Joack Founder of Joack and Associates. The only adult in the room.
No one really knows where Joack came from. Some say he was a retired Minmatar logistics officer who snapped after his 147th requisition form—and several years of trying to explain to upper command that “it’s not a design flaw, it’s a feature.” Others believe he’s an ex-SoCT operative running from a past shrouded in cloaks, lies, and cafeteria food that somehow tasted like wires.
What is known is that Joack appeared on the fringes of empire space one day with three small ships, a hangar full of blueprints, and the dead-eyed determination of a man who’s spent too many nights staring at production timers while chewing industrial-grade caffeine gum.
Joack doesn’t talk much. He communicates through market graphs, cold ISK transfers, and the occasional passive-aggressive ping. Despite this, he’s formed a tight-knit (and possibly illegal) association with three… brothers? Clients? Genetic anomalies? No one knows. But Joack watches over them—guiding, advising, and occasionally threatening to disown them when they accidentally manufacture 5,000 Small Armor Plates instead of 50.
Joack and Associates isn’t a corp. It’s a quiet empire, built on ship parts, patience, and suspiciously consistent manufacturing schedules. Some say Joack’s not even their boss. He’s their warden.