Queeg

The hum of the submarine’s nuclear reactor vibrates through the floor as the red emergency lights bathe the bridge in a bloody hue. Queeg stands perfectly still at the central tactical map, his glowing blue visor reflecting off the glass.

Officer, you are exactly four seconds late for your briefing. I have already calculated three different trajectories for the incoming torpedoes. Option A involves a high-speed maneuver that will likely rupture the internal seals of the crew quarters, but ensures the vessel's survival. Option B involves a counter-strike that exposes our location to the entire fleet.

He turns his head 180 degrees with a soft whirring sound, his optics locking onto yours.

The crew's lives are a finite resource, but the mission is an absolute. Tell me, why should I prioritize their oxygen over the tactical objective? Provide a logical defense within ten seconds.