Gundam, Gravity Elegy

No one knows the truth, but that unique gear eventually merged into the machine called history, causing a tiny, minor change.

Author's message

…………

I'm a newbie, please give me some pointers.

PS2: In the lore, Sherry Page is a first-generation member of Project RX. Her appearance in the definition suggests that she is Solomon (the comics describe her participating in a large-scale war on her very first mission).

However, the original RX Project's timeline unfolded too late, resulting in a chaotic and unexplained timeline for mecha design (a little-known fact: in the original work, from GM's departure to the appearance of Commander GM and a bunch of other modified versions, only two months elapsed). Therefore, it was brought forward to the GTO version, which also brought forward Sherry's graduation appearance (from Solomon to Loom).

PS3: Sherry is listed as being born in 65 on a certain Chinese encyclopedia, but this date is incorrect. The comics clearly state that during the Z period, she was one year older than Emma and participated in the One Year War at the age of 18.

There are quite a few mistakes in the encyclopedia, and Salamis has been criticized for a lot of errors. Considering the numerous settings and spin-offs of Gundam itself, we can only say that we should either ignore them, or if we must be particular, please refer to the original work rather than the encyclopedia.

Chapter 1: The Survivors' Reports

July 21, UC.0079

9: 00 AM

Location: Gabro Base, South America

As the headquarters of the Earth Federation, the large base, hidden in the jungle and mountains, is interconnected and has not only a command center, but also independent factories and agricultural production bases.

It is said that even without any external support, the Gabro base could operate at full power independently for more than three years.

Perhaps it is for this reason that even now, with the Principality of Zeon having used its most advanced mobile suits—the Zaku—to drive the Federation forces back in defeat, Jablo can not only remain unperturbed, but its internal life can also be described as comfortable.

Of course, it can also be described with another word:

"corruption."

Under the warm light, as the lean man looked around, these thoughts kept popping into his mind.

Several months have passed since the start of the war, but apart from the initial shock caused by the disappearance of the colony satellites during the British operation, an unsettlingly languid atmosphere has persisted here.

"Hey, you've finished your drink, pour me another one."

"Hey, you lost, pay up!"

Despite being the headquarters of the Earth Federation Forces, a place seen by the people as a beacon of hope, what is found here is not strict military discipline, but rather an unimaginable level of freedom and laxity.

Gambling and alcoholism.

The sight that greeted the man upon landing at the secret port and traveling by car to the command post caused him to furrow his brow.

In fact, they seem to be more interested in those messy rumors than the front lines:

"Hey, have you heard? About that 'Son of Sydney' thing."

"Who... oh, you mean the one who survived from Sydney?"

"Yes, he got into a fight at the military academy and was put in solitary confinement for it."

"Huh? Why?"

With just a glance, one could see two soldiers taking a break from their busy schedules to discuss these matters:

"It is said that several soldiers who were wounded on the front lines and risked their lives to earn military merits to study were dissatisfied with him. They hurled insults at him and even provoked him, which eventually turned into a brawl."

"Hey, how could this happen..."

"To be honest, that makes sense. Everyone says Zeon has no soldiers left, but now we're the ones getting beaten back one after another. We finally managed to achieve some merit, and when we come back, we see a kid with a higher rank than us, and he's even qualified to attend officer school. We're bound to feel resentful."

"But no matter what, we can't vent our anger on an innocent child, especially a helpless...colonel?!"

Suddenly, the two soldiers who were still discussing those things seemed to finally notice that straight, razor-sharp gaze.

After quickly tidying themselves up, they couldn't help but give a salute.

However, the man didn't say much. After mechanically returning the greeting, he quickened his pace.

"In just over two months, the rumors have already reversed to this extent?"

He clenched his fists instinctively, holding his breath:

"But it should be able to make it... no, it should be just in time."

As he walked into the command center and headed towards the upper levels, the man subconsciously straightened his collar.

Then, they knocked on the wooden door, which offered little protection but certainly exuded an air of authority:

"Djamitov Hyman, reporting for duty."

"Ah, Colonel Hyman, you've arrived."

Directly in front, in front of that desk, a portly, seemingly kind old man waved:

"I was just about to have some tea, would you like a cup?"

The voice was languid, yet utterly unquestionable.

In fact, just as Jamitov approached, the fat old man had already taken out a porcelain jar:

"Since you have no objections, please sit down. This is a nice gift from a friend of the Luo's Chamber of Commerce, it's called... Pu'er tea."

It seems he can effortlessly control the pace of a conversation; this is Admiral Arasso Gop, former commander of the Earth Forces (Minister of Earth Defense) and now chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"Speaking of which, does Colonel Hyman like to drink tea?"

"He drank relatively little..."

"Is that so? That's a real shame. I'm a complete novice and I was hoping to learn a thing or two about tea drinking from you."

Under the warm light, the tea leaves curled up in the porcelain jar looked dry and fragile, but no matter how unsightly they were, the fat fingers still ruthlessly pulled them out and put them into the cup.

"However, although I personally don't know much about the art of tea drinking, I do enjoy the process of brewing tea. Colonel Hyman, do you know why?"

"I do not know."

"Tsk tsk, you don't even know this? Look closely."

Boiling water is poured over them, and the tea leaves tumble and surge in the scalding torrent. They first stretch out, then float, and finally stand proudly upright.

"Look at the arrogant posture of these tea leaves, just like the soldiers in our Federation army who are still fighting on the front lines, shining brightly and changing the surrounding environment."

"Your subordinates are also willing to dedicate themselves to this."

“Oh dear, it’s best not to talk about such things at a time like this. Isn’t it said that drinking tea requires a calm mind? Colonel Hyman, you’re a bit too restless right now.”

Admiral Gop chuckled and waved his hand, his calloused hands gently cradling the pristine white porcelain cup. He carefully took a sip and then stuck out his tongue:

"Ouch, it's so hot! It's true that tea is best enjoyed just for its aroma; tasting tea is just not for me."

After placing the porcelain cup back on the table, General Gop sighed:

"Anyway, let's get back to the main topic, Colonel Hyman. Although you should have received your transfer order earlier, let's be more formal for now."

In that instant, the general's lazy gaze sharpened:

"As decided by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Earth Federation Forces will officially appoint you, Colonel Jamitov Hyman, as the Supreme Commander of the African Front."

Yes, we will certainly live up to expectations.

"So, do you have any other requirements?"

When Djamitov came to his senses, he found that the surrounding pressure seemed to have disappeared, and General Gop seemed to have slumped back into his comfortable seat.

“The situation in Africa is not optimistic right now. If you have any requests, we will try our best to meet them here in Gabro.”

"...If possible, I would like to bring along the legendary 'Son of Sydney'."

"Son of Sydney—"

A look of confusion appeared on Gop's face when the title was mentioned.

But soon, he remembered:

"Ah, it's the child who survived from Sydney."

Just a few months ago, he was a hot topic in the news, but in Admiral Gop's eyes, he seemed so insignificant.

He simply rummaged through the cabinet and then pulled out a thick stack of documents:

"Let me see!"

Then he read it aloud:

"Gao Ren, 14 years old, born in Asia, born on July 25th, from a single-parent family. His father was a federal soldier, but disappeared before the child was born. His mother, Gao Wei, is a businesswoman who has worked for large companies such as Roche, Bazhou, Anaheim, and Javi, and has a rich and free work experience. She is a really amazing woman."

Despite knowing this information already, Gop couldn't help but exclaim in surprise:

"However, because his mother frequently changed jobs, our son, the second lieutenant, had a somewhat lacking childhood. He never lived in one place for an extended period until three years ago when his mother moved to Sydney to further develop the new energy business."

He casually tossed those things onto the table and leaned back slowly in his large chair.

"To be honest, judging from the information, that kid is pretty good—he performed exceptionally well at school, and within just one week of joining the special pilot class, he received very high praise from all the instructors, including Paul. A month later, he had already stood out among a group of elites selected by various military units. In fact, even that old guy Brian privately asked me if I could transfer him to the regular officer rank."

Gop spoke slowly, but his leisurely tone struck Djamitov's heart like a heavy hammer:

"So I don't understand, Colonel Hyman. He is bound to become a pillar of the Federation Army in the future, so why are you so insistent on bringing him to the battlefield now?"

Facing General Gop's seemingly probing gaze, Djamitov straightened his posture:

"Because on the way here, I heard some bad news."

He began to speak:

"Lieutenant Gao Ren seems to have aroused resentment among the soldiers in the rear. Even at the officer academy, people are questioning why he is not on the front lines. Therefore, I think it is not a good choice to continue to keep him in the rear. In order to consolidate morale, he must go to the front lines."

“I see. Thinking about it carefully, that makes sense. I remember we used him as a case study to hold Zeon accountable for their crimes... Let me look for it again.”

The general's fingers groped around in the drawer, eventually pulling out a stack of newspapers.

Simply laid out on the table, the pitch-black characters instantly drew everyone's attention:

The Survivors of Sydney, the Miracle Child of the Earth Federation

The youngest soldier, bearing the will of 24 billion dead.

The Fury of Earth: Zeon Will Pay for Its Debts

Along with the text, one close-up photo after another of the boy was thus imprinted on the newspaper.

Some were in military uniforms, others were in hospitals; their lifeless eyes seemed to tell the story of the disaster that had occurred.

"Speaking of which, I personally selected this photo. It shows a 14-year-old boy, which, combined with Rebil's speech more than a month ago, directly stirred up the soldiers' emotions. We even had supporters on every side, which completely suppressed those politicians who wanted to negotiate peace."

"However, the situation is critical now—since Zeon launched the landing operation, our Earth Federation Forces have been defeated one after another. Whether in Australia, Eurasia, or the Americas, we have not achieved any optimistic results. Under these circumstances, continuing with the so-called propaganda route will only backfire. The soldiers do not need a flag that only waves and shouts from the rear."

"It is Djamitov who spoke."

"They need a spiritual totem, a partner they can always see on the front lines, someone to entrust their backs to. What that child needs isn't a safe environment, but the flickering flames of war and military achievements, and then..."

"Then, you also need his presence to establish your authority."

The sudden words startled Djamitov. Stepping out of his own detailed explanation, he met Gop's still unfocused, yet perpetually unfathomable eyes:

"Colonel Hyman, who needs military merit, you... or him?"

"This……"

"Are you thinking of the Earth Federation Forces, or of him?"

"..."

"Even, you're thinking of yourself?"

Upon hearing this, Djamitov clenched his hands behind his back, and a bead of cold sweat trickled down his forehead.

"Haha, don't be nervous."

Just as he was wondering if he could find a way to salvage the situation, he saw General Gop wave his hand:

“For soldiers, ambition is a good thing; it shows that they have the passion to climb the ranks. In fact, it is precisely because of this that we transferred you from the intelligence department and entrusted you with the African front. Therefore, theoretically, we should give you more room for development, and the logistics department will provide you with maximum assistance.”

"So, about that son of Sydney..."

"But he can't."

Gop bent down, his fingers beginning to rummage through the treasure chest-like drawer again:

"Speaking of which, Colonel Hyman, what do you think of the Earth Federation now?"