Retreat from Yavin 4
A human spacer who lost friends
Jonas Rigger is something of a tale of caution within certain circles of the Rebel Alliance. Jonas is the guy no one wants to end up like; a washed-up drunk useful for only the craziest missions no one else would volunteer for.
Jonas joined the Rebellion as a bright-eyed youth, ready to end the tyranny of the Galactic Empire with the help of his best friend, Roland Eeloo. Roland and Jonas grew up together on the same planet, best of friends even though they came from different social groups. Roland’s family had money, but he gave it up to take on a life of adventure and idealistic endeavor with Jonas.
They graduated Flight School together, both at the top of their class. They were thrilled to finally be able to do something about the injustice in the Galaxy. Fate had a different plan for them, however.
On a routine patrol of a supposedly safe system, Jonas and Roland’s Z-95 Headhunters were ambushed by fighters from an Imperial task force that was hiding near a gas giant. They fought bravely, but it soon became clear that there were just too many Imperials. Roland ordered a withdrawal, but stayed behind to cover his friend’s escape. Jonas waited at regroup point for over an hour before heading back to the site of the ambush. Among the shattered hulls of nearly two dozen TIE fighters, Jonas found the still smoking wreckage from Roland’s Z-95, the cockpit entirely blasted apart and exposed to space.
Jonas could not forgive himself for leaving, nor could he forgive Roland for staying behind. His pain turned to depression and he began to volunteer for every dangerous mission he could find, perhaps hoping to find his own death. Mission after mission Jonas survived, sinking deeper into depression and alcoholism.
Today Jonas is a shadow of his former self. His blood-shot eyes rarely seem to focus on the world around him. His piloting skills have deteriorated as his alcoholism has become more severe. His hands shake. The stubble on his face from several-days growth is starting to grey with the rest of his hair. His only apparent value to the cause these days, is his willingness to accept nearly-hopeless assignments and his uncanny knack for surviving such assignments. Even then, few are willing to work with him.
Jonas knew it was only a matter of time before he died or the rebellion commanders would have enough. Sitting alone in his modified YT-1300, No Name, he browsed the latest message from Command, looking over the details what he felt would be his last job; membership in a small strike team to be known as The Womp Rats.
Note Walks with a limp now…