Chapter 3 - Homecoming

Approaching Earth Orbit

Sheppard rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles and stared at the screen. There were hundreds of ships, saturating the space all over the blue-green marble of earth, like a swarm of bees crawling all over a fruit. It had been too long since he had visited his home, and this was not the sight he wanted to see of his planet - an invading armada starting to pierce the earth's atmosphere like a meteor shower, hell-bent on killing people and conquering his world.

Their ship followed in behind the others. The pilot did a passable job of keeping his place in the complicated formation Sheppard could see blinking on the HUD. There were so many ships, and the risk of running into each other's exhaust fumes was a real threat.

A massive wave of Al'Kesh descended to earth all over the snow-white grounds of Antarctica. Sheppard knew they were going after the only threats that weren't even that significant at first glance: the SG-1, earth's own battle cruiser, the Prometheus and a ragtag flotilla of Al'Kesh ships and death gliders from the rebel Jaffa factions.

They found SG-1 first.

The scanned data painted them on the tactical plot closer to their side of the formation, lumbering in slow motion in a cargo ship, of all things. The sensor data announced to them that the ship had seen better times, and had no cloak or any significant offensive capabilities. There was a shield, but it didn't look like it was going to last more than a couple of direct hits.

Orders came from the flag for their ship and another to break off and engage. Both ships veered off on the hunt as one while the rest continued to charge the Prometheus and the rebels. Poor broken cargo ship continued to hobble along, trying to outrun its hunters.

Sheppard took out his Zat and shot the Jaffa who was standing next to the pilot first. Before the giant's body finished folding onto the ground, he shot the one handling the guns. The pilot managed to stabilise the ship after losing a few hundred feet of altitude due to shock and Sheppard shot him before he could reach his own weapon. Then he calmly set the ship on autopilot and started the process of getting rid of the trash in his cockpit.

Dragging the three disarmed bodies to the back and locking them in a storage closet was hard work. They weighed about a ton each and Sheppard was in need of a new spine after the task. Finally done, he collapsed on the pilot seat and took control of the fight.

Then he used the codes he had been given by a certain Colonel all those years ago to hail the cargo ship that was still somehow staying ahead of their weapons range.

"Colonel O'Neill come in, this is Ruach," he called, praying the man was in the ship. Nothing happened. "Ruach to Colonel O'Neill, please respond."

"Who is this?" An angry female voice demanded. He was pretty sure it was Samantha Carter.

"Ah, Major–"

"Sheppard, is that you?" O'Neill's voice came through the comms then, sounding alarmed.

"Colonel, yeah," Sheppard said, relieved. "I'm in the Al'Kesh to your left. Don't shoot."

"No, no, I won't," the Colonel said. Then, a muffled, "Carter, don't shoot." was heard, presumably, he had turned around to stress the order to Carter.

"Sir, I'm going to close on your flank and switch on my cloak. I'll take care of the ships on your six."

"That would be wonderful, Sheppard," O'Neill said. "We're kind of fucked up. Anything we can do for you?"

"Ah, yeah," said Sheppard, eyeing the HUD. Prometheus had launched its own fighters. The tactical feed had the locations of the Anubis fleet, including the swarms of death gliders. But he had no hope of telling apart the F-302 fighters in the mess. "Is there a way you can patch me to your 302 wings? I don't want to get hit by any stray missiles. Even just the 'voice only' would do."

He didn't need to talk to any of them. But he did need to hear their plans and see their vectors.

"Sure," Carter joined in. "I can get you that."

"Thank you, Major."

"Okay, you're in," she came back in about thirty seconds. His comms exploded with the sounds of the fighters' internal chatter, calling shots and vectors. "You should have them on your plot now."

"I do, thank you. Good luck."

"You too, Major," she said before ending the transmission. Sheppard figured O'Neill must have revealed his name and rank to her. "Carter out."

He heard the first F-302 transmission on his comms the moment he activated his cloak. He ignored the angry buzzing from the other Al'Kesh to concentrate on what the fighters were planning.

"Target the Al'Kesh first. Gliders second. Go low, boys and girls. Prometheus has our backs."

It took a moment for Sheppard to unfreeze his fingers around the controls and level out his ship's flight from its embarrassing wobble. He knew that voice. He could recognize it anywhere. So this was where 'Shaft' ended up after they went their separate ways… He had always wondered, especially during those days when he felt like basking in some good old self-inflicted agony. But that had been before his…er, transition. For the past year, he barely had time to grab a shower most days.

"Break left. Two gliders at our three o'clock."

Another chimed in, and Sheppard wasted no time marking the lead fighter Cam was piloting on his plot. It was basically pointed towards his own ass, well, the other Al'Kesh, to be exact, the one that was still buzzing him angrily like a wasp.

Sheppard flipped his ship sideways, fired on the Al'Kesh and took it out as his first order of business of the day. The ship disappeared behind a fireball, forcing the wing of death gliders to swing around wide to avoid flying straight into the floating wreck.

"Whoever took that out, good work."

"Didn't look like it was one of us."

Fighters and death gliders engaged in earnest when the Prometheus took position over the cargo ship. Sheppard took out another death glider chasing an F-302 off course, towards a waiting Ha'tak.

"Contact. One bandit the deck and inbound." Cam's navigator called.

"Tally, one."

"Fox Two. Fox Two." The pilot managed to tag the glider and dropped into an evasive corkscrew, trying to shake another glider. "That was close."

Damn right, you idiot, Sheppard muttered under his breath and took out the persistent glider. Then his attention was called on to another Al'Kesh that was heading towards the cargo ship to investigate the suspicious silence and disappearance of his own ship.

During the few seconds it took for Sheppard to engage with the Al'Kesh, further chatter registered in his periphery; two more fighters had taken down three gliders, one had gone down and Mitchell's lead fighter had been hit.

"We've been hit. Left thruster is down."

Sheppard himself ran out of luck when a stray shot graced the belly of his own ship, taking out one of his staff cannons. His shields went down to half power and the cloak wobbled.

"Contact. Two bandits on our six." Cam's navigator tried his best not to panic.

Sheppard took out a glider, but he didn't have a clear shot at Cam's tail. The Blue Leader was having trouble avoiding the glider due to the damage to his fighter. When he was about to change his own heading, more chatter burst through the comms.

"Blue Leader, we've got your six."

The newly joined F-302 took care of the bandits. Sheppard sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening and maintained his position.

"Nice shot, Red." Cam's relief was short-lived because, the next moment, his wingman exploded in the air.

"He's been hit!"

"Redmond!" Cam yelled.

"He's gone." The navigator said. Then, more urgently, "We've lost a turbine."

"Head's up, Blue Leader, Ruach, This is Carter. We have another wing of bandits, incoming."

"I see it, Major."

"So do I," Sheppard muttered, lining up his shots. He knew Cam always went left first. So he marked out targets to the right.

"Who the hell is Ruach?"

"Fox Two." Cam, as predicted, tagged a glider and an Al'Kesh with his shot. Sheppard let loose his weapons and took the front line of the gliders that had veered to avoid Cam's fire. "Splash, one Al'Kesh"

"Hot damn! That's a rogue Al'Kesh, firing on their own–"

"Not one of Bra'tac's–"

Cam's navigator's exclamation clued Sheppard into the fact that his cloak had dropped again during the firing. The damage he had taken earlier was culminating into something worse steadily, letting him know that he was going to be discovered soon. Anubis' fleet already knew he was a traitor to them. It was just a matter of time before they started to hunt him in earnest.

"That's not playing fair, fella," Cam griped on the open comms, not knowing he was mock-complaining to Sheppard. "Also, thanks."

"Got your back, Cam, always," Sheppard said softly to himself, remembering the same promise made over and over, some long years ago.

"That was close, Thank you, gents." Carter sounded relieved.

The small victory was short-lived when the gliders that were still on air dived and swarmed in on them in one last desperate attack to see them go down. The cargo ship's safety was the mission. Sheppard gritted his teeth and moved his Al'Kesh over and above the ship to its vanguard. He fired until there was nothing to fire, taking the beating onto his own shields with the cargo ship tucked behind his back.

The F-302 wing did the same, flying around the cargo ship to engage the gliders.

The fight didn't even last ten seconds. The gliders vanished in fireballs, smoke and falling embers. So did most of the fighters.

Sheppard's Al'Kesh came into view as his shields failed. Amongst Carter's urgent call to all Earth vessels not to fire on him, he heard something that made his blood run cold for the first time in the past two hours.

"Bandit…on our six…" Cam's navigator was now definitely panicked.

"I can't shake him. Reroute power to the…"

"Weapons fire," Navigator screamed.

Sheppard watched helplessly as a desperate hunt and dodge unfolded on his HUD, unable to intervene. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere near Cam on time, and he had nothing left to fire, his cannons already out of commission for good after that last deadly dogfight.

"Shit." Cam cursed. He got his bandit but was not quick enough to avoid getting grazed himself. His fighter rolled and started venting black smoke. "Banks, you okay? Banks!"

"Pull up… pull up… pull up!" Sheppard chanted, urging the fighter to correct its downward spiral. Unfortunately, the damage it had taken was too much. The fighter wasn't going anywhere but down.

"Eject! Eject!" Cam called. Nothing happened. "Damn it, ejection failed. Mayday! Mayday! We are going in. Repeat. We are going in."

The F-302 continued its journey to where no fighter should ever be heading. Sheppard yanked on his controls and pointed his nose towards the crashing ship. The Jaffa were too engaged in their own fights to pay him any attention just yet. He was useless now with his weapons dried up and barely-there shield. Besides, the Prometheus was hovering over the cargo ship, protecting the final bit of her flight to her destination.

Sheppard, on the other hand, had a working set of rings. There was still a lot he could do before he needed to make urgent plans to disappear from the battlefield.

"Major, please inform the fleet I'm on SAR. Ruach out." He snapped to his comms and signed out without waiting for the Major to acknowledge. He knew she would keep his ass safe from friendly fire.

He was already in pursuit of the damaged craft that was leaving a blazing trail of smoke and fire against the snow-covered land when he heard Carter's hopeful voice over his comms.

"Godspeed, Major."

AN: The word, "Ruach," in this context, means, "Ghost/Spirit." The reason will become clear at the end of the story.