Post by Kaziki Halcyon on Oct 23, 2012 6:21:35 GMT -8
It went without saying, particularly as a blaster bolt vaporized a chunk of rock a foot or so to his left, that Kaz didn't particularly care for the practice of slavery. No Jedi did. It deprived a being of their most basic of rights, the right to self-determination. That was anathema to the generally freedom oriented philosophy of the light side of the Force. A Jedi didn't seek control over others and thus had no use for slavery. There were, however, perks to that particular outlook not being shared by the entirety of the galaxy.
The practice of slavery, in general, was a dirty business. It's victims had to be useful for something but no so capable that they could resist the enslavement in the first place or cause real trouble for their future masters. That meant strong bodies meant for unskilled labor, or skills of a non-threatening sort. In the case of Ryloth that usually meant pretty, graceful, and easily bullied into submission. Twi-lek dancers, both legitimately hired and illegally enslaved, were a hot commodity for the planet's shady dealers of flesh. A Twi-lek slave-girl was a symbol of some status among criminals of both the public and private sectors. The process, by necessity, was a refined one however.
Unlike more standardized slavery, a certain amount of investment had to be inherent in the product. One couldn't just snatch a random female from the tunnels, slap her in a dancer's costume, and shove her at the nearest space pirate with a tencred on him. One could find that sort of thing anywhere, Kaz mused to himself as he danced around an enforcer with a vibroknife. No, Twi-lek slave girls had to be skilled at dancing. It was practically an unspoken guarantee every time some good decided he wanted one that she was going to be a good dancer, beautiful, and usually docile. That meant she had to be healthy, cared for, and educated in the required skill set. That meant, in simplest terms, resources.
Those resources cost money and took the form of upkeep. They couldn't be beaten... at least not traditionally, for fear of marking one permenantly (and thus destroying the investment), they had to be kept in sanitary conditions that, again, would not mark them, and they had to have proper medical treatment for any injury they might suffer, accidental or inflicted. Money and medicine. Two things the young, renewed Jedi Order could definitely make use of. Two things that, along with the slaves themselves, the slavers were very dedicated to protecting. Two things that, together with the slaves themselves, Kaz had decided to liberate from one unfortunate slave ring.
And it had been a brilliant plan, if he did say so himself, particularly for its simplicity. Kaz had, for lack of a better term, assaulted the organization's stronghold in classic, foolish, Jedi style. Head on and through the front door until resistance had grown particularly stiff, at which point Kaz had carefully performed a fighting withdrawal in an attempt to make it appear as if he was being beaten back by a superior foe. Just like in any other illusion, he'd shown his opponent what they wanted to see, kept their attention on an unimportant or preferred detail, while the practical elements of the trick took place somewhere else. The tactic had backed Kaz out into the tunnels of the community, his slowly being driven back giving any innocent citizens all the time in the galaxy to find someplace safe to take cover.
While all eyes, and blasters apparently as Kaz once again found himself relying heavily on his mother's Form V training to deflect bolts back at a knot of shooters, the stronghold itself had been overcome by a trio of Antarian Rangers who then forced the survivors to load up the medical supplies, transfer credits, and release their slaves. The freed slaves gladly volunteered to watch over their former captors while the Antarian's made their escape. The Rangers sent the signal that they were away and Kaz grinned fiercely. It was time to make his opponents a bit hesitant to get back into their old line of work.
The illusions joined the battlefield. Glimpses of lightsabers ambushing from the flanks, a growing sense of dread encouraged by a few gentle pushes in the Force, and any being strong willed enough to resist these distractions finding themselves faced with a real live Jedi there to remove their weapons and maybe a few fingers along with them if they weren't quick enough to relinquish their grips. Slavers, and criminals in general, were bullies. And just like bullies, once the panic set in and the retreat began it was all it took for even the toughest of them to choose descretion as the better part of valor.
Kaz withdrew from the battlefield, confident that when the slavers arrived at their base to find it locked tight and occupied by freed and armed slaves that they would be all too willing to surrender to the community law enforcers without much of a fight. The Corellian Jedi used a few more minor tricks to make his way past those same law enforcement personell and to his ride off the planet, peacefully bypassing the blockades that had been set up to keep the blaster battle from reaching more populated areas.
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Kaziki Halcyon entered the landing bay with his usual amused smile firmly in place, his hood down, and a little pep in his step from the excess adrenaline he was using the Force to let himself off of slowly to prevent the shakes. "Sir, we have everything loaded but... it wasn't a very big haul," the young apprentice ranger, a human female of roughly Kaz's age came jogging over from her watch out position. "It wasn't a very big group we hit," Kaz offered in return. "Low risk almost always means low reward, particularly when it comes to criminals. Still, for roughly an hour's work I'm willing to bed we made out better than if we'd all gotten part-time jobs at the local eateries."
The girl chuckled. "That's definitely true. The supplies will outfit a unit's worth of medics for a month or so of good operations or a couple three bad ones. The money can buy a good amount more though." Kaz merely nodded back to her. Chances were the medical materials would go to the Jedi themselves, there weren't enough for it to stretch out any other way. There were already endeavors in place to supply the common soldiers that had been brought to the banner so far. The real benefit of the operation had been funneling those supplies and the credits into the more secretive operations the Corellian Jedi were deeply entwined with since rejoining the larger Order. Freeing the slaves and disrupting a criminal enterprise enough for the local authorities to arrest most of it's participants... that was just icing on the cake, so to speak.
The practice of slavery, in general, was a dirty business. It's victims had to be useful for something but no so capable that they could resist the enslavement in the first place or cause real trouble for their future masters. That meant strong bodies meant for unskilled labor, or skills of a non-threatening sort. In the case of Ryloth that usually meant pretty, graceful, and easily bullied into submission. Twi-lek dancers, both legitimately hired and illegally enslaved, were a hot commodity for the planet's shady dealers of flesh. A Twi-lek slave-girl was a symbol of some status among criminals of both the public and private sectors. The process, by necessity, was a refined one however.
Unlike more standardized slavery, a certain amount of investment had to be inherent in the product. One couldn't just snatch a random female from the tunnels, slap her in a dancer's costume, and shove her at the nearest space pirate with a tencred on him. One could find that sort of thing anywhere, Kaz mused to himself as he danced around an enforcer with a vibroknife. No, Twi-lek slave girls had to be skilled at dancing. It was practically an unspoken guarantee every time some good decided he wanted one that she was going to be a good dancer, beautiful, and usually docile. That meant she had to be healthy, cared for, and educated in the required skill set. That meant, in simplest terms, resources.
Those resources cost money and took the form of upkeep. They couldn't be beaten... at least not traditionally, for fear of marking one permenantly (and thus destroying the investment), they had to be kept in sanitary conditions that, again, would not mark them, and they had to have proper medical treatment for any injury they might suffer, accidental or inflicted. Money and medicine. Two things the young, renewed Jedi Order could definitely make use of. Two things that, along with the slaves themselves, the slavers were very dedicated to protecting. Two things that, together with the slaves themselves, Kaz had decided to liberate from one unfortunate slave ring.
And it had been a brilliant plan, if he did say so himself, particularly for its simplicity. Kaz had, for lack of a better term, assaulted the organization's stronghold in classic, foolish, Jedi style. Head on and through the front door until resistance had grown particularly stiff, at which point Kaz had carefully performed a fighting withdrawal in an attempt to make it appear as if he was being beaten back by a superior foe. Just like in any other illusion, he'd shown his opponent what they wanted to see, kept their attention on an unimportant or preferred detail, while the practical elements of the trick took place somewhere else. The tactic had backed Kaz out into the tunnels of the community, his slowly being driven back giving any innocent citizens all the time in the galaxy to find someplace safe to take cover.
While all eyes, and blasters apparently as Kaz once again found himself relying heavily on his mother's Form V training to deflect bolts back at a knot of shooters, the stronghold itself had been overcome by a trio of Antarian Rangers who then forced the survivors to load up the medical supplies, transfer credits, and release their slaves. The freed slaves gladly volunteered to watch over their former captors while the Antarian's made their escape. The Rangers sent the signal that they were away and Kaz grinned fiercely. It was time to make his opponents a bit hesitant to get back into their old line of work.
The illusions joined the battlefield. Glimpses of lightsabers ambushing from the flanks, a growing sense of dread encouraged by a few gentle pushes in the Force, and any being strong willed enough to resist these distractions finding themselves faced with a real live Jedi there to remove their weapons and maybe a few fingers along with them if they weren't quick enough to relinquish their grips. Slavers, and criminals in general, were bullies. And just like bullies, once the panic set in and the retreat began it was all it took for even the toughest of them to choose descretion as the better part of valor.
Kaz withdrew from the battlefield, confident that when the slavers arrived at their base to find it locked tight and occupied by freed and armed slaves that they would be all too willing to surrender to the community law enforcers without much of a fight. The Corellian Jedi used a few more minor tricks to make his way past those same law enforcement personell and to his ride off the planet, peacefully bypassing the blockades that had been set up to keep the blaster battle from reaching more populated areas.
------------------------------------------
Kaziki Halcyon entered the landing bay with his usual amused smile firmly in place, his hood down, and a little pep in his step from the excess adrenaline he was using the Force to let himself off of slowly to prevent the shakes. "Sir, we have everything loaded but... it wasn't a very big haul," the young apprentice ranger, a human female of roughly Kaz's age came jogging over from her watch out position. "It wasn't a very big group we hit," Kaz offered in return. "Low risk almost always means low reward, particularly when it comes to criminals. Still, for roughly an hour's work I'm willing to bed we made out better than if we'd all gotten part-time jobs at the local eateries."
The girl chuckled. "That's definitely true. The supplies will outfit a unit's worth of medics for a month or so of good operations or a couple three bad ones. The money can buy a good amount more though." Kaz merely nodded back to her. Chances were the medical materials would go to the Jedi themselves, there weren't enough for it to stretch out any other way. There were already endeavors in place to supply the common soldiers that had been brought to the banner so far. The real benefit of the operation had been funneling those supplies and the credits into the more secretive operations the Corellian Jedi were deeply entwined with since rejoining the larger Order. Freeing the slaves and disrupting a criminal enterprise enough for the local authorities to arrest most of it's participants... that was just icing on the cake, so to speak.
