The theme of wood, water, and history continued into the center of the humans' seat of rule, lending the place a sombre dignity with an undercurrent of power. Like Garrus' own councils' chambers, this place had been designed to be its own last line of defence. The split walkways, rising stairs and multiple levels provided defenders plenty of choke-points and fallbacks, and the sniper in Garrus picked out half a dozen very attractive perches along an upper level walkway. Some of which were already occupied by humans. From that upper level hung simple but elegant cloth banners, uniform in shape but each one different in motif. Some of the few he could spot without swinging his head around too much had star constellations in them. Alliance member banners, probably.

There were a lot of them. Did each represent a nation or a colony world? He itched to start recording with his visor for future reference; they were far too numerous for him to memorise. But he did have some sense of what not to do to mess this up – recording, even just their publicly displayed banners, could easily be interpreted as spying.

The defendable layout aside, Commander Shepard seemed to know her way around, easily leading them up the stairs and through the choke points. As they scaled the final set of stairs and came to the chamber proper, high and wide and impressive, there was also a suspiciously empty space among the banners not too far from the center, behind the podium dominating the far end of the grand room. A defector faction? Cerberus perhaps?

The Admiralty Board seemed to be already holding a session; there were a number of humans milling about, wearing soft cloth uniforms rather than the combat hardsuits Shepard and her crew wore.

The five members of the board looked as sombre and dignified as Garrus had expected, same dark blue uniforms with golden highlights, probably rank or status insignia of some kind. Aside from some lines in their faces and paleness of their hair, he couldn't see anything in particular setting them apart from the other humans he'd seen in appearance. Were these old humans? Except for the one on the outer corner.

They were speaking with someone already at the center of the floor - he noted the distinct lack of chairs, likely on purpose - giving him a moment to surreptitiously look around without appearing to be gawking. If he wasn't concerned with appearances he would be examining the room in detail – but a Spectre of the Citadel Council couldn't afford to look like a kid at the amusement faire.

In contrast, their four-person entourage weren't attracting attention – well, they were, but it wasn't the kind of, 'Hey come look at the weird alien' attention he'd anticipated.

Not even a sense of the buzz that they'd been expecting someone important. Were they suppressing the need for aid? Did he need to take that into account?

Shepard nodded at him, speaking quietly. "Allow me to introduce to you my bosses, the Systems Alliance Admiralty Board. The one in the middle is Admiral Anderson, he's the chairman. On his left is Admiral Hackett, he's the one in charge of external fleet operations. When we go to war, he's the one who'll be commanding the fleet."

The one she'd been bluffing about. Garrus nodded.

"Then there's Admiral Mikhailovich of home fleet, Admiral Sanders of R&D, and..." She trailed off, glancing at her XO. "Kaidan, do you recognise the last one?"

The one Garrus had thought didn't look as aged as the others.

"Captain Parasini. She's the acting head of Intel division."

"What's she doing sitting in for Admiral Kahoku?"

"Kahoku flushed out a pair of Cerberus infiltrators a few weeks ago. He vanished the day before we left. I think we can guess."

"...damn."

Interesting. And worrying.

And then the center floor cleared, and Shepard nudged him to follow her forward, into the waiting gaze of her admirals.

This was it. This was what he had come here to do. Talk to these humans, ask them for help – beg them if necessary. Their stares were expectant, but unimpressed. They had no appreciation of the turians having provided the backbone of defence to civilised space for several millennia, no insight into the stabilising effect Spectres had for all of the galaxy. No shared history, no shared experiences, which led to no shared understanding. He was just an alien to them. And the future of his people hung in the balance.

No pressure, Garrus.

He took out his datapad, looked at the first lines he'd written...

...and decided it was all crap, again. Maybe he could try to talk to them like he did his own council? He had plenty of practice doing that. They were usually completely unimpressed by his attempts at rousing oration, but somehow he generally managed to make his point with them.

It would probably make quite a first impression, considering his talent for exasperating them.

They should have sent a diplomat. At least the humans would be eating someone else alive instead of me.

He drew a breath.

Palaven depends on you.

"Honoured leaders of the Systems Alliance, on behalf of the Citadel Council, I thank you for agreeing to see me. I'm Garrus Vakarian, special tactics and recon. I've come to ask you to hear the Citadel Council's request for your aid."

Dry, formal, to the point. His father would've been proud.

The human in the middle of the podium leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. "I understand you want to barter for the assistance of our fleets."

...oh. That worked, too. Though he wished he hadn't used 'barter' that way, but Garrus reminded himself to not get stuck on individual words while using an uncertified translator.

"Yes, Admiral. We're in a bit of a bind," No, Garrus, too informal. "We're under attack from an invading force, who'll soon reach our homeworld. They're ruthless, and they're not attacking us because we are a threat to them; they're attacking us for something our ancestors did, thousands of years ago. They won't settle for neutralising us, they'll annihilate us if they can. The losses will be horrible. Our fleet won't be able to stop them."

He was fairly sure by now the humans didn't see the concepts of acceptable losses and proportional response to a threat quite the way his people did, but he still needed them to understand it wasn't losing a battle or a war he was concerned about; it was losing his civilisation as a whole, who were the native species to the world being fought over. Could be an important distinction. "We need your help."

They exchanged looks between each other - no surprises about his request, alright. It was the human woman on the end of the board who spoke. "We'll need to know more."

"Of course." He outlined the situation in broad strokes. The genophage, the completely unexpected cure whose origins were still unknown. The unification of the Krogan Clans, and the retaliatory war that was now threatening to look like a massacre - though he assumed the Council wouldn't want him to make the Citadel defence force look too weak and tried to play that aspect down. But he didn't mince words about the Krogan fleets heading for Palaven. If they were going to agree to help, they needed to know what they were getting into.

When he got to the part about the compensation his people were willing to offer, Shepard transferred the list he'd showed her to the admirals, who... glanced at it.

"Can your people still provide us compensation?" the one Shepard had called Mikhailovich asked. "Seems to me if your worlds are falling to the Krogan forces, we should be in negotiations with them instead."

An argument he'd prepared for. "The Krogan aren't interested in negotiations, not from their position of power." And not on a normal day, either. "For now, they're focusing their attention on military targets," because they really wanted revenge, and the Hierarchy forces stood in their way of getting it. "It's only without aid we would lose the ability to compensate you duly."

Garrus considered for a moment. Time to put things on the table. "In addition to the list you've been given, maybe we can help you. I understand from what I've gleaned of your current situation," of course, saying he knew they were in deep shit might have been a bad idea. Well, too late to back out now, "that you're low on food supplies. My people's allies are capable of fielding large quantities of aid to disaster areas. They wouldn't turn down a genuine request."

Famine was nearly unheard of in the Asari Republics. Whatever else you thought about their tight grip on Citadel's economy, there was always that.

Captain Parasini's voice was dry. "With respect to your generous offer, we're not in need of humanitarian aid that can later be withdrawn to influence us."

That was a little too prescient for Garrus tastes.

Parasini continued, "Perhaps when our peoples have had more history together we can discuss longer-term trade agreements. But at this point, it's in our interests the compensations we're provided are tangible and more permanent in nature, with a clear ownership change. I'm sure you can understand our position."

"Yes, Captain."

"Which is why we wish ownership of these three star systems." She keyed her console and displayed a galaxy map of the border systems between Citadel Space and the Attican Traverse.

He was glad he'd taken the time to talk to Shepard - he was really glad Shepard had prepared him for the request for a garden world; he wasn't sure he could've kept a neutral face to their upfront demand. Three systems, not just one world. Not surprising - ask for more than you need, settle for what you do. Common negotiating tactic. But a little hard to stomach all the same.

"It's... a big request," he said. "But I'm certain the Council can provide you with one, at the very least." At least he hoped so. He didn't see how he could not agree to that, the clock was ticking. Agree now, let the Council ream him out later if it turned out he'd overstepped his bounds.

"In addition," Admiral Anderson said, hands still interlocked in front of him, speaking smoothly, "The deployment of our fleets is going to cause a lot of ripples in the political landscape." He wasn't exaggerating about that, Garrus thought. "To make our transition into Citadel space and politics easier, we would like an embassy on the Citadel, as soon as one can be effectively established."

"That can be arranged," Garrus said, glad there was something he could agree to easier. The Council liked having embassies to the extended Citadel charter signatories, territories and protectorates. It gave them something to withdraw when species made mistakes, like the quarians, and someone to nag when they were up to no good, like the batarians.

"Excellent. Captain Parasini, anything else?"

"No, Admiral. I believe this compensation, with one garden-world system, should suffice."

Garrus blinked. That easy?

"Good. Admiral Hackett?" The chairman turned to his colleague. "Your assessment? Can we provide the help they need?"

He'd expected to haggle for quite a while. What?

He had to force his mind to listen to Admiral Hackett instead of chasing the surprise.

"We can't afford to take more than Fifth fleet, not after Shepard stirred the hornet's nest. If either Cerberus or Udina realise we have committed significant forces elsewhere, they will not waste the opportunity."

"We can't afford anything but clear victory, either," Admiral Anderson said, turning to Garrus. "How accurate are your estimates of the enemies forces? Without the (warble), please. We need accurate numbers to protect both our peoples."

"As accurate as they can be, you have my word. I have been out of contact with my superiors since my mission began, and lines of communication were breaking down even before I left, but it's unlikely the Krogan have received reinforcements in significant quantities. They're in this all or nothing."

The biggest possible change was to the size of the Hierarchy fleet. Recall orders had gone out to every ship, but the brutal speed of the war hadn't afforded the task groups that were several weeks out of port enough time to return to the nearest relay chain. And the remaining shipyards were churning out ships as fast as they could, but were limited by the resources.

"How much help can your other Citadel allies be expected to provide?"

"Not much. The war is making waves, the other Council members can't afford to leave the Citadel or their respective worlds undefended." The Salarian Union in particular was being reluctant to release ships from Sur'Kesh's system, fearing perhaps being the target of a blitz attack. Unless Garrus was missing his mark, there was friction in the Council over the divided fleets - but that was a problem far above his paygrade.

"I see. I understand your military is the most vital part of the Citadel's defences, without it, the Citadel is vulnerable?"

"Yes, we're the main peacekeeping force." A failure that was going to be recorded in history and debated among historians for a very long time forward. Garrus had his own theories of what had gone wrong - who didn't? - but none worth sharing while the Krogan fleets were approaching his homeworld. Later, maybe.

Admiral Hackett was silent, reading the console in front of him. At length, he nodded. "We can do it."

Admiral Anderson put it to the vote, that was short and to the point; five in favour. Garrus exhaled, a mountain of stones falling off his back.

I did it.

"Thank you, on behalf of the Hierarchy, and the Citadel Council." Was his voice trembling? He didn't think so. That had been much easier than he'd thought.

"I'll need a few hours to mobilise the fleet," Hackett said and stood, leaving with some of the people who'd been watching the proceedings. Garrus mourned the lack of nearby chairs and spent a quiet moment alone in his mind, wondering what he was going to do with the sudden release of tension. At his side, Shepard gave him a quiet, bolstering nod.

"Just one more thing while you're here, Shepard," Admiral Anderson said as the crowd had mostly dispersed, getting her attention. "We need to discuss the loss of the Normandy."

The smile she worked up looked fake even to Garrus. "Yes, sir."

He was about to open his mouth and say something about how the Hierarchy appreciated the sacrifice on their behalf, when someone tapped Garrus on the shoulder. He turned to Vega, who was pointing at the exit with a thumb. "How 'bout you and me wait outside?"

It took more effort than it should have for Garrus to follow him.