• “Tell me that this will be worth it.” That was what his wife had asked of him. He had been so sure of himself, but he needed one last go, he wanted to prove himself. Gregory Small worked for a company known as The American International Sea Lines, or AISL for short, but it could have been called Eurasian or even African International Sea Lines. Hell, it could have just as easily gone generic and dubbed itself “The International Sea Lines.” The AISL had ports spanning almost across the entire globe and had luxury cruise ships sailing on paths that were just as widespread. This particular ship originated from San Francisco, California, housing a great deal of United States celebrities and not a small amount of their body guards.

    Gregory was the captain of the ship, 73 years of age and counting. His deep blue eyes and fluid movement were often said to be reminiscent of the ocean. The thinning hair upon his head was entirely white by this point; the light blond tint had begun fading a good 40 years or so ago. The only observable difference in his behavior as he aged was that he began to become enthralled in scrutinization of small aspects of life around him. Given some time alone, it was observable that he would ponder for hours at a time about entirely trivial matters. Sometimes, the crew would even leave him alone in the bridge to allow him a bit more privacy.

    Sitting in front of the control console, Gregory picked up his favorite mug, which happened to house a small crack that ran along the handle. He had been helping his wife with the dishes one day and it had somehow fallen to the floor. He attempted to remember more. After the dishes were done, he had gone to sit on the couch, newspaper in one hand and mug in the other. The kids arrived home from school and instantly began to fight over whose turn it was to choose the channel on the television. Gregory stood up from the couch and attempted to separate the two. During the squabble, they had accidentally knocked the mug out of his hand, spilling coffee all over the wooden floor. He had gotten quite angry at the time, but by the next evening, the incident was already long forgotten. That happened almost half a lifetime ago.

    Turning around, he ran his free hand across his chin, which housed a short, stubby beard, and turned away from the ship’s monitor. His birthday would be in a week and it just happened to coincide with his planned retirement day. Sarah Small had begged and pleaded for him to come home already; he needn’t work anymore, they were well past their planned retirement savings. But he wouldn’t listen, he wouldn’t have it. He was always sort of engrossed in himself, his pride devouring his good sense. He wanted to go out with a bang. And what better way than to be the captain of the ship that would create history by sailing to every major port in the world?

    He smiled as he thought of the welcoming party back home. Smiled as the torpedo sped towards the cruise liner. Smiled as he sipped his coffee with his back turned to the red alert screen of the deck’s radar console. And he was still smiling when the ship and everyone on it became little more than a red flare on the surface of the ocean, 300 miles away from the Eastern Asian shoreline.