Place of Birth: A small hut on the banks of Lake Atlantis on Rosario
Mental State: I don't suffer insanity, I enjoy every minute of it
The Early Years
I was born a poor fisherman's son way back in December of 2329. My father, the late Salvator Johanson had a small business on Rosario where he caught and sold fish to the local market. My mother, the also late Carmella Johanson was the typical housewife, cooking, cleaning and taking care of poor little me. My parents were both descendants of Italians, who did pretty much exactly the same things back on Earth, fisherman and housewife. Old Sal used to spend all his time out on the docks trying to catch enough fish to sell so as to be able to support his family, but unfortunately, it was never quite enough. I was forced to stay at home rather than going to school because we just couldn't afford the expense. Nevertheless, I grew and learned at an accelerated rate, mainly owing to the vast quantity of fish I was forced to consume. To this day, I get ill when even in the same room as seafood, but that's another story altogether. I was mostly friendless as a child, which probably contributed to my more or less antisocial attitude in adulthood.
The Teenage Years
Flashing forward a bit, we come to the point in my life when the all important decision of career comes into play. Still with no formal education under my belt, I had to figure out where my life was to go. The choices were either stay on Rosario and fish for a living or take out a loan to join the piloting academy. Obviously, I chose the latter, as it seemed to be the more productive of the two. I did stick around home and help my father with the business until I was 19, by which time I'd saved enough to catch a pod off of that rock and head over to the Commonwealth Academy Of Piloting. For four long years, I studied and learned about the various star systems and history. My marks were far from good however, yet somehow I managed to come out of there a qualified pilot. My line of thinking was they were trying to rid themselves of me, as I was a bit of a troublemaker. Nevertheless, out into the real world I went, certification in hand and possessing barely more than my own name.
Fresh out of the academy, I found myself unceremoniously plopped on Angelus. I wandered about that massive spaceport for days until I finally ran into somebody who offered to show me around and lend me a bit of cash to get on my feet. Even in those times, early fall of 2353 it was, people were still somewhat helpful, despite the beginning of the impending interalliance war. I was shown how to do a couple of simple tasks, such as collecting debris, hauling asteroids, that sort of thing. I still had no friends, but I was making what turned out to be a few valuable contacts. All seemed to be well until October of that year, when I got a letter in the mail... I was informed that both of my parents had been killed while out on Lake Atlantis. They had been found by a few of my father's business partners after having been missing for a couple days. Both appeared to have giant tooth marks on them, and my mother was missing an arm. I won't go into much more detail than that, as it's too much for me to even try to remember myself. I rushed back to Rosario as soon as I could, only to be met by a stranger in what once was my parent's house.
The Lost Brother
The funeral was nice, as nice as something like that could be. The stranger in my old childhood house it turned out was a fellow by the name of Buck, whom I later found out was my older brother. Apparently he was shipped off to live with my grandparents a year before I was born, and my parents never saw fit to tell me about him. It was what turned out to be a bittersweet experience in my life, going from the only Johanson child (or so I thought) to having an older brother. We hit it off right away though and became the best of friends. In fact, most of my first year and a half out of the academy were spent with Buck traveling and exploring the galaxy. It was a bit odd, one would rarely be seen without the other. All went well with us until mid 2355, when we had a massive falling out. After spending so much time together, I reckon we just sort of got sick of each other. We ended up going off in different directions, finding a new group of friends. Buck got himself in a bit of trouble with some pirates, and fearing I would become a target by association, I changed my name. J.T. Johanson was no more, replaced by J.T. Harkness. It took some getting used to, but it still wasn't quite right. Months after the initial change, I dropped J.T. for Jason, which stands to this day. Buck also went through a change, joining the Hadford clan. After a minor betrayal on both parts, we lost contact for a while. Months later though, we started speaking again, and remain amiable to this day.
That just about sums up my twisted and disturbed autobiography. Massive portions were left out either because I couldn't remember them, or I didn't feel them worth mentioning. There were failed friendships, a failed marriage, betrayals, just the usual day to day pilot drama. The only thing left now is, at the time of this writing, my wonderful fiance Calandria Hartzler. Without her, I would be hard pressed to get off my lazy butt and do anything. Thanks Cala!