The Best Captain Gabriel Lorca Quotes

Captain: I was just thinking about everyone who's ever said that victory felt empty when it was attained. What a bunch of idiots they were.

[Lorca has hinted on considering Tyler for the job as Chief of Security]
Ash: You offering me a slot, Captain?
Captain: Well, I figure I've seen you fly, shoot... fight like a Klingon.
Ash: Klingon guards beating on me for seven months, I was bound to pick something up.
Captain: No, most people would've given up. You learned.

Captain: So, is our new guest settled in?
Commander: Aye, sir. Snug as a bug in a rug.

Saru: It was a trap, sir. The Klingons have taken the admiral. Their ships are en route to enemy space now. Shall I...
Captain: Notify Starfleet Command. Ask for orders.
[Sarus looks at him curiously]
Captain: Is there a problem?
Saru: No, sir. Uh, just, in the past, we have engaged in alternative thinking on these matters.
Captain: What if we go after her and it's another trap, Mr. Saru? Did you consider that? Starfleet can't afford to lose the Discovery. She's bigger than all of us. If so ordered, we will try and rescue the admiral, but not without authorization.
Saru: I will hail Starfleet now, sir.

Captain: You did well, Burnham. You should be proud.
Michael: Much as it would displease my Vulcan mentor, I'm feeling a lot of emotions right now. I'm not sure pride is one of them.

Captain: [ending a training simulation] We're all dead.
[sarcastic clapping]
Captain: Very nice. Very polite. Now, Discovery is now the only Starfleet ship with a displacement-activated spore drive, which means, when it's up and running, we will be able to materialize anywhere in the known universe. Behind enemy lines. Above the Klingon homeworld. Anywhere. But we will be alone. We will not have backup. There is just us, and we get one chance to get it right.
Commander: We'll do better next time, sir.
Captain: It will be hard to do worse.

Captain: Michael Burnham is not to be touched. She is integral to our future plans, a future where we together will make the Empire glorious again.

Captain: What're you afraid of?
Michael: Georgiou.
Captain: You mean, Emperor Georgiou.
Michael: Logic tells me she's not the woman that I betrayed. But this feels like a reckoning.
Captain: Your Georgiou is dead. She's a ghost.
Michael: Haven't you ever been afraid of a ghost?

Captain: Mycelium spores. Harmless. Harvested from the fungal species prototaxites stellaviatori, which we grow in our cultivation bay. But you know that, 'cause you broke in. We're not creating a new way to kill. We are creating a new way to fly. An organic propulsion system. The Glenn was traveling on these when disaster struck. You yourself have jumped across the mycelial network. Nothing bad happened; just the ship's walls got a little damp, that's all.
Michael: Black alert.
Captain: Now, Discovery's leaps have measured only in the hundreds of kilometers. A sad statistic which is a source of some tension between myself and Lieutenant Stamets. But our more advanced sister ship, before she crashed, was traveling back and forth from the Beta Quadrant, 90 light years away, in 1.3 seconds.
Michael: How do you travel on spores?
Captain: Imagine a microscopic web that spans the entire cosmos. An intergalactic ecosystem. An infinite number of roads leading everywhere.
Michael: The veins and muscles that hold our galaxy together.
Captain: Now, if the Discovery can be anywhere and gone in an instant, that's how you beat the Klingons. That's how you win the war. And we must win the war. But that's just the beginning. Imagine the possibilities. Want to see where they're going? Where they've been? Or where they could take us? Hold tight.
[he presses a button, and Michael appears to disappear from Discovery and re-appear on other planets]
Captain: Blink: you're in Illari. Blink: the moons of Andoria. Blink: you missed Romulus. All those planets, all those places, all those species seen and yet to be seen. And you're home like it never happened.

Michael: Sir, you didn't have to mount this rescue mission for Sarek.
Captain: I didn't do it for him. I need a team around me that's gonna help me carry the day. And that includes you. So I'd like to make it official. There's a post waiting for you on the bridge; science specialist. Don't even think about saying no.
Michael: I accept.
Captain: Good.
Michael: I'm grateful to serve under a captain like you.

[Stamets has offered to do one more jump to get Discovery to safety]
Captain: We're gonna win this war on account of you, Mr. Stamets. After this, it's a whole new chapter for Discovery. You've opened a door to a... whole new era of exploration. The data provided by the micro-jumps will push us closer than we've ever been to understanding the mysteries of the universe.
Paul: No, Captain, I mean *only* one more jump. After we get back, I'm done. Traveling the mycelial network is like commingling with the most abstruse blips of our celestial existence. I've seen these stars through a lens no one else has access to, and... that has to be enough for me. Because I need Starfleet's best doctors to examine my condition and figure out what's been happening to me.
Captain: One last jump, then. You've served the Federation honorably, Lieutenant.
Paul: Well, I'll always have you to thank for the view.

Michael: These are some of the deadliest weapons in the galaxy.
Captain: I study war. And this is where I hone my craft. I try to learn from the best. Here. Now, this I think you'll find uniquely interesting. You've met once before.
[the creature from the USS Glenn approaches and is zapped by the containment field]
Captain: It has a natural aversion to light. Same as me.
Michael: Why would you keep something so dangerous on board your own ship?
Captain: That thing killed a dozen Klingons on the Glenn, and there's not a scratch on it from their bat'leths. If we're gonna win this thing, if we're gonna have a chance of saving the Federation and everyone in it, we need the best weapons available. So, what material is in a claw that can shred the hull of a ship? What's a hide made of that can withstand the firepower of a phaser set to kill? I need you to find out... and weaponize it.

Captain: You have training in high-level quantum physics, don't you? My engineers tell me it's gonna take three days to clear the lightning bugs out of the prison shuttle. I have something on deck that requires every trained mind available. You're gonna help us out.
Michael: No.
Captain: Excuse me?
Michael: No thank you. Respectfully, I owe a debt for my crime, and it'd be best... I'd prefer to serve my time without getting involved.
Captain: You think I care what your preferences are? Until your vessel's repaired, you'll be assigned to quarters and put to work. I'm not a chauffer. There's no free rides on my ship. You were once a Starfleet officer. I will use you or anything else I can to achieve my mission.
Michael: And what mission is that, sir?
Captain: To win the war, of course. Send everyone home. Safe and happy.

Captain: Michael Burnham, I would like to extend an official invitation to you to join the Discovery and be a member of our crew.
Michael: Sir, I've been court martialed and convicted...
Captain: Don't worry about Starfleet. They gave me discretion to fight this war however I saw fit.
Michael: I'm afraid I can't take you up on your offer.
Captain: You hell-bent on self-persecution?
Michael: That's not it. Not all of it, anyway.
Captain: Why wouldn't you stay?
Michael: Let me answer your question with a question. Why do you want me to stay?

[Lorca is held prisoner by the Klingons, together with a certain Harry Mudd]
Captain: Where are we?
Harry: On a resort off Antares Minor. You should try the spa. The hot-stone massage is delightful.
Captain: Where are we?
Harry: Typical Starfleet. No fun at all.

Captain: Michael Burnham. *The* Michael Burnham on my ship. When I saw your name on the shuttle manifest, I... re-read your file, pulled up your court martial transcripts, and... you're something.
Michael: Captain, what am I doing on this ship?
Captain: I guess you might have to ask that storm out there.
Michael: I received no warning that I'd be transferred to another prison facility, which is customary. And my shuttle changed course halfway through the journey.
Captain: Maybe the universe hates waste.
Michael: Sir?
Captain: Question is... what am I gonna do with you? I put you in the brig, someone's gonna die, and I don't have the time for that kind of distraction.

Captain: I did choose you, but not for the reasons you think. Your assumption that the Klingons were waiting in ambush at Binary Stars was predictive. You chose to do the right thing over what was sanctioned, even at great cost to yourself. And that is the kind of thinking that wins wars. The kind of thinking I need next to me. Universal law is for lackeys. Context... is for kings. Now, what's it to be, Michael? What's in your future?
[offering her a fortune cookie]
Captain: What do you wish for? Atonement? Redemption? Maybe... the reassurance that the captain you lost didn't die in vain? You helped start a war. Don't you want to help me end it?

Admiral: I don't want to ruin your career, but when I return, we'll talk about how you step down. And after you get some help, maybe we'll get you back in that chair.
Captain: May fortune favor the bold, Admiral. Good luck with your negotiation.

Captain: We're the tip of the spear in a science vessel filled with wide-eyed explorers. You know what they need us to do, don't you?
Michael: They need us to win.
Captain: They need us to survive, Burnham. Want to know how you're gonna help me do that?
Michael: I'm happy to assist Lieutenant Staments with the refinement of the spore drive.
Captain: Said the xenoanthropologist.
Michael: I also studied quantum mechanics at the Vulcan Science Academy, sir.
Captain: I know, but I'm gonna put you to better use.

[as they are being hailed, Burnham discovers that mirror Discovery's captain is, in fact, Tilly]
Captain: Cadet, looks like you're taking this.
Sylvia: Uh, wh- uh, wh-what-what do I say?
Captain: You just get rid of them as fast as possible. And you talk as little as possible.
Sylvia: That's, uh, that might be a little hard for me- Have you noticed that I talk a lot?
Captain: Defy your every instinct.

Ash: Your eyes. That happened when you destroyed the Buran, didn't it?
Captain: We choose our own pain. Mine helps me remember.

Captain: [on gormaganders] Thought those things had been hunted to extinction.
Michael: Hunting isn't the cause of its reduced numbers. It's primarily due to their mating practices, or lack thereof. They spend their lives feeding on alpha particles in solar winds. They're often so consumed by this task that they ignore all other instincts - including reproduction.
Captain: That's as depressing a trait as I've ever heard.

Captain: How's the patient, Dr. Culber?
Dr. Hugh Culber: Well, I took care of the skull fractures first. Another millimeter, and the palatine bone would've pierced his cortex.
Paul: The frontal lobe is overrated. It only contains memory and emotional expression. It's completely unnecessary.
Dr. Hugh Culber: Well, I'll save it. You know, just in case you might wanna have a feeling one day.

Michael: I'm not here by accident. I think you brought me here. I think you've been testing me.
Captain: And why would I do that?
Michael: You're developing some kind of experimental technology, some kind of spore-based biological weapon.
Captain: Oh?
Michael: The kind of weapon that is explicitly forbidden by the Geneva Protocols of 1928 and 2155. And you need someone to help you. Enter me. A mutineer who intended to wage unsanctioned war on the Klingons. A trained officer who's been banished from Starfleet, and someone who would presumably do anything to get out of their life sentence in prison, including illicit weapons tests, like whatever went wrong on the Glenn.
Captain: Enter you, indeed.
Michael: I'm not who you think I am. Before I was a mutineer, I was a first officer in Starfleet. I'll never bear that rank or any other again. But it is who I am and who I will always be. It is by the principles of the United Federation of Planets that I live. And by them, I will most certainly die.
Captain: I know who you are, Michael Burnham. I know exactly who you are. Yeah. I know you love being right. But I suspect that you hate being wrong even more. So let me stop you going down a path you'll regret.

[the Discovery crew are wondering about the strange behavior of ships they have encountered]
Saru: I may have something. The quantum signature of the Cooper, as well as that of the Vulcan cruiser, are inconsistent with ours.
Michael: That's not possible. All matter native to our universe resonates with the same quantum signature, nothing can change it.
Captain: That's true. Unless... this is not our universe.

Admiral: You sleep with a phaser in your bed and you say nothing's wrong?
Captain: Kat...
Admiral: All these months, I have ignored the signs, but I can't anymore. The truth is you are not the man I used to know.
Captain: Of course I am.
Admiral: And I'm not like the rest of them at Starfleet, blinded by your victories. You lied on those psych evaluations. And you did it so brilliantly, you fooled everyone.
Captain: Is that what you're doing here? You came to evaluate me yourself?
Admiral: I have watched you change these last months. It's upsetting.
Captain: Kat, look...
Admiral: Now I see it's worse than I even thought. Your behavior is pathological. That's what tonight was, right? Trying to get me to back off?
Captain: No.
Admiral: 'Cause it sure wasn't what it was like before. But this is bigger than us. You said it yourself; we're at war. I can't leave Starfleet's most powerful weapon in the hands of a broken man.
Captain: Don't take my ship away from me. She's all I got. Please, I'm begging you. Now, y-you... you're right. It's been harder on me than I let on, and I lied about everything, and I need help.
Admiral: I hate that I can't tell if this is really you.

Captain: Well, it looks like you are destined to be betrayed by Burnhams in every universe.
Emperor: No. I'm destined to kill you.

Captain: [answering a hail] Admiral Cornwell.
Admiral: I didn't realize you were eating, Captain.
Captain: Excuse the breach of protocol.
Admiral: We just received a distress signal from the planetoid Corvan 2, a mining colony...
Captain: Near the Aneto system. I know it.
Admiral: Sending it through now.
[the message plays]
Admiral: Corvan 2 generates 40% of the Federation's dilithium.
Captain: The pipeline's cut off, that's half the fleet grounded.
Admiral: Klingons ambushed the blockade that was protecting the colony, and now, the closest Federation ship is 84 hours away. Yours is the only ship in the fleet with a chance of getting there on time. Is the Discovery read to jump?
Captain: I told you we'd be ready when you called, and we are. The Discovery's made dozens of small jumps with no issues. We can make it the full distance.
Admiral: You have no doubts?
Captain: None.
Paul: [cut to Engineering] There is no way in hell we'll be ready to jump that far.

Harry: I used to have a life, Captain, a good one. A respectable business. That all got blown up, because of your goddamn war.
Captain: Starfleet didn't start this war.
Harry: Of course you did. The moment you decided to boldly go where no one had gone before. What did you think would happen when you bumped into someone who didn't want you in their front yard?
Ash: You're siding with the enemy?
Harry: I'm not siding with anyone. But I sure as hell understand why the Klingons pushed back. Starfleet arrogance. Have you ever bothered to... look out of your spaceships down at the little guys below? If you had, you'd realize that there's a lot more of us down there than there are you up here. And we're sick and tired of getting caught in your crossfire.

Harry: They may look stupid, our Klingon hosts. They're anything but. They regularly give us the choice to choose our pain. We can accept the beating ourselves or pass it on to our cellmates. It's our captors' way of keeping us from bonding.
Captain: You seem conspicuously free from bruises.
Harry: I've learned how to choose wisely.

Captain: Sometimes the end justifies terrible means.

Captain: Mr. Rhys, can I trouble you to *fire* at something?

Harry: Have you no decency, Lorca? Actually, that was a trick question. I know you don't. We both know you lost that with your last command.
Ash: What's he talking about?
Harry: The tragic tale of the U.S.S. Buran. It was ambushed about a month into the war, the Klingons boarded it and blasted it into smithereens. Only one crewman managed to escape: Gabriel Lorca. Apparently, the honorable Captain was too good to go down with his ship.
Captain: Mudd's only half right. We were ambushed, and I did... escape. But I didn't let my crew die. I blew them up. I knew what awaited them on Qo'noS. Degradation. Torture. Slow, public death. It's the Klingon way to spread terror. Not my crew. Not on my watch.
Harry: Well, they say confession is good for the soul. Too bad none of us have one anymore.

Ash: Thank you, Captain.
Captain: For what? Dragging you back into the war on a ship with a target on its back?
Ash: There's no place I'd rather be.

Captain: No matter how deep in space you are, always feel like you can see home. Don't you think? Maybe it's just me. Forgive the lighting, or lack thereof. Recent battle injury. There's nothing they can do if I wanna keep my own eyes, and I do. I have to suffer light change slowly. I like to think it makes me mysterious. No? Captain Gabriel Lorca. Welcome to Discovery.

Captain: Amazing, isn't it? Different universe, and somehow the same people, had a way to find each other. The strongest argument I have ever seen for the existence of destiny.
Michael: I'm not sure if I believe in destiny.
Captain: Is that so? Sitting in that cell all alone, facing a life sentence of solitude, future full of misery. A little part of you had to know that wasn't the end of your story. You were destined for something more.
Michael: Destiny didn't get me out of prison, Captain. You did that.

Keyla: [as the ship hurls toward the planet] Collision is imminent!
Captain: [authoritatively] Collision is not an option.