He heard the crying first, the uneasy wailing of a fretful baby.

"Dr. Beckett, the woman from that planet is here, she wants to speak with you." Sarah, his nurse looked over her shoulder and fidgeted with the empty syringe in her hand. The woman pushed into the office before he said a word.

She was jogging the baby slightly in her arms but the rhythm was erratic, unsettling. Her hands clutched the cloth tightly, Beckett shot her a questioning look, then reached out to take the infant. The woman continued to rock back and forth, her eyes fastened on Beckett who was smiling down at the small bundle.

"You will send her to the gods now?" she asked after a moment, her voice small. Beckett looked up startled and he turned a questioning eye on Sarah who shrugged, looking frustrated.

"You're safe, Samara. You're both safe." Sarah turned to Beckett as the woman grew more restive. "I've tried to tell her, Doctor . . ."

"You must send her to the gods. She will be safe there; she will blessed forever!" She grabbed Beckett's arm, her fingers biting into his flesh. Beckett put his hand over hers and smiled. The woman took a breath, and hesitantly offered him a small, flickering smile of her own and quieted a little.

"Your name is Samara, m'dear?" he asked her, his eyes steady on her face. She nodded once. "And the child, your daughter?"

"Telan," and after a moment, she continued, "after my mother."

Beckett smiled warmly. "Those are lovely names, Samara. And ye have a lovely daughter." He guided her over to where some chairs were loosely grouped. He nodded to Sarah and she moved on to her duties. "She'll be a beautiful little girl some day."

"No." Samara shifted in the chair. "If there was enough food, and the Wraith were no more, then she would have been a beautiful little girl. But there is no food, and the Wraith come, and come, and come."

"It doesna have to be this way," Beckett said, feeling the frustration burning in his chest. He looked back down at the baby, trying to remain calm. "If ye just will give us some time…"

"Can you promise me that she will be safe from the Wraith? That she will never know hunger?" she demanded.

Beckett couldn't meet her eyes and tucked the soft cloth of the wrap under the baby's chin. "No."

"You were never going to perform the ritual, were you?" She stared at him with accusing eyes."The woman said you were bringing us to the city of the gods. But there are no gods here. And I have spoken with your people. The Wraith come here as well."

Beckett started to explain, to argue, but the look on her face stopped him, the unspoken words bitter in his mouth. "I just wanted to save her life."

"She goes as a sacrifice to the gods, to beg their intervention for all the clan. What right do you have to steal that away from us, from the other children to whom this will mean life?"

Beckett looked down at the face of the child who had lain quiet all this time as he had rocked her. The fringes of dark curls were just visible around the edges of the woven cap she wore, and her eyes were large and dark staring up at him. Wordlessly, he handed the child to her and stood up, jamming his hands into his pockets so that the stitches strained against his knuckles.

"We will return ye to your homeworld," he said, his throat so tight he wasn't sure how he was getting the words out. He looked over at Sarah. "I'll be getting' some tea, Sarah," and he moved out the door way, finding his way blindly to the messhall for the second time in as many days.

"Dr. Beckett," Teyla broke into a jog and caught up with him. "The woman from the planet, and the child."

"Why, Teyla?" he interrupted, stopping in the middel of the hallway and turning to face her.

Teyla lowered her eyes and heaved a sigh. "To you and to me it is wrong, Dr. Beckett. But we must allow them to live their lives."

"But that's just it," he hissed. "It's not her life! It's her death! That wee girl hasn't a choice, has she."

"Of course she does. YOu know it as well as I." Teyla's voice was sad. "Her choice is death by starvation or death by the knife. Her mother has chosen to send her daughter home to the gods."

"There are no bluidy gods!" His voice was sharp and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"And how do you know that, Dr. Beckett?" Teyla's voice was also sharp and snapped with anger. Beckett looked up at her startled. "Who are you to decide that someone's beliefs are wrong because they are different from yours?"

"Ye can't tell me ye actually believe this tripe?"

Teyla shook her head. "It does not matter whether I do or not. But I DO respect their beliefs. And that is the difference.." Her eyes softened and she looked at him with pity. "I understand. My mother was a healer, and letting go of life to her always was wrong. But they believe it. That is what matters."

Beckett scrubbed at his face, feeling the familiar rasp of whiskers under his fingers and sighed. Then, touching his earpiece, he radioed Weir to tell her their guests would be returning home.

"You have a kind heart . . . Carson. You would save them all if you could. But you must fight the battles you can win. As must we all." Teyla's grasp was warm and firm on his arm.

Beckett looked up and stared with dry, burning eyes at the mother and child framed in the doorway of the infirmary. And he shuddered once. "But at what cost, girl? We lose so much in the fight."