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| - "Last chance, trainee! Jump!" Simon's hands were locked around the straps of the backpack the navy men had given him as his legs buckled and threatened to fall out from under him. In front of him was the open troop bay of Pelican dropship, and beyond that was an icy blackness that seemed as if it would reach up and swallow him whole if he got any closer. It had been a long while since that one man had stopped by the orphanage to talk to him. Since then he'd taken a bunch of strange tests and then been packed up on a long space voyage that had made him throw up about once a day. Then they'd dropped him and hundreds of other kids off here, where a big man surrounded by more big men had given some kind of speech about the Covenant and how they needed to fight them. Simon hadn't really been paying attention; it had been nearly half a day since his last meal, and he was starving. But now they'd all been herded back onto the dropships, given strange backpacks, and now a big navy man was telling him to kill himself. "Do it, trainee!" the man howled over the gusts of cold wind. "Jump!" Simon barely heard him. All he could concentrate on was the blackness in front of him. His entire body had turned to stone, and he couldn't even think about moving. There was no way he was going into that darkness. No way. The navy man snorted in disgust. "Next!" he bellowed, and Simon loved him for it. Now he could go back to the orphanage, back to those dark hallways and angry teachers, never again having to face the darkness that was in front of him. He'd rather be thrown back onto the streets, with their feral dogs and the days filled with endless hunger, rather than go into the blackness. He took a step back, and the kid behind him pushed past. Simon's leg slipped, just an inch... And then the wind grabbed him and pulled him out of the dropship and into the dreaded blackness. The next few seconds stretched on for days, composed of an endless scream that was immediately snatched away by the wind the moment it left his mouth. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he couldn't breathe. It was only after he ran out of breath that he remembered the navy man's instructions. There was nothing but air around him, but he reached up and yanked the cords on either side of his backpack. Nothing happened. He hesitated, confused, then desperately yanked the cords again and again. He jerked his small arms up and down as the wind whistled around his falling body. And then, after another eternity, something behind him jerked up and away from his body. He felt a jolt, then yelped in pain as the backpack tightened around his body and squeezed out what little air he had left. He must have blacked out for several minutes, because the next thing he knew was that his face was buried in a mound of dirt while the parachute that had saved him came to rest over him like a blanket. There was the pounding of boots on dirt, then someone was tearing the chute off him and rolling him over. The stars twinkled overhead in the darkness as two of the navy men inspected him. "Jesus Christ, he's still alive..." "When his chute didn't go, I thought he was a goner. Like that poor girl from the Betas..." "Must've kept pulling. That's what saved him..." Simon breathed out and looked back up at the stars. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. As long as he could keep it that way, he'd do anything. Anything at all to survive.
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