Dogs of War

My name is Rex. I am a good dog.... Rex is also seven feet tall at the shoulder, bulletproof, bristling with heavy-calibre weaponry, and a deadly weapon in a dirty war. He's part of a Multiform Assault Pack operating in the lawless anarchy of Campeche, southeastern Mexico. He has the intelligence to carry out his orders and feedback implants to reward him when he does. All he wants to be is a Good Dog, and to do that he must do exactly what Master says.

Mars. The red planet. A new frontier for humanity: a civilisation where humans can live in peace, lord and master of all they survey. But this isn't Space City from those old science-fiction books. It's more like Hell City, built into and from a huge crater. There's a big silk canopy over it, feeding out atmosphere as we generate it, little by little, because we can't breathe the air here. I guess it's a perfect place to live, if you want to live on Mars. At some point I must have wanted to live on Mars, because here I am.