Sharing some original stuff....


Jordan Roxbury shifted her weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting in the school lunch line. After ten minutes of inching forward a total of five feet, she marched to a vending machine, deposited a dollar bill, and jabbed the button for her selection. Nothing happened. She glanced back up to the top of the device, only to see a sloppily taped out of order sign high above her low eye-level. She uselessly tapped the coin release lever before storming to her lunch table. "Hey, Meg," she began, dropping to a chair, "can I beg for some food?"

"Sure," the other replied. "Have a brownie; it's got sprinkles."

"Right, the whole childhood sprinkle trauma," Jorden recalled, pulling the half-edible desert from her friend's tray. "Thanks."

"So how's your day going?" Megan inquired politely.

"Horrible," she replied, her tone one of nonchalance. "I've got so much homework; I've got to write that King Arthur essary for tomorrow, define thirty words, and study for five tests." She sighed, carefully setting her head ona cleaner part of the table. She continued with her forehead just in front of a math book. "Tonight I'll proably see if that aroma therapy stuff has any merit."

Megan laughed a couple times. "You mean with that bottle of water you've been keeping in your room for four months?"

"That's special water," Jordan replied defensively, picking her head up off the table. "The sign by the spring siad that it was used as a health center in the mid-1800s because people thouth the water wass medicinal."

Thought I'd come on and complain a bit about English class.

Materials.
C'mon. We're in high school; we shouldn't be working on fragments, run-ons, and comma placement in HONORS ENGLISH!!!! We've done that same thing since seventh grade! Really, there must be something more we can do, like the things that my beta reader keeps saying I mess up on. How 'bout those, because we've never learned that before, and I think it's about time instead of spending THREE DAYS! on fragments, run-ons, comma splices, comma placement, apostrophes, etc. I can understand doing that for regular English, but this is Honors. Last year's teacher didn't even do this, but then again, he had a lot more personality in the class room. (Go Mr. W! No, not the bio Mr. W....) Seriously, correct capitalization is not something I need to work on, nor is any of the other stuff. So let's get to it. Lemme learn something! (By the way, in case you're wondering, yes, I do know that all caps is bad and exclamation points should not be used more than one at a time or in the middle of a sentences, but this isn't formal writing and you can't exactly hear th

Diamonds are Forever

I carried three plates of "three cheese chicken" to the table then placed one in front of each person, all the while trying to remain upright despite the dog at my feet.

"Such amazing cooking skills!" David observed sarcastically. "Imagine that!"

"Shut up!" I replied, mock-offended, after translating the Goa'uld words that came to mind. "Or would you rather have your hot frozen food still cold?"

"It's fine," he replied before saying grace. Immediately after, he glanced over at the third person. "So how did Matt end up here?"

The teen stared at me, probably wondering how close I'd come to the truth. "His mother was a good friend of mine. In her will, she asked that he stay with me if anything happened to her."

My boyfriend's brows furrowed, concern growing on his face. "What happened?"

"She died of cancer," Matt answered.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright," the boy acknowledged, taking a particularly large bite.

"How was your trip to Germany last month?" David inquired, no doubt changing the subject away from what he thought was a painful subject for the high schooler. Matt perked up at the question; he wanted to know the answer, too.

I shrugged, wondering how I could prase the truth--a trip to the Tok'ra base--to make it sound normal. "Tiring. My travel partner thought about not going at the last minute, but I finally convinced him it would be worthwhile. Jacob doesn't come with us anymore; the council thinks he's more sympathetic with our culture than theirs. I'm glad I don't spend a lot of time over there; they'd probably think I'd turned evil."

"Does your inner child want to travel?" Matt asked, his question really meaning 'does Vinnet want to leave?'

"Yes and no," I replied. "I really enjoy it here, but they could always use my help there."

"Wait, are you German or American?" David interrupted.

"American," I answered honestly, dropping out of the metaphoric speaking.

"Wait, but?" David began, only to be interrupted by the phone.

"Can you answer that for me? It's probably Dad."

He nodded and leaned back to grab the portable phone on the counter behind him. "Hello?" He listened for a moment. "I think you've got the wrong number..."

"Who is it?" I wondered.

"I don't know," David replied. "Here."

I accepted the proffered phone from him. "Hello?"

"Reeses?" Jack's voice came over the phone.

"Here."

"Jacob called with some bad news," he informed me. "Said you'd want to know."

A weight settled in the pit of my stomach; not one of my calls from the SGC had ever begun with 'you'd want to know.' "Yes?"

"Vandrof's host died; he caught a few staff weapons blasts. Jacob wanted you to understand, though, that Vandrof's still alive."

"He needs a...?"

"Yeah. Didn't sound urgent. They've got a tank like Lantash had."

"Okay, thanks." I hung up then stared at my plate.

"He was trying to reach Reeses," David observed.

"That's my nickname at work," I explained, now picking at my food, suddenly not half as hungry as I had been before.

"That's funy. You can't stand peanut butter. I don't know why you even keep some around the house."

You'd laugh if I told you, I thought in reply.

"So how many do they need?" Matt inquired. "Can I--we--help?" he added, taking David into account.

"Just one. Remember the guy you met when you went with me?"

"Which one?"

I frowned, tyring to think of who he'd seen during his off-world excursion. "The pilot on the return flight."

His eyes widened. "Him? What happened?"

"He was shot. I don't know the particular circumstances, but with the the war and all..."

"That's horrible!" David interjected. "Did you know him well?"

I shrugged. "Friend of a friend. She's told me all about him. I finally got to meet him a few months ago."

"I'm sorry. Is he alright?"

"Stable," I replied simply.

"I'll pray for him," David promised.

Matt glanced to my boyfriend, looking worried, but he spoke anyway. "Do you know who you'll take with you to... visit him in the hospital?"

"I'll go with you if you want," the other offered.

"Uh, thanks," I relied, glanced back to the teenager. "But, no, I don't have anyone in mind yet."

The high-schooler grinned mischievously. "David siad he'd go."

I levelled an unappreciative glare in the boy's direction. "I heard him," I growled.

***

After the visitor had left, I sat in my office, pouring over notes on arious possible hosts, but Vinnet thought none of them would make a great host for Vandrof. Of those on that short list, a full half gave me the distinct impression that at the first mention of the word symbiote, a yes would no longer be possible.

I heard a light tap at the office door, and after a long sigh, I looked up to see Matt leaning against the door frame, Garshie at his feet. "Vinnet see anyone who could blend with Vandrof?"

I shook my head then allowed my symbiote to surface. "He is quite open-minded; no host could permanently bother him unless he held any Goa'uld in high regard. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for those we have contacted about becoming hosts. Usually, we find Tau'ri whose personality is imilar to the symbiotes'."

"God provides," Matt noted.

"If you see it that way," Vinnet replied cooly.

My history class this year has a lot to do with cultures, and the common features of every culture. So I was thinking... There are a ton of different, alien cultures represented in Stargate. Are they complete cultures? Do they have everything present in cultures? So I took the guide I was working from and applied it to the Goa'uld/Jaffa/Lotaur/Humans civilization.

Customs and traditions
>>holiday traditions--We don't actually know if they have holidays.
>>table manners--Goa'uld: eat food live, two hands, no utensils, wait for group... okay, maybe some dishes every now and then.... Jaffa: cooked food, dishes, probably utensils.
>>what you wear to a prom--they don't have proms, but if they did, Goa'uld: same outfits as usual Jaffa: probably come up with some spiffy-ish dress
>>punishment for murder--Goa'uld or Jaffa: promotion, granted that you've "bested" the right people
>>behavior in a theater--Jaffa: shut up and don't disrupt viewing experience for the "gods" Goa'uld: do whatever you want

Units of Social Organization
>>family--Goa'uld: not so important, loose... Jaffa: tight, loving, honor
>>academic classes--Jaffa: one on one training. If you don't know the First Prime, don't hope to be the First Prime...
>>circle of friends--Jaffa: see above Goa'uld: friends? What friends?
>>occupation--Goa'uld: System Lord or not... Jaffa: First Prime, royal guard, or dead footsoldier... Humans serving Goa'uld: lotaur or not
>>social class--not that I haven't touched on it... Goa'uld System Lords above Mini-Goa'uld above First Prime above Royal Guard above Jaffa footsoldier above Jaffa Priests above Jaffa Priestesses above the Lotaur above the rest of the meddling humans and the young and female Jaffa

Language
>>official language--Goa'uld then English (unless you watch in German or French or Spanish, then it's that....)
>>dialects--"This appears to be written in an obscure dialect of Goa'uld."

Types of Government
Okay, each Goa'uld's territory is pretty much a dictatorship. The whole system lords thing is almost democracy (or an oligarchy), except that they never agree on anything.

Uniqueness of Arts and Literature
Really, what Stargate fan can't tell Goa'uld architecture from Asgard?
>>art--think of that nice little sculpture on top of the vat of symbiotes in the episode where Danny went to Goa'uld Mardi Gras.
>>music--Um... I think there was music... somewhere. I just don't remember where. But sure, they have music...
>>literature--Heiroglyphics. I know it's all history, but I guess it can still be literature. I mean, they've got to have something written in heiroglyphics on all those Ha'taks... unless that's the warrenty...
>>Folk Tales--among Jaffa, at least, there's the legend of Kheb, that of the Tok'ra, and probably other things I forgot...
>>architecture--Goa'uld architecture isn't all that unique, except for the ships. Those are very distinct in the battle between smooth, flowing curves and odd, sharp angles. Jaffa architecture is an interesting blend of stonework and natural roofing, along with wood and or stone doors. Not much in the way of glass, though, as I recall. Think someone should teach them how to get electricity? Light bulbs? Bubble baths? Etc?

Religion
Gee, I wonder what that could be? Not that it's so painfully obvious in the whole show! Everyone under the local Goa'uld is supposed to worship it as a deity, whether that be a Jaffa or human or lotaur. Each local Goa'uld distributes his own creation myth. That's about it.

Economic System
This one's really hard to figure out for Goa'uld/Jaffa society; when do we ever hear of any kind of currency in Goa'uld-town? Never! Sure, they're worried about treasure and they're all greedy, but they're not after any kind of currency. Each Goa'uld provides for himself via the Jaffa (and humans) who serve him, but when do we ever see the Jaffa providing him themselves? You never hear of Jaffa going out on hunting trips or farming, but they have food and meat on the table. You never hear of Jaffa carpenders or construction workers, but they have houses. You never hear of Jaffa schools, but they seem to know everything they need. You never hear of Jaffa entertainment centers, but the youngsters and mothers have to do something all day while their husbands and fathers are off dying on the other side of the galaxy. I think I found where the Stargate people need to use some of that creative energy....

Vinnet's assignments

10 sentences about you auf Deutsch (by Vinnet)
Ich bin ein Tok'ra. Ich heisse Vinnet. Ich habe Tok'ra gern. Ich habe zatn'katels auch gern. Ich wohne am Erd. Ich komme mit das Stargate. Ich komme aus Iechnor. Ich habe ein Hund, wer heisst Garshie. Ich wohne in Sarah Anderson. Meine Lieblingsfarbe ist grün.

Why are you taking honors history this year? (by Sarah; the true answer)

You figure that everyone's got to have their favorite classes, symbiotes included, but seriously, no one should really love a core class so much! I know the whole school thing is kind of an elective for Vinnet, maybe even a vacation, but history isn't so great that she should adore it.

She has this whole thing about learning about Earth's cultures; it's kind of a hobby. Sure, she enjoys what I like, mainly German (not a core class, by the way), but she looks forward to history every day. That's not saying I hate it; I dislike it less than I used to because of her. (Mom and Dad think the subject's growing on me because I've got more interesting teachers. I wish! But as long as they don't know about Vinnet, they can believe whatever they want.)

So, to answer the question, I'm taking this class, because the snake in my head told me to.