Forever

PART EIGHT:

Disclaimers:  Since this story is set about three hundred years after the Gundam characters existed, there isn't much here I don't own.  Except maybe any characters I use in flashbacks or the actual names of the characters, which pop up a few times.  Some OOC, but no yaoi.

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The mess hall itself was clean, with several benches and tables littering the place and a few trashcans placed strategically around, near the walls.  There were no windows, which Via thought a pity, but the overall friendliness of the atmosphere made up for that.  There was a wooden door on one wall and a long opening, leveled at about waist height, where a sort of counter was placed.  A tall pile of plastic trays stood at one end of the counter.  All in all, the place reminded Via of her school cafeteria.  Someone was mixing a bowl of batter, resting the bowl on the counter, and Via's attention focused on the tall, well-muscled man almost immediately.

Shatajit was older than Via had expected he would be.  The man was just barely over forty, but every other descendent she had met was no older than thirty, at the most, and Via had been expecting the trend to be about the same throughout.  She quickly discovered, however, that this was not so.  There was no doubt of Shatajit's Arabian ancestry, what with his dark hair, eyes, skin, and beard, but he had a sort of youthful vigor to him that gave Via the initial impression that he was only twenty or so.  On closer inspection, the gray hairs that laced his hair and beard were an obvious hint of his impending age and tired wrinkles slowly amassed on his brow and around his eyes.  His cook's whites were spotless, despite the hint of melee around the kitchen area itself, and Via, looking into this older man's eyes, couldn't help but feel secure in this big, dangerous base.  Shatajit, she guessed, would be her best bet when it came to support in this lonely place.

He smiled at her when they walked in, but he didn't let his eyes stray too long from whatever it was he was cooking.  Chance led Via to the counter.

"Shatajit?  This is Via Maxwell.  You've probably heard of her."

The older man examined Via briefly, flashing her a wide grin.  "So this is the little rascal that everyone's been wondering and talking about, eh?  I didn't think you'd  be quite so young, Vi, but I've got to say that you're a pretty little thing.  You look a little bit like your grandfather did."

"You knew him?"  Via quickly decided that she liked this guy.  For one thing, he was one of the first people she'd met since she'd been in space that actually spoke to her and not to Chance.  He didn't try to speak as though she wasn't there at all.  And for another thing, he called her Vi.  The fact that the only person who had ever called her Vi before was her father made the name sound strangely comforting, even coming from this old stranger.

"Not long," Shatajit told her with a soft smile.  "But I remember that he was a fine old man, even back then.  He was only with the company for a brief time, but, of course, that was the case with most all of the Maxwells, I'm afraid.  Your breed doesn't usually stick around very long.  It's a pity, though.  I always thought that your family had some of the best lineage I'd ever seen.  And you all had a strange proclivity to look like the original Duo."

"I've noticed that.  And if I hadn't by now, everyone who has ever read a history book would have decided to point it out at least a hundred thousand times." Via grinned cheerfully.  "So what do you have to eat in this joint?"

Shatajit laughed, and his laugh filled the room like massive bells.  "Another trait you Maxwells seem to share--you all think on your stomachs""  Shatajit set down his mixing bowl and disappeared a minute into the kitchen.  He came back quickly.  "Well, we've got some sort of processed cow meat you may like.  I've never been too fond of the stuff myself, but I've heard it's all the rage down on the colonies.  What do you call it?  Hamburger?"

Via grinned.  "Can I have that?  With a bun, ketchup, lettuce, and tomato?"

Chance looked appalled.  "Via!"

"What?  Shatajit said it himself--we Maxwells think of food first and courtesy later.  Chill out a little, Chance.  I still haven't quite forgiven you for trying to shoot me."

Shatajit gave Chance an odd look.  "You're calling yourself Chance now, Subduar?"

Chance shrugged.  "It works.  And it's better than Subduar."

Via's eyebrows lifted.  "I take it Chance isn't your regular pseudo-name."

"No."  Chance looked a little bit put out, and Via decided to drop the subject.  Shatajit's glance shifted from one teen to the other before he shrugged and smiled, disappearing behind his counter.

"One cow-burger coming up, Vi!"

Chance took Via's arm and led her to a table.  "We have about ten minutes until everyone else comes in for the evening meal.  In the company we don't necessarily have specific meal times, but it's easiest on everyone if we all come in bunches, so everyone normally ends up eating right around the same time as everyone else."

"Neat."  Via looked around briefly.  "Is the food any good?"

Shatajit appeared out of nowhere and laughed, setting down a plate on which a hamburger was resting, bun, ketchup, lettuce, tomato, and all.  "I guess you'll just have to judge that for yourself, Vi.  As the French say it sometimes, bongo appetite!"

Chance snorted.  "Only if they have incredibly bad language skills."

Shatajit smiled.  "Says the boy who has never taken a French class in his life.  I would know; I was there."

"I still know that it's not said 'bongo appetite.'  That's just ridiculous."

Via suddenly felt as though she had to intervene to avoid witnessing an argument.  "That was quick cooking," Via observed, eyeing the food with anticipation.

"It's magic."  Shatajit grinned, sitting down beside Chance.  "You might want to let it cool a bit before you bite into it, though.  The microwave is a bit old, from around the AC 200 era, but it still heats things up hotter than you want them to be.  Someday one of the people here will get their tongue burned off or something and try to sue me.  It'll be just my luck if it's someone who can."  Shatajit shrugged, looking back into the kitchen with a smile on his lips.  "Nifty little thing."

Chance lifted an eyebrow, obviously intrigued.  "There's a microwave back there?"

Via grinned.  "Don't spend a lot of time in the kitchens, Chance?"

"No.  There's a microwave back there?" he repeated, frowning at Shatajit.

"Surprise."

"Then why, when Natasha gave me cooking duty a few months back, did you make me warm up that meaty stuff in a pot of boiling water?"

"I guess it slipped my mind."  Shatajit smiled at Chance and turned back to Via, who was poking the burger with a pout, waiting for it to cool down enough so she wouldn't burn her mouth on the first bite.  "I heard you had a rough trip coming in, Vi."

"Apparently it was someone's bright idea to drug me."  Via eyed Chance suspiciously.  She couldn't remember if he'd said anything about him being the one whose idea it was or not.  For all she knew it could be the doctor's!  "And someone messed with the dosage."

"We think."  Chance frowned at Via.  "She tends to assume too many things too quickly, Shatajit.  You'll learn to ignore that after awhile."

The dark man shook his head.  "She might have a point, Subduar.  Or what is it now—Chance?  Whatever it is, we can't ignore the theory that maybe someone did fool with the dosage.  It's good that she's looking out for herself--she's a Maxwell and Maxwell's don't do very well here.  Most of them end up dead, or worse."

"Great, make her even more paranoid.  That'll be wonderful."  Chance sighed, looking back at Via, who was happily watching them and trying to poke her food at the same time.  It was still hot to the touch and waves of steam were radiating off of it.  Satisfied, she picked it up and took a large bite and turned to face him.

"Acgooy ah degeoi oo iggno aaa o tha, bu fangs foo been converv," she said around a mouthful of burger.  Chance frowned at her.

"What?"

Via swallowed.  "I said: Actually, I decided to ignore all of that, but thanks for being concerned."

"Oh."  Chance smiled vaguely.  "No problem."

Shatajit grinned, eyes moving from one face to the other.  "Why is it I sense some definite teenage tension between the two of you?"

Chance blushed a pale pink, but Via ignored the man pointedly.  Could he be anymore blunt?  "This burger's really good, Shatajit.  Better than what I've had at a lot of major colony franchises, that's for sure, and a lot better than I could ever do."

"I told you that there was something magical about frozen food!"  Shatajit let out a cheerful laugh, letting his previous question be dropped.  "No one ever believes me when I say it, but frozen food is the greatest thing that ever happened to anyone who has to pull a meal together for two hundred people in an hour or less.  Take last night's dinner, for instance.  I just pulled a few boxed chicken parts out of the freezer and opened a bagged salad.  You weren't there, granted, but let me tell you that it was good.  Take my word for it.  And everyone ate chicken salad without complaint."

Chance made a face.  "That stuff was frozen?"

"Did you think I had a hen house and a garden in the back?"

"Can't you let a guy have his little dreams?  Besides, you did say you had a microwave."

A few people wandered in and Shatajit grinned, winking at Via.  "I'll catch you later, Vi."

"Bye," Via said around a mouthful of hamburger.

He left quickly, retreating to the kitchen, as Natasha came in and approached Chance.  She cleared her throat loudly.  "Subduar, you are supposed to be working on recovering the reparation information."

Chance groaned, looking up at the older woman.  "I'd rather be cleaning the bathrooms."

"That can be arranged."  She frowned at the half a burger that still rested on Via's plate.  "Red meat will kill you."

Via shrugged.  "So will a well-aimed bus.  What's your point?"  She took a large bite out of her burger and swallowed.  Then she smiled happily at the blond woman, holding out the remaining portion.  "Want some?"

Natasha scowled and looked pointedly at Chance.  "Get started on your duties or I'll make sure to arrange that latrine clean up for you," she said sharply before stalking away.

Chance frowned.  "She's in a bad mood.  I wonder why."

"If  I suggested that it was a girl thing, would you cringe?"

"Probably."

"Then I won't suggest it."

"Good."  Chance smiled at her.  "Whenever you're done, we can get on with what we have to do.  No matter what I tell Natasha, cleaning the johns isn't my idea of a great chore."

Via laughed, swallowing the rest of her burger.  "Let's go!  I want to play with the Gundams!"

--to be continued--