Hackett cleared his throat before speaking. 'While I'd normally agree with you, there are a number of issues with simply annihilating the site from space.' He gestured to the hologram in the room's center. 'The station lies in the middle of the galaxy's biggest debris field. Asteroids, shipwrecks, probably a few Prothean mine clusters here and there as well. There's also the fact that it's located in the galactic center. That means it's sitting among a cluster of supermassive black holes--the ones around which the galaxy's arms orbit.'<br/><br/>'In short,' Shepard piped up, 'We couldn't fit the Fifth Fleet in there no matter how hard we tried. What this op needs is a stealthy insertion. An assault force would just end up hulling itself on the debris and getting shot down by the station defenses. With the<span style="font-style: italic">Normandy</span>, we have a decent chance of getting close without too many losses.<br/><br/>'Oh, and Lieutenant Esone, I'm pretty sure puns are kosher in the Spectre handbook. After all, we're<span style="font-style: italic">pun</span>restrained by galactic law. Sometimes we have to work above the rules. Sort of like the Pun-isher.'<br/><br/>That actually physically hurt John. 'Commander, that was bad and you should feel bad.'<br/><br/>'Punimpressed, John?'<br/><br/>'Hurk. That hurts me, Shepard. You might have to call a pundertaker.'<br/><br/>She snorted. 'Yeah, you probably look like you've had enough pain for the day. Get down to sickbay. I'll have your gear patched up in the mean time. Don't die down there. Wouldn't want to pay for punitive damages.' She gave him a light punch on the shoulder. Oh sweet Jesus Quintana, that hurt.<br/><br/>Hackett facepalmed. An ensign slammed his head against his console with a muffled thump. John left before Shepard could crack yet more awful puns. If blood loss didn't kill him, her sense of humor certainly would. He almost pitied the other Exalt as he hit the Door Close button. Almost.