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Martin awoke with a start, he wasn't sure what had woken him but he knew instantly that something wasn't right. He rolled over on the bed and spread out an arm, the bed was empty. He slipped quietly out of bed and went looking for Dillon, the bear had been having trouble sleeping since he got home from the dragos war. The rabbit had tried to talk to him, to find out what was wrong to no avail.

The light brown rabbit stepped lightly out of the bedroom he shared with the bear. He could see a faint light coming from the living room. He trotted towards it quickly. He found the huge white bear slumped over holding something in his paws. The sharp scent of strong alcohol was in the air and Martin could make out a half empty glass in his partner's left paw and an empty bottle on the floor, with a half empty bottle on the table.

"Is everything ok?" He asked, feeling nervous, as it was clear something was very wrong with the bear.

"No, everything's not ok." The bear rumbled without looking up, he was staring at whatever he was holding in his right paw. His voice was strained and strangely soft and his words were heavily slurred. The bear drained his glass and reached out for the half empty bottle, knocking it over and onto the floor in the process.

The rabbit jumped forward and grabbled the bottle, twice distilled honey whiskey, just like the empty bottle. "Don't you think you've had enough? I'm worried about you."

The bear looked up at him, his eyes red and bloodshot, the fur on his face matted and still damp from tears he had obviously been shedding. He reached out and carefully but firmly took the bottle out of the rabbit's paw and emptied it into his glass.

"It's an old polar army tradition, the drink of the dead." The bear explained, the alcohol in his breath so strong that Martin almost sneezed as he caught a whiff. "We sit up and drink to honour the life of a fallen comrade. Normally we have their helmets, sit them on the bar. If they don't have holes in them we fill them with booze and all the surviving members of the squad drink from it."

Sitting down next to the bear the rabbit couldn't help but notice the bear didn't really seem to be talking to him. However, he knew that the bear needed to talk and if this was a way to find out what happened on Prime he was willing to sit by and listen as the bear continued.

"Of course you rabbits don't have proper helmets, just half helmets really. Stupid weak armour for a beautiful fragile people. So I'm using these instead." As the bear hefted up his right paw the rabbit could see lots of little metal tags glinting in the dim light. His stomach felt nauseous as he realised that they were dog tags from fallen troops. He couldn't count how many but knew it was more than ten or twenty.

The bear lifted them up to his muzzle and muttered. "Aldo Higgs, that a female name or a male one? Guy that sent you to your death should know that sort of thing about you right; your name, your face, who you were where you came from? He should know and he should feel something when he sends you out to die. I didn't know Aldo but I sent him or her to die. Here's to you Aldo I hope you're somewhere better now."

"I wonder how he or she died; on the walls, barricade or in the courtyard. It matters you know, where they died, it means something. Or at least it should, but it was just a little fort and it really didn't matter. " The bear took another huge swig of his drink and then continued. "A small fort, I should have just got them to run, but we had orders to hold and we didn't know my people were coming. So at the time it seemed important, but now I know, it was all pointless. Should have given the order pulled them all out, they'd still be alive if I had."

"You did what you thought was right." Martin whispered reassuringly, reaching his arm around the huge slumped shoulders and letting the bear know he wasn't alone.

"Lot of good that did poor Aldo or any of the thirty-six others that I led to their deaths. You keep asking me what happened well I'm just drunk enough to tell you the truth. It wasn't long after we sent Cole away with my message for you, I took command of the little fort.

Fort ha! That's what your people called it, the polar military wouldn't have stored a transport in a structure that small and flimsy. Four walls of plasteel cement and around a courtyard, one gate and one building at the back.

I sent sergeant Rife off with three of his men, to scout the enemy, he asked me why and I replied.

"Because I need to know; how many Dragos are incoming, how many tanks they have, do they have mounted guns, shield breakers and above all because I gave you an order and you will obey my orders as you would the word of whatever damn god you pray too." It was a bit over the top I know, but I needed the guys on the fort to know I was in charge. Soldiers need a strong leader you know, someone to tell them; where to stand and fight, who to shoot and... and when to die.

"Bit rough on him there Captain." Sergio said to me, he was a nice blonde rabbit. Smart, funny, good looking. You'd have liked him if he'd lived.

"Think the dragos won't be as rough on us." I snapped back and then looked around the camp. "Assemble the men we need to get ready the dragos will be here shortly.

Speeches, they don't give a proper course on how to give them in the academy. Although they did make us study them. I'd never been comfortable giving them, but hey it was a last stand, so I figured I'd better give a damn speech. As the men were assembled, two rows of wide eyes full of fear looking at a bear wearing a sheet as a skirt holding a rifle and yelling about; duty, honour, glory and all that meaningless bullshit that we commanders use to manipulate our soldiers into doing what no sane person would do. Stand against a force outnumbering them over ten to one and hold a worthless cheap ass fort.

After I finished rousing the men I ordered a barricade to be built in front of the building. I knew we couldn't hold the walls forever, we didn't have the men needed to cover every wall. All the dragos needed to do was rush us on two fronts and we'd be finished. When the barricade was half built the patrol returned, with bad news.

"They have two Lk-700 tanks" Sergeant Rife practically squeaked as he reported in. The Lk-700 is the dragos defence buster, the forts little shield generators would collapse after a couple of hits and then they would wipe us out in minutes.

"Shit!" I cursed and then shouted. "Adam's, Hick's, you see any armour cracking explosives in the supplies?"

"Yes sir, we got enough to take out five tanks." The corporal's replied in unison.

"It don't matter how much we have, the troopers with those tanks aren't just going to let us walk up and set the charges." Rife bitched, he was a glass is half empty kind of a soldier and who could blame him, he'd been holding this fort for months and lost damn near all his men doing it.

"We don't need to get close, we know the route the dragos are taking, we just mine the road and hope like hell that the tanks happen to roll over the explosives so we can pull the trigger. Absolute worse case scenario we miss both tanks but take out a good few of those bastards anyway." Worse case my ass! Worst case was what happened, we nailed both tanks and took out a good few of those green bastards too. Still if we'd missed I'd have abandoned the fort, tucked tail and ran as the canines say.

Instead we celebrated our victory, like fools do. However, we now had an incoming force of four hundred and something odd dragos troops all seriously pissed off at us. It wasn't long before we saw them. I was up on the wall with the men, I could hear them muttering nervous and I shouted out a few words of support and encouragement. "Stand firm, remember your training." probably about a half dozen other empty phrases, all designed to keep the men standing and fighting.

Then they came, hundreds of them rushing the gate, the shields kept most of their fire out, and we managed to cut a good few down before they reached the shield perimeter. Then they pushed through the shield and we started to take our first casualties, the scent of burning fur in my nostrils I stood on the wall screaming defiance. My gun was only silent when reloading then a cry came up from the east wall. It was Sergio, the dragos were attacking the east wall.

He stood alone screaming at them as he emptied his rifle, While some of the men rushed to his aid. They didn't make it there before the dragos got him, shot through the chest. A clean death I suppose, he was a good man it was the least he deserved. Still he gave us enough warning, not enough to stop them but as the men got there and shouted out that the dragos were pulling back. I knew what was happening, they'd planted explosives and were going to blow the wall.

I screamed out to the men on the wall to get clear, but there wasn't time, it blew and five more of my men died. The dragos charged in and we met them in the courtyard. It was brutal, my men dying around men. I crushed a dragos, blasted another, a third huge hulking fucker took my ear off with his bayonet.

I hit him so hard his ribcage fractured, I felt his bones crack. The tough bastard managed to get another slice at me, giving me this nice scar on my face. I was lucky an inch or two more and he'd have got my eye. Instead I got him, with these claws." Dillon flexed the black claws on his right paw and then continued his tail. "I tore him open and then continued to pull back towards the barricades.

Adams and Hicks had been by the door they were doing their best to provide covering fire. They were beyond help and they knew it, back to back they stood firing until their rifles and pistols were empty, I saw Hicks take out his knife, but he took a shot to he head before he could use it. I don't know what happened to Adams, one moment he was fighting, the next he was gone. Just another corpse following the orders of the great Captain Teal.Hu -bloody rah, and all that bullshit.

Sergeant Rife was on the barricade when I finally made it there. Stupid fucker jumped off the defence line and made a run for a soldier who went down. Maybe they were friends, possible even lovers, or maybe he was just a fellow soldier in need. I don't know why he did it, I just know the dragos gunned him down along with the rabbit he was trying to save.

I don't know how many of us made the barricade, less than half. We had a mounted gun up and with the courtyard free of friendlies it opened fire. At the same time we flipped on the emergency shield generator we had set up at the barricade. It wasn't strong enough to block out all of their shots, about one in three got through. However, it gave us the chance we needed and we pushed the dragos out of the courtyard.

It had been just ten minutes and we had taken such heavy losses. Still we made the dragos pay heavily for each death. I tried to rally the moral of the survivors, I barked out a few orders, got our defences better organised and planted myself next to the mounted gun. The air was thick with the scents of; fear, death, burning fur, scalded leather and the ozone smell of laser rifle fire. I don't think most of my men heard me, though they followed my orders it was their sub-conscious doing it, same as it was my sub-conscious giving them out. I couldn't stop thinking; about you, about here and about how things should have been.

Still our break didn't last long before the enemy returned, pushing in from the gate and the hole in the east wall. They were desperate to take the fort, can't leave an armed outpost in your supply lines you see. We were desperate to stay alive, at this point duty, honour, glory they were just words. What really keeps you going is fear, mind rending fear, the desperate need to kill the other fucker before he kills you.

The shield generator gave up and they got a plasma grenade over the barricade, my arm went up like a torch. Odd sensation, your own fur and flesh burning and sizzling. I don't think I felt any pain, just anger pure rage. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, I wasn't meant to die there.

I grabbed the mounted gun hefted it onto my hip and stood roaring, my anger and frustration out at the dragos. It was around this time that a transport landed nearby. I didn't know but relief was on the way. The dragos pulled out and I was still firing, I didn't stop until the gun ran dry.

There were three others who made it through the fight, I don't know there names. I never thought to ask. We just sat there in shock until the polar troops arrived, the medics treated our wounds and we were put on a transport.

I remember that ride, people talked at me and I answered, but their words didn't register. I just sat there thinking, it was all for nothing. I had got my men killed and for what? Some piece of shit fort in the middle of no-where, that nobody would give a shit about. What's worse I sat there asking myself over and over again, why did I survive, why did I deserve to live when so many of my men had died?

Now I look at the tags of all those that didn't make it and I don't even know who they are. I don't know if they were shot, knifed or blown up when the wall went. They are just names and they shouldn't be, they are people, soldiers who I let down. Who I let DIE!" The glass in the bear's paw shattered and Martin jumped in shock as Dillon practically screamed the last sentence.

The bear looked at the broken glass and picked up a third hidden bottle of whiskey. "Here's to you all, I'm sorry I let you down." Dillon muttered before taking a huge swing from the bottle. Then he put the cap back on the bottle and placed the dogtags down next to it.

He looked at his concerned lover and smiled, rubbing his eyes with his paw. "I'll be ok, I just needed to get that out. I will be sending these tags on to their family, along with a letter to explain what happened. Tough day, tough night." The bear stood up rather shakily and reached out a paw to the rabbit. "Take me back to bed and remind me why I fought so hard to come home."

Martin sniffed a little, brushed away a few stray tears and took the bear's paw. He led back to their bed, helped him settle in their cool sheets and held him tightly for the remainder of the night.