A/N: Alright, this isn't going to happen often, but it IS Monday, as we all know everyone needs the odd pick-me-up on Monday, so you all get a second chapter today. And as everyone knows Drama should be followed by ACTION. Yes, that's right, for those of you wondering when the action would start, perk right up. Or was it drama should be followed by gallows humour? I can never remeber...

Chapter 6

Once again Harm glanced around the briefing room table; this time instead of seeing SG-1 he looked over the members of his newly formed team SG-13. Jack had explained that the original SG-13 team had been taken out by a Gould assault three months before and he'd been leery of giving a new team the designation; Harm's team would be the third team to carry the "unlucky" number.

To Harm's immediate right was his second in command, a SEAL lieutenant by the name of Charlie Jacobs. Over the weeks they'd been training together, Harm had gotten a good feel for the young lieutenant; he was intelligent, quick thinking, and had a very dry sense of humour, not to mention he was a sneaky bastard. Across the table from the two officers sat Gunnery Sergeant Linda Black, a Force Recon trained Marine. As he'd long ago learned with Mac, just because a Marine was an attractive woman didn't mean she couldn't rip off your head and stomp on the remains. She'd proven early on in the training that she was just as tough as the male members of the newly formed SG-13. The fourth and final member of Harm's team sat to Linda's right. Harm still wasn't sure what to make of Corporal Marcus Patterson. Harm knew he was tough; Patterson also came from Force Recon and had the scars to prove it, but the young man was also a university graduate who'd refused a commission and elected to go the enlisted route. It was the university degree that had brought Patterson to the SGC's attention more than his record as a Recon Marine. Marc Patterson had just completed his master's degree in Archaeology, writing a thesis that had reportedly impressed the hell out of Daniel.

Jack strode into the briefing room, bringing Harm's thoughts on his new team to a halt. "So Commander, ready to take the kids out for your first field trip?"

"Beyond ready, General," Harm smiled at his new commanding officer. He still caught himself shaking his head at the differences between Chegwidden and O'Neill.

"Good to hear; and I think we have just the thing for you today." Jack slid a top-secret folder across the table towards Harm. "P8X-47C. We haven't been to this one yet, but it has been on our list for some time. We sent a MALP through the gate yesterday and everything came back looking good. Danny got all drooly at some run down buildings around the Gate, said something about them looking like…Messy Potty. Anyway, your team is up, so you get the honours, and you wouldn't believe how pouty Danny got at that. Simple recon mission Commander. Take your team through, scout out the immediate area, find out if there are any locals. You've got twenty-four hours and then you're back home. Sound good?"

"Aye, aye sir," Harm answered back with a big smile. He couldn't wait to step through the Gate on his own; so far all his off world missions had been with other teams as part of his training. This time it would be just him and SG-13.

"SG-13, you are a go. Gear up and head to the Gate room." Jack winked at Harm and then stood up from the table.

Twenty minutes later Harm and SG-13 stood in the Gate room listening to Walter run through the litany of which chevron was engaged. As Walter's voice came over the speaker saying, "locked," Harm's body tensed up momentarily in expectation of the large backwash created by the forming wormhole within the ring of the Stargate. He was pretty sure as long as he lived he would never see anything that amazing. Looking up at the window to the control room he saw Jack asking Walter questions for a moment before O'Neill keyed the mic in front of him. "Commander, everything looks good on the MALP we left on site. Good hunting."

Nodding, Harm gestured for Gunny Black to take the lead and watched the rest of his team move up the ramp towards the Stargate with their P-90 assault weapons at the ready. Word was the area at the other end was unoccupied, but Harm had worked to train his team to always approach every embarkation as if it was into hostile territory. He hadn't had to work too hard considering the background of his team, but he remembered all too vividly his second trip through the Gate with SG-15. They'd run into a small party of Jaffa looking to dial out at the Gate. SG-15 lost a man that day, and it was something Harm would never forget. As soon as Black entered the wormhole Harm moved quickly up the ramp to follow his team, his own P-90 extended and already moving in a small arc side to side.

With minor muscle tensing, Harm stepped through the event horizon and instantly found himself shivering on a stone platform amidst shattered buildings. The sun was high overhead and God was it bright. Pulling up his sunglasses Harm gave the bone deep chill that accompanied Gate travel a moment to fade and then got his team underway. "Black, Jacobs, secure the area. Patterson, send the MALP back through and then see if you can figure out what the hell 'Messy Potty' is."

"I can already tell you that sir; the style of what remains of these buildings definitely looks Mesopotamian. I can understand why Doctor Jackson would be very interested in checking this place out," Patterson said as he moved to grab the remote control box attached to the recon drone that had been sent through the Gate to take video and atmospheric samples ahead of a SG team.

As Patterson took care of the MALP, Harm scanned the area to make sure his Corporal would be unbothered in his task, pausing only to glance back as the outgoing wormhole formed when Patterson redialled Earth. Aside from the sun shining more brightly, it sure looked like Earth. Lush green grass carpeted the clearing surrounding the Gate, and there was a distant tree line of what looked like fir trees. Hell, Harm heard birds singing in the distance. Well that was a good sign; if the birds were singing there wasn't anyone moving about in the forest in any great numbers.

"Skipper?" Harm heard Jacobs say over the radio.

"Go ahead."

"Immediate area looks clear. Guns found what looks to be a fairly well used game trail leading to the clearing the Gate is situated in. Could lead to a village of some sort. Want us to check it out?"

"Negative, fall back to the clearing. We'll give Patterson some time with the broken rocks before we head out to find the locals."

"Aye, aye Skip, we'll be back in five."

As the Gate shut down Harm looked over his shoulder at Patterson and then gestured towards the surrounding ruins. He'd seen firsthand with SG-15 what happens when you deny an archaeologist the opportunity to examine anything of cultural significance. Soon enough Patterson had found what appeared to be a section of a stone wall with writing on it and was hard at work with a little tiny soft haired paint brush wiping away dirt and dust.

True to his prediction, Jacobs and Black were back at the Gate in five minutes. Harm allowed them to relax a little while Patterson worked. If he was honest with himself, it was actually quite fascinating to watch an archaeologist work. Daniel had told him that the trick to archaeology was to be willing to be bored for days on end for five minutes of excitement. Following Patterson's movements Harm had to wonder what it was like on the 1927 dig that found the Gate, contrary to Sam's error during her rundown of Gate history. Apparently even Sam found Daniel's lectures too dry to completely digest from time to time.

Four hours later Harm decided that it was almost time to tear Patterson away from the ruins and called Black over to where he had relaxed on the steps leading up to the Gate. When the petite Gunnery Sergeant got close enough, Harm smiled up at her. "So Guns, think you'd like to take a walk?"

"Could always use it to work off that oh so filling meal of MREs I just finished, Skipper."

"Take a look at that trail, see where it goes. Stay on channel 2 and radio in every half hour. We'll follow up in 30, but I want you out of sight if you do come across any locals. Hear that Patterson? You've got 30 to pack your gear up and be ready to go."

With a nod Black moved back to where her backpack sat and hauled it up, pausing while Jacobs helped her clip it to her tactical vest. She'd learned one thing she liked about her new CO early. He wasn't too much of a stickler for formalities in the field, provided the job got done properly. She hadn't been too keen on having some too tall pilot as her CO at first, but by the second day of their training together he'd proven to her and the rest of the team that he wasn't your ordinary pilot. Hell, he'd managed to take out General O'Neill twice in one day's training exercise. And if scuttlebutt was right, it was rare for the General to go down; he'd spent too much time in the field to let many people get the drop on him.

As his Gunnery Sergeant disappeared into the tree line, Jacobs moved over by Harm and sat down next to him. "So what's the plan Skipper?"

"We'll take to the trail in 30, follow Black, and hopefully find a nice friendly village that's willing to put us up for the night."

"Sounds good to me," Jacobs said with a smile. Leaning back on the steps, he lowered his boonie hat to shade his eyes. Even though he looked completely relaxed to anyone else, Harm could see that Charlie was ready to go if anything dropped. Chuckling, Harm stood up and checked to make sure his P-90 was ready to go. Hopefully they'd find a village before nightfall.

"Skipper," Patterson came rushing over with a confused look on his face.

"What's up Patterson?"

"I'm not too sure what to make of it, Skip. The ruins, they are Mesopotamian, and so are most of the writings on the walls. From what I can decipher they are a retelling of the stories of the goddess Tiamat. You know, dragon goddess of the Mesopotamians…"

"Right, dragon goddess. What else?" Harm prompted.

"Well the writing changes suddenly."

"Changes how?"

"It's no longer Mesopotamian. I mean there are obviously still Mesopotamian features, but the syntax and structure change suddenly."

Harm was beginning to understand why Jack seemed to have little tolerance for Daniel and his long lectures. "Changed how?"

Sensing his CO's shift in mood Patterson blushed slightly. "Sorry, Skip. The writing seems to become, well, I don't know how, but it shifts to a more Celtic form of writing. And the stories change too; boss, I think there was some sort of Gould civil war here. First the stories are talking about Tiamat, and at the end they were retelling the stories of Cernunous."

"Who?"

"Celtic horned god of the hunt. If I had to guess, not a very pleasant individual."