The air was cold as Strask climbed out of the cockpit of his Z-95. The planet was nothing like either of his homes, it was colder. Running over the planet's history, he looked for something that could inspire the Bothans here to stand together. Nothing. Ah, well. There was always one thing that he could fall back on.
"Hey, Viceroy! Go home! You're not wanted here!" The separatist movement was gathering in the central area. Worse, some of them seemed to be picking up stones to throw. Standing up on a nearby platform, he yelled to be heard throughout the nigh-empty spaceport.
"Bothans of Kothlos, listen to me! We live in times darker than you realize, and you want to be ALONE! Why? Are you better on your own? Can you support yourself?" Before he could continue, angry shouts came of yes we can, and why wouldn't we, and who does he think he is. Strask raised his hands, hoping for a moment of semi-peace, before continuing. "Have we come down to this, my fellows? Can a divided house stand? I ask you to stay with Bothawui not because of politics, not out of hope for personal gain, but for this reason alone: for the sake of our people." At that, the room went silent. "Are we, Bothans, so low as to need to fight over territory? Over who's in charge? Be glad, rather, that some outsider is not lording over you. What of the Way? We are before all other species, so why must we divide? Can we not stand together as one species, united by our uniqueness? Can we not once again be the species who tore down the Empire with Information? Let us rise again to our former glory!" And with that, he left.
Waiting outside, a grey-furred bothan stood waiting for him. "Borsk Ak'lya, loyalist, at your service, sir." He said, smiling. "You really told them, didn't you?"
"Let's hope they listened."