Colonel John Sheppard wakes up on an alien world in the wreckage of a Puddle Jumper - and can't remember how he got there. Putting the pieces together, he discovers his team is scattered across a tropical archipelago, unable to communicate with each other or return to the Stargate. Prisoners of the local population, Sheppard and Teyla are taken as tribute to the planet's Wraith overlord, while McKay, Ronon, and Zelenka mount a rescue...
“SOMETHING’S NOT right about this.”
“I share your sense of unease,” Teyla said. John had spoken the words that were behind the creeping sense of wrongness she felt. “I have seen other worlds with as much, but they were in fear of the Wraith. They had precautions, plans. These people do not even seem to know what we mean. Why have the Wraith not come?”
John shook his head.
Teyla picked up a piece of fruit and continued. “There are, for better or worse, three responses to the Wraith. To hide, as the Genii do, and hope that the Wraith will not discover the extent of one’s civilization. To defy them and fight, as the Satedans did. Or to disperse and give them no targets, as my people did. All of the peoples of this galaxy that I have met do one or another of these. These people…” Her voice trailed off as the barge came upon another large stone wharf, passing a barge that lay tied up beside it, cattle being loaded aboard. “These people are a puzzle.”
“Something’s rotten,” John said. “I don’t like it.” He took the radio from his pocket. The light flashed standby.
“You will try to call them again?”
He shook his head. “The battery is low. And we’ll hear them when they call us in range.”
“Surely by now they are looking…”