Rygar Dallen was only 14 years old when the Empire came to occupy his home world of Taboon. And had a front row seat to the carnage and bloodshed of a failed rebellion as his parents didn't skip a beat to join up and try to liberate their home from the Empire.

It was his 15th birthday, when the Stormtroppers finally located their hideout and decided that a thermal detonator tossed down the stairway was a great way to welcome him into manhood!

If it's quiet enough he can still to this day hear the cruel countdown of the device before it exploded, killing his entire family and burning the lower 80% of his body in its explosion. Tick... tick... tick... BOOM!

From that day on he has been both petrified and enamored with fires and explosions. And has decided that in order to master his fears, he must master what nearly killed him those many years ago.

Thrill - Rygar spent months in total agony and pain, as he was not given the luxury of bacta treatments in his recovery, as he was tagged as a "Rebel Sympathizer"! And fear so strong that it almost seemed to crush the life out of him in the days and weeks after the explosion. The "tick... tick... ticking" of the detonator playing over and over again in his head.

Until one day he decided that it was not going to control him any longer, that he was going to master his fears. And so as soon as he was released from medical he set out to learn all he could about explosives and their uses. Hoping to eliminate his fear through education.

But that wasn't enough, and he quickly escalated to application. And before his "experiments" could get him locked up for good, he decided to take up with the Rebellion so he could put his obsession to good uses... or at least better funded uses!

His duty to the Rebellion only stretches as far as they let him continue to S trike out at the Empire. And continue to tear things down with fire and fury... on their dime of course!

Rygar is always covered from head to foot in clothing and apparatus. From his heavy black military boots to the Goggles and rebreather mask and head wrap he is nearly never seen without.

He knows that people talk, and speculate on just how hideously disfigured he must be under all that leather and plastic.

And that is fine by him! He isn't hiding himself from their gaze for the reasons they think, but hiding he is.

In reality he doesn't want them to see the joy and bliss he gets from his work. The sheer euphoria and pleasure he derives from tearing things down. For dosing things in fire and destruction, and remaking them in his own disfigured image!