The prowler lurched as if she had backed into a stone wall, and John felt his legs taking four thousand kilograms of weight under the vessel’s nine-g deceleration. The marines bulged toward him in their safety slings, their eyes bugging and their skin pouching toward their faceplates, their gear pulling little cones into their pressure suits.
	...
	Another bang, this one louder and sharper. Followed instantly by three booms , each deeper than the last. The tie-down bars vibrated in John’s hands. The fusion drives rumbled louder, and the prowler decelerated even harder, doubling and then tripling the force against John’s legs. Arresting straps began to pop, marines screaming freely into their masks.