It was cold. Corrin shook his head and looked up. He had just woken. Grange sat by a small fire, warming his hands. The Adept had set up an adequate camp.

Corrin stood, shakily, and made to sit by him. Grange spun around anxiously and looked as though he had been interrupted in something. His face softened immediately and he stood. "I hate it here, Corrin. The lack of technology has some negative effect on my being." Corrin nodded in understanding, though he did not at all. Martians had always puzzled him.

"We can't stay here. We have to move." Corrin said wearily. "You got a map?" Grange pressed a button on his chest panel. A small projection appeared between them. It was a flat map of the world.

Grange lightly touched an icon in the top corner of the map. The map zoomed in to a small area. Three red heat signatures dotted the screen: Corrin, Grange, and the fire. "Mason City is several miles south of here. We can get moving now and get their by sundown." Grange said.

Corrin looked up. The sky was barely beginning to catch the light of day. He sighed and nodded in agreement. "Let's go." He said finally.

Grange threw a pile of snow over the still burning fire and they walked off. There were no landmarks, nothing but snow and sky. The two companions walked on silently. Grange threw Corrin a glance. "How did you get into this?"

Corrin shut his eyes and thought back. It was so long ago. "I was drafted during our war with the Panpacific. We, me and Johnson, were put in the same Company…6th. We fought over there for ten years and most of the company was annihilated." Corrin sighed. "Johnson was only one I knew that survived. We became brothers, in a sense. I've never been apart from him since we returned from the Panpacific." He held his hand to his head. "We were held in reserve as more and more men joined our ranks. Capar city was our first mission since we had been so badly hurt. Obviously, we failed. I lost Johnson. And now I'm here."

Grange looked at him sympathetically. "And you…" Corrin asked.

"No." Grange replied flatly. They walked on for a moment in total silence again. Grange stopped. "We were coming for peace. We only asked for…for peace." Corrin looked at him quizzically.

"They killed them; all of them…except me." Grange finished. Corrin looked away as tears began to stream down the Martian's cheeks.

"First, Fragon. He went in to herald our arrival. We could hear his screams through the sound proof walls of those chambers." Grange began to walk again, his head hung low. "Harath and Xelophius came to check on him. They were…butchered before our eyes."

Corrin to speak but Grange shook his head. "Garan and I…and all the novices…we entered. We looked at the blood splattered across the walls. And that man…that evil man. He smiled mockingly at us. His golden armor shown with gore." He raised his head. His oily face burned with fury. "We all wanted him dead. He stood there. His eyes flash and the novices….every one…caught flame. I watched in horror as he took control of Garan's mind. My late friend tore through the burning novices, catching fire himself and looping their heads from their young necks."

"He spared me. He ordered me to be incarcerated. They used me to advance their technology. I didn't put full effort in. They hurt me." Grange shivered. "I vowed from that day I would hunt every last Imperial man on this Earth and beyond. I will keep to that vow."

Corrin felt pitty for him. This man, even in the limited time they had known each other, had proven himself of steadfast loyalty and fearless conscience. Now, Corrin was almost surprised at the wetness covering his face.

The weeping continued steadily. Corrin heard a slight buzz. He turned quickly. A machine sped towards them, its hull hovering feet above the ground. "Grange…" Grange shook him off. "Grange! Imperials, damn it!" Grange seemed to snap out of a trance. He spun instantly.

The speeder approached. Corrin grabbed Grange's shoulder, restraining him. A soldier piloted the craft. His Imperial Helm was replaced with a pilots cap and goggles. "Sirs, this is Imperial Territory. All non-military personnel are to be…" He looked down to Corrin's Merican badge. "Crin scum." Corrin's face contracted in anger. Crin was the worst possible derogatory term for his kind. The Imperial lifted his las pistol. "On the floor! You too-"

The man's eyes widened. His mouth dropped. There was a charging sound. Corrin looked to Grange. His plasma cannon was pointed at the hull of the craft in point blank range. "What the Frak are you doing."

"Down." The Martian replied with a sob. There was a light flash. Corrin dropped into the freezing snow. Grange had had a reawakening. Corrin rolled over. The adept lay there, black with smoke and mud. He was breathing.

"You are a crazy…" But Corrin drained off. He was smiling. Grange stood and grinned. The tears were falling from his face.

There was a crunch from behind them. They both wheeled and aimed their guns at the noise. "Hey, don't kill me!" It was Medic Jonas. The three men smiled at once. "I heard your cannon. You're a crazy man Grange."

"Where are the others? Did they escape?" Corrin asked worriedly.

"It's a very long story. One that can be told on the way to Mason as I'm sure that's where you're headed." They nodded together. "Then let's go!"