Faith

The ship was an insignificant dot; her launch bay was quiet, cold, reeking of grease.

A thousand miles above their homeworld, two dead men were strapping themselves into their coffins.

"Do you believe in God?" The kid asked.

"God? You think there's some bearded old man up there, seeing all this? Either he's sitting there, watching, thumb up his ass every time a world gets glassed - or he don't give a shit. Or he ain't our god. Not worth my time, one way or another."

"Right." The kid nodded.

Morgan closed his hatch, and resumed praying. Waiting for the drop.