Where: The dining hall
When: Dinner time, Wednesday, June 16th
Invited: ALL PLAY!
Once they'd all been examined by the doctors and pronounced safe to mingle with the locals (barring later results of lab tests, anyway), they'd been given a brief tour of Gamma Town. As they'd gathered from their orbital survey and then from closer looks as they'd landed, this was only one colony site. It was the largest, to be sure. None of the other settlements or outposts were anywhere close to the size of Gamma Town.
Which, to be honest, wasn't all that big. About the size of Smallville, Chloe figured. Nothing like the size of Metropolis. On the other hand, with the skip drive out of commission they weren't going to be exploring alternate realities again anytime soon, if ever. And with earth gone, there might well be no larger populations anywhere. Certainly none from earth--and a heavily populated world of Goa'uld slaves (or former slaves) held no appeal for Chloe.
"So we stay," Chloe said to herself.
"What?" Cassandra asked.
"Nothing important," Chloe said. They were just arriving at a communal dining hall. It was one of several serving the community. A growing percentage of the colonists had built themselves homes that included cooking facilities (their guide told them) but most everyone still ate some or most of their meals in the dining halls. It was still more efficient to cook for large numbers, and it provided an opportunity for social intercourse. A line of people already stretched out the door.
"Don't say it," Xander said, pointing at Faith.
"Say what?" Faith asked. Her attempt to look innocent was ruined by the smirk that curled a corner of her mouth. Xander shook his head and said nothing. They joined the end of the line.
"So what's on the menu tonight?" Cassandra asked Corporal Fitzgerald, who'd been assigned to show them around.
He grinned and looked at Cassandra. He gawked at Cassandra's breasts for a moment before dragging his gaze up to meet hers. "I don't know for sure, but the odds are it's fish or fowl."
"Why?" Chloe asked, though she suspected she knew the answer.
Fitzgerald shifted his gaze to Chloe--to her breasts, specifically, for a moment before meeting her eyes. He was either incredibly brazen or he really didn't know he was doing it. Chloe was willing to bet on the latter. "Because fresh food beats the hell out of frozen, canned or salted," Fitzgerald said.
He went on to explain but Chloe didn't bother listening. It was just as she'd thought. The colonists had undoubtedly brought domesticated animals with them, but they hadn't been here long enough to build up herds large enough to sustainably feed them--but the planet was incredibly fertile. Chloe and the others had seen it from high in the sky.
Flocks of birds darkened the skies in a way they hadn't on earth in centuries. They'd be a menace to navigation--if the colonists had more than a single jumper to worry about. Vast schools of fish darkened the seas likewise, and pods of whales--or creatures very like them--moved in huge numbers as well. And herds of herbivores that dwarfed any Chloe had ever seen in Africa roamed the plains of the continents they'd overflown during their survey of the planet. The colonists would able to harvest food enough to feed themselves for decades without making a dent in the numbers. Given that, canned and preserved foodstuffs from earth would be a poor second choice.
Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Chloe felt eyes on her, though she was pleased to see that most of them weren't leaving tracks all over her breasts. She wondered who would be the first to speak to them.