Asherah leaned back against a tree and sighed. She didn't have anything to do right now- a welcome change- and she was determined to do absolutely nothing just as hard as she could. Work hard, play hard, relax hard.
Working hard- working like a Puritan ant- was instilled in all prospective agents from day one in the training program. And Asherah had been a very willing, eager student.
Her father's face, handsome despite its lines and grave expression, rose in her mind's eye. Her heart tightened. Daddy. Asherah had been the only daughter of eight children, and a daddy's girl to the bone. She had gotten her insomnia and an ability to get by on an unusually small amount of sleep from a natural inclination exacerbated by waiting up each night for her father to get home from his jobs, and the young man had taken the opportunity to teach her what he'd held most important in life. "Asherah," he'd told the little girl perched on his knee, watching him intently, "duty is the most important thing in life. You have to be guided by your responsibility to what you hold most important. Do you know why I come home so late every night?"
The child Asherah shook her head.
"I have three jobs that I work at. It's hard, and it's not something I really enjoy doing, but I do it because I have to. I work so that you and your mother and brothers can have food, clothes, shelter, and whatever else you need. I do it because I love you. You, your mother, and your brothers are my family. Family is the most important thing in my life." He smiled at her. "I wonder, when you grow up, what will be most important to you. I wonder what the focus of your life will be."
Freedom. she thought firmly in reply.
Freedom was also the focus of Jonas' life. A memory came to mind, unbidden.
Asherah waved a sheaf of papers at Jonas. "What are these?"
The look on his face told her. "How did you find those?"
"That's not the issue here." Asherah's tone turned dangerous. "I asked you what these were."
He gauged her eyes and exhaled huffily. "They're papers documenting my arms sales to people on Earth."
"And why would you be selling weapons to them?"
"You know about the conditions there, what life is like for them. They're tired of the colonial governments that both care and do nothing for them. They have the right to decide what's best for themselves, not some committee up in the colony that doesn't know what it's like, that knows nothing and considers these people only a tool, their only value in what they can be used for… they're human beings, Asherah, they don't deserve that!" He looked into her eyes, and Asherah could see passionate conviction burning there. Her heart fell.
"So you're selling them arms so that they can rebel and take their lives back."
"Asherah, they have a God- given right to their lives. Don't you believe in the sanctity of human life? The dignity of humanity? Do you remember what we learned about the origins of America, the whole reason we exist as a country? Our country- the country we both serve, the country whose interests always guide everything we do- was based on this! We've gone off course. I'm only trying to set things right again."
"There must be some other way."
"Don't you think I've thought about this? I've talked to the people left on Earth, Asherah. All they want is the chance to try for something better. Don't you think at least some of them have done their utmost to change things without it coming to this? The colonial authorities don't care and won't listen. There is no other way." This last was said in a tone of utter finality.
"Jonas-"
"And the Gundam fights." he continued, quietly now. "In the name of peace, those fights are destroying their home. Not only their home, but our legacy. They've tried to talk to Congress about it, but no one is interested. No one will listen. I've rooted around, Asherah, talked to people, looked into things. This is the only way the people of Earth have to take their lives back."
"Surely someone in Congress sees those people as potential votes. That would give them value." Asherah tried.
"No one's interested. They see those on Earth as uneducated, ignorant, beneath their notice and unworthy of their time and consideration. Besides, it would be too inconvenient to rig up some sort of voting system. It would have to be massive and expensive, and you know that the only thing those politicians are interested in is lining their pockets." Jonas said bitterly.
"Rebellion shouldn't be an option, Jonas. Civil war should be avoided at all costs. By fighting, we'd expose vulnerability to the other nations, and one of them would try something. More lives would be lost. I treasure freedom as much as you, but this isn't the way to win it. We just have to work on changing the perception of the people on Earth in the colonies. It wouldn't be easy, but you and I could do it. We're the best, Jonas, and we've done harder things before."
"This is the only way." he repeated. Asherah could see the change in his eyes. He was now studying her as a potential threat. "Asherah, please, help me. I love you. We're married. We're supposed to do things together, be united."
"Our country is supposed to be united. I'll help you, but you have to stop this now. Jonas… this is not the only way. There have to be better options-"
"There aren't." he interrupted. "Are you with me, Asherah?"
"No." she replied, voice firm and quiet. A tear rolled down her cheek.
He reeled back, as though she had struck him. He recovered himself only with difficulty. "Will you at least stay out of my way?"
"No."
"Asherah, if you don't, you'll be an enemy. You know too much, now… you don't want to do this!"
"I can't do anything else but this, Jonas. Please, it's not too late for you to turn back!" Asherah cried, grabbing him by the shoulders.
His eyes turned cold. "You've betrayed me." He removed her hands from himself. "Move aside, Asherah… I don't want to hurt you, but this is more important than either of us."
"I can't, Jonas, I've already told you."
He swung, she dodged, and so it began.
Asherah sniffled. Over a year, and the memory was still fresh, the wounds still raw. She pulled up her shirt just a little. A white scar glared back up at her. She replaced the fabric. There were other scars, too, in a myriad of places; her back, one under her hair, her chest, legs, arms… They had almost killed each other. They had fought each time they met since then, but none of the battles came close to the desperate ferocity of that first.
Asherah knew that she would have to kill Jonas or be killed by him. They were on a collision course, hurtling toward that last fight… Asherah could feel it approaching. She supposed that was one reason why she'd chosen to go after Chibodee Crocket- he had the potential to be a real threat, especially with his friends backing him. She needed help; who better than the Neo- American member of the Shuffle Alliance?
She rose, dusted herself off. That was enough 'relaxation', and she might as well go ahead and give Chibodee his first lesson.