Introducing BAE Systems OneArc (OneArcTM), a new kind of defense tech innovator — fast, open, and collaborative — delivering the synthetic environments that modern defense depends on. We unite decades of proven commercial innovation in simulation, interoperability, and geospatial technology with the scale and trust of BAE Systems, Inc.

The right balance. The right people. The right experience. The right solutions.

Disrupt.

We have redefined U.S. and NATO defense training benchmarks, helped establish NATO interoperability standards, and earned the trust of more than 60 nations and 300 integrators.

Derisk.

We offer more than 30 years of trail-blazing experience in synthetic training, simulations, interoperability, geospatial, data analytics, and AI.

Deliver.

We deliver a comprehensive and growing portfolio of ready-to-go products, services and solutions, as well as custom software that ensure decision advantage and mission success.

Chungking Expressmovie 7.9 1994 Here

He waited. Not for love—he’d given up on that after the 30th pineapple can. He waited because in 1994 Hong Kong, waiting was the only honest thing left. The next night, she slid into the seat across from him. No hello. Just: “You eat pineapple every night.”

She was the blonde wig—a drug mule who’d just ditched her latest shipment in a public toilet. Her sunglasses never came off, even under the flickering fluorescent lights. She ran through alleys like a stray cat, and one night she accidentally left a scuffed-up envelope under his stool. Inside: a passport, a hotel key, and a note reading “Wait for me at the usual place.”

The pineapple can rolled off the table, empty. He didn’t pick it up. Neither did she.

In the neon-drenched summer of 1994, a midnight express noodle stall in Chungking buzzed with static rain and lost souls. He was Cop 223, badge number 223, still buying cans of pineapple with an expiration date—May 1st—the day his last relationship would officially be over. Every night he’d sit at the same sticky table, muttering to the jukebox playing “California Dreamin’” on repeat.

End of story.

“One more day,” he said. “Then I stop.”

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Intrigued by something new? Got skills and a desire to make a difference? Chungking ExpressMovie 7.9 1994

Upcoming Events

Chungking ExpressMovie 7.9 1994
FIDAE 2026

OneArc will be attending FIDAE 2026, where our Business Development Director for EMEA Craig Turner will be ready to discuss how our simulation products and Solutions ... Read More

Apr 07, 2026

Santiago International Airport, Santiago, Chile

Chungking ExpressMovie 7.9 1994
Space Symposium 2026

OneArc will be attending Space Symposium, where our team of experts will be ready to discuss how our simulation products and Solutions can support your evolving train... Read More

Apr 13, 2026

The Broadmoor, Colorado Springs, CO USA

Chungking ExpressMovie 7.9 1994
ITEC 2026

OneArc will be attending ITEC 2026, where our team of experts will be ready to discuss how our simulation products and Solutions can support your evolving training re... Read More

Apr 14, 2026

Excel Center, London, UK

He waited. Not for love—he’d given up on that after the 30th pineapple can. He waited because in 1994 Hong Kong, waiting was the only honest thing left. The next night, she slid into the seat across from him. No hello. Just: “You eat pineapple every night.”

She was the blonde wig—a drug mule who’d just ditched her latest shipment in a public toilet. Her sunglasses never came off, even under the flickering fluorescent lights. She ran through alleys like a stray cat, and one night she accidentally left a scuffed-up envelope under his stool. Inside: a passport, a hotel key, and a note reading “Wait for me at the usual place.”

The pineapple can rolled off the table, empty. He didn’t pick it up. Neither did she.

In the neon-drenched summer of 1994, a midnight express noodle stall in Chungking buzzed with static rain and lost souls. He was Cop 223, badge number 223, still buying cans of pineapple with an expiration date—May 1st—the day his last relationship would officially be over. Every night he’d sit at the same sticky table, muttering to the jukebox playing “California Dreamin’” on repeat.

End of story.

“One more day,” he said. “Then I stop.”