"Approximately 40 percent of the population of Mohs lives on the surface of the mountains, or within a hundred meters of the surface. However no official census has taken an accurate measurement of the distribution of population density throughout Mohs’ terrain. Because dogs near the surface are more active than those at a deeper level, estimates of their numbers tend to be high."

Active.

Active.

Active in the sense they were physically active? Were those at the lower levels lazier and more lethargic? Active in the sense they participated in more political discourse and thus represented themselves better? Why wasn’t that clarified in the text? Did “active” have an additional definition to the diamond dog culture? Why use a native definition in a pamphlet published for foreigners?

Red Field turned the pamphlet over and reread the title.

"An outsider’s guide to the layers of Mohs"

The cover art showed a topographical illustration of the Rail Mountains, only the layers were marked in negative increments to denote the depth of the tunnels.

Locked Breech had brought back the pamphlet after the officers’ meeting. Khyber had left a stack of them. Only Red Field cared to read it.

Recon team was on the first deployment to Mohs. They were to fly to a base in Mohs and establish contact with the Federal Forces of Security: Mohs’ primary military force. From there they’d gather intel on the “Conspiracy” and where its membership might be hiding.

Recon’s mission was about as basic and limited as Red Field could fathom.

He hadn’t told the rest of the team of his attack on Flashpoint. They’d gotten word of their mission the morning after Red Field and Full Wing had returned from their trip to Cantorlot. Bombs Away had accompanied the two back to their barracks and wished them good luck on the start of the campaign. Bombs Away singled out Red Field and told the new sniper he was getting a trial by fire and given his performance in UAT basic, he wouldn’t melt.

“Where’s this place at again?” Asked Blackout. He sat next to Locked Breech, his rifle at his hooves. Chesterfield and Wildcat occupied the next row of seats while Red Field and Full Wing sat together against the crates of supplies.

“On a cliff on mountain five. No more information than that.” Locked Breech pointed to the reddish spell snaking through the air ahead of them. Luna had cast the navigation spell just before they’d left. According to Nacht, their maps were outdated and the base probably wouldn’t appear on print.

“Any dogs supposed to be up there?” Asked Wildcat.

“It’s their country, so yes.” Said Locked Breech.

“No I mean the base.” Said Wildcat.

“No, this is one of our old bases.” Locked Breech said.

“Chess, you and me check perimeter once we get there.” Said Wildcat.

The veterans of recon team continued to ask curious, flitting questions while Red Field and Full Wing sat quietly in the back seat. Red Field read and reread the pamphlet six times, then began to break down what he thought he’d learned. He began textual criticism of the book, hoping the pamphlet would suffice as a gospel on the anthropomorphic canines.

Sixty percent of the dogs lived underground, mining and tending farms of some sort. The other forty percent on the surface traded between mountains. Of the eight mountains, one was commercially owned, another a commune, while the other six were residential and agricultural.

Red Field wondered how an entire mountain could be commercially owned.

Red Field first tasted the dry, cold air as he conducted his thirty-third reading of the pamphlet. He looked up. The furry, pined incline of a mountain loomed just a few hundred meters to the right of the chariot. Red Field had never seen a mountain before. He looked out and saw eight of them.

The Rail Mountains resembled a tightly fit fortress of circled mountains or the jagged remains of a decaying tooth. The mountains were arranged in a lopsided circle and between the mountains lay swooping valleys and gulches. Red Field shifted to the other side of the chariot, which faced inward to the circle of mountains. He was disappointed to see the center of the mountains was just a large swath of forest. He'd partially expected a great city.

“Where do you think the dogs are?” Whispered Full Wing, who’d scooted over to Red Field. The mass of pines and scrub obscured their view of the ground and Red Field looked in vain for any movement below.

“I don’t know.” Red Field said. He didn’t like that he didn’t know.

“All right, we’re coming up on it.” Locked Breech called back to them. “When we land, we’re supposed to find the enlisted barracks and drop our gear off in room 308.”

Everypony crowded to the front of the chariot and looked for their base.

The mountain before them bore several cliffs jutting from the forested incline. Atop one of the larger cliffs stood a walled compound. The wall was constructed of concrete and fortified with rebar. Vines grew up the walls and the road leading out of the base was patchy with weeds. Thankfully, the structures still looked solid and the wall didn’t have any holes Red Field could make out.

“Looks tiny.” Said Blackout.

“We’ve never had a full scale operation in this place so I doubt we’d have a full scale base.” Locked Breech tilted the chariot up. After a moment of ascension, Red Field could see into the base. Three buildings, four stories each and arranged in a U sat inside the walls.

They landed in the center of the U. As they touched down, a familiar gray haze lifted around the chariot. Wildcat smacked his lips in disgust.

“The hell is that?” He asked.

“Rock dust, get used to it.” Said Locked Breech, climbing out of the chariot. “Grab your gear and let’s find building three, shouldn’t be too hard for you monkeys.”

The other ponies shouldered their packs and followed him. Red Field pulled his backpack and rifle case over his shoulder before hopping out. His hooves landed with an all-too-familiar crunch. He stood in about two centimeters of crushed granite and slate chips.

“Let’s see.” Locked Breech looked from one building to the next, before pointing to the one which overlooked the cliff. “That one.”

Full Wing walked close to Red Field, who walked behind the other ponies. He glanced nervously around the base. Full Wing had said very little since the night before and kept close to Red Field.

“How long has this place been derelict? We should sweep for transients.” Said Blackout, who kept his rifle at low ready. Locked Breech shrugged.

“Command made it clear we’re working alone for the majority of our time and that nopony comes up here.” He reached the door and gave it a nudge. It was unlocked and he entered. “We’ll check anyway.”

“Let’s do that ASAP.” Wildcat said.

The door led into a very narrow hall, so narrow they walked in single file. The corridor was darkened, and Locked Breech took a flashlight from his pack before continuing. The walls, floor, and ceiling were a rough concrete, and their hoofsteps clacked through the hollow building.

“Should be a power switch somewhere in the main room.” Locked Breech said, leading them deeper into the building. Red Field’s skin was already crawling by the time they passed out of the hallway and into an open room. “Okay, this is the,” Locked Breech read from a note, “assembly room slash briefing area. Just says the power switch is in a panel on the wall.” He held up his flashlight and pointed it into the darkness. “Spread out and try and find it because we need to get the power on before we do anything else.”

The group dispersed into the room. The other ponies and their lights drifted away from Red Field and he rooted through his pack.

He hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight?

“Hey.” Full Wing produced a light and gave it to Red Field. “Let’s stick together okay?”

“Yeah.” Red Field said, clicking the light on with trembling hooves.

Recon team swept along the walls in search of the electrical panel. Red Field and Full Wing walked close together, Red Field held the light out ahead of him like a sword and they slid carefully down the wall.
A hum vibrated through the floor and both froze. Something clicked and the room flooded with white light.

“Whoa.” Chesterfield said, covering his eyes. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Wildcat laughed as he pushed closed an electrical panel set into one of the walls.

“Did I scare anyone?” The group had almost spread to each of the four corners of the room. The room was empty and the team looked around at the space for a second.

“No, and thanks for nearly blinding me.” Locked Breech said, blinking several times. He ran a hoof through his mane. “Lights are on, now we check out our quarters.” He looked up from the paper and toward Red Field and Full Wing. He pointed toward them. “Right down there.” Red Field’s stomach turned as he saw he’d walked past an open hallway without noticing.
The hallway led to a stairwell leading up three floors. At the top of the stairs was another corridor spanning the length of the building.

“Room 308.” Locked Breech said as they started down the hall. The lack of windows in the hall and the bright white light gave the stony building the sterile chill of a hospital. Locked Breech stopped at a door a few paces down the hall. The rest of the team crowded around him. “Right here.” He said, giving the door a push.

It rattled a little and he pushed harder.

“Lock’s probably rusted.” Blackout said.

“Full Wing, why don’t you give me a hoof with this?” Asked Locked Breech, preparing to kick down the reluctant door. Full Wing shuffled up to the door. “Count of three we kick.” He counted down and the pair slammed into the door.
The door submissively popped open as if it had just been playing a prank and the combined force of both ponies threw it all the way back on its hinges, banging it against the wall. The bang spooked Red Field a little.

An unfitting and somehow sinister warmth slipped out of the room and the sharp, rusting odor of metal waited for them. Five cots, or rather the skeletal frames of cots, sat stacked in a corner. A few pipes overhead ran around the single light bulb in the center of the room. A window, covered in black plastic, was inset on the wall facing inward to the base.

“The hell is that smell?” Asked Blackout. Red Field grew further spooked as his sweating hooves told him of something awful nearby.

“Oh my God!” Cried Full Wing. Everypony turned and Chesterfield and Blackout drew their hoofguns.

Above the door and extending partially along the wall was a long, smearing stain. It was a rich black, with a few spidery veins of dark purple running through it. The stain glistened like mucus and Red Field couldn’t tell if it was moving.

“What the fuck.” Blackout said under his breath. Everypony shifted away from the door and toward the center of the room. Red Field stared at the putrid mess as his mouth filled with spit.

“What is that?” Asked Chesterfield, squinting at the stain.

“Hell if I know, but I can tell you-” Began Blackout.

“It’s mold.” Locked Breech said over Blackout. “Tell me we are not getting scared of mold now?”

“That don’t look like any mold I’ve ever seen.” Chesterfield still held his hoofgun.

“It’s mold for God’s sake.” Locked Breech pointed above the door. “That pipe is rusty, see that?” One of the pipes running above the door bore the earthy, orange hue of rust. “It had water sitting in it for so long that it started to leak.” He gestured to the stain. “Water runs out and mold starts to grow since there’s no airflow.”

Recon said nothing and Locked Breech stepped back to the door and looked at them.

“Look, we’re on edge here, I understand that.” He stepped in front of them. “I agree that this is a creepy place, all this concrete and it’s been shut up like a tomb. But it’s just a building, an empty building. We’re here to do a job. In a few hours we’ll clean this place up and it will be just as familiar and miserable as our barracks back at Gale Force. But let’s not let our feelings mess with our perception.” The ponies mumbled their agreement. “Forever one team.”

They repeated the phrase in unison and he nodded.

“Let’s start unstacking those cots and getting them arranged. Blackout, Wildcat, Full Wing, your hooves please.” He pointed at the pipes above them. “Country colt, check around the rest of the ceiling and walls and make sure there’s no more leaks or dangerous wiring.” He pointed to Red Field. “Sniper pony, go see if that smell is coming from that mold. Then take a look at the door and see if we broke the latch.”

Blackout and Wildcat began to converse with one another as they lifted the cots off of the pile. They made bets on how soon they would see the first spider and what size it would be. Locked Breech began to educate Full Wing on how to alert his teammates to something without making them think Nightmare Moon had returned.

Over the next few minutes, the group began to settle.

Red Field studied the mold, still perturbed. He reminded himself of the very scientific and rational explanation for the slime. He wouldn’t let his visceral emotions mess with his thinking. He crept toward the mold, not wanting to get too close, out of fear he might breathe in spores. He halted just under the doorframe and took a sniff. The odor filled his nose and he coughed.

“Yeah, it’s coming from here.” He called to Locked Breech.

“All right, check out the door and then I’ll send you and somepony else to find some bleach.” Said Locked Breech.

Red Field pulled the door toward him and inspected the latch. The metal was worn and a few bits of dusty metal fell out of the mechanism.

“I think it’s broken.” He said, poking the latch.

“Is it broken or is it just rusted?” Locked Breech asked. Red Field looked back at the latch, wondering about the difference.

“Uh, I can’t tell.” He said.

“Check the part of the wall that it locks in to, does it look like we broke the channel?” Said Locked Breech, growing impatient. Red Field peered at the chink in the frame. It looked rusted, but somewhat sound. If they’d opened the door without causing visible damage, the door probably still worked.

“Hey Fool’s Mate!” Blackout called. “You could expedite your research by just checking if it closes and opens normally.” The other ponies began to laugh and Red Field’s cheeks burned.

Why hadn’t he thought of that?

Red Field pushed the door closed. It clicked shut, and the latch held under some tugging.

“Hey! I think it’s fixed!” Chesterfield said.

“Better repeat the experiment, make sure your results aren’t a statistical oddity.” Said Wildcat. Red Field, thoroughly embarrassed, opened and shut the door several more times.

“Okay, I think it’s good.” He looked back at the group. “Full Wing, why don’t you follow me and we can go look for something to clean with?” Any unease he had toward exploring the building had given way under the pressure of shame and he wanted to get away from Blackout and Wildcat as soon as he could.

“Yeah, go with him and find some rags and some cleaner to scrape that crap off with.” Locked Breech pointed to the door and Full Wing hurried over to Red Field. Red Field hoped the search would take a while.

“Get an inventory of any supplies stored here while you’re looking.” Called Wildcat.

A gray figure had filled the doorway. It stood at double Red Field’s height and atop its shoulders was a lopsided head from which pointed two nicked ears. A pair of luminous yellow eyes with hair-like slits for pupils matched gaze with Red Field. The being had a smashed-looking snout with a black puck of a nose.

“Howdy neighbor!” Its mouth opened into a grin and rows of uneven and jagged teeth appeared under the dog’s curling lips.

Red Field recoiled. Full Wing cried out again and everypony looked to the door. Recon, save for Red Field and Full Wing, drew their weapons.

The dog yanked its head backward.

“Whoa now!” He held up his paws, which were tipped with needled nails. “Hang on a sec!”

“Hey what the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck back!” Shouted Blackout, holding a bead on the dog’s chest.

“Excuse me?” The dog said, turning its attention to the black pony.

“Quiet.” Locked Breech said to Blackout. He turned to the dog. “Excuse me sir, what are you doing here?” He asked, keeping his pistol aimed just below the dog’s large feet. The dog, who’d stepped away from the door and into the hall, looked to Locked Breech.

“We heard something in this building and wanted to make sure nobody was messing with Equestria’s property.” Said the dog.

“Who are you and how did you get access to this base?” Asked Locked Breech. The dog waited for a moment, as if they would recognize him, then rolled his eyes.

“No one told you about us? I apologize then, my country is run by assholes.” He pointed to his grey chest. “I’m captain Fo, I oversee security operations in this area of the mountain.”

“Fo?” Asked Locked Breech.

“Yes, Fo.” The dog said, as if the name shouldn't be surprising.

“Let’s see some ID.” Blackout said. Fo looked to Locked Breech as he recognized which of the pair was the commanding officer.

“Do you have identification?” Asked Locked Breech in a calmer voice. Shrugging, Fo reached into the breast pocket of his vest. He pulled out a laminated card and held it out to Locked Breech. He looked over the rest of the team as Locked Breech studied the card.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He said to Red Field. Even after blinking, the dog’s eyes remained in their disturbing state of wideness and one of his teeth stuck out on the right side of his mouth.

Red Field didn’t reply, but stared back at the dog, trying not to look terrified.

“Sorry about that.” Locked Breech gave the card back to Fo. He turned to the rest of Recon. “He’s law enforcement.”

Wildcat holstered his hoofgun first, then Chesterfield followed. Blackout lowered his gun, but did not holster it. Locked Breech pointed to him.

“Put that away.” Blackout didn’t move and Locked Breech started toward him. “I said put that away.” Blackout holstered his gun, but kept watch on the dog. Locked Breech stopped a few steps from Blackout.

“I’m sorry to have surprised you all.” Fo said as an uncomfortable pause fell. “The last teams of ponies we had operate out of this base kept to themselves.” He pointed down the hall. “My dogs are outside.” He smiled again, and a few more of his teeth rose up his lips. “They’d love to meet you.”

“Ah, I, suppose we could do that.” Said Locked Breech.

“Gentleponies, hope I can call you that, this my own personal squad of Government Mountain Arbitration and Law Enforcement officers.” Said Fo, leading them out of the barracks and into the yard.

As they stepped outside, they saw the door to the building opposite theirs had opened. Ten dogs sat under the shade of the other barracks. They wore thin black vests and most of them carried pistols stuffed into their belts. One of the dogs knelt next to the ponies’ chariot and inspected the wheels. All of them looked up as the ponies exited the building.

“More mercenaries?” Asked the dog looking at their chariot. “Are they going to talk more than the other ponies?”

“Sirs please.” Fo held his paws up. “These ponies have business to attend to. Can we hold a civil introduction?”
The group of dogs, who'd started to amble toward the middle of the yard where Fo and Recon stood, mumbled they could. Fo turned to Locked Breech. “This is-” He trailed off and motioned for Locked Breech to introduce himself.

“I am captain Locked Breech of Gale Force Company.” Locked Breech said. “This is my team; we’re coming back to check on this base.”

“Who’s the colt?” Asked a dog, pointing to Red Field. Fo smiled.

“Let’s let our guests-”

“That’s Red Field.” Locked Breech said. “He’s our designated marksman.” He flicked his head toward the dogs. “Go say hi Red.” Red Field’s skin crawled as the canines’ yellow and green eyes focused on him. He took a few steps toward them.

“God he’s small.” Said a dog.

The dog who’d singled him out held out his paw.

“Red Field? Interesting name.” He stood several centimeters taller than Red Field and his head was a bit more rounded than those of the other dogs, giving him a slightly less unsettling appearance. “Natick, civil relations officer.” Red Field held out his hoof and Natick shook it. Red Field flinched as the dog’s nails clacked against his hoof. “Always happy to meet one of Equestria’s soldiers.”

“Thank you Natick, at least some of us understand etiquette.” Said Fo. “Do you ponies have a medical officer?”

“Here.” Wildcat held up his hoof. He stepped forward, but not up to Red Field, who stood uncomfortably between the two groups. Fo looked through his dogs.

“Good good, where is-”

“Right here.” A dog shorter than the others, stepped forward.

“Hi, I’m God.” The dog said, offering his paw to Wildcat.

“Uh, hi.” Wildcat shook the dog’s paw slowly.

“I figured I'd use the name since no one else was." The dog didn't bother waiting for a laugh and shrugged. "If you need anything, come by our building.” Said God.

“God is our medic.” Said Fo. “He’ll share supplies with you, if there’s any you need.”

“Do you have different worm meds?” God asked Wildcat.

“We don’t have, those.” Wildcat tried to extricate his hoof from God’s grasp.

“They don’t get worms you dumb shit.” Called one of the other dogs. God looked at the group behind him.

“They might from bad meat you dumb fuck.”

“They don’t eat meat you dumb-”

“I imagine the ponies will receive the majority of their supplies from their country. We will provide the necessary supplies for all of our joint operations.” Said Natick. “And anything you might need in a pinch.” He motioned to God. “I think you’ve acquainted yourself well enough.”

Wildcat retreated from the other medic.

“The majority of our joint operations won’t require anything.” Fo said. “Not unless the shit really hits the fan.”

“Excuse me, I don’t know that we will be conducting any joint operations.” Locked Breech said.

“That’s just a general term, we don’t have anything major planned. Since your group is so small we’ll probably just go on some patrols and stuff like that.” Said Fo.

“I’m sorry, I think you must be mistaken.” Locked Breech said. “We are just here to search for Equestrian criminals.”

“That’s entirely fine by me; you do you.” Fo scratched at some of the coarse fur on his neck. “It makes no difference to me what your operations consist of, so long as you assist us in ours.”

“Why would we do that?” Asked Blackout.

“Because our agreement stipulates mutual military assistance.” Fo raised a dark eyebrow. “You have read the agreement?”

“I was not aware of such a contract.” Said Locked Breech. “Can you provide evidence of such an agreement?”

One of the dogs whistled.

“Shut up.” Fo said without looking back at his dogs. “Well Captain Breech, I’m not sure what to tell you. We’ve always been provided with military support from you ponies whenever your nation has happened to operate within our borders.” Red Field sensed Fo’s friendliness was both conditional and thinning. Red Field took a few steps back and joined the rest of Recon.

This movement deepened the rift between the two squads.

“What kind of operations are you referring to?” Asked Locked Breech after a moment.

“Law enforcement.” Said Fo. “Like always.”

“I apologize for my ignorance of such operations.” Said Locked Breech.

“Your predecessors seemed to understand-” Began Fo.

“I am not my predecessors.” Locked Breech said.

“You’ll play by their rules.” Said Fo. “If you don’t want trouble.”

“Excuse me please.” Locked Breech looked back at Recon. “Do we have a line to the Princess?”

“We can get set up for that.” Said Wildcat.

“I will contact my superiors regarding this agreement.” Locked Breech said to Fo.

“Why don’t you?” Said Fo quietly.

“Let’s set up comms in the room.” Said Locked Breech, ushering Recon back toward their building.

“Need any help?” Asked one of the dogs.

“No thank you.” Locked Breech said.

Wildcat and Blackout knelt on the floor, piecing together the oversized typewriter.

“The fuck are we going to do if Luna tells us they’re lying?” Blackout asked.

“I counted ten of them, looked like they all had pistols.” Chesterfield said as he unpacked the team’s weapons.

“Yeah, they’re armed, saw that.” Wildcat said. “Goddamn it, why the hell didn’t we know they were here?”

“Get that up and running and let’s get a line to the Princess.” Locked Breech stood by the door. He did nothing, except rub at his chin occasionally.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Blackout dropped his wrench and a bolt rolled across the floor. “Those dogs are creepy as hell.”

“Full Wing, give Blackout a hoof.” Said Locked Breech. Red Field and Full Wing both stood doing nothing.

“Goddamn it I got it.” Said Blackout.

Full Wing paused, Locked Breech nodded him on and the Pegasus knelt down and began to arrange the pile of remaining bolts. Blackout looked at him, but said nothing and continued to build the typewriter.

“Red, look for something to do, you’re going to lose your mind sitting around like that.” Locked Breech said. Red Field nodded and didn’t think to mention "nothing" was exactly what Locked Breech was doing.

He went to the window and peeled back the plastic.

The dogs had armed further. Some carried rifles and shotguns and most had holstered sidearms. They’d donned brown tactical vests stuffed with magazines or loose ammo. They’d moved a bit closer to the building and Fo stood in the center of the group, conversing with them.

One of the dogs looked up at the window. His eyes were a rich blood red and a pair of yellowed fangs protruded from his upper jaw. He saw Red Field. The dog lifted his paw and held out two of his bony fingers. In a quick slicing motion, he drew them across his throat.

Red Field moved away from the window.

“Fuck.” He said softly.

“What?” Wildcat looked back at him.

“They’re geared up, and they look like they're ready to fight.” Said Red Field.

“Goddamn it.” Blackout said, throwing down his wrench.

“Black, back on comms.” Locked Breech said.

“Breech those things are psychotic.” Blackout said, checking his hoofgun.

“They’re rough.” Locked Breech looked down the hall. “But we’re not doing anything without comms.”

“They’re too Goddamn close.” Blackout muttered as he knelt and snatched up the wrench. Red Field wiped some sweat from his brow and began to pace.

“How much longer?” Asked Locked Breech.

“’Bout a minute.” Wildcat said. Locked Breech nodded, then looked to Chesterfield.

“Chess, ammo count.”

“Got about five thousand loose. About five hundred each in mags.”

“Okay.” Locked Breech said, scratching his chin.

“Done.” Said Wildcat, sliding a piece of paper into the finished typewriter.

“Message: Contact made with local law enforcement, they claim we are to take part in joint patrol operations. Please advise on further action.” Locked Breech said.

The keys of the typewriter clacked like a tiny machinegun as Wildcat bulleted out the message. He tore the page off of the machine. The paper ripped in half and he cursed.

“Easy.” Said Locked Breech.

The keys rattled once more and Wildcat wrote the message again. He took the paper and gently removed it from the typewriter. He rolled it up and stuffed it into a bottle. His horn glowed a bright white as he launched the message.

The bottle dissolved and the room fell silent.

“Could take up to an hour for a reply.” Said Locked Breech. Blackout walked over to where Chesterfield was arranging their weapons. Blackout picked up his Kitty Kat and slapped in a magazine. He began to pile up a few magazines and started stuffing them into his vest. Locked Breech watched him, but said nothing. Red Field had begun to pace farther and farther.

He walked almost into the far corner, then turned and started back toward the door.

“Red get away from the window.” Said Locked Breech. Red Field looked at the window, then eased away from it.

“Cat, help me move these cots so we can barricade the door.” Said Blackout, donning his vest. He looked up to see if Locked Breech would contradict him.

“On it.” Said Wildcat, dragging a cot from its place against the wall.

Full Wing still sat beside the typewriter. He played with one of the extra bolts, scraping it along the concrete floor. He breathed through his mouth and looked catatonic with fear.

The dogs outside reached the punchline of a joke and they laughed. Their sharp, guttural laughter sounded like they were tearing the flesh off of something.

“We’ll send Red and Full Wing to the roof if need be.” Said Locked Breech, drawing his hoofgun. “The rest of us will hold the stairs.” The joke was compounded in a secondary punchline and a louder, more violent wave of laughter broke out.

As the dogs’ laughter died down, something magical popped above Red Field. Locked Breech snatched the bottle out of the air and yanked out the cork. Everypony looked to him as he pulled out the page.

“We’re to render assistance.”

“Are you shitting me?” Asked Blackout. Locked Breech tossed the paper to the ground, where the magical parchment melted away.

“Apparently Luna forgot to mention them.” Said Locked Breech, gazing at the window.

“They’re geared up for something.” Chesterfield said.

“They’re law enforcement; they’re supposed to be militarized.” Locked Breech walked over to where Blackout and Wildcat had been distributing the ammo. He picked up his rifle and a few magazines. “Let’s load up and see what they need.”

Red Field took the DMR. Full Wing carried his rifle and his spotting equipment. They carried enough gear for a long range patrol. Red Field’s hooves shook as he tightened the ceramic plates to his chest.

What kind of trouble did the police of Mohs usually encounter?

A few of the dogs had laid down in the dust and only Fo and Natick walked to greet Recon as they exited their barracks. Fo said nothing and simply raised his eyebrows as the groups met. The few dogs talking hushed and the quiet, windy ambience of the mountain filled the silence.

“Where is the patrol taking place?” Asked Locked Breech.

“The mountain.”

Red Field couldn’t tell if Fo was gloating or unintentionally obtuse. Either way, the answer made him further mistrust the dog.

“Can you show me the region on a map? What are we patrolling for? Any known problems?” Asked Locked Breech.

“We’re not going far, just to a couple villages. We’re patrolling for bad guys and criminals.” One side of Fo’s black mouth twisted upward. “And if we knew about problems, wouldn’t it be an attack and not a patrol?”

“There isn’t usually trouble.” Said Natick. “This is a lower crime mountain.”

“Lower?” Asked Blackout.

“Yeah.” Said the dog named God. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“It shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Said Natick. “You won’t need all of that, just pistols should be fine.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 21 Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 7 Minutes