You can't handle the timeline! Son, we live in a world that has panels, and those panels have to be operated by qualified sailors. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Weapons Officer? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the pressurizer, and you curse the nukes. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that heaters being on, while tragic, probably increased pressure; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you,...