Hastily erected floodlights illuminated the desert two hundred metres beyond the perimeter of the buildings, and the Daleks slowed to a halt just beyond their range. The commander spoke, the distorted, cacophonous amplification of its voice audible throughout the colony:
"This settlement is now under the control of the Daleks. Surrender, and your lives will be spared. Resist, and you will be exterminated!"
The other Daleks chimed in, their chorus rising to a deafening volume:
"Exterminate! Exterminate!"
The ancient battlecry had its effect: a visible tremor ran through the lines of soldiers as men flinched, licked dry lips and shrank back deeper into cover at a sound which seemed to drill into their very skulls. Then the Daleks opened fire.
Not at the men, but at the lights. The pinpoint accuracy of their built-in targeting systems sent streams of blue flame into the centre of the makeshift structures, reducing them in an instant to melting, burning wreckage, and the colony's defenders were forced to run and dodge simply to avoid being crushed by their own collapsing equipment. Then with the perimeter plunged into darkness but for the flickering light of the flames the Daleks moved in.
Dozens were killed in the first few seconds as Daleks coolly and unhurriedly selected their targets, the bodies incinerated instantly to greasy piles of ash, with nothing but a chunk of skull here, a few teeth there to prove that they had once been human. Those men who found the nerve to stand and shoot while their companions burned and died around them saw the metallic frames of their enemies briefly illuminated as the silver flares of their handguns rebounded from Dalek armour and hurtled away into the night. The flames grew and spread as the defensive line dissolved and blue fire tore chunks out of buildings and destroyed machinery. The surviving soldiers retreated, physically forced back by the intensity of heat from the inferno, and disbelievingly watched the Daleks follow them into the streets, their dome-shaped heads lit up bronze by the firelight, seemingly invulnerable as they moved steadily through the very heart of the flames.
The Doctor stood with arms folded at the window of the power plant's viewing platform, watching the scene, his face pinched and cold.
"This won't last long."
He turned and walked towards their sole guard, who instantly raised his gun to shoulder height. The Doctor halted, and contemplated the man for a moment, ignoring the gun barrel just inches from his face.
"Sir," he said, "You have a choice to make. You can go and join the battle, and fight and die with your friends, or you can head for the shuttlecraft, and live. But don't spend your last few precious minutes in this reality standing there pointing a gun at us because an idiot like Strole told you to."
The guard was a burly, square-faced man of about forty. He hesitated, stared out of the window at the red light of the flames, then back at the Doctor, then down at the gun in his hand. In an instant the decision was made and he turned and vanished down the stairs.
Jasmine tore her gaze from the vision of hell outside and ran up to the Doctor, clutching his arm to jolt him into action.
"What do we do now?"
He sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.
"There's nothing more to do. Those who are quick or clever enough will get to the shuttle and have a chance to escape. The others will be massacred. It's time to save ourselves."
"Good." She came round in front of him and found herself having to pull him along by the wrist to get him moving. "Let's go, then."
He let her drag him, and after a moment raised the motivation to run along with her down the steps and out into the deserted street, bathed in the yellow glow of illuminated orbs set into the walls of the buildings. Outdoors, the noise of gunfire sounded terrifyingly close now, and Jasmine realised it had spread out to the sides from the point of the Daleks' initial attack.
"They're splitting up," muttered the Doctor. "Aiming to cover the whole colony."
Jasmine gasped as, elongated by the street lights behind it, a hideous, unnatural shadow like nothing she had ever seen stretched its way into view against the wall of a nearby building. They ran, around the nearest corner and away, letting the battle recede into the background behind them. Then from somewhere there was a sharp, low booming sound and every light in the settlement snapped out.
Total darkness. Jasmine halted, turned this way and that, her head swimming as she stretched her eyes wide open and still could see nothing but inky, impenetrable black.
"It's all right." She felt the Doctor fumble at her wrist and then grasp her hand. "They must have hit the power hub. I know where we are."
She ran along with him, stumbling constantly in her inability to see her own feet, but seconds later there was somebody else there: she could hear laboured breathing, booted footsteps. Somebody blundered into her and she was knocked sideways, losing her grip on the Doctor's hand.
"Jasmine! Jasmine!"
She reached out blindly towards the sound of his voice.
"Doc..."
She was struck again, much harder this time by someone twice her size running full tilt into her, and she was flung bruisingly against the wall to slump to the ground and sprawl in the dust, all bearings lost. She sensed someone nearby.
"Doctor?"
The scene was suddenly illuminated by a painful, flaring blue light, and Jasmine found herself staring into the screaming face of a soldier as he was reduced to ashes before her eyes. Behind him, as his remains collapsed to the ground, in the instant before the light faded she had her first glimpse of a real live Dalek in all its faceless, armour-plated inhumanity.
Instinctively, Jasmine darted to the right, and a painful impact on her hip as she struck the corner of a building told her she had found an alleyway. She staggered along, arms spread out in an attempt to feel her way along the walls with her fingertips, tense with the knowledge that at any instant the blue flame of the Dalek's gun could stream down after her and there would be no place to hide.
It didn't come. The sharp reports of the troopers' weapons were audible, followed by the whine of the Dalek returning fire. Jasmine stopped and leaned back against the wall panting for breath.
She was lost and alone in the dark with no possible means of finding the Doctor or of making her own way back to the Tardis. She swallowed back the first sob of despair, but then that effort too seemed futile. She buried her face in her hands as from all sides there closed in upon her the ongoing sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screams.