Eight Years prior to the Black Rebellion:
Auckland Military Parade Grounds, Area 9,(Formerly New Zealand), 2009 a.t.b
Alexander Krushevsky let out a yawn as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, in a bid to fight off both the cool autumn air and the jetlag that came from travelling straight from St. Petersburg to Auckland. His body was telling him it was about one in the morning, not the eleven in the morning it actually was. But it would be worth it if this deal went through.
The RPI-11 Glasgow was the newest Knightmare frame, developed by both the Ashford Foundation and the Imperial Military Armoury. Said groups had styled it the first 'Fourth-Gen' machine, and the promise it showed..well, the amount of money mass-producing them would net him could finally mean he could buy his and his family's way into the nobility of the Homeland. A distasteful way to enter the highest echelons, perhaps, but it wouldn't matter. Having a barony or county would allow his daughter to get the finest education money could buy, aside from that of the Royal family, of course.
Moncia. He smiled at the thought. His sweet child, the brightest and youngest of his children and the light of his life since the death of his wife, certainly had a good future ahead of her. She wasn't a useless layabout like her eldest brother Pavel nor content with mediocrity like middle child Charles. Monica was different, the child who even at twelve already had a keen interest in all things military. It wasn't dolls she played with, but her Pavel's old toy London's, the second generation (and first so-named) 'Knightmare Frame', along with their toy soldiers. Even now, he suspected the only reason she had demanded to come with him to Area 9 was to see the first demonstration of a new generation of the great machines.
Not that I blame her. He thought. They are magnificent.
Whilst not as pretty or grand looking as the YF6-X7K/E Ganymede, it was nonetheless obvious that the Glasgow was technologically superior. The protected cockpit, the slash harkens...the delightfully big guns…
The colour left a little to be desired though. Alexander thought with a grin. Grey-Brown? Pssh.
"Alexander!" A cheery voice called out. Alexander glanced around for the owner. He soon found him, emerging from the crowd. Broad shouldered and well dressed, bald but with a well maintained moustache. It took the Euro-Britannian a few moments to place his face..
".. Michael? Michael Hornsmith, is that you?" Alexander exclaimed and extended a hand. "By God man, it's been years! I haven't seen you since Montreal! How are you? What are you up to these days?"
"I am very well, my friend!" Hornsmith replied before offering an apologetic smile. "...But alas, I cannot tell you what it is I'm doing, very hush hush, you understand."
"Don't worry, I completely understand." Alexander nodded. "I've worked on a few of those types of projects myself in the past."
"Nothing like this, my friend." Hornsmith mumbled, and before Alexander could respond, the pair found themselves joined by a third..
"Father? Is something wrong?" A voice addressed the men. It's owner was young, with blonde hair that she shared with her father. Her blue eyes, like her mother's, were wide and curious.
"There you are!" Alexander exclaimed, and moved to embrace his daughter. The young girl frowned ever so slightly as her father took her by the hand and led her over to his friend. "Michael, may I introduce my daughter, Monica Alexandrovna Krushevskaya."
"Why does sh-, ah! That name thing you Euro-Brits do. Almost confused me there, Alexander." Michael grinned, before turning his attention to Monica. He looked her up and down, and nodded once. "A fine daughter you have here, My Friend. She'll do you proud, I have no doubt."
"Thank you, Michael." Alexander replied. "Well, we ought to get ready. The display should begin at any moment.
"Is it that time already?" Hornsmith gasped. "Oh my! I must be off! Wonderful to see you again, My Friend. We should catch up sometime."
"Indeed! I should like that immensely." The men shook hands, and Hornsmith made his departure. The Krushevsky's watched him striding purposefully towards the hangar, and out of sight.
"..Father? Who was that?" Monica asked with obvious hesitation. "He seemed..off."
"An old friend, Monica. No one to be worried about." Alexander smiled. "It's just how people like that have to be. Secrets weigh on you, Monica. Let that be today's serious lesson."
Monica nodded. "I understand father."
"Moncia" He began. "I have to go and start this off, so you just stay here, alright?"
"...But I-"
"Don't worry!" He smiled, and gently tousled her hair. "I shall be back before you know it."
Monica let out a giggle, and seeing that his daughter was smiling again, Alexander moved to ascend the podium. The crowd hushed, the chatter coming to a halt. Camera flashes filled his sight, and soon each and every eye was on him.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Alexander's voice boomed across the grounds. "I thank you all for your patience this morning. It is with the utmost pleasure that I can introduce you all to the newest Knightmare Frame. With any luck, they will soon be aiding our troops the world over..so please, put your hands together...for the RPI-11 Glasgow!"
There were five of the machines that left the hangar one after the another, and soon formed themselves up into two ranks, three at the back, and two at the front. The crowd politely offered applause as Alexander continued.
"Building on their success with the Ganymede, our bold Britannian scientists have once more pushed the boundaries of what is and is not possible! The Glasgow's rely on lightweight but defensive body armour, and the Landspinner Propulsion System made standard by the NSF-47 Londons allowing these mighty machines to continue to run rings around the outdated weapons and vehicles of the Chinese and EU!" Alexander declared. "The Glasgow also introduces something that has been dubbed 'The Slash Harken'. In essence, it's a wired projectile weapon that can double as a grappling hook, or be used to help the Knightmare descend from aerial transports with the utmost safety, and it is our hope that they shall become standard equipment in all future Frames."
There was a round of hushed murmurings, and some of the observers took photos and notes. Alexander took a calming breath, and looked over the crowd. There is interest plain to see on many faces, including, not surprisingly, that of his daughter.
"But you did not come all this way simply to hear me speak!" Alexander grinned. "So then pilots! If you would be so kind...give our friends a demonstration!"
The Knightmare's lurched forward, and divided. Faster and faster they all but raced around the grounds. A great gout of dust went up, as did gasps, cheers and applause from the crowd. The machines came to a halt in a line behind Alexander. "This is the future, my friends! This is the way forward! Evolution is continuous! Progress is unhalting! The Empire is Eternal! All hail Britannia!"
"ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!"
And then, without warning, the Glasgow's began firing into the crowd.