The event horizon dissipated as SG-1 descended the well-kept stone steps.
O'Neill took note of the MALP sitting to one side, the DHD in the middle, and immediately spotted the tight cluster of colourfully-clothed people several paces behind it. "Stay sharp."
He titled his head in greeting as Jackson broke away and approached them.
While Daniel made his introductions, Jack took in his surroundings. The planet seemed pleasant enough; the faint aroma of fresh turned earth and wet leaves perfumed the breeze. They were in the centre of a large field full of gourds, bordered on all sides by mature, broad-leaf trees and bramble thickets.
"Seems safe enough." Carter stepped to his side, one hand resting casually on the butt of her P90.
"It's fall, Carter." He pinned her with a glare.
She tossed him a side-long glance. "Looks like late summer to me, sir."
"Oh, I think I know cider weather when I smell it, Major."
Carter ducked her head and followed as her CO approached Daniel and the locals.
The cheeriest looking among them beamed at the archaeologist. "...And you're in luck!"
"How so?" Jack's question was aimed at the local, but he kept his attention on his major.
"Well, you're just in time for our harvest festival!"
"Ah." O'Neill tugged at his own jacket collar, managed a curt grimace, then spun on his heel. "Daniel, dial 'er up!"
"...Jack?"
"Sir?!
"O'Neill…"
But, the Colonel was already on his way back to the gate. "We'll come back next week" – he turned and glared at his stunned team – "when their festival is well and truly over?" His eyes flashed to Carter. "Y'all know what happened last time we were invited to one of these things. I'm still not certain how we convinced General Hammond I got that bruise from the butt of a staff weapon and not the hickey we all know it was! Let's go!"
