DTF Enterprises / DTFE

DTF Enterprises: A History of Dabs, Tickle, and the Questionable Life Choices That Brought Us Here

In the grand, lawless expanse of the ‘verse—where the only things more unreliable than a Drake ship’s wiring are the people flying them—two legends (self-proclaimed) emerged from the cosmic dust: Dabs and Tickle.

The Fall of the Old Guard (Or: How We Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Chaos)
Once upon a time, Dabs and Tickle were proud(ish) members of another org. Let’s call it “That One Group That Used to Be Cool Before Everyone Remembered They Had Laundry to Do.” It had glory, it had drama, it had at least three people who definitely weren’t secret pirates. But like all good things—free drinks, stable server meshing, and the patience of ATC—it came to an end.

As the org crumbled faster than a sandwich at a Hull C’s cargo bay during a barrel roll, Dabs and Tickle did what any sane people would do: They stuck together like two idiots in an airlock with one helmet between them.

The Freelancer Years (A Series of Poor Decisions, But Make It Fun)
For years, the duo roamed the stars, leaving behind a trail of baffled enemies, confused bartenders, and at least one very concerned insurance agent. Their exploits included, but were not limited to:

“The Great 890 Jump Heist (That Was Actually Just a Miscommunication)” – Turns out, the “high-value target” they were hired to extract was a rich guy’s cat. They still got paid. (The cat was fine. Mostly.)

“That Time Tickle Tried to ‘Land’ a Cutlass on a Planet (Using Only Momentum and Hope)” – The resulting crater is now a tourist attraction on Hurston. “Come see where physics lost an argument!”

“Dabs’ ‘Totally Legal’ Cargo Runs” – If by “legal” you mean “no one asked, and no one survived the paperwork to prove otherwise,” then yes, extremely legal.

Through it all, they survived on a steady diet of bad ideas, good luck, and an alarming amount of energy drinks.

The Birth of DTF Enterprises (Because Someone Had to Take Responsibility, Apparently)
Eventually, the duo realized something profound: They were terrible at being alone. Also, hiring randoms from global chat kept ending in “Why is there a grenade in the toilet?” situations. So, they did the unthinkable—they started an org.

DTF Enterprises: Dabs. Tickle. Friends. (And by “Friends,” we mean “people who haven’t run away screaming yet.”)

Their mission? Simple:

Make money. (Or at least lose it in entertaining ways.)

Stay alive. (Optional, but encouraged.)

Never, ever let Tickle fly unsupervised again. (This one’s more of a guideline.)

The Future is Unwritten (Mostly Because We Keep Erasing the Manifest)
Now, DTF Enterprises stands as a beacon of something in the ‘verse. Maybe not order, maybe not sanity, but definitely a good time. Whether it’s smuggling, merc work, or just seeing how many people they can fit in a Pisces before it violates OSHA regulations, Dabs and Tickle are here for it.

Join us.

Disclaimer: DTF Enterprises is not responsible for lost limbs, existential dread, or sudden and unexplained fires. Medical insurance not included. Side effects may include laughter, regret, and an inexplicable love for space duct tape.