(PROSE: Engines of War C2) AF

The ambush came without warning. There was no alarm, no indication that anything was awry, that they'd triggered some sort of trap. One second there was nothing, the next an armada of Dalek stealth ships had blinked out of the Vortex.
The Doctor had seen these ships only a handful of times before—sleek, ovoid vessels of the purest black, devoid of the usual winking lights that typically marked a Dalek saucer, and twice as dangerous. They were a recent and unwelcome development. They were said to sit in the Time Vortex like spiders at the heart of a web, detecting the vibrations of passing TARDISes. Only then would they make themselves known, shimmering into existence to catch the Time Lords unaware.
It was elegant and deadly and—the Doctor realised—Preda and her fleet had just been caught in their web.
The Time Lords had no time to react. Not a single one was able to dematerialise before the Dalek weapons cracked them open like tins cans, spilling their insides into the cold vacuum of space.