"EDI, damn it!" Joker exclaimed angrily.

"Joker, we're losing all the systems!" Garrus snapped. "We need to land!"

He reached the console for emergency ship communications at the back of the cockpit. Frantic beeping and squawking from the machinery around him put his teeth on edge. The higher frequencies made his sensitive ears hurt. Pressing the button, he started shouting over the din, trying to make sure everyone could hear his voice.

"Everyone, get to your emergency landing positions! Strapped in until further notice! Now!"

He turned to see Kaidan quickly pulling an unstable Tali to her feet. By the looks of it, the two of them collided before being thrown against the side wall of the cockpit. Kaidan's blood was potent and coppery in his turian nostrils as the major began to walk in his direction. Joker continued trying to speak to EDI, who laid motionless in her seat, appearing as if she was asleep. Unfortunately, Garrus knew better. AIs had no need for sleep … this was something much worse. He put his hand on Kaidan's back as he approached.

"Can you get her to a seat?" he asked.

"I got it," Kaidan grunted. "I'll get her strapped in. Just try to make sure we don't die."

Garrus stepped around him and Tali to approach Joker again. System alerts repeatedly screamed in all directions. Joker's voice became more strained and desperate, struggling to get EDI to open her eyes, to talk to him. The turian caught hold of the back of the pilot's chair as the ship shook again. In front of them, the windows revealed the approaching relay, massive in comparison to their ship. They were consumed by the blast. Garrus could hardly believe his eyes.

The usual blue haze of the element zero core began to be tainted with red. Another shudder went through the ship. Kaidan claimed the light to be red, and Garrus could see why, but it reminded him of fire. An almost indescribable combination of red, yellow, orange, white … it was a color that plainly reminded him of destruction. The metallic rings around the core stopped for a brief moment before they began rapidly turning the opposite direction. The brilliant illumination of the core had the turian instinctively putting his hand up to shield his eyes.

Garrus then took hold of the back of Joker's chair as the Normandy rumbled in protest.

"Joker, pull back!" he shouted, striking the back of his chair with panicked force. "We can't make the relay!"

"We can make the relay!" Joker barked angrily. "Make sure she's strapped in!"

"Joker, EDI's—"

"Damn it, make sure she's strapped in, Garrus! Please!"

A snarl of protest came from his mouth, but he went to do as Joker asked. His fingers felt clumsy as he fought to buckle EDI's straps down. For a brief moment, it seemed like the AI's body was attempting to move, but he chalked it up to the movement of the ship and his own fumbling. Despite himself, her slack expression reminded him of Shepard's face when she slept, when she wasn't having nightmares. Strangely at peace, yet … absent. Like the physical world was a plane she could abandon at will. Garrus always wondered what her dreams were like, but never had the heart to ask. It seemed, to the human race, dreams were often seen as moments of pure privacy; no one else in existence had the same one. He thought briefly that EDI looked as it she was just dreaming.

"Brace!" Joker shouted, snapping the turian out of his random thoughts.

The Normandy shuddered in protest as the ship went into the relay's glowing light. On a regular jump, the pass through the relay was hardly noticeable. This time, it felt as if the ship was being torn in two directions. It reminded Garrus of the SR-1's destruction, feeling the ship fall apart around them … he hoped the SR-2 wouldn't witness the same fate. Joker cursed violently, fighting to maintain control. Garrus clutched the back of EDI's seat, trying to keep from being thrown into the walls.

By some miracle, the ship's engines and thrusters reactivated. The Normandy's pilot whooped in victory as he kicked the ship into the fastest speed he could manage. Garrus straightened up to look out the window before them. He didn't recognize the system they had arrived in, but he knew that didn't particularly matter for the time being. Joker was focused on pulling away from the blast as quickly as possible.

Celebrations of the returned thrusters were short-lived, however. Behind the ship, relay's rings stopped spinning around the element zero core. A blast of light erupted outward from the relay. The Normandy was pitched sideways with the blast. Between Joker's strained shouting and the metallic retching of the ship, Garrus wondered if he was going to go deaf. Cacophonies were never good for turian ears. For a brief moment, he wasn't sure which way was up. The slight man to his left moved his hands frantically over his holographic controls, "shit" being his only known word at the moment.

Garrus's footing slipped from under him. He wasn't falling … actually, his feet began floating lazily to his right. The thought to inform Joker of the ship's apparent gravitational problem was short-lived as well, because just as quickly as he began to float sideways, the turian's thin, yet heavy frame dropped down again. He lost hold of EDI's chair, landing with a thump on the ground. Joker still fought with the force of the blast to correct the ship's port-side pitch. Garrus felt himself sliding along the floor as the ship turned practically vertical to its right side. He hated being out of control of his body.

Joker tipped the ship back to starboard, allowing Garrus the chance to catch hold of EDI's chair again. The turian man pulled himself up to his feet, planting them as firmly as he could. Chances to get to one of the safety harnessed seats were nonexistent at this point. Getting a grip was his only way to keep from ending up being thrown around the length of the ship. More frantic beeping came from the Normandy's controls. Joker's stream of curses became more animated as they beeping reached an apex of noise, then went silent.

"I lost everything!" he yelled, pounding his fist into the arm of his chair.

Even with the rattling of the ship, Garrus heard the bones of his right hand snapping from the outburst. Thankfully, Joker's anger allowed him not to notice it. "Everything?" Garrus asked. "What about the drive core?"

"Everything's offline! There's nothing I can do!"

The Normandy continued to hurtle in all directions at once, and with the helmsman without controls, they had no choice but to wait it out and hope that Joker did enough to get them by. Garrus never liked relying on hope in terms of survival. At the end of the day, you either died, or you didn't. The idea of "blind hope" was not in turian nature. You survived because you did everything remotely possible to make it so. Calculations, calibrations, analysis, strategy, execution … all of that and more were done to stay alive.

Now he had no choice but to literally hold on for dear life.