Bothawui Relations

Started by Syion


Syion landed the Lancer on the Bothawui Cargo Platform, it settling nicely as the technicians scrambled to get to work. He unbuckled his seatbelt, stretching his arms and pushing himself to his feet with a start. The bantha-hide seat had already shown it’s signs of wear, but it remained serving it’s purpose nonetheless. Making his way down the ship’s ladder, he nodded to the Bothan service technicians that began refueling and inspecting the Lancer Class for any signs of critical wear.

His reasons for this run did not stop at cargo. He was here on a diplomatic mission as well, hoping to not only establish ongoing trade routes for the Senate, but to secure relations with the Bothan Council to hopefully take a position as a Senator in the future. Syion had served in political positions before, as any Bothan worth his salt would.

Strolling down the street, Syion had not expected Drev’starm City to have changed in his absence, as short as it had been. He had only returned to the Core worlds for a few months, and now he felt lost in his own home. Familiar landmarks now became foreign, and Syion sighed in frustration. This was surely Fey’lya avenue…wasn’t it?

“Well, well, well. Looks like we found us a rich old man.” A voice echoed behind him. Syion flinched slightly, thieves at a time like this? He stopped in his tracks, leaning slightly over his shoulder to take a brief glance at his attacker. A young Bothan male stood behind him, DH-17 in his hand, and desperate look in his eye. Syion then looked ahead once more, slowly raising his hands beside his head.

“Ye don’t want to do this, Son. Ye can put that blaster down, and ye can walk home today. Or ye can keep walking forward, and one of won’t walk out of here alive. Don’t know which, but one of us won’t.” Syion gave his warning. He needed to buy just enough time, and he had. He dove forward, the shriek of the DH-17 firing behind him and striking the wall. He drew his own scout pistol, adjusting the settings. The mugger had turned violent, and it was Syion’s turn to return the favor. He rolled out from behind cover, firing blindly where the thief stood, either by luck or skill, he struck him twice in the chest, bringing the young Bothan to the ground, stunned.

“Gonna need security at my location. And a ride to the Council Chambers would be nice.” Syion barked into his Comlink. He’d be late to his meeting now, but all the while worth it. Whatever the Council had to say about joining the Senate, he could convince them. No Bothan could deny the lure of politics, and this was the ultimate politic game. With luck, he may even be elected the Senator as he wished.

The steps of the council building were massive, ornately designed marble monoliths compared to the surrounding building’s architecture. Massive marble columns and obsidian tile criss-crossed the interior, this was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful buildings on Bothawui. Syion looked up at the steps, preparing to start his journey up them. Could he stand a chance with the Council?


The beauty of Bothan architecture did not cease once Syion entered the Council Chambers. He had seen this beautiful design before, and knew it well. The high-backed chairs of the Councilors stood high on a tiered level of ornate Bothawui wooden railings. Red carpet surrounded each Councilor's designated seat, and the Councilors themselves were dressed in the utmost finest of linen. Syion Trevian, once considered a traitor to his people, now stood before them asking to represent them in the Galactic Senate. Nearly all of the Councilors knew Syion well, or at the very least knew his story. Some Bothans considered him a hero, and some considered him a traitor. His time in the shadows had served him well, he now was wiser than he had been in those days.

"Syion Trevian, the feared pirate. Your reputation proceeds you. What say you before the Council, Trevian?" Marak Swift, a Councilor for Rhan'starn barked at him. Not a good start to negotiations.

"I am no pirate, nor have I ever been. I served these great Chambers faithfully, and left of my own accord. Ye cannot judge a man for what his actions were during a war. What I did, and who I served, no longer exists. Ye all did yer part. I did mine." Syion's confidence in the matter nearly surprised him as much as Marak. He had only hoped that he would be able to continue. "I look to serve us to that same end, now. Our society is delicate. The Way speaks that each man, and woman, have their own voice. Ye can serve that voice now, just as ye have. But there are still, and always will be, forces that seek to end that way of life. The Senate offers us the opportunity to change that. If we annex to the Senate, we offer ourselves opportunity to keep our tenants of The Way, for all."

The Councilors rumbled, like rolling thunder moving across each seat as they spoke to each other in astonishment. Syion's right hand tightened, squeezing carefully to ensure his tongue remain calm. He had expected issues, but perhaps he should have remembered that the Bothans revered their own species over all others. His own views had changed radically, since his time at war. You can't watch a human die for you and think less of them.

"The Galaxy is fragile, and the Imperium is ending. Without an established Senate, we fall to chaos. The last time chaos took hold in this Galaxy, even Bothawui felt it's sting. Ye can't ignore that. Just listen, and maybe I can prepare us for the future." Syion's confidence had faded, almost retreating like his words. He knew what had to be done, and it was time to end this.

Pushing himself to his feet, he strode carefully around the podium, leaning against it. "We are a proud people. A people who, for far too long, have been quiet. We let the injustices of the Galaxy carry out, with no heed to the consequences that come. If we do not aide in the Senate, we offer ourselves to any enemy willing enough to take us. We may know every move that is made, with our SpyNet. But without the Senate, without me, ye all face sheer defeat from anything that comes. I will protect us. I will build a fleet, one the likes of this Galaxy has never seen. With that fleet, I will build the strongest defense force in the history of the Galaxy. With that force, I will ensure peace, prosperity, and profit spread throughout the worlds. Credits, or better yet, legacy is what follows. Ye all wish to be remembered as the last Councilors of Bothawui? Or do ye wish to be remembered as the Councilors who gave birth to a new era, a Golden Age?" His demeanor had morphed. Syion was no longer merely an old Bothan as he spoke. The young, passionate Admiral had emerged from his depths, and spoke with fevor.

The rumbling conversation of the Council had ceased the moment that Syion rose to his feet. They could not argue against his logic, nor his iron will. Marak, Syion's clear threat, had fallen entirely silent. They had not prepared for such steadfast patriotism from the accused traitor.

"This Council must adjourn, for deliberation is at hand. Trevian, you have given us much to consider. These Chambers will meet again in the morning, the deadline for deliberation will expire by then. Our decision will be revealed to you." The Councilors rose, one by one, to their feet. Somber faces retreated to the deliberation chamber, and Syion himself was surprised. He fell into his chair, a hand involuntary stroking his chin. Had he been successful?