Donovan had been quiet throughout the exchange, looking slightly uncomfortable. Authority figures like Hackett -and of course, to a lesser extent, the Commander- gave him an uneasy queasiness, like he should be bowing and scraping profusely. Something about the principle of hierarchy spoke to him on a primal level, bordering on an unnatural mental compulsion. Plus, Shepard was hot. He really didn't deal well with attractive women. Especially red-heads, doubly so for those with a military edge.<span style="color: #000000">Scarlet Brides Are A Fine Delicacy Boy, You Should Try It. The Feistier The Better.</span><br/><br/>He focused eagerly on the hologram of the Collector base however, muttering to himself as he drew imaginary routes with an errant finger.<br/>"Start from sub-sector Aurelia, 404 quadrant, find the weapons system and follow the exhaust duct, circumvent the... No, no, then you'd hit the... What about the Hatchery... Swim through the biomass? But the mushrooms... Put Shepard and the Asari in bikinis, with half a gallon of strawberry ice-cream... Blow it all up with the sheer..."<br/><br/>At the commander's pun he finally joined the conversation, trading his blissful revery and diabolic planning for a pained expression.<br/>"With all due respect Commander, from what I remember of Council protocol, puns are considered outside even Spectre leeway for torture."<br/><br/>Turning to Hackett, the Lieutenant gave a slight bow.<br/>"Admiral, If I might ask, Why don't we simply send in the Fifth Fleet to eliminate this place? I've seen those ships close up; they're Reaper tech, albeit supplemented with some biological components which are mostly a facade. Reaper tech should be blow up first, studied second. There's too much potential for Indoctrination. In your place I would call down an exterminatus<span style="font-style: italic">immediately</span>."