Hull Humpers / HULLHUMPER

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“If it’s drifting, we’re grinding.”

History Manifesto Charter

History

It all started in the unregulated backwaters of the Pyro System, where our half-sober drifting founder stumbled across a derelict Idris wedged awkwardly into an asteroid crevice; like it died halfway through a bad decision.

With zero permits and even less shame, we called in a crew of like-minded degenerates:

  • Garcia | The Grinder
    Treats cutting torches like love letters and bulkheads like long-distance relationships.
  • Skeleton | The Prawn
    A shrimp-obsessed scavenger who can smell abandoned crustaceans through three bulkheads and a vacuum seal.
  • Bullet | The Contractor
    Only works when paid in advance, preferably in something that burns on the way down.
  • Fix | The Fixer
    Believes every mechanical problem can be solved with a hammer, a blowtorch, and the phrase “good enough for thrust.”
  • Charlie | The Enthusiast
    Joined because he “wanted to touch big things,” and has never once clarified what that means.
  • Aaron | The Handler
    A former cargo-bay mascot whose presence somehow makes every salvage op feel like both a team-building exercise and an HR violation waiting to happen.

They stripped the Idris bare – pipes, panels, even the captain’s ergonomic chair – and sold it off piece by piece with the grace of a drunk mechanic in zero-G. Word spread fast. Not of their skill, but of their complete disregard for dignity and structural integrity.

From there, The Hull Humpers Salvage Syndicate was born. What began as opportunistic ship-fondling became a full-time lifestyle of intimate ship disassembly. Their motto: “If it’s drifting, we’re grinding.”

Now they cruise the ’verse in search of lonely hulls, forgotten wrecks, and ships that just want to be touched one last time.

Manifesto

We, the unwashed few, the unapologetically greasy, the unlicensed anatomists of aerospace wreckage, do hereby declare our creed:

We do not ask permission.
We do not file paperwork.
We do not leave the lights on.

We find.
We fondle.
We fillet.

Where others see twisted metal and failed insurance claims, we see opportunity. We see foreplay. We see potential profit hiding behind every loose panel and half-ejected escape pod.

We pledge to hump the hulls no one else will.
If it’s abandoned, it’s aroused.
If it’s derelict, it deserves attention.
And if it’s got a hull, we’re going to hump it.

The ’verse forgot these ships.
But we didn’t.
We remembered every rivet, every soft curve of composite plating, every groan of overstressed trusses begging to be undone.

We do not salvage. We seduce.
We do not dismantle. We disrobe.
We make love to the carcass of civilization, one bolt at a time.

We are Hull Humpers.
And we never pull out.

Charter

Article I: Purpose
To boldly breach where others abstain, the Hull Humpers Salvage Syndicate exists to exploit, extract, and erotically dismantle every forgotten frame drifting through the void. We are not here to preserve history—we are here to strip it bare and sell the remains.

Article II: Membership
Membership is open to any individual who meets the following minimum qualifications:

Greasy beyond salvation

Morally flexible

In possession of at least one functional limb and zero functioning ethics

Demonstrated willingness to hump hulls without emotional attachment

Applicants will undergo a rigorous initiation involving at least one act of questionable salvage in low orbit and a verbal oath never to “report findings” or “sanitize gear.”

Article III: Operations
All salvage operations must adhere to the following non-negotiable standards:

No lights. Darkness is both romantic and plausible deniability.

No paperwork. If a ship wanted a chain of custody, it wouldn’t be abandoned.

Touch everything. Even if it looks like it bites. Especially if it bites.

Profit-sharing follows the Grease Index. The filthier you are, the more you get paid.

No questions. Curiosity gets you context, and context ruins the mood.

Article IV: Command Structure
There is no chain of command. Only a grease-stained circle of influence dictated by who found the wreck, who’s got tools, and who’s the least sober. Disputes are settled through a democratic process known as “grapple for dominance in low-G.”

Article V: Code of Conduct
Never question a man elbow-deep in ship guts.

Never wear a shirt you aren’t willing to burn later.

Never speak of the Clean Salvagers unless you’re issuing a challenge or an insult.

Never turn down a wreck that’s “probably still hot.”

Always finish what you start.

Article VI: Motto
“If it’s drifting, we’re grinding.”

– Ratified by unanimous grunt aboard the derelict Idris-class flagship, now known affectionately as “The Thrust Relic.”