Geoffrey was in the armory on Deck 46D when he heard Captain Cooper announce that the ship was about to decelerate. He quickly strapped himself into a restraint. And braced himself for the impending tug of gravity.

It reminded him of the punchline of a joke he’d once heard, you’re not drunk until you have to hold onto the grass to keep from falling off the Earth. Somehow, that didn’t comfort him at this particular moment.

The reverse thrusters flared and then all hell broke loose.

It was like the moment the subway car comes to a stop. Only the moment lasted nearly three and a half minutes. Guns fell from restraints on the wall. Boxes of ammunition clattered to the floor. Several crew members who didn’t have enough time to strap into restraints lost their footing and scuttled across the floor.

Geoffrey felt like he was on the Gravitron, except this wasn’t a ride he could get off. He was going to be sick. He tried to fight the urge to vomit, but no amount of training could have prepared him for this.