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Hubahu Jones Atavuli was born on Matar, in a Krusual‑leaning settlement where "safety rules" were polite suggestions and structural integrity was something you checked after the explosion. His grandmother, a former slave with a talent for profanity and improvised weapons, taught him early that the Amarr were not to be feared, but to be inconvenienced violently.

She gave him three rules:

1. If it's gold, it's lying.
2. If it's chanting, it's dangerous.
3. If it's Amarrian, it's flammable.

Hubahu's childhood ended when an Amarrian pursuit patrol crossed into Republic territory and raided his settlement under the usual excuse of chasing pirates. They took his younger brother and left the village in ashes. The Republic protested. The Amarr shrugged. Hubahu decided diplomacy was a hobby for people without access to explosives.

He joined the Republic Military School out of spite, rage, and a desire to learn how to make things explode on purpose. Instructors quickly discovered he excelled at reconnaissance, jury‑rigged engineering, hit‑and‑run tactics, and making Amarrian officers reconsider their life choices. He could wait in silence for hours, then strike with explosive precision, a trait the Krusual called "discipline" and everyone else called a "warning sign".

Becoming a capsuleer wasn't ambition. It was escalation. Hubahu saw the pod as the ultimate weapon: a way to fight the Amarr on equal footing and ensure no Minmatar child ever watched their home burn without recourse.

Since then, he has operated across low‑sec and the fringes of null‑sec, intercepting slaver convoys, sabotaging Amarrian supply lines, and liberating captives with the efficiency of a man who keeps a checklist titled "Things the Amarr Will Regret."

His ships, often modified beyond sane standards, reflect his Krusual roots: fast, unpredictable, and held together by rust, faith, and whatever parts he found lying around.

Hubahu distrusts anything gilded, sanctimonious, or shaped like a cathedral. He carries himself with quiet intensity, sharp humor, and the belief that the Minmatar will only be safe when the last chain is broken and the last slaver is introduced to rapid unscheduled disassembly.

He doesn't seek reconciliation.
He seeks liberation.
He seeks justice.
He seeks the future the Amarr tried to steal.

And if explosions happen along the way?
That's just good engineering.
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