Middle Class Struggles - I was born and raised on Kashyyyk, but eschewed the typical pursuits of growing up in a prosperous Wookiee household. Even mechanics, xenobiology, and ecology, the typical endeavors for the more scholarly minded didn't appeal to me. What kept my attention more than anything else was numbers and finance. I was following the Galactic Stock Market on the Coruscant exchange while in the Wookiee version of grade school, and was the founder (and sole member) of the Student Investors Club at Rwookrrorro University.

After graduating, I traveled to Muunilinst to study at their prestigious schools, and completed my training in accountancy. From there, I took the first position offered by a large corporation, only knowing what I was able to pick up from my limited experiences with the broader economic world

Unable to work for reputable businesses, I've been taking temp work for shadier operations, or those small enough to have low fees as their shadiest concern. Having had time to consider everything that's happened, a low rage has started building in my normally serene soul.

I've started trying to track down Galackler's hidden funds and businesses on the side. I'm not even sure what I'll do with this information if I can get it, but for one in the first times in my life everything isn't meticulously planned. I know that they wronged me, and that I'm going to do something about it.

Criminal - I'm wanted in the corporate sector for tax fraud. I was in the accounting department of Galackler Medical Corp, a large pharmaceutical consortium based in the Corporate Sector. One day, they were investigated for a series of shell companies based in the Dagobah system, and the higher-ups blamed the members of my department, causing us to be disavowed and blacklisted by the Accountants Guild and brought in for questioning.

In a spate of seeming mercy, but secretly unwilling to undergo a lengthy trial and investigation, Galackler offered "terms" and paid for our silence. Stunned by the turn of events, I took the payout, enough to cover passage to another world. One of the managers in my department, more versed in the cutthroat machinations of the corporate sector, advised me to lay low on Rodia until things blew over.

Her exact words - "Don't worry Wollett, there's always work for someone who is good with credits - especially if they can turn a blind eye to where they come from."

Average for a Wookiee (so giant for everyone else). Brown fur with just a hint of red if the sun catches it just right.

I don't have any of the traditional belts or harnesses, and I wear a green visor.