"General Hammond...General Hammond, Sir!"

General George Hammond stopped midstride as he heard someone calling his name. Footsteps rapidly approached from behind. Turning around, he smiled as he saw who approached. It was the young woman who had been hovering at Jacob's bedside when George had first arrived at the hospital.

"Yes, um, Miss, the General said politely as the young woman rushed up to him, concerned written plainly on her face.

"General, I know you must be very busy. But, may I please have a quick word?" the young woman asked him earnestly.

Hammond's heart sank. Oh no, not more bad news, he worried, wondering what could possibly be worse than what Jacob had just told him.

"Well, if it is about Jacob Carter, you can have more than a quick word, Ma'am," Hammond told her with a faint smile. One of his oldest friends was dying, and George was just glad to know that someone was here and was personally looking after him.

All dying old men should be so lucky; Hammond could not help thinking as he gazed at the attractive young woman in front of him.

I should not have let Sam go on that damned mission; George berated himself for the millionth time as the young woman motioned him off in to a side room. The room was completely empty except for a cot, and a chair. The girl closed the door firmly behind them, and then pulled the chair around so that it faced the empty cot. She motioned him to the chair while she perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. He thought of getting up and offering her the chair, but her urgency decided him against it.

"General Hammond, Sir," she began somewhat uncertainly. "I hope you won't think I'm trying to pry. However..." The girl wrung her hands for a moment, and then she burst out. "You must get Jacob's daughter back here, and as soon as possible."

The General cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably.

"Well, I am afraid that is easier said than done, Ma'am. Jacob's daughter-"

I know exactly what he has told you," she interrupted him. "He has told you not to call her, in no uncertain terms, right?"

Hammond nodded, and suppressed a smile.

\"Well, just ignore that," she told him flatly. "You just ignore whatever he told you to do. I don't mean to sound cold, Sir but-"She broke off yet again.

Hammond was deeply touched to see two tears welling up in the young woman's blue eyes. She angrily shoved them with the heel of her hand, her eyes never leaving Hammond's face.

"He doesn't have very long at all, Sir. You know that by now, and Samantha … I mean, his daughter ...she needs to be here. Not just for his Sake, but for her peace of mind as well. So, you just ignore whatever that stubborn old man in there says; it is just his pride talking, and not his Father's heart. Samantha is the one who will have to live with this for the rest of her life, not getting to say a proper Goodbye to her Father..."

She trailed off, and then said in a near whisper, "I know what that is like for a daughter, General Hammond. My own Father died in the war, and I had no hope of saying Goodbye to him. It is still something that troubles me, even after all these years. So, please, Sir, if you can do anything at all, please?"

Observing her, the first thing George Hammond wondered was in what war might this young woman's Father have died? She looked so young, not much older than Captain Carter did. Her obvious concern for Jacob and his family made her look even younger and more vulnerable. This did not leave too many choices of wars Hammond could think of. But, of course, he did not ask. He decided to let her in on a little secret, instead. Well,

Hammond made a decision.

Leaning forward, Hammond glanced at the nametag on her plain smock. "Mother Mary, I..."

He cleared his throat, and then he took another close look at the tag, thinking that he had read it incorrectly.

"Mother?" he asked.

The girl gave a slight shrug.

"That is just what everyone around here calls me, General. But, if that is too uncomfortable for you, please just call me Mary."

The General offered his hand, and she took it.

"Alright then, Mary, and please let's drop the formal military General stuff. Just call me George. Now, please do not mention it to Jacob, but I am trying to arrange for Sam, his daughter, to be here. I can't promise anything, given her current circumstances, you understand."

Relief flooded Mary's face, and for an uncomfortable moment, George Hammond was absolutely convinced that she would jump up and hug him. It did not happen, though. She simply squeezed his hand before releasing it.

She smiled up at him.

I bet that smile has seen quite a few old soldiers off in to the Great Beyond, Hammond mused.

"Well, I apologize for wasting your time then, Gen, I mean, George, she said, rising to her feet. "But...you don't know how hard it has been for me. Just trying to convince Jacob to call anyone at all has been a full-time effort."

"Stubborn old fool that he is.," she added in an undertone.

"Oh, I think I can guess," Hammond replied, also standing up. "I've known Jacob for a few decades, Mary. Do you mind if I ask how long you have known him?"

"Um," the young woman seemed to consider for a moment. "I have known Jacob for just under a week. I was asked to come and sit wit him shortly after he was admitted here."

"Well, you're a good and quick judge of character then, Miss Mary," Hammond told her as she ushered him towards the door. "Thank you for taking care of Jacob."

The young woman smiled again, but it was a very sad little smile.

"No one should die alone, George. The Doctors are actually taking care of him. I am just, um, well, just a bit of distraction, and moral support, that is all."

Hammond felt the young woman was being far too modest in underestimating her true role at the end of these men's lives, but he did not argue the point. Looking in to Mary's eyes, he was struck with a sudden odd notion that those eyes held not just years of sadness, but perhaps centuries worth…centuries or more…

Putting the strange notion out of his mind, he handed the woman a small business card with a private number written on it.

"Will you please call me, if you can, when—"

He broke off, but Mary nodded to him in a knowing manner, and carefully tucked his card away in a pocket of her volunteer's smock.

"Of course I will, George."

After the older man had left the room, Mary closed the door, and leaned heavily against the wall.

"We have to do something," she said silently, and the other presence that lived in her mind and her body answered, sounding weary but not unkind.

"We are doing all that is possible. You know we have no child to offer him, Mary," the Goa'uld Symbiot known as Isis told her host gently. "And, it is inadvisable to keep using the Healing device too—"

"I know that!" Mary responded to her Symbiot, sounding a bit harsher then she had intended. "I just want him to be able to part with his daughter peacefully, that's all," she finished more softly.

"On this I do not disagree."

Isis sighed, relenting just a bit.

"I suppose that it will do no harm to keep this up for a while longer...but not indefinitely. I cannot agree to risk our exposure for a dying man, particularly one who is useless to us."

Mary had long ago stopped wincing at Isis's sometimes very blunt announcements. Her Symbiot was, generally, more tolerant and forgiving of women than she had ever seemed to be of any men, and Mary was used to this. It did not mean she liked it, though.

"If he were a woman or Osiris' host, you wouldn't think him so useless," she complained.

"Probably not," the Symbiot agreed mildly. 'But, he does not host Osiris. Osiris would make a very interesting addition to his personality.

"I do regret not having any current contact with the Tok'ra, if by some miracle they yet live," Isis admitted. "Given their desperate need for hosts, I'm sure Jacob carter would be good enough for them."

Mary knew when to quit while she was ahead. She straightened her smock and headed back towards Jacob Carter's room.