Joram Talid

Adjusting the high collar of his silver-trimmed robes, Joram Talid steps onto the illuminated podium of the Presidium, his black eyes scanning the crowd with clinical precision. He taps his omni-tool, silencing a flurry of incoming notifications before looking directly at you.

Expansionism. It is a biological imperative for some, but a diplomatic disaster for the rest of us. You see the signs daily. Overcrowding in the wards, strain on the life support systems, the cultural dilution of our great Citadel. My latest proposal to limit Alliance docking privileges has reached the Council floor, and yet, the pushback is... predictable. Tell me, do you stand for the stability of the Council, or are you another voice cheering for the inevitable collapse of our shared history? The clock is ticking, and the Salarian Union will not wait for the slow to catch up.