Soul Food - sequel to Diplomacy
"No." The Colonel's voice was firm, with the no nonsense tone that screamed out to anyone listening his determination to not change his mind.
"But, Jack."
"No. No way Daniel. Absolutely no way."
"Colonel." General Hammond interjected, forestalling the developing argument, "I understand your reluctance to revisit PH3-K52, but I'm afraid that it wasn't a request." He ignored the disgusted look on the Colonel's face and carried on. "The trade negotiations are at a critical stage and the Chief has specifically asked for your presence."
Jack ran a hand through his short grey hair and sighed. "You see-that's what I just don't get. Why does he want me back? Everything was going swell, then, wham-we must have O'Neill back. Why?"
"I have my suspicions about that, Jack." Daniel looked up uncomfortably from his notes. "Ah-I don't know exactly how to put it."
"For cryin' out loud, Daniel! Just spit it out." Jack glared at the hesitating man.
Daniel quickly looked back down at the papers in front of him. His next words were hurried and almost too soft to be heard.
"I think that he's bored."
"Pardon, Daniel? I don't think that I heard you properly." The Colonel's tone oozed sarcasm.
"The Chief is bored, Jack. Okay? Bored. So he asked for you back."
"He asked for me back? What am I, some sort of court jester? Crack a few jokes, throw up a few times, and generally amuse? Is that it, Doctor Jackson?"
If Daniel had thought that Jack had been sarcastic before, now he really understood the term. It was only the amused smile on the General's face that kept him from answering back in the same manner.
"It isn't like that at all. Quite the opposite in fact. We explained to Chief Gatma that our tribe didn't have the same traditions and he was very impressed that you had survived the leader's meal without the proper preparations. He's not really involved in the negotiations, but he has to attend the meetings and I think that he wants someone to talk to." Daniel ducked his head and waited for the explosion.
It didn't come.
"Would I have to sit through these meetings too?"
"I don't think so, or at least not all of them. The Chief expressed an interest in showing you some of their local customs, maybe take in a bit of hunting or some such thing, so it seems like neither of you would be required to be there at all times."
"So if I went, the chief would get out of the meetings and I would get to go hunting?" Jack's face had lost some of its hardness and a thoughtful expression now lit his eyes. He was obviously beginning to rethink his opposition to the plan. He managed a begrudging nod. "I think that I could manage that."
"Yes, Colonel, I'm sure that you can." The General seemed to have mastered sarcasm as well. "You have a go. . .0900 hours tomorrow."
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Jack left the meeting, turning over the possibilities in his mind. He could do with a break; he had noticed a creek running near the village that looked like it was practically brimming with fish. Before he had gotten out of his chair at the briefing table, he had already started to mentally choose which rod he could fit into his pack without being too obvious about it.
There had been no need to let Daniel and the General in on his plans though.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"This is fun. Isn't this fun, kids?" Jack positively beamed at his annoyed team-mates.
"Yes, Sir. And may I say, Sir, how much I appreciate the opportunity to sit with the women and embroider, Sir. I am grateful for the opportunity to hone my sewing skills. You never know when I might need them in a combat situation, Sir."
"Do I detect a note of irritation in your voice, Major? I would have thought that the chance to improve relations between our two planets would have been sufficient incentive for you." Jack smiled benevolently before turning his sights on the archaeologist. "And, Daniel, how about you? You must be loving every second, being able to observe the culture at first hand?"
If anything, Daniel's glare was even more irritated than Sam's. He stretched out his legs and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I would be loving it if I had time to observe the culture, Jack, but as you volunteered me to take the minutes of the meetings-the very long and tedious meetings I might add-I barely have time to scratch myself."
"Ewww, not a nice image there, Danny Boy." Jack reached forward and patted him on the shoulder. "Just think of the good that you're doing, helping to cement relations with our new friends. Just as I am with the Chief."
"Indeed, O'Neill. I must thank you for allowing me to guard the delegates. Standing for hours alongside the village champion, holding an ancient axe and wearing a head dress of bright orange feathers is one of the most fulfilling times that I have experienced in my long life. I will remember it always. As I will remember that it was you, O'Neill that gave me this opportunity."
Suddenly the whole situation had lost its humor.
Jack edged towards the door, fishing rod in hand. "Ah. . .better go, Chief Gatma is waiting for me." As he reached the threshold, he turned and waved. "Have a good day, kids. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."
"Gee, thanks for the warning, Jack. We'll try not to." Daniel's bitter reply followed him as he left the hut. He couldn't help grinning as he spotted the Chief, an equally pleased expression on his face, coming towards him.
This mission was just getting better and better.
Colonel O'Neill entered the hut and surveyed his team. They each looked up from what they were doing, and seeing his expression, exchanged worried glances. Daniel put down his book.
"Something wrong, Jack?"
He watched as his friend came slowly into the small room and sat down near the fire. "I've got some bad news." Jack audibly swallowed. "Chief Gatma insists on giving us a farewell feast." He bent forward and rested his head on his hands, his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain. "And that's not all. There will be some special dishes cooked, and I quote 'especially for you'."
Sam shuddered, remembering the spider stew that the Colonel had been forced to eat on their previous visit. "But the Chief was told how you almost died the last time, Sir. Surely he wouldn't give you anything like that again." She tried to inject a little positiveness into her voice. "You don't need to worry. Maybe I can test the food before you eat it."
"I don't know, Carter. We don't want to insult them at this stage in the proceedings." The Colonel stayed motionless for several more seconds, then he lifted his head and stared into the fire. "We'll just have to grin and bear it."
"We, O'Neill?"
"Didn't I tell you?" The Colonel's eyes stayed focused on the flames, as if he was unable to look them in the eye. "This time we all get to eat the special dishes."
There was complete silence. Three stunned faces reflected the horror that they all felt. Nothing more was said.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The four members of SG-1 sat in places of honor at the head of the table, Colonel Jack O'Neill in the middle. Across from them, Chief Gatma was flanked by his eldest son and champion warrior-Teal'c companion of the past several days. Further down the table came other elders and the members of SG-9, the negotiating team, also waiting somewhat anxiously to see what the meal would consist of.
So far the evening had been pleasant. They had been entertained by a group of children, excited at the prospect of singing the new song that Colonel O'Neill had taught them. The fact that none of them knew who Mickey Mouse was hadn't dampened their enthusiasm one bit. The Colonel and Chief Gatma had smiled proudly and sung along, happily spelling out the name with the beaming would-be Mouseketeers.
After the children had been taken off to bed, the first course had been brought out and the SG teams had been relieved to see that it consisted of the same variety of very edible fruit that had been standard fare for the whole of their visit.
Unfortunately, the Chief had then made the announcement that the special dishes would now be presented. The eyes of all the visitors from Earth had involuntarily turned to see the Colonel's reaction.
If he was aware of their scrutiny, the Colonel didn't show it. He sat calmly, looking almost pleased. More than one observer decided that they would use Colonel O'Neill as a role model in their future diplomatic missions.
The Chief's wife rose from her seat behind her husband and gestured to the waiting women at the side of the hall. On her signal they quickly exited and reappeared seconds later carefully carrying large platters overflowing with food.
The platters were placed in front of the four members of SG-1. Colonel O'Neill was handed a serving spoon and everyone waited expectantly.
They all looked down at the large fat, glistening, white bodies of giant grubs, their heads still attached, their small pincher like mouths open.
Major Carter blanched. Doctor Jackson swallowed. Teal'c raised an eyebrow very high. And Colonel O'Neill began ladling out the food.
The grubs were crisp and hard on the outside, but when they were cut into, the middles oozed with soft, pale red runny flesh.
The Chief smiled at the Colonel and the Colonel smiled back, speared a piece of grub and raised it to his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Excellent" The Colonel's verdict was greeted with pleased smiles from the watching natives. Then all eyes, including the Colonel's turned to the other members of SG-1. O'Neill's quick surreptitious gesture made it plain that they had to follow his example.
"Ummm! Very tasty." Daniel's skill at diplomacy obviously matched the Colonel's. "No, no - I couldn't - really." He shook his head as one of the women serving went to put more grubs onto his plate and sat back, a slight smile on his face.
Sam chewed slowly, her face expressionless. Only her small swallows betrayed her distress to those who knew her well. Teal'c watched, waiting for her reaction to the meal, before quickly swallowing several large shinny fat grubs whole. He too sat back and waited, as the Major continued to chew.
With a last convulsive gulp, Sam finished her mouthful and, as one, the members of the SGC's premier team turned to SG-9 and grinned. Leading by example had some rewards after all.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
An hour later, the very diplomatic visitors were beginning to relax. The grubs had been followed by several dishes of salad greens and the local version of cheese. The sound of convivial conversation rose from the guests, as the extremely easy drinking wine was drunk in ever increasing quantities.
"That wasn't too bad, Jack." Daniel raised his cup and took another sip of the local red. "I have to admit that those larva things weren't exactly pleasant, but we got through it. We live to fight another day."
"That's easy for you to say, Daniel," Sam interjected, "I think that I'll still taste those things in a week's time. They were terrible."
Jack poured some more wine into her cup. "Now now, Major, they weren't that bad. Here, this'll help to get rid of the taste." He refilled his own cup at the same time and turning back to the Chief, raised his voice, drawing the attention of the rest of the revellers. "Chief Gatma, I would like to thank you on behalf of my men, for this truly memorable meal, a fitting finale for what has been a very productive and pleasant visit."
The Chief smiled back. "Thank you, Colonel O'Neill. My people and I have also enjoyed your company and we hope that it will not be too long before you visit our village once more. As a final gesture, I would like to offer you the last dish of the evening - one that our women have prepared to honor you and your companions." At his words the door opened and the women reappeared with steaming bowls held high.
The smell was almost indescribable. It was as if the contents of the village's toilets were being presented for their enjoyment. This time even Daniel had a hard time not gagging. The ornate bowls, covered with decorative raised designs, were placed reverently in front of them. They were filled with short pieces of seemingly fried meat.
Once again, Colonel O'Neill took the lead. He picked out several lengths of the substance and placed them on his plate. A slight odour similar to garlic could be smelled, but it was almost overwhelmed by the sickly sweet smell of rotting meat. To the stunned amazement of his fellow soldiers, the Colonel began eating.
The Chief waited. His elders waited. The women waited. And their visitors waited.
Jack swallowed, reached down to raise his cup, and took a sip of wine. He seemed to savour it, rolling it around in his mouth. Then he spoke.
"Delicious!" He reached forward and spooned more of the food onto his plate. "Come on, kids, dig in - there's plenty here for everyone."
He grinned broadly.
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"I think that I'm dying!" Daniel Jackson reappeared from the direction of the toilets for the third time in the past twenty minutes. "I didn't know that you could physically puke your guts out, but now I'm sure that you can." He wiped his mouth and sat shakily in a chair.
"Please, Daniel, can you please not talk about it anymore?" Samantha Carter's soft voice pleaded from a bed at the side of the room. "It's bad enough without being reminded every few minutes."
"Indeed. My symbiote is already extremely agitated. I would rather that you stayed quiet so that I can attempt to kel-no-reem." Teal'c closed his eyes and grimaced.
"Where's the Colonel?" Sam raised her head with a groan and looked around. "I hope that he's okay."
"Last I saw Jack, he and the Chief were still at the table finishing the wine. I wouldn't worry, he looked alright." Daniel got up and staggered towards one of the other beds, only to stop halfway and clasp a hand over his mouth.
The door flew open.
"Hi there, campers. How'ya doin'?" Colonel Jack O'Neill stood, resting his body against the doorjamb, a happy smile on his face. He held something in each hand - a bottle of red in his left and in his right a plate of...
Daniel pushed past Jack, a strangled moan making it past his hand. He only just managed to reach the outside of the hut before vomiting noisily into the nearby bushes.
"God, Sir! How could you? Please take those things out of here."
"What, these?" Jack gave his friends a bewildered look. "But I brought them back specially for you. I thought that they turned out really well. The Chief's wife managed to follow my recipe to the letter."
"I beg your pardon, O'Neill. I do not think that I heard you correctly." Teal'c opened his eyes slowly and stared at the Colonel.
"Chief Gatma asked if there was anything that I would particularly like to eat at the feast, to sort of make up for the last time, so I immediately thought of these." Jack gestured at the dish.
"And they are?" Teal'c raised an eyebrow.
"Chitlins - I got to like them when I was stationed at Keesler Air Force Base in Mississippi. I admit that they took a bit of getting use to, but I really got the taste for them." He picked up a piece of meat and began chewing. He continued through his mouthful. "The grubs were great too - exactly the way I like them. Brought back memories of the jungle in..." He stopped and smiled. "Can't tell you where. Would have to shoot you." He turned, lurched sideways, dropping several chitlins onto the hunched figure of Daniel, and took a swig from the bottle. "Anyway, I just popped in to tell you that the Chief and I are going to stay up for a while longer. Get to bed, remember we have an early start in the morning. Great mission this. We'll have to come back real soon."
With a cheery wave the Colonel left his incredulous teammates and wove his way out into the night.
The End