Follow the Wolves
Join Date: May 2004
Location: between my ears
Current Game: Dead Space
That's where things start to get quite complicated. Although the Twi'leks control the ryll, the Twi'leks also have little in the way of weaponry or defenses. Concerned more with trying to have profitable holds in the Galaxy than defending themselves, the Twi'leks often find themselves dealing with black market runners in exchange for control over the ryll. Although some runners can be controlled with bribes, most runners demand a very different type of payment which is also another large illegal export out of Ryloth: Twi'lek slaves. Renouned for their dancing abilities, beautiful skin tones, and exquisite beauty, young Twi'lek females often bore the brunt of the tradeoff between the runners and the clans. Although males were sometimes sold, they hardly ever fetched the same price since their value was more often measured in hard labor than beauty.
However, contrary to popular opinion, the Twi'leks didn't sell all of their women off to various criminal organizations. The large majority of Twi'leks were married and had a number of offspring that were quite safe from slavery. However, this arose another issue: a class structure within the clans. This structure was fairly similar to what you would probably expect: a lowly working class, a descent middle-class, and the opulent that would flaunt their wealth at will and control the other two classes. The opulent were the clan leaders and formed the basis of individual clan government. That meant that when it came to ryll dealings, they held all the cards while the rest of the Twi'leks would simply be subject to whatever their rulings were.
These dealings, however, led to a growing problem among the lower class. Since the opulent didn't particularly care much for the working class, the offspring of the working class would largely become the source of slaves sold off in the black market. Thus, this often led many working class couples to view their only worth in the form of the work they provided and the ability to breed. It was not uncommon to find pregnant Twi'leks working in the ryll mines or providing services to those that could afford them. It was also not uncommon for a working class woman to birth 9-10 children within 15 years. Since not all Twi'leks were sold as protection for the ryll, these women often hoped that their children would bring them some form of money so they could move up in the social ladder.
And those that managed to survive the slave trade would end up as workers themselves which was getting to be largely male populated recently. Finding an unwed female was very uncommon. Finding an unwed male, on the other hand, was very common. Such was the case with Reeon. "Alright, lets move down to the next one. And somebody please let the foreman know that these darned things need replaced before they kill somebody," Reeon shouted to his team over the noise of the generator.
As the team made their way down the tunnel, Reeon sighed to himself. He was the lone mechanic for this section of the mines, and these machines had been in use for decades. Heck, his father was the one that taught him how to fix most of them. Of course, that's exactly what he was doing now: training. His team was nothing more than two teenagers and a young woman who was recently widowed due to a rare mining accident. If there was one thing the opulent bothered to ensure was safe working conditions to help appease the workers. Of course, this was all the more reason for Reeon to scratch his head and wonder why these ancient generators hadn't been replaced two decades ago. The rest of the mining equipment in his sector was brand new, giving him hours of study time with the various manuels. As they reached the next generator, Reeon expertly scanned the generator for common problem areas.
"Sir, umm, that one's working just fine. Why do are you bothering with this one?" one trainee asked. "Simple: preventative maintenance. If there's one thing you'll learn about this machinery its this: if you can keep it from breaking down, you'll keep everybody happy. If it breaks down, nobody is happy. So, just try to remember what breaks often, where to look for excessive wear, and definately be on the lookout for broken parts that don't appear to be vital. Trust me, if its broke, fix it right away without hesitating. You'd be surprised at how one broken link will literally doom a piece of equipment for the scrap heap."
Reeon decided that the generator was in good condition, so they moved on down to the next generator where Reeon had to start replacing a number of parts.
Quiinzara slowly got up. She had slept quite a bit, but she didn't oversleep. As she looked over at the nightstand, she noticed a stack of credits as well as a small note. She reached over and picked it up, and it read, "I appriciate your work for tonight, and I felt that leaving you to go on your way wasn't quite enough. Please keep these credits for yourself and don't let whomever controls you know about them. Once again, thanks." She quickly counted the credits: 345 credits. Dang, I didn't think he was that rich, she thought. "Well, that was kind of him," Yun stated, startling Quiinzara. "Hey, easy now. I'm not here to hurt you. On the contrary, I'm here to help."
"-am I? My name is Yun Liula, Jedi Knight. I'm here to investigate the problems with prostitution here on Corellia."
"But why? Its a very well established institution."
"Established or not, its illegal. By the way, I don't think I caught your name."
"Oh, well, I'm Eurwallici Quiinzarra. Most people just refer to me as Quiinzarra, though."
"Why your last name?"
"Heh, well that's probably because its easier to pronounce."
"Well, why don't you get into some clothes while I wait outside, okay?"
See the struggle of the faithless lot as they negate their time
How low to sink to the depths of their frame of mind