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Putting Rap in charge of designing uniform was always going to achieve some interesting results; the skinny little raptor simply adored clothes and accessories, unlike his grumpy boyfriend who shunned them completely and strutted around proudly naked, with nowt but a toothy snarl if anyone dared think of challenging him. Rap was not particularly fussy about his wardrobe neither, he was just as happy in a pink sparkly dress as he was in a pair of utility shorts. Being the hippy dippy sort, Rap had no issues with bright colours, tie-die tunics and jewellery made of pretty beads. He'd paint his talons funky shades too. If he hadn't been so adamant about being referred to as 'he', then Anar could well be convinced he'd got a lady as a best friend. It didn't help matters when you took into consideration dinosaurs didn't have mammalian genitalia, so it wasn't as simple as sneaking a peek at the urinal. He had to take Rap's word on the matter of his gender and had come to the conclusion years ago that it didn't really matter anyway. If Rap was happy, everyone was happy.

Right now, the energetic green prehistoric reptile was scribbling with colourful markers on the whiteboard trying to convince his pals that shoulder-pads could make a revival and their army should break the mould by being absurdly colourful.

"No, Rap," Anar rubbed his temples patiently, "I understand what you're saying and yes, armies traditionally are rather drab and boring but it's for a good reason - camouflage. Makes it harder to get shot if you're not dressed as a flamenco dancer. I'm happy to sign off on spiked elbow pads, but draw the line at leopard print trousers!"

"All I'm saying, mate, is we can do it different! It's our thing, yeah? The funny blighters running around here don't know that soldiers are supposed to be in green and browns...."

He shook his head, "green and brown is fine for every-day, it's simple and easy. I say we keep it basic, but we'll get fancier with parade dress and officers' uniforms. I'm going to have a really fancy jacket, being General and all. I want the shoulder epaulettes with shiny stars and a big red satin stripe running round it. Blue silk lining too. Destroyer was telling me my ancestor wore blue once he gained his magical powers."

The Dragon, who was sat with his chin resting on steepled claws, silently watching the ongoing discussion, nodded his head in agreement.

"So... if you get to be the General and everything, and have a poncy dress coat, do I get to choose what I am?" Rave asked quickly, "I want to be a Major. With the stick you promised me," he added.

"You can be a Corporal and you'll like it," Anar scoffed.

"Ooh! Am I a Corporal too?"

"No, Rap, you didn't try to eat me once so you can be a Lieutenant. It suits you."

Rave mumbled darkly.

"I'll let you have the new recruits, okay? You can shout to your heart's content and whip them into shape."

Rave brightened, "yeah, now we're talking!"

"So... officer's uniforms, they all have the red stripe and blue lining?" Rap cleared the board of the hideously bright, spiky shoulder-padded nonsense he'd been doodling and stood, poised with marker pen in hand.

"No," Anar frowned, "that's just for me. I get the fanciest uniform. It'll be black too, because that's the best colour. I learned that from Hell!"

"I'm thinking pale linen suits like Miami Vice," Rap squeaked excitedly, resuming his mad scribbling at the board. "Lots of pockets! High collars. Big Kaos Army patch on the chest."

"Great. Yeah. Sure." As long as Anar got what he wanted, he wasn't much bothered about anyone else.

He'd always fancied himself as a model back in his youth. He wasn't sure what had started it off but one day he'd made the decision he was going to be in magazines wearing United Colours of Benetton clothes and be famous for it. Much like every boy wanted to be a policeman or firefighter and every little girl wanted to be a nurse or a ballerina, he wanted to get paid for being dressed in outrageously expensive attire while photographers snapped photos and asked him to pose.

A small part of him had never completely abandoned this crazy aspiration, and the thought of being clothed in a standard army uniform like everyone else, that didn't stand out in any way, or look particularly interesting, revolted him. It had been the same back in Hell with its ridiculous clothing rules that ran pages long in an employee handbook. No-one would be unique. Everyone must conform. Yuck! Rap was right: they were going to do things differently and that meant they could be slightly more flexible. Mind you, going by what Rap was currently colouring in they were going to be an eighties rock band...

"You know Hugo Boss designed the German Nazi uniforms back on our Earth, right?" Rave mentioned a little too casually.

"Actually yes, I did."

"They won't have had that whole third Reich business here on this world..." he continued.

Anar gave him some serious side-eye. "What are you getting at?" he asked snippily, not trusting the brute as far as he could throw him.

"Can we use their salute and the whole high-kick marching thing-"

"Don't you bloody dare!"

Rave was insistent, "but they won't know what it means! It'll be really funny!"

"I'll know what it means. You can take a hike!"

Even Rap gave him a frown, so he folded his big arms, sulkily. "Can't have any fun. Rap gets to design clothes, you get to boss everyone around and all I get is a stick..."

"We'll make it a fancy stick! Okay? Nice and solid - a proper bludgeoning instrument. Just leave the right-wing fascists back at home, yeah?"

"Yeah, I suppose," he shifted in his chair. "Where are we getting our recruits from, anyway?"

That was a good question.

Luckily it was one The Dragon had an answer for, "there is a native race on this planet know as orcs; they're not the sharpest tools in the shed but there are plenty of them and they seem to like fighting. A lot. Currently they are all busy warring with each other but, if we could somehow unite them under one leader..." he lowered his hands and gave Anar that familiar smile, "well that would be simply marvellous."

This seemed to cheer Rave right up, "brilliant, Big Ears is going to knock on their door and ask if they wanna join us. Can't wait for them to say 'sod off'!" he turned on the aardvark with a gleam in his beady eyes, "they'll swing an axe at you soon as look at you. I know I would."

Anar paled and fussed with his hair nervously, "thanks mate, I can always rely on you to celebrate my hardships."

"In fact, I've arranged for you to have a formal meeting with the Nest Chiefs tomorrow," The Dragon added.

Anar nearly had a stroke, "tomorrow?" he cried, "I'm not ready to have formal chats with alien chiefs tomorrow! What am I going to tell them? That we've got a half-built military base with half-baked senior staff?"

The Dragon's expression didn't change at all, "they'll be falling over themselves to sign up. I promise you, one demonstration of the weapons we have, and those orcs will gladly come in and finish building our base for us." He wagged a scaly finger, "we're going to be our very own workforce..."

Anar was still not having it; "I wouldn't know an orc if it sold me an extended car warranty. What if I say something to upset them and they try to eat me?"

Rave was tapping his claws on the thickly carpeted floor with glee, "better and better," he tittered.

The Dragon pursed his thin, pale lips, "stirring up trouble does seem to be a knack of yours, true... another reason why you're so well suited to this role. I want trouble. I want conflict."

"Sure, but how about after we've got the Army up and running?"

"All will be well. Trial by fire, eh?"

Trial by bloody fire, indeed, still at least he'd have his two big green pals with him...

The Dragon turned to Rap, "I'll have those uniforms whipped up in a jiffy when you're done. I've got other things you can be doing tomorrow while our esteemed General is busy making friends with the warring factions."

Shit.