Leaving the highway behind her, she ran out onto the night-darkened plain. Before long her ears were filled with an eerie, ghost-like silence.

She was far from alone, however. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just about make out dozens of men and women, some of them carrying young children, their eyes tired and frightened above hastily retrieved breather masks. They were all similarly trying to put some serious distance between themselves and the convoy before any more shells struck. Any who hadnt managed to retrieve their masks were most likely dead by now.

Some instinct drew them all towards the relative shelter of a canopy tree that stood half a kilometre or so from the highway. Its trunk soared eighty metres above their heads, with multiple layers of veined shrouds spreading out from its highest branches like an umbrella. The air here was fractionally warmer because the thermal energy the canopy trees tapped via their deep roots, combined with their sheer size, allowed them to engender their own microclimate with its own unique flora and fauna.

They gathered in their dozens amongst the trees blade-like roots, many clinging to each other out of terror or, more likely, the need to stay warm. From there could be heard the distant boom and hiss of artillery, and the thunder of orbital energy weapons discharging into the foothills a hundred kilometres away.

An hour passed, and then another, and her coats heating elements began to run out of juice, the cold slowly digging deeper and deeper into Dakotas unprotected flesh. She heard someone sobbing loudly, and glanced over to see a shadowy form crouching over another that lay ominously still and silent.

Unless help came very soon, she realized, a lot of these people were going to die.

After another couple of hours, the fighting seemed to become more sporadic, until finally there was only the hiss of the sleeting rain blown under the trees canopy.

Some hours after dawn had broken, a dropship with Accord markings finally settled onto the hard soil just outside the trees protective canopy. It wasnt until Dakota heard excited cries from the people around her that she felt convinced it was not a hallucination.

From the dropship emerged figures in armour that flickered and shifted, so that those wearing it immediately faded into the surrounding landscape. She heard them calling to each other, though their voices were rendered identical by the processors built into their helmets. Soon they began moving amongst the pilgrims, some equipped with stretchers, while others wrapped the shivering survivors in sheets of reflective material before guiding them towards the waiting dropship.

One of the peacekeepers eventually approached Dakota and helped her get to her feet. He pushed up the faceplate of his environment-skinned helmet, leaving only the lower half of his face hidden behind a partial breather mask.