The approach to the Feddie position felt strange to Milo; not long ago, he and the other pilots and drivers of the 261st had been fighting for their lives [i]against[/i] these people. To approach their position in the open - with an invitation, no less - felt wrong somehow, and certainly tickled his danger sense.
As if sensing this, Zel nosed up at his chin once more, as if to reassure her surrogate parent that everything would be alright. Milo smiled and tickled the little fennec kit with his index finger, upon which she gnawed playfully, squeaking her happiness.
[i]If only humans were so easy to reassure.[/i] He thought to himself.
"Confirmed, Laytn; one stock GM, one GM Cannon and a Guntank, probably the mass production type we started seeing in Southeast Asia."
Milo and Laytn hovered to within a few meters of the three giant Federation Mobile Suits, which Milo looked up at in mixed awe and apprehension. The only other time he had seen a GM so close was either from behind the dubious safety of his Zaku's armor, or on foot when his unit encountered wrecked Federation Suits in the desert.
Milo's Wappa slowed, the whine of the hover fans receding as the little craft settled on the sand. Un-slinging Zel's carrying harness, Milo hung the sling up on the pintle of his Wappa, and pointed at the little animal. Zel squeaked, and then plopped down the way she had been trained, tail wagging behind her.
Smiling briefly in satisfaction, the young supply officer dismounted his hover bike with considerably more coordination than would normally be expected of a man his size and build. Joining Laytn, he came to attention, craning his neck up to look at the towering GM, which appeared to be the Suit of the unit commander.
Stiffly, he saluted.
To Milo's surprise, the giant Suit moved. Ponderously, the GM's arm moved, rising to salute back at the two humans. When the hand was fully raised, the machine's sensor faceplate pulsed green, accompanied by a distinctive hum Milo thought similar to a Zaku's [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PV1g1fW1gDw]mono-eye flash[/url]. 
The young officer resisted the urge to step back when the Suit began to kneel, its arm sweeping down to hold its hand palm up in front of its cockpit hatch. When the Suit was down on one knee, the hatch swished open, and a figure in a khaki Federation uniform stepped out onto the hand, which lowered him down.
He saluted in return.
Milo lowered his own hand, and stiffened once more.
"Lieutenant Milo Tyranne, Republic of Zeon Earth Attack Force, sir! At this time, I would like to declare that I have been authorized to speak for all personnel of my unit."
He cleared his throat, and tried to blank his mind. The only way he would be able to do this, Milo knew, would be to just get it out before he could think too hard about what he was saying.
"On behalf of the 261st Mobile Supply Corps, and in accordance with the standing orders of Prime Minister Darcia Bakharov, I offer our unconditional surrender to the Earth Federation Ground Forces."
Milo breathed a long sigh of relief.
[i]There. It's out. No taking that back now.[/i]
On the hand of his Mobile Suit, the Federation officer saluted.
[i]"Corporal Flint Hobten, Earth Federation Ground Forces. Similarly, I have been authorized by my commanding officer to accept your surrender, in accordance with the Treaty of Granada."[/i]
Milo was briefly surprised when the Federation soldier held out a hand, a slightly tense but still friendly smile on his face. Hesitantly, Milo reached out and took it.
The handshake melted the tension.
[i]"So... I take it the 261st isn't just two people, is it?"[/i]