Minmatar
Vherokior
0.81
Tahu Adi
Last Active:
6 days ago
Birthday:
Feb 7, 2025 (0 years old)
Next Birthday:
Feb 7, 2026 (149 days remaining)
Combat Metrics
Kills
1
Losses
62
Efficiency
1.6%
Danger Ratio
1.6%
ISK Metrics
ISK Killed
5.22M ISK
ISK Lost
8.13B ISK
ISK Efficiency
0.1%
ISK Balance
-8,126,291,782 ISK
Solo Activity
Solo Kills
0
Solo Losses
45
Solo Kill Ratio
0.0%
Solo Efficiency
0.0%
Other Metrics
NPC Losses
20
NPC Loss Ratio
32.3
Avg. Kills/Day
0.0
Activity
Low
Character Biography
She came to us not in need, but in motion. Not running — listening. She wore the marks of the Vherokior, but walked with no clan behind her, only stars ahead. That’s how we knew she was one of ours.
Tahu Adi speaks to dead things, but they whisper back. Ruins open for her. Systems no one maps call her by name. Once, she drifted alone for three weeks in a broken nav bubble, chasing the ghost of a Thukker hull thought lost before the Rebellion. Came back calm, with a new wake behind her.
Her Cheetah? They call it Eyes of the Void. It sees deeper than probes. That Prowler she flies — Whisper Between Stars — doesn’t carry just cargo. It carries memory. It carries favors. It carries the weight of things that must move unseen, but not unloved.
She’s a fixer. But don’t mistake her hands for grease-stained. She can wire a bulkhead with a breath, and reroute a reactor flow like she’s praying. Maybe she is. Spirits walk with her. Ancestors maybe. Code ghosts. Hard to say. She doesn’t speak of it unless she trusts you.
Caravan 4180 doesn’t follow maps. We follow meaning. And she? She’s a compass shaped like a person.
Tahu Adi speaks to dead things, but they whisper back. Ruins open for her. Systems no one maps call her by name. Once, she drifted alone for three weeks in a broken nav bubble, chasing the ghost of a Thukker hull thought lost before the Rebellion. Came back calm, with a new wake behind her.
Her Cheetah? They call it Eyes of the Void. It sees deeper than probes. That Prowler she flies — Whisper Between Stars — doesn’t carry just cargo. It carries memory. It carries favors. It carries the weight of things that must move unseen, but not unloved.
She’s a fixer. But don’t mistake her hands for grease-stained. She can wire a bulkhead with a breath, and reroute a reactor flow like she’s praying. Maybe she is. Spirits walk with her. Ancestors maybe. Code ghosts. Hard to say. She doesn’t speak of it unless she trusts you.
Caravan 4180 doesn’t follow maps. We follow meaning. And she? She’s a compass shaped like a person.