A/N: This story kind of revolves around an interesting idea I had, so I tried to flesh out a story for it. Please tell me what you think; I'm open to suggestions and criticism.
A Tangled Green
Stepping out of the Stargate onto the usual raised platform, SG-1 expected the normalcy to continue out to an empty clearing or field of some sort with the requisite DHD nearby. The MALP hadn't shown any life signs in its preliminary scans, so it came as a bit of a shock to instead walk out of the gate and look down the hill a bit to see a somewhat large crowd gathered around a dais on which sat a gilded throne.
On the throne sat an unsurprisingly overdressed man, surrounded by armor-clad guards carrying telltale staff weapons. Standing before the dais, in a bit of a clearing the crowd had made around them, were three people. Their dress contrasted with both the obviously ragged and tattered crowd and the extravagantly dressed man sitting upon the throne. It was simple in design, borrowing from a somewhat dull color palate of greens and browns. The clothing seemed to be held together and wrapped around the peoples' bodies with some type of vine, adding to the green already present on the cloth. The two men wore somewhat long tunics belted over pants. The woman standing in front wore a belted dress that fell to her knees and her legs were wrapped with matching cloth down to the ankles. The entire party was barefoot and sported almost bleached white hair.
The woman in front was gesturing and seemed to be speaking to the man languishing on the throne. He gazed back in an obviously uninterested manner. Everyone else present was intently focused on the conversation, taking no notice of the Stargate's activation nor the team that had come through it.
After observing the completely unexpected spectacle below for a few moments, Teal'c spoke up. "I believe that this is the domain of a Goa'uld."
"Couldn't possibly be because of the staff weapons, huh?" Colonel O'Neill asked sarcastically.
"As a matter of fact, O'Neill, that was what brought me to that conclusion." Teal'c stoically replied. O'Neill threw up his hands in exasperation; sarcasm was totally lost on this one.
Dr. Jackson leaned forward a bit, squinting down at the gathering. "It's a bit hard to see, but I don't think I recognize the markings on the Jaffa." It was too bad Sam wasn't with them; she was notorious for her eagle-eye vision. Unfortunately, she and the entire science department were working on a device found offworld that supposedly would be the answer to all their clean energy needs.
"Oh well, you know…" O'Neill made suggestive circles around his eyes, but before he could say more, there seemed to be a commotion down the hill.
It looked like the goa'uld hadn't liked something the visitors had said because he was now standing up before his throne, gesturing to his Jaffa. They leveled their weapons on the woman in front. The two men behind her stepped forward protectively and were each shot in the chest by the staff weapons. The woman cried out, reaching out her hands to the goa'uld as if pleading with him. She stepped closer and one of the Jaffa shot a warning blast into her left leg. She stumbled and fell to her knees.
The goa'uld abruptly turned away with a swish of his robes and began to walk toward the temple that lay not far to the east of the dais. Two Jaffa took guard behind him and followed. With a dismissive gesture over his shoulder, the remainder of the Jaffa set to breaking up the crowd and dealing with the visitors. The two men who had crumpled to the ground were dragged off, and the woman who still knelt before the empty throne was roughly brought up to her feet and led off after them. Every time she would stumble and fall the Jaffa would kick her before dragging her back up again to continue.
SG-1 still stood, dumbstruck, in front of the Stargate. As the villagers of the crowd began to slowly disperse and return to their homes and duties, a few happened to glance up at the Stargate. Upon seeing the strangers standing there, they began to point and shout. Alerted to SG-1's presence, the Jaffa began to run up the hill to intercept them.
"Nope, this can't be good." O'Neill muttered, readying his weapon.
"I concur, O'Neill." Teal'c replied, also preparing for battle.
"Uhh, you guys? Shouldn't we be running or something?" Jackson asked nervously, fingering his handgun.
Counting the Jaffa and noticing that they were outnumbered three to one, the Colonel nodded. "You know, Daniel? You're right. Let's move!" He broke left and ran for the tree line, the others following close behind.
The young woman was tossed unceremoniously onto a hard floor. Through the pain, she heard a metallic clank behind her, then the receding sound of boots. Slowly pushing herself up to a sitting position, she leaned back against the cold hard wall. Looking around, she realized she was in a cell of some sort, and the clanking she had heard had been the metal cage-like door closing and locking her in.
With her left leg stretched out before her, she slowly lifted up the hem of her dress to assess her injury. A charred and bleeding hole marred her left thigh. Underneath the remains of the legging came a rustling and she briefly saw a flash of green before looking up with a start. She barely had time to pull her dress back down to cover the wound when the sounds of boots she had heard arrived at the door to her cell along with the imposing Jaffa that had created them. He sneered at her wickedly as he unlocked the door and stepped in.