This is a two part story—the end is conveniently entitled Captive Audience 2. I know, it's catchy. I can't help myself.

Captive Audience

"So, how long do you think it'll take?"

"For what?"

"For these Rastafarians to decide that we're all right?"

Daniel looked up from his journal, his glasses nearly sliding off the tip of his nose. "Actually, Jack. The Rata Gari explained that this ritual is merely that—a symbolic imprisonment that signifies that we don't think we're better than they are."

"Then the prison itself should be symbolic, and not actual." Jack sat where he normally sat in a prison, on the floor near the bars, one arm casually hanging out.

Teal'c was in one corner, Daniel in another, and Carter sat in her own cell across the way. Apparently, the Rata Gari didn't believe in coeducational dorms.

"I mean, they could've at least given us something to eat." He looked around, a look of consternation on his face. "Or a john."

"I'm sure they'll take care of whatever our needs are during the time of the ritual."

"Do you always just believe in people like that, Daniel?"

"What do you mean?" Daniel flipped his journal closed, and pushed his glasses up to give his full attention to Jack. "Are you saying that I'm gullible?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"It is indeed like that." Teal'c intoned from his corner. He'd been taking Daniel's side more often lately, the traitor.

"No—it's not, T. It's just that Daniel seems to take people at their word." The Colonel reached up and hung his arm off the cross bar of the cell gate. "I'm more of a skeptical bent, myself."

From far away, they could hear Carter snort.

"What's that, Carter? Do you have something to add?"

"Nothing, sir." Her voice sounded vaguely disembodied. Probably from echoing around the stone walls of the jail.

----OOOOOOO----

They'd stepped through the 'Gate several hours earlier, on a routine follow-up visit to a civilization first contacted some days earlier by another SG team. It wasn't an advanced society, but the people had managed to avoid enslavement by the Goa'uld. SG-1's job was to try to negotiate trade relations so that they could acquire some of the planet's vast naquadah resources.

But first, apparently, they had to spend some time in jail.

The village where the 'Gate was located lay in lowlands, surrounded on all sides by towering naquadah-rich mountains. The 'Gate itself sat in a meadow outside town. The village was quaint—wooden structures arranged in concentric circles around a center clearing about the size of a basketball court.

And in the center of the basketball court sat—a roof.

So Jack had asked. "What's with the roof?"

"That would be the site of Rata Gue." Their guide had been a small man, with smart eyes and a quick smile. He'd called himself Matu.

"Rata-what?"

"Rata Gue." Matu repeated, more slowly. "It is a ritual that puts everyone on an even footing."

Jack looked down at his boots. "We've, uh, already had that conversation."

Teal'c had hinted at what passed for a smile. "I believe I emerged victorious that day, O'Neill."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack grimaced. "You and your enormous planks."

"Come on, guys, we're not talking about shoes, here." This from Daniel.

"Neither were we that day, Daniel." Jack grinned at him. "Or didn't you get that?"

Sam had rolled her eyes, sighed, and stepped closer to the little villager. "What exactly is the rite of Rata Gue?"

"This structure is a jail of sorts, meant to welcome newcomers." He'd flourished a hand towards the roof. "It is a set of cells carved deep in the rocks in which we live. It is a symbol that you enter the Rooms of Rata Gue, reside there within our beloved rock, and then emerge, having been birthed by the stone."

"Interesting." Daniel gazed at the structure speculatively. "It sounds similar to an Earth ritual that some religious believers practice, known as 'baptism'."

"Oh?" Matu cocked his head to one side and waited politely.

"Well," Daniel began, "On Earth, these believers want to show their piety, and so they gain admittance into the number of followers by entering into a pool of water, being submerged, and then re-emerging from the water. It's symbolic of both becoming cleansed of one's transgressions, and the death and resurrection of their religious leader."

"It sounds very much like a ritual we practice here in Rata Garia."

"Really?" Daniel's eyebrows shot up.

"We call it bathing." The guide smiled and gave a little half bow before gently herding them towards the roof.

"So much for the missionary work," Jack grinned at Daniel, trailing behind the guide, who was traipsing along beside Carter. "Unless you brought some pamphlets along."

Daniel had perfected a look which told Jack exactly what he was thinking. He flashed it at the Colonel now. The Colonel wasn't flattered.

They rounded the building until they came to the entrance. It was little more than a recessed set of stairs that led down to a simple wooden door. The roof didn't sit on the ground, although eaves on two sides of the building made it appear so. The structure actually poked up out of the sod around three feet—enough for ventilation and a few decent sized windows.

"You will spend your Rata Gue here." The little man had held out a hand toward the door. "There are no locks, no chains in the rooms. They are merely comfortable cells in which to show your obeisance to the Rata Gari. When you emerge, we will then talk of trade."

Carter descended first, gently pushing the door open and entering the dim, cool rooms. The guide shadowed her, then moved aside as the rest of the team had entered.

A tiny foyer emptied into a hallway, from which four individual cells branched out. There were, indeed, no locks on the doors, and no chains, but the non-similarity to a medieval dungeon stalled there. The walls were dark stone, slightly damp, and the floors little more than hard-packed dirt. The beams of the roof gleamed of aged wood, and loomed low over them. Windows set near the roof in the far wall, opposite the entry, let in light and fresh air, and tufts of grass could be seen trailing in through the sills. Any of them, standing, could see clearly out of the windows. The cells contained no beds, no benches, no furniture of any kind—just walls, and bars, and that ever present musty smell usually associated with garages and basements.

O'Neill crossed to one of the large, clean cells, peering through the bars with wary interest. "So, we're supposed to stay in here to show what again?"

"That you consciously approach us as equals." The little man crossed to one cell and opened the door. "You will be trusted not to leave this cell without our permission. Once we have measured your honor, we will then retrieve you and we will discuss trade."

"So you're not going to lock us in?"

"No."

"You're not going to take our stuff?"

"Of course not."

"Not even our weapons?"

"We have weapons of our own—we have no need of yours."

One of O'Neill's eyes twitched. "Too good to be true" usually meant "eventually this will bite you in the butt".

"Sir." Carter drew near up on O'Neill's side, then turned so that her back was to the guide. "The naquadah on this planet seems to be plentiful and fairly simple to extract. I believe that this could be an important alliance."

"I know, Carter, but you know me and jail."

She smiled. "Yes, sir. I'm just saying that we'll still have our weapons, our gear. There are no locks on the cell doors, and I've got ample supplies in my pack."

"They're a peaceful people, Jack." Daniel had opined quietly. "This imprisonment will most likely only last a short time, and then we'll get to the trade talks."

Jack grunted, then let out a loud, harsh sigh. Turning towards their host, he said. "Okay. What do we do?"

Matu had smiled and crossed to the first door. "The female among you will occupy this cell. The rest of you will share that one over there." He'd pointed.

"Segregation?"

"Of course." The guide had spoken as if he couldn't imagine any other way.

"Carter gets a suite and we have to bunk together." O'Neill watched as the Major had entered her cell and removed her pack. "Nice."

"I'm sure it will only be for a short period of time, right Matu?"

The guide had already hustled over to the other door and opened it wide. "The gentlemen will enter here."

Daniel hurried himself in, followed by Teal'c, who stepped aside to let a reluctant O'Neill enter the cell.

As Matu closed the doors, he grinned. "Well! Welcome! We are on our way to true friendship and equal trade!"

And then the little man had practically skipped down the hall and out of the jail.

Nobody had told them that the front door was the one with the lock. On the outside. Which Matu secured tightly before hurrying around to the window and wishing them well.

----OOOOOOO----

"Does anyone have any food?"

"I do sir!" The disembodied voice floated across the way.

"Bring it over."

"I'm not sure I should, sir."

"And why would that be?"

O'Neill heard rustling noises, and pressed his face as far as he could through the bars of his cell. He could barely make out his second in command through the dimness. She'd sat down in the corner nearest their cell, and was rummaging in her pack.

"Ah-ha!" It echoed, this time.

"Whatcha find, Carter?"

A light flared on his face, but she quickly turned the beam toward the ceiling. "I think we're being watched."

"By what?"

"The people here." She focused and stilled the flashlight beam on a brown stone in the center of the room. "I think that's a camera or some other observation device. I first noticed it right after Matu left, but I wanted to look at it with my flashlight just to make sure."

The Colonel stood, stretching as close as he could to the stone. It was rounded, and slightly opaque, but clearly different than the beams which created the ceiling structure. Truth be told, it resembled those half-globe surveillance units found in discount stores.

"Well, will you look at that." Daniel stood and crossed over to join Jack at that gate. "That's how they decide."

"Decide what?"

"Whether or not we are honorable people, O'Neill." Teal'c had stayed in his corner. "If they are indeed capturing our movements with this device, it would signify that they are attempting to ascertain whether we do as we have said he would do."

Jack whipped off his cap and threw it onto the pack he'd deposited on the floor next to his spot. "Well, crap."

"What crap, Jack?"

"I was kind of hoping that we could open these doors and roam around a little bit."

"I would advise against that, sir." Carter called across the void. She shut the flashlight off and started rustling around in her pack again.

"Yeah, Jack, they're trying to see if we're honorable. If we get up and move around, obviously we'll have betrayed our part of the agreement."

"My part of the agreement said that I wasn't going to star in Rastafarian Reality TV."

"Rata Gari." Daniel automatically corrected him. He headed back over to where he'd dropped his backpack on the floor.

"Whatever." The Colonel lowered himself to the ground again, holding on the bars on the way down. He glared up at the stone. "I still don't like being watched."

"I would suggest finding something which with to entertain yourself, O'Neill." Teal'c suggested dryly from his corner. "I intend to attempt to kelnorim."

"Yeah." O'Neill nodded over to him. "You do that. Knock yourself out."

Daniel opened his backpack and withdrew his journal and a pen. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he flipped to a specific page and started writing.

The Colonel sighed. "Well, this is going to get old real quick."

"What's that, sir?" Carter called over.

"I said," he raised his voice and yelled over his shoulder in the direction of her voice. "This is going to get old really quick!"

Daniel scowled over at him. "You don't have to yell, Jack."

"Apparently, I do. She didn't hear me the first time."

"What's that, sir?" The Carter-less voice trailed through the dim hallway.

"I was talking to Daniel!" He was going to get a crick in his neck if this continued long.

"Oh." She sounded a bit forlorn. "Sorry!"

O'Neill sighed. He shifted in his corner, fingered the bars, and scraped at something with his fingernail.

Daniel studiously ignored him. Teal'c had already drifted away. Or the Jaffa was ignoring him, too, which O'Neill had to admit was a distinct possibility.

Jack sighed, looked around, the sighed again.

"So, how long do you think it'll take?"

----OOOOOOO----

To Be Continued in Captive Audience 2