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Iridonia is the native world of the zewari tree, much craved by the stinking rich of the Galaxy for its black-gold hue and tender fragrance. It is every senator's dream to have his office fitted out with real zewari-timber furniture. However, Iridonia's climate is harsh and the trees only grow reluctantly in it, and it takes many, many decades for a tree to reach its proper cutting height. So the timber is, naturally, heinously expensive.
The Jedi have also installed a small group of their Agri-Corps there, to encourage the growth of these trees and oversee the trade, making sure that no underhand business goes on. The plantations of the Iridonian Zewari Corps are situated on the harsh North Plateau, deep in the Zabrak tribal territories, just some miles across the Great Wadi that cuts diagonally through that territory.
So, I'm going to tell you a story about how Khameir wanted to build a house for his mother. A wooden house. A house of zewari timber. Oh my god! you say, This is preposterous! Well, that was Khameir for you. And, naturally, being an unemployed Sith that he was, how did he get wood? Do you imagine he bought it and paid for it? Nobody could afford that, not even Black Sun!
No, our Khameir just sneaked into the Agri-Corps territory one night. He chose a stack of planks placed there conveniently for any thief that might come by, and being a conscientious citizen, his heart bled seeing all that treasure just lying there without anyone to stand guard, so he heaved it onto his shoulder (with some judicious application of the Force) and made away with it. And the load wasn't even that big, only some hundreds of planks. Just a house-full.
Naturally, the Agri-Corps Jedi were no nonsense folks. It didn't take them long to realize that a thief had visited, and the hunt was on. Khameir was carrying a heavy load, so he was at a disadvantage, and indeed, they caught him just after he had climbed through the Great Wadi and up the other side. Now, the Agri-Corps Jedi are all well trained, but they do not use lightsabers, and being Jedi, they do not use blasters either. Seeing a single Zabrak facing them, they attacked with stun-sticks.
Khameir threw down his load of planks, grabbed one of them and swung. Crack! it hit one of the attackers - the man fell - but alas, the plank broke as well. So it went in that battle between Khameir and several dozen Agri-Corps Jedi: a hit, and a plank, a hit, and a plank. Until Khameir began to despair that there would not be enough left for his mother's house.
There was a tiny hedgehog near there, observing the fight from under a thornbush, shivering with cold - for hedgehogs were naked in those times. Seeing yet another plank break, the creature piped up with its squeaky voice: "Hit 'em with the edge, man, hit'em with the edge!"
Khameir blinked when he heard that. He did as the hedgehog had advised, and soon all attackers were defeated.
Now Khameir could finally see who it was that had helped him. He saw a pathetic, pinkish, shivering creature with black button-eyes staring up at him. "Was it you that helped me?" he asked. "Well, here's my reward." And he took a plank and hit the hedgehog. NOT edgewise, though. "Next time, mind your own business," Khameir said.
Since then, hedgehogs have coats made of zewari splinters. And they are pathetically grateful for that, because it keeps them from cold and from enemies and is pretty precious besides. They never tell how they got it, though.
As for Khameir, though, his fears had unfortunately been not unfounded. Too many planks had been broken, and so the material did not suffice for a house. It did, however, suffice for a grand table, cupboard and chairs. Many, MANY chairs.
And here's the Zabrakian moral of the story: do you really think Khameir needed such an advice?