Legacy 1 - Homecoming by Jo Graham; Melissa Scott

Author:Jo Graham; Melissa Scott [Scott, Jo Graham; Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Tricti had to be on the far end of the ‘build far away’ spectrum, though: not only was the settlement

a good hour’s hike from the gate, it wasn’t even a permanent village, just a trading post. Visitors weren’t

welcome in their real home, and any inquiries were none too subtly discouraged…

To either side of the trail, high grass stretched to a line of trees. They were just about a bowshot away,

and Sheppard’s shoulderblades twitched at the thought. The Tricti were friendly, or they had1 been, but

there was something weird about the whole thing. Too many weeds, he realized suddenly, there were too

many weeds growing in the path.

“Yes,” Teyla said. “I see it, too. But I do not sense the Wraith.”

“If there was a Culling,” Sheppard began, and Teyla shrugged.

“We would not know it. Not yet, and perhaps never. The Tricti do not share their troubles.”

“What?” Rodney asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nobody’s been using the path,” Ronon said. He had his blaster drawn, held it loosely at his side. “Not

good.”

Rodney glanced at the scanner in his hand, and then at the woods to either side. “There’s no sign of life,

but that’s normal here. They never show up except when we get to the village.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard said, and hoped it was true. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

“Let’s get a move on, people.”

“But gently,” Teyla said. She smiled. “The Tricti often misinterpret hurry.”

They finally reached the top of the last low hill, stopped for a moment to be sure the Tricti had seen

them—as Teyla said, they did not wish to be a surprise. Sheppard looked down into the circle of rough

wooden buildings, all too aware that there was no smoke rising from any of the chimneys. Not that it was

a cold day, but there should be cooking fires, and a crowd waiting at the well that stood in the center of

the circle, summoned by the opening of the Stargate. Today the beaten dirt was empty, the houses

shuttered, doorways gaping empty on darkness.

“It looks abandoned,” Teyla said, frowning.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Rodney said. “Why would they do that?”

“The Wraith?” Ronon said, but he didn’t sound sure.

“Trictinia has been Culled many times,” Teyla said. “The trade village has always remained.”

Sheppard sighed. He didn’t like the look of this, didn’t like the feeling the empty square left in the pit of

his stomach. “Let’s check it out.”

“Wait!” Rodney held out the scanner. “Look, there is someone—”

“Arin!” Teyla called, in the same moment, and Sheppard sighed again as a familiar figure stepped out

of the shadow of the nearest house. “Arin, it is good to see you again.” She went down the hill at a near

run, the others following more slowly, and the Tricti came to meet her, worn face relaxing into a smile.

“Teyla Emmagan. We did not dream—when the gate lit, we had no idea it could be you.”

They embraced formally, touching foreheads, and then in friendship, Teyla’s face for once unguarded.

“Arin, you remember Colonel Sheppard and Ronon. And Dr. McKay.”

“We had heard that Atlantis was destroyed,” the Tricti said.

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