Stacy's conduit, of course, was as disturbingly organic as the rest of her. He wasn't sure why he expected it to be any different, the Master thought as he gritted his teeth, transferred the screwdriver back to his pocket, and reached around in the muck with his free hand. Eventually his fingers found what felt like a port.

"This had better work," he snapped at the Doctor, before jamming the cable home. It would be pathetic to die out here, a dessert for the Ohm, and for absolutely no reason.

That was the last thought he had before everything went searing white. The Master convulsed, gripping the cable tightly with both hands, for an agonizing few seconds before being thrown backward by the energy surge. He hit the hangar floor with a thud and simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling with an almost comically surprised expression, his limbs twitching.