I have come to the conclusion; that the reverse sneezing of British Bulldogs is the closest thing to Darth Vaders breathing, as you will ever find in nature.
But sail upon the wind of lamentation, my friends, and about your head row with your hands' rapid stroke in conveyance of the dead, that stroke which always causes the sacred slack-sailed, black-clothed ship Charon to pass over Acheron to the unseen land here Apollon does not walk, the sunless land that receives all men.
If we run away the Geth stay under Reaper control & the Quarians are dead. This ends now. EDI, hatch the Quarians to the Normandy's weapon system. I want the targeting laser sync'd up to the whole damn fleet.