The Turian Succession Crisis: Much Worse Than You Think
Anyone whose paid even passing attention to the news over the past months has no doubt noticed the near-constant coverage of the turian succession crisis. In a galaxy filled with massive, civilization-defining disasters -the human-batarian war, the ongoing economic collapse, the Great Asari Conspiracy, and the increasingly cryptic diplomatic communications of the salarians, to name only a few - it may seem to be only one of many fires raging. However, this particular fire is a far greater threat than many realize.
Indeed, many don't truly understand why this event is actually happening. Most are aware of the terrorist bombing on Palaven that killed an enormous gathering of turian and volus government officials. While this bombing accomplished a great deal of mayhem on its own, it was not this single act that caused the current crisis. The Turian Hiearchy is, after all, renowned for its extensive continuity of government plans and rigid, straightforward succession. However, the bomb was not alone. Many more bombings across every significant turian colony occurred near simultaneously, effectively achieving the same decapitation of government on the cluster and colony level as was achieved at the level of the Hierarchy itself. This was also accompanied by a wave of assassinations, either through conventional means or through other, lesser bombings. These served to effectively exterminate the entire higher leadership class of the Turian Hierarchy. From the sheer level of coordination in these violent acts, there can be no doubt that this was not the random acts of separate terrorist cells, but a carefully planned and organized attempt to completely decapitate the Hierarchy government. Who has done this, why they did it, and how they managed to penetrate the turian government, military, and civilian apparatus to such an exceptional degree are questions that turian internal security has been attempting to answer in these past weeks. However, their leadership was no less devastated than any other government organ, and so their efforts have been severely disorganized and unfocused.
Even in a succession system as robust and extensive as the Hierarchy's, a situation such as this creates a terrible power vacuum. However, in this absolute worst case scenario that the Hierarchy has found itself in, many still assumed that the odds of any serious dispute or violent conflict were low. While a slew of midlevel bureaucrats, surviving colonial governors, and lower ranking military officers have come forward throughout the course of the crisis, making claims either to the Primarchy within their own cluster or even claims upon the Primarchy of Palaven itself, disagreements over the transition of power were, while far from pleasant, peaceful. For a time it seemed that what was left of the Hierarchy apparatus of state would manage to pick up the pieces, but then a new claimant revealed himself.
Several weeks into the crisis, Admiral Yalleet Cran was revealed to have survived the terrible purge of the Hierarchy's leadership. Admiral Cran laid claim to the Primarchy of Palaven soon after he revealed himself. As far as any observers, both internal and external, are able to discern, he is indeed the highest ranking officer of the turian Hierarchy currently alive, and is thus -at face value at least- the lawful Primarch of Palaven. However, this claim was disputed by many of the previous claimants. Ironically, Admiral Cran's appearance caused them to cease their infighting and rally around a claimant to Palaven of their own: Hessient Frenarian. Information on Frenarian's past is spotty, but what is known is that she was a colonial administrator and a minor figure in her cluster's politics before the bombings. How she rose to prominence among the opposition has yet to be clearly documented, but her and her supporters have made the claim that Admiral Cran is not a legitimate candidate for succession, on the grounds of his suspension by the Hierarchy Naval High Command a few months before the start of the crisis. While the High Command never gave any official reason for Cran's suspension, rumors have speculated that his alleged membership in the infamous Coalition for Turian Primacy - a political group advocating for greater turian influence in Citadel politics that many suspect of being a turian supremacist group - may have been part of the High Command's motivation.
While there is little hard evidence to any of these claims, Cran has long been in the public eye for his - in the view of many turians - excessive amount of media appearances and frequent accusations of reciting xenophobic rhetoric. For this reason, most experts on turian politics have speculated that the suspension is merely a pretense, and the true reason so many oppose his ascension is his politics rather than his service record. To many, this may seem to be a relatively mundane event, given the circumstances, but any who have studied post-council turian history and politics are considerably more worried by these happenings. While the turian government has consistently been a strong advocate for cooperation and stalwart supporter of the Citadel Council and its principles, there has always been a significant political minority within turian society who have taken issue with the Council. Reasons are many and vary from concerns over dependence on foreign trade, to distaste at how much of the security responsibilities the Hiearchy shoulders, to outright xenophobes who resent sharing power with aliens.
What this means for the current crisis is that Frenarian and her supporters have, intentionally or unintentionally, drawn an ideological line in the sand within turian society. One one side, Frenarian and her supporters sit, representing the status quo of cooperation via the Citadel Council that has ruled the Hierarchy since the krogan rebellions. On the other, an alliance of the opposition and malcontents that have existed for centuries within turian society finally have a leader in the form of Cran. With trust in the Council at an all time low galaxy-wide, Cran has found a much greater base of support than he ever could have ever had previously. Cran himself seems to be aware of the ideological nature the succession crisis has now taken on, and has toured the Hierarchy, holding rallies and making media appearances where he has laid out his ideology clearly. In a recent speech given in the ancient city of Ganine on Palaven, Cran lambasted the Citadel, accusing it of ineptitude and outright negligence due to its failure to prevent the ongoing crises ravaging the galaxy and its economy. His ideology is best summarized in his own words, taken from this speech:
"After our great victory over the krogan in their Rebellions, rather than continue to shape and mold our civilization in our image as we had for the past five thousand years, we instead, in our folly, joined ourselves in union with our allies. We spread out arms wide open, welcoming the rest of the galaxy into our culture, our relgions, our society, and contented ourselves to share power and influence with our supposed 'friends. And so, I must ask, what have we gotten out of this? 'A thousand years of peace', some will say. Can the galaxy truly be said to be at peace with the anarchic state of the Terminus, the constant provocations and violence of the batarians -even before current events-, or the thriving criminal underworld the Council willingly allows to exist? 'They gave us economic prosperity.', others will say. To which I must ask, how can one look outside their window, view the collapse caused by the festering wound of conspiracy, lies, and corruption that has permeated our society in the wake of our centuries of union with the Citadel, and dub it 'prosperity'?"
"We have spent over a thousand years in union with the Citadel, with this to show for it. In the face of that, I must pose another question. What if we had done it differently? What if, instead of surrendering our civilization into the whims of others, we retained our freedom and independence? What if we had continued holding it in our own two hands? Do you think that the Hierarchy from a thousand years ago would have allowed the Terminus to decay into the sorry den of misery and evil that it is today? Do you think the Hierarchy of a thousand years ago would have sat on its hands and watched while the batarians raped, pillaged, and enslaved their way through the Attican traverse, or sat back on watched as a brand new species was crushed under their boot? Do we think that the officers of this ancient Hierarchy would have been susceptible to bribery and joined with a corrupt asari in her web of conspiracy and deceit? The answer is obvious: not a chance. And so, it must be said, that there is one key difference that divides that noble ancient Hierarchy from the sad state we live under today. One primary factor differentiates us from our exalted past. The alien factor."
When such rhetoric becomes mainstream within the context of the heightened tensions of the times we live in, it perhaps becomes easier to understand why so many experts and government officials throughout the galaxy are looking at this crisis with far greater scrutiny than any of the others.
About the author
Unari G'senn is an independent journalist with over three centuries of journalism experience with a focus on covering the internal politics of Citadel species and writing of them for a wider galactic audience. She has received many accolades and famously exposed the Erros Mining Conglomerates safety negligence scandal. She lives with her bondmate and their three daughters in their country home on Lusia.
The weary human eyes that had been reading the article gave a few tired blinks as their owner realized he had reached the end. It was only one of many such articles that Senior Diplomat Juan-Carlos Torres had read. And, like all the others, it painted a clear picture: He was flying into a shitstorm. The turians had been one of the more outspoken in their condemnations of the Hegemony, and there was a brief time where intervention seemed conceivable. Then their entire government got decapitated, and those hopes were dashed. Both sides of the current iteration of the struggle had maintained the condemnation of the batarian actions from the previous government, but neither had taken any action or made any promises of actual substance. With more fleets, armies, and colonies declaring themselves for one side or the other every day, civil war had gone from being an improbable worst case scenario to being the seemingly inevitable endpoint of the crisis. In those circumstances, few in the UN had expected any real contact from the turians, including Juan-Carlos.
Which is why when the acting Primarch of a remote turian colonial cluster had requested that the UN send them an emissary, it had been something of a shock. The Diplomatic Office had hastily scraped together a diplomatic mission under Juan-Carlos, stuffed them into a cruiser, and sent them to the cluster at best possible speed. Juan-Carlos had spent most of the journey giving himself a crash course on turian history, culture, politics, and the details of the current crisis. He still felt like a school kid giving a report on a book he hadn't read, but it was the best he could do on such short notice.
The ship had dropped out of FTL some time ago, and Juan-Carlos had been killing time during the handful of hours needed for the ship to make its way through the star system to the turian colony. He was considering going to grab a bite to eat when he was surprised by the ship's commander contacting him on his terminal.
He walked over to it and answered the call. "What can I do for you, Major?"
Major Zuri wore her usual dour expression, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "Sir, a turian ship has approached and is attempting to contact us."
He furrowed his brow. "What did they say?"
Major Zuri's expression hardened. "That's the thing, my comms tech is still translating it. Because they sent it in morse code."
Juan-Carlos's eyebrows shot up at that. Morse code was common knowledge amongst most human spacers, with its primary use in the modern era being as an emergency analogue backup to conventional communications. With how much publicly available information about humanity was spilling over the border, it wasn't inconceivable that aliens would know of this language. The much more baffling question was why they would even use it.
"I'm coming to the CIC, Major."
"Understood."
Juan-Carlos made his way to the CIC, and Major Zuri greeted him.
"Perfect timing, my comms tech has deciphered their message. Give him the jist of it, Astronaut."
The young man nodded. "They start off with some abbreviated greetings, and then start requesting that we send our emissary over to meet with them on their ship, but they heavily emphasize that - for 'security reasons' - no electronics, computers, or communications devices be brought aboard. Bring as many guards as you like, but they are only permitted to be armed if their weapons and armor have any and all electronics and computer systems removed from them. They also request that our ship not open any incoming communications packets we receive for the remainder of the meeting."
Juan-Carlos and Major Zuri shared a mutual What the hell? glance.
She shook her head. "This has trap written all over it. Cut us off from communication with you, tell us we're not supposed to talk with anyone else..."
Juan-Carlos shook his head. "No, I don't think so. What possible purpose would setting a trap here serve? This is way too elaborate. They're doing this for a reason, and I intend to find out what that reason is."
Major Zuri was not happy. "These demands are excessive. Hell, we won't even have a way to record what happened!"
Juan-Carlos surprised both the Major and the comms tech when he grinned upon hearing that. "Well, that's not strictly true."
Juan-Carlos stepped through the airlock, a pair of Rangers in their dress uniforms - hand picked because of their lack of any kind of implants - and carrying handguns with their integrated computers stripped out walking behind him. A decontamination field passed over them, and then a voice spoke to them over the airlock's intercom.
"Greetings, I am Jallus Veen, acting Primarch of the Maenus cluster. While I appreciate your obvious efforts to conform to our requested security procedures, I must respectfully ask what devices are being by powered by the four batteries we have detected in our scans. Two of them are obviously for your guards' weapons, but please explain the other two."
Juan-Carlos took a deep breath. He looked where he guessed the camera was and tapped his chest. "I have a cardiac implant, a pacemaker. And I have also brought this device for record keeping."
He held up the device in question: an antique tape recorder, which was already recording. His grandfather had gifted it to him when he retired, claiming he'd used it to record notes during his service in the Spanish Foreign Ministry. Juan-Carlos carried it as a good luck charm. While he kept a fresh supply of archaic cassette tapes on hand and very occasionally used it to record his notes for the novelty of it, he'd never expected it to actually be useful.
"It's an antique device. All it does is record sound onto a magnetic medium. It is not capable of connecting to any kind of computer network, and neither is my implant...and if my hunch is correct, then that's what you're really concerned about, isn't it?"
There was a silence that stretched just long enough for it to become concerning, before the airlock door suddenly slid open, and a tall turian with grey skin walked in, followed by guards of his own.
"A very astute guess. Both of those devices are permissible."
He extended a hand, and Juan-Carlos took it. "I understand that this is the custom for greetings amongst your kind. You already know that I am Jallus Veen. May I know your name?"
Juan-Carlos shook his hand. "Juan-Carlos Torres, emissary of the United Nations. At the risk of skipping pleasantries, I must ask: For what purpose have these security measures been put in place."
The turian gestured. "Walk with me?"
Juan-Carlos obliged, and Jallus explained. "These security measures are necessary because recent events have made it clear that the entirety of the Hiearchy is compromised, both in terms of its personnel and in terms of its computer systems. We cannot risk exposing your computer systems to any of our technology, for fear of any malicious software they carry infecting you."
"When you say 'compromised' I'm assuming you're referring to the bombings, I'm assuming?" Juan-Carlos said.
"The bombings and assassinations themselves are the focus of most people, understandably so. But their implications are for more dire."
He led the humans into a room, and gestured to a set of tables and chairs where they could sit, then took his own seat across from the humans.
"Think about it: thousands of bombings and assassinations, with effectively a one hundred percent success rate. Consider the level of penetration into our security network required to achieve these results. Think on it, and perhaps you can understand my paranoia. If we take it to a logical extent, then that means there a single person or computer system that can be regarded as fully trustworthy within the entirety of the Hierarchy, and frankly, within the galaxy. Because if whoever did this was able to infiltrate us to this extreme of an extent, there's no guarantee that they haven't done it elsewhere."
He looked Juan-Carlos in the eyes. "Your people are brand-new to the wider galaxy. That makes you the closest thing to a trustworthy species that currently exists, at least with regards to whether or not you've been infiltrated. I'm sympathetic to your plight, but in truth I have to confess: I've contacted you because I need your help, more than because you need mine."
Juan-Carlos took a few moments to process the terrifying things his alien host had just said to him and focused on what he was here to do: negotiate.
"What would you have us do?"
"The only way to be absolutely certain that our computer systems can be trusted again is by ripping them out entirely and replacing them with brand new equipment. The problem is that there isn't a single turian, salarian, asari, or other species that can be trusted to not be an agent of our unknown enemy. Except for you humans. I want you to completely replace every single computer in this sector with equipment built to our specifications in your own factories. You can start with the nine hundred war ships that make up this cluster's naval detachment, after which they will be put under your command to use in your war effort. The details of how we'll go from there can be hashed out later."
Juan-Carlos coughed in shock. "...Forgive me for saying so, but this is...highly unusual. You're essentially telling me that you're going to willingly leave this entire cluster's defense force in our hands. I hope you can understand why I might find that difficult to believe."
Jallus gave an almost hysterical laugh. "You still don't get it, do you? We were the most powerful civilization in the galaxy, and in the span of a few hours someone managed to bring us to our knees, to the brink of civil war, and they did it without leaving a shred of evidence. If anything, I'm underreacting. And if you find it difficult to believe I'd hand our ships over, then you will likely find it even more difficult to believe when I tell you that once you've finished replacing our network and communications infrastructure, I intend to have you be managing it. Because, remember, none of my people can be truly trusted."
"Have you brought these concerns up to anyone else within the Hierarchy?"
Jallus scoffed. "I did, at first, when things were at their most chaotic, but no one was interested in listening to me. And, frankly, these two new claimants are too suspicious for me to ever try bringing my concerns to them. Especially this Cran character. Our entire higher leadership is effectively annihilated in its entirety, and somehow he, of all people, manages to survive purely through luck? Yeah, sure."
He put his arms on the table and leaned forward. "Look, hum-er Juan-Carlos, understand that I'm not doing this because I want to. If you'd asked me a few months ago what I thought about the idea of handing over the keys to an entire cluster's defense grid to an alien species, I'd have told you that it was treason. But I was just a Fleet Captain then, and the Hierarchy still had a government then. I'm just some fleet officer who got roped into doing this job, with my only qualifications being that I was the highest ranking person to survive this cluster's bombings. I'm nobody special, so why is it that I seem to be one of the only turians in any position of authority who grasps the full extent of the implications of what just happens? That, that scares me more than the bombings, or even the infiltrations themselves. The fact that we're asking so few questions about it is more terrifying than the rachni, krogan, and batarians combined."
"I'm doing this in the faint hope that I can lash my people to the last uncorrupted scrap of civilization left in this galaxy, so that at least a fragment of turian civilization can survive whatever nightmare is in store for us in the future - and mark my words, there's no spirits-damned way that this is the end of it."
He let out a breath, happy to have that particular weight off of his chest.
Juan-Carlos cleared his throat. "...Well, then. Shall we discuss terms?"
Hey there, the purpose of this chapter was to give the UN another ally, and to explore the turian shitfest in detail, which as you read resulted in me exploring the horrifying ramifications of it much more than I have previously. As always, thank you very much for reading!
