Reverend Theo:Captain, may I have a word with you?
Captain Tagon:What is it? I've got a lot on my mind right now.
Reverend Theo:I'm worried about you. I've never seen you this miserable before.
Captain Tagon:I'm fine.
Reverend Theo:You're also not lying effectively.
Captain Tagon:I'm forty-nine. I'm feeling my age, that's all.
Reverend Theo:You're the picture of perfect health. Age isn't what you're feeling.
Reverend Theo:But it might be what you're fearing.
Reverend Theo:Aging is a death-march. We start fresh at the beginning of the trip, but every step is a reminder that the march only ends when we finally drop dead.
Captain Tagon:Death march. That's cheerful. Thanks. I'm glad we had this talk.
Captain Tagon:Also, I don't fear death.
Reverend Theo:Well, you're afraid of something.
Reverend Theo:You might be afraid of senility, or inability. Perhaps you're afraid of a life unfulfilled in some way, afraid of not passing on your genes, or your name.
Captain Tagon:How about "I'm afraid I might have to murder my Chaplain if he doesn't shut up?"
Reverend Theo:Now we're making progress. How does this little murder-fantasy make you feel?
