** 21 **

A crushing weight sat above his head. They were right back where they started, finding their way through the bunker corridors in the dark. This time though the floors above were nothing but rubble, only the concrete ceiling holding it at bay; but it wouldn't last. Dust and small pieces constantly fell from cracks and fissures, working its way into their armour and making them squirm. Stokes had sent drones into the bunker, seeking out safe routes to storage rooms to bring out what they could. He lost two drones as the place caved in, the constant shifting making other sections less secure. But if they wanted to survive a bit longer they had no choice, they had to go in.

Their target was a storage room at the end of the corridor, they would need the equipment and supplies it held once they got to London. Stokes kept waiting for the roof to fall, for husks to appear in the dark, for something to go wrong. As they climbed over debris or pushed things out of their path the sound echoed in both directions and more than once someone had spun with their weapon raised. Behind him Zahedi sighed into the dark.

'This place gives me the creeps,' Stokes said, breaking the heavy silence.

'I would agree with that description,' Zahedi chuckled.

'Don't like the dark, Stokes?' Reigler said from somewhere up ahead, the dim light of his flashlight casting shadows.

'Not this dark, it's not natural.'

Muttered agreements from the rest of the team made him feel a little better. At least he wasn't the only one feeling it. Experienced marines carefully crawling through the complex should give him some assurance but it didn't. If the worst happened they were in close quarters and that's when things tended to go fubar.

'You could have stayed outside,' Walker reminded him.

'And trust you to get the parts I need,' he grinned even though no-one could see it, 'you'd probably pick up the coffee maker.'

'Wise ass.'

'He's right, Walker,' Davis agreed with a laugh. 'You can't even handle an omnitool without fucking it up.'

'I know where to put a bullet though, right up your ass.'

'Didn't know you liked me that way.'

Laughter rolled down the corridor as Walker grumbled something under his breath. They might still be in the dark, there might still be threats ahead but the weight and darkness seemed lighter. A few minutes passed before they finally stepped into the storage room.

Most of the supplies had been catalogued as they were stored but Stokes knew a few pieces of tech had made it down here on the day of the attack. They wouldn't have been recorded and while one of his techs was qualified to find them Stokes knew exactly what he'd packed into the crates he'd sent to storage. Otherwise he would have happily remained in the hangar with Anderson.

'Let's make this quick people,' Reigler moved towards a stack of crates. 'Find what we need and get out.'

Davis unfolded the medical stretchers they'd brought to carry the load, the small lifters humming in the dark as they activated, someone else set up a portable light. Stokes and Zahedi opened the crates by the door and found the parts on Stokes list. Unfortunately they couldn't take everything so he emptied one crate and refilled it with what he believed would be useful. With Zahedi's help he hoisted it onto the nearest stretcher.

The ground shook and a deep rumble had them all reaching for weapons before realising their mistake. There were a few muted snickers as Reigler stepped out into the corridor.

'That sounds close,' he shone his light along their route. 'Still clear but we need to leave.'

The thought of being buried under tonnes of concrete and metal didn't appeal to anyone so they finished loading what they had and hurried out of the room. The stretchers slowed their progress and Stokes fought down the urge to run. His heartbeat quickened and his palm felt slippery against his rifle as he took short, shallow breaths.

'It will be good to get to London,' Zahedi moved beside him and Stokes almost jumped. 'I am looking forward to the battle.'

'You're a strange man, Zahedi,' Stokes' breathing slowed. 'But I'm glad you're here.'

'I am exactly where - .'

'You need to be,' Stokes chuckled and relaxed.

'That is true.'

Behind them something crashed down, making the floor shake badly enough for them to stumble. They choked on dust and debris as it rolled past them. Zahedi turned and his light showed only a blocked corridor where part of the ceiling had collapsed.

'Move.' Reigler waved Davis and Walker past him and they picked up the pace.

Being on lifters instead of wheels the stretchers made it easier to negotiate the dark path to the surface. That didn't mean they couldn't be tipped though. One of the marines guiding the second stretcher tripped over something and its load slid sideways as the stretcher tilted. The crates hit the ground and one burst open, scattering ration bars across the floor.

'Fuck.' Stokes, Zahedi and two other marines were stuck behind them with their stretcher.

Rushing to pick up the crates and the ration bars they got in each other's way. It became mad scramble to gather up what they could. Somewhere off to their left another rumble produced more shaking.

'Forget it,' Reigler ordered. 'Get out with what we have.'

The ration bars disintegrated under foot as they set of at a slow trot. They had to risk moving faster. Dust clogged their noses and throats dried up as they breathed through open mouths. Most were coughing by the time they stepped into the open area of the hangar bay. But they didn't stop until they were alongside the shuttles close to the exit.

The hangar sat under a mound of dirt and grass, there were no floors above it which meant that it probably wouldn't collapse. Everyone hoped so because they planned to shelter in the hangar until dawn before setting out for London. They were ready to leave if they had to though, with every shuttle pointing outside and very little unpacked.

Stokes helped load the supplies into a shuttle before making his way to where a temporary food table had been set up. Zahedi handed him water and ration bars and he dropped to the floor against the hangar wall.

'Let's not do that again in a hurry.' He gulped down the water before biting into the bar.

'I do not think we can get back in,' Zahedi indicated the corridors that still spewed out dust as distant rumbling seemed to roll on around them.

'Maybe that's just as well.' He dropped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he chewed the flavourless bar.

What would Tracy be having for dinner? By now she would have already set up the QEC, made sure all the tech worked and probably made sure Sam and Buckner were looked after. With a full kitchen, stocked pantry and home cooking it would probably be a lot more wholesome than ration bars. What he wouldn't give to be eating it with her.

She'd only been gone for hours but it felt like a lifetime. He never thought he could miss someone so desperately, so much that simply thinking about her made his eyes burn with unshod tears. Or maybe that was just the dust. Damn if it wasn't in everything.

'Stokes, Zahedi,' Reigler walked towards them, 'thanks to some kind of miracle the bathroom attached to the hangar is functional if you want to use it, water's cold but clean. Might be the last chance you get for a while to clean off.'

Stokes sighed and rolled his head to look at Zahedi, 'get clean to put dirty clothes back on. Is it really worth it?'

'I would not like to upset you by mentioning the smell,' Zahedi grinned at him.

'Thanks.'

Reigler laughed, 'how you can smell him over every other unwashed body in the place is beyond me.'

'It is a punishment I must bear that my nose is acutely aware of odours.' He sat forward, sniffed, scrunched up his nose and shrugged. 'Mr Stokes is not the only one in need of bathing.'

'I always thought you were a wise man Zahedi,' Reigler shifted his grip on his rifle and raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

'Alas I cannot claim to be wise, only observant,' he stood up and Stokes took his offered hand as he got to his feet, 'and I see that it is time for me to take up the offer of a shower. I am not afraid to admit to my own stench.'

'There is a crate of clean uniforms by the shuttle,' Reigler indicated over his shoulder. 'You might find something to fit.'

A crate of towels and toiletries sat inside the bathroom door and another for dirty items sat outside. The everyday, mundane tasks had never seemed important before but as he looked at the pile of dirty towels and uniforms Stokes realised someone would wash them as soon as they had the chance and the facility. Nothing was disposable now, items couldn't be recycled, everything had to be re-used to its last thread. He could no longer take it for granted that a new uniform, undersuit or replacement armour would be available. Hell, who knew when they'd have showers again.

With that in mind he dropped his undersuit to the floor as he stripped out of it, letting the soapy water run over it as he washed. He shivered as the cold water hit him, it made for short showers but at least he felt clean. He missed the bunker simply because it had given them some sense of normality. Showers, toilets, kitchens and comfortable beds. As a marine he had been trained to make do, to use what he had. Didn't mean he had to like it.

Dressed, dry and more alert he hung his undersuit over the exhaust pod of a shuttle, using the residual heat to dry his suit, and settled on the floor to clean his armour and weapons. The compact, basic cleaning kit all marines carried in a pocket somewhere wouldn't last forever but for now it would have to do. Zahedi joined him and they sat quietly working on their gear until Anderson wandered over, taking a seat in the open hatch of the shuttle.

'Stokes, did you get what you needed?'

'Yes, sir,' he nodded and placed his chest plate aside to look at the admiral. 'It's mostly back up stuff, power packs, replacement storage, some circuit boards, things like that.'

'Good.'

'Admiral,' Reigler stopped before Anderson and held out a bottle of water and two ration bars. 'Dr Wainwright told me I am to give these to you and not leave until you've finished.'

Anderson groaned but accepted the food and drink. 'He's a stubborn man and I'd hate to get you in trouble.' He opened a bar and looked at it before taking a bite. 'Someone needs to come up with better flavours for these things.' He grimaced as he swallowed.

'I'll get right on that, sir.' Reigler grinned.

'Go take a shower, Reigler,' Anderson waved him away, 'I'm sure Stokes and Zahedi will make sure I eat.'

'Every last crumb,' Stokes said as he pulled his pistol apart and Anderson scowled at him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Anderson eating as ordered while Stokes and Zahedi continued their cleaning.

'What do you think our odds are?'

Anderson's question came out of the blue and Stokes stilled as he thought about it.

'Getting better every day.'

'How do you figure that?'

'Because we're still alive.' He snapped his pistol back together, checked the sights and looked up at the admiral. 'Every day is a bonus and puts the odds more in our favour.'

'I would say that we have a better chance now than when this started.' Zahedi leant back against the shuttle, his cleaning finished. 'We have a better idea of how the enemy thinks and fights. This is a good thing that works in our favour.'

'I guess I know where to come for a pep talk,' Anderson chuckled and screwed up the wrappers from his ration bars.

'Any time, sir, always happy to help.' Stokes leant back alongside Zahedi.

'Make sure you two, Reigler, Fields and Dr Wainwright are on my shuttle when we leave. We need to discuss our integration with Coats and his teams in London.'

'How is that going to work?'

'You're my command team, that won't change but I'll need you to work with Coat's command team to bring our methods into line.'

'We will be the outsiders,' Zahedi said and Anderson nodded.

'I think we've had it a little easier than they have, we managed to get out of the city. They've been fighting in close quarters, we can learn from that.'

'We'll make it work.' Stokes assured him. 'Do you think any of the teams from other parts of the world have made it to London?'

'I hope so, we need the numbers to have any hope of winning.'

'Can we, sir,' Stokes looked up at Anderson, 'win?'

'I'm going to give it my best shot.' He stood up and stretched. 'Make sure everything is stowed away so we're ready to leave at first light. Get some sleep, might be the last you get for a while.'

Gathering up his gear Stokes climbed into the shuttle and pulled out a thermal blanket. Making sure to leave the emergency self-inflating mattresses and the remaining thermal blankets accessible he wrapped himself up and settled across three seats in the shuttle. Zahedi did the same on the other side. It didn't take long before his eyes closed, his last thoughts of blue eyes, plump, kissable lips and laughter that made the sun shine on a rainy day.

Several hours later he woke to gentle shaking. 'Hey gorgeous.' His sleep-addled mind still caught in the dream of creamy, soft skin and feather light kisses.

'Good morning to you too beautiful.' Reigler laughed and Stokes jerked awake. 'It's time.'

'I'm up.'

He jumped as his feet hit the cold deck of the shuttle, icy even through his socks. Rubbing his face to wipe away sleep he stood and quickly dressed. Thankfully his undersuit had dried, he shivered as the cold fabric touched his skin but it warmed up once he strapped his armour in place. Following Zahedi he grabbed a quick breakfast of ration bars and water before Anderson ordered them to move out.

First light broke the horizon as they left the bunker. Eighteen shuttles, spread out in a line to either side of Anderson's scanning the land ahead, each carrying well over their twelve man capacity. It made for a cramped trip and Stokes found himself squashed between Reigler and Zahedi, armoured shoulders touching and knocking against each other. A sombre silence filled the shuttle, it sat heavily around them as they left familiar territory behind and headed into the unknown. What came next had everyone deep in thought. Everything had to go to plan or they could all be dead within the next few hours.

Their shuttle remained cloaked, they couldn't afford to lose Anderson to a stray Reaper shot, Their plan to fly out of atmosphere and drop down into London had been thwarted when Reapers had gathered in the space above, Reigler and the pilot only making it back because they couldn't be seen. The thought that the Reapers knew where they were and what they planned was worrying but no troops or ships appeared in their path.

As they skimmed the planet surface Stokes couldn't help but think how lucky he was to be in this particular shuttle. Everything in his life had led to this point and if death came for him today his one true regret would be that he wouldn't have the future he imagined for him and Tracy. His dream of marriage, maybe kids and a dog, slipped further away the closer they got to London. But he would damn well fight for it, to his last dying breath.

Anderson broke the silence. 'All right people, when we get to London we need to work fast. Our integration with Major Coat's people has to go smooth and quick. We have to find an FOB, we have to find out what the Reapers are up to and I'm sure Coats and his men would appreciate a break, they've been in the thick of things for a while now. Don't disrespect that.'

Mumbled agreement rolled around them. They all knew they'd had it reasonable easy so far.

'We will have troops and people coming in from all over the globe if we're lucky, all of them uncertain and unsure, we need to make sure they know the chain of command and Coats is part of that now. Work with his officers, use their knowledge and experience but don't let it diminish your skills. We've done our share of fighting to and we could know things they don't.

'Fields, you're our civilian liaison. I don't know how many civilians Coats has with him in support so I trust you to find out. Dr Wainwright, I know Coats mainly has field medics with a couple of civilian doctors. We need a field hospital and somewhere back from the front lines for our wounded. I will give you scouts to find what you need.' Wainwright and Fields nodded and Anderson turned to his soldiers.

'Reigler, you're my second, talk to Coats, take some of his best and put them to work in places only they should go. I need recon, eyes on the ground and troops in safe forward positions. Any questions?'

Reigler shook his head and Stokes wondered if he was as calm on the inside as he looked on the outside. Being N7 meant he was good at his job and Stokes knew that from experience.

'Stokes, you're my tech officer. I know they have a QEC but I need to guarantee communications, ground scans and current situation information. You know your job and I trust you to do it. I also want you to work with Dawson.' He indicated an older man standing against the bulkhead. 'He reminded me that we have a communication network outside of official channels. Talk to him about using ham radio.'

Stokes raised his eyebrows and stared at Dawson who nodded. Stokes was unfamiliar with the topic and his it aroused his curiosity. Something new for him learn and he had always been open to that.

'Zahedi, you're my morale officer. You have a knack for people, use that, bolster hope, make the troops feel like they have something to fight for. Don't hesitate if you think someone needs to be removed from active duty, find them another task so they still feel useful. I'd rather that than have them get others killed. I would also like you to work with any other biotic soldiers that you find, we need them to help protect rear positions just as much as we need them on the front lines.'

He glanced around the shuttle, making eye contact with all of them in turn. 'All that being said, when the final battle comes I will be proud to stand by your side because when it comes down to it we're all soldiers fighting to protect our home. Not all of us wear uniforms but we all want the same, for this war to be over, to come out the other side victorious. Together I believe we can achieve that.'

The weight that had pushed shoulders into a slump, forced eyes downward and forced positivity out vanished in an instant. Heads lifted, eyes brightened and shoulders squared. They had a plan, a purpose and a goal. They had a leader that stood by them just as they would stand by him. But they had something much more important. They had hope.