate Hr, um Mr. Karl von Schneider." As he said this, the Baron offered out his hand. His English was accented, but clear, although still contained hints of the highland brouge spoken by his governess. Von Schneider in turn offered his hand along with a "Pleased to meet you" They all then sat around the table. The Baron as senior in age as well as rank, contiuned to take the lead and asked the guest how she was finding their homeland.

Meanwhile a small group of protesters, mostly foreigners from the neighboring lands, gather outside the main gates. This eventuallity, however was expected and was met with little concern by the security forces. The fairgrounds were surronded by a high fence and the large gates served as much for presentation as for security. The protesters were however likely to be disappointed as very few of the vendors or buyers were likely to pass by this way. Vendors nartually used an other entrance and the customers could much more conviently and discreetly enter through the subterranean parking garage. Furthermore, they could only view the main hall across the garden like park, distant enough that no persons could be identified.

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
Once they were seated, and the pleasantries of introductions properly exchanged, the Baron asked, how I was finding their homeland.
I was tempted to say, that I was finding it by looking it up on a map, but that joke would be rude. Instead, I replied: "As a land with good food, which is always a good start." I let a beat pass. "That aside, I find it a country a bit like the Free Lands. Friendly people, nice landscape, though admittedly, I have not yet seen much of it here in Niederthal... there are of course enough differences, denser population, for instance, and the architecture is... well, more modern would be the most simple description, but it does not encompass the whole truth. All in all, when I ever want to make a vacation anywhere new, I'd certainly consider dragging my husband and my three children here."
I presumed, that there would be protests - there were often protests at weapons fairs, but also assemblies of military enthusiasts, especially when they were public fairs. There was a reason, why we had models of BI at our stall to hold the weapons, and this was one of them - we were not for the military customer, not primarily at least, but for police and private persons, like huntsmen.
But aside from that, the guys from SDY and Gabha Blacksmiths were certainly more used to protests... and how to deal with them.

[Niederthal]

The complimentary reply was well received by the two men, both being patriots, were happy to hear their home spoken fondly of. They were of course aware that it might just be said out of politeness and not conviction, but because it matched up with their assessment of their land, they were inclined to judge it sincere. The Trade Minister, saw a chance to steer the conversation in a favorable direction and jumped at it. "You are right, it is a pleasant place to visit as well as to live. Unfortunately, I have not visited the Freelands, not yet, I should say. You may a good point about the density too, not only with the population, but with the economy. There is a lot of business that goes through here, it started with our position on the river, but digitalization has flattened the world, so to speak, and that has increased our capacity to participate in international trade." After he finished his pitch, the Baron waited for the businesswoman's reply.

[Niederthal]

Meanwhile, in the Main Hall if the Trade Fair, workers put the finishing touches on the booths. The refreshment stands were already open and so a few workers were already enjoying a glass of Elsterwerther Helles. The busiest part of the hall was the large auditorium, where the Trade Fair would officially be opened. In anticipation, vendors, visitors and a select few members of the press began to gather there.

[The Selkie]

The complimentary reply was well received by the two men, both being patriots, were happy to hear their home spoken fondly of. They were of course aware that it might just be said out of politeness and not conviction, but because it matched up with their assessment of their land, they were inclined to judge it sincere. The Trade Minister, saw a chance to steer the conversation in a favorable direction and jumped at it. "You are right, it is a pleasant place to visit as well as to live. Unfortunately, I have not visited the Freelands, not yet, I should say. You may a good point about the density too, not only with the population, but with the economy. There is a lot of business that goes through here, it started with our position on the river, but digitalization has flattened the world, so to speak, and that has increased our capacity to participate in international trade." After he finished his pitch, the Baron waited for the businesswoman's reply.

Kayla Feardhil of the Tribe of Antrim.
I smiled.
How did one measure economic density? In BIP per square kilometer? Sounded weird to me... but I knew, what he meant. While the Free Lands were no economic slouches, much of our economy relied on the first sector, and while we had a strong industrial base and a growing service and tourism sector, it was hardly like the Trade Minister described.
If I got him right, the country was moving from its position as a trading stopover to the service sector and particular to 'digital industry', so to speak, most likely also banking and, indeed, hosting fares. Certainly a worthwile endeavour.
And as long as it paid the bills...
"I see.", I said and rested my chin on a hand, smiled, "Indeed, that is something, which I have noticed a while ago - hence why Eabhar has such a strong social media presence - but what I find the most interesting is the means and ability to communicate and share knowledge." I smiled slightly. "Believe it or not, sharing knowledge is equally important for an arms manufacturer as it is access to the basic materials!"
While we talked, the fair would soon be opened.
I knew, that Yvain, Gwen and Felicia would be there in the auditorium.

[New Visayan Islands]

Lauren Tan
Niederthaler Trade Fair Hall
0742 Local Time

The obligatory joke about hazmat suits never going out of fashion was not something Lauren was stranger to. While the booth of Nabong, Ramirez, and Tan was ready to go, with the staff as best-dressed as anyone working for one of the Confederation's most well-known fashion houses ought to be, there was something going on in the man's mind. Drab, but functional, hazmat suits were NRT's contribution to the trade fair, and not only could they produce in bulk, they sold in bulk, and while 100000 Universal Standard Dollars for 2000 Level B hazmat suits didn't sound like much, multiple purchases were bound to add up.

Evangeline W. Owens-Cardinoza, MBA, MS (Management)
Niederthaler Trade Fair Hall
February 18th, AD 2022
0757 Local Time

The Chief Marketing Officer of Victoria Associated Industries was by all accounts a consummate gun nut, a holdover from her days as a quality control specialist for PISTOLADOR, the precursor to Victoria Arms. Even in her late 40s with a son and two daughters, Evangeline still had a youthful appearance that belied her years of skill with small arms.
Perhaps it was a testament to this skill that she handles the (unloaded) firearms to be displayed: a Guardian United in 9mm Parabellum, a Titan Shock in .45 ACP, an Unforgiven 12 gauge shotgun, and an Endgame bolt-action hunting rifle in 5.56 NATO. Also present was a comprehensive catalog of Victoria Arms products available for foreign buyers, among them a combat variant of the Endgame, two sets of two 1911-derived pistols, and two machine pistols. Along with the arms were scale models of a prefabricated room designed during the COVID-19 pandemic as an isolation room, a Cujo-class high-speed passenger ferry, and Victoria Shipyards' iconic Indomitable Spirit-class motor yacht, with catalogs for Victoria Fiberglass and Victoria Shipyards products.
VAI was clearly loaded for bear, as befitting what some business news outlets have taken to calling "The Visayan Megacorp," and there would be engagement, one way or another.

[USG Security Corporation]

Trade Fair Hall,
Neugruenstein,
Niederthal

Teverly, Singh, and Ciobanu proceeded to setting up the booth for the USGSC, and then helped their Kestrel counterpart with the Guild booth next. Singh even took off his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves. Contrary to what Gordie Teverly might think, Mandrakhar Singh was not above getting his hands a little dirty to get work done. There was a lot of misunderstanding between the two, but in the end they always had to remember they were on the same side.

A man with a pint of what had to be lager walked past them.
Teverly looked at him and then at his watch.
“Well then, if it’s that kind of party…”

Singh scowled.
“Gordon.”

“Relax, mate. I’m still very much in toffee and Rosie Lee...coffee and tea mode.” He translated quickly for Ciobanu’s benefit.
“Just good to know they’re relaxed about that sort of thing here...day drinkin’ and awl. Makes it feel like we’re in Neu Engollon or back on the Island or somethin’. Comfortin’...Jesus wept, dad. It’s like yer tryin’ to find somethin’ ta get riled about.”

Singh didn’t remark any further, but kept at it with setting up their booth.

Ciobanu definitely could agree with the sentiment, and understood, after some time spent with the USGSC at their HQ, exactly what Gordie meant.
Neu Engollians were very much about letting the beer flow at all hours of the day, morning or evening, but were also careful about not overdoing it when professionalism was still called for. That culture carried over somewhat to the USGSC Island, which was not actual territory of Neu Engollon, but rather belonged entirely to the company. The USG troopers, Neu Engollian nationals or not, would indulge during off time, and rarely when on mission, but did alright in finding that balance. Still, it was mainly why Neu Engollian culture was considered in many parts of the world to revolve around getting piss drunk and still trying to function.

The fact that not a one of them was actually Neu Engollian might do little to deter that effect here today as they represented a Neu Engollian registered company steeped in the history of the Confederacy. He’d come across it before.
So, he could understand why Singh would not want Teverly to give people any more excuses to derail the USGSC brand.

Mark aka Ion Ciobanu put his hands on his hips as he surveyed their work.
An actual silk USGSC banner hung in the background with the skull, arrows, and wings.
Two black and white historical photos of past contracts going back decades sat in propped frames on shelves. More modern photos in glass, woodless frames: one depicting a VTOL gunship to denote their ability to project air power, and one with a suited employee at a computer wearing earpiece and mic and surrounded by electronics to denote their cyber presence showed their modern side.

It was all just window dressing and talking points.
They, of course, didn’t have actual physical products to display, but instead would be talking up the services offered by both the USGSC, and by extension, the Guild. A lot of it relied on their knowledge and ability to convey to possible interested clients what exactly the company could do for them. Hence why Mandrakhar Singh would shine best at this. His whole demeanor shouted corporate.

“Well, I think that does it.”

Singh frowned slightly as he looked it over.
“I might put some finishing touches on it, Ion. Why don’t you and Gordon see what you can do to help Alex in setting up or go and scout around a bit?”

"Great idea, Singh. You know wot's best for the mince pies."
Gordie grabbed Ion by the arm, talking softly,
“Let him flap about on his own...Get his nervous energy out. He’ll be more pleasant later on in the morning.”

“He’s unpleasant?”

“Come on, mate.”

[Asucki]

Niederthal Trade Fair Hall

Alex Cross watched on in horror as Ivan Nović and Samuel White enjoyed a pleasant game of chess. The normal version of the ancient game wasn't exciting enough for the two friends, so they had instead devised a bizarrely complex set of house rules. The game was being played on a board hastily sketched onto a piece of printer paper, with loose change and empty ammunition casings serving as the game pieces.

"Your queen on one of my squares. That's two pawns, Sammy," said Ivan.

"What are you on about? That square's mine," replied Samuel.

"You sold it back to me five turns ago, remember?"

"Yes, but I captured it back the next turn by capturing your knight on it."

Ivan paused for a moment, eventually shaking his head. "My bad, you're right. Continue."

Alex sighed and took a couple steps back to inspect the Kestrel booth. He was very happy, surprised even, with how well it had turned out. The side closest to the Guild booth was decorated with monuments to Kestrel's achievements. A stack of business cards was organized near a plaque gifted by the Asuckian government that commemorated a successful high-profile hostage rescue operation. This was a highlight of Kestrel's distinct style of fast, well-planned and efficient actions completed using small coordinated squads. Next to the plaque was an assortment of training certifications and technical documents.

While the Guild side showed the corporate aspect of the company, the far side showed off Kestrel's human aspect. There was a sketch made by an anonymous artistic Kestrel depicting the mercenaries sitting together around a campfire, celebrating after a completed mission. Other art pieces showed members playing games and generally goofing off, similar to what Ivan and Samuel were doing in the present. All of these worked to showcase a major aspect of Kestrel's brand that was often utilized in recruitment; a strong sense of comradery and brotherhood.

Framed newspaper clippings described some of Kestrel's charitable activities in the slums of Novaera. A multitude of more historical newspaper clippings, especially from the early and mid eighties, were left out. These would've shown various actions much less charitable than those of modern-day Kestrel.

Satisfied with the booth, Alex turned back to his comrades. "I think I'm gonna go stretch my legs for a little while," he paused before adding with a smile, "maybe pester the USGSC guys a bit, do some work at the Guild booth. You guys good holding down the fort here for a bit?"

Ivan and Samuel were too preoccupied with their game of "chess" to pay him any attention. Another member of the Kestrel delegation, Calvin Glenn, looked up from his book on Asuckian cheesemaking techniques and gave Alex a response. "Yeah, I've got it under control, boss."

"Good. And if any potential clients come up to the booth, stop what you're doing and call me. I don't want to-" he paused, looking first at Calvin and his book and then over at Ivan and Samuel, who were now back to bickering about some cryptic element of their game's rules, "-make a bad first impression."

"Yessir," Glenn responded, half-mockingly, before returning to his reading.