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OT-3902 The Storm of Strakan
“Strakan’s Wake, you call this a supply drop? You couldn’t print a pawn with this scrap!”
- Dynast Quartermaster Estece
The battle that history remembers as The Storm of Strakan began as a skirmish on the Line World of Strakan, as a minor clash between Cortex patrol vessels and Armada merchants over disputed trade lanes. Such incidents were routine in the Severance War’s middle decades, but Strakan would not remain routine. Unluckily, it was perfectly situated and timed to pull more forces than would have previously been seen. Normally these conflicts were flashes. Traditional logistic disputes rarely spiraled farther, they were brief aggression befo re cooler heads prevailed and Tenebrium was needlessly wasted.
The initial collision sent distress signals outward. Reinforcements converged from across the region, and their arrival only deepened the desperation. Cortex and Armada warships alike fought with uncharacteristic ferocity, suffering devastating losses. Passing fleets were pulled into the conflict, and with them came heavier weapons: orbital plasma batteries, tachyon satellites, and kinetic strikes that scarred Strakan’s surface. The skies burned with fire, while those stranded below were left to endure isolation amidst the ruin.
Among these ground-bound survivors, chaos reigned. Resources became scarce, foodstuffs became the premiere good. Within the web of jammed communications and constant desperation, the greatest if humanity emerged. Scattered captains, flight leaders, and patrol pilots, began to cut patterns through the storm. None were high-ranking or trained for high command. But they adapted, coordinated, and maneuvered the survival of their allies against the unrelenting death that came from all sides and rained down on them from above. When Cortex strikes fell, their rallied forces were already retreating. When bastions of Armada defenders faltered, they appeared and rallied them into cohesion.
On the ground, order collapsed. Resources dwindled, and food became the only currency of survival. Amidst jammed signals and ceaseless bombardment, fragments of humanity endured. Captains without fleets, patrol leaders, engineers, and pilots survived. These were neither Dynasts nor Scholarborne heirs. They were ordinary soldiers, reshaped by desperation.
Within the Storm of Strakan, they crossed a threshold, evolving beyond their own Horizons. They became something greater, something later archives would classify as Proto-Commanders. They cut through chaos with instinct and improvisation, forging coherence where none should have existed. When Cortex strikes fell, their bands were already in retreat. When Armada bastions buckled, they appeared to rally defenders into unity.
The Storm of Strakan ended without victory. Both sides withdrew, their fleets in ruins, their Tenebrium spent, their dead uncounted. Strakan was abandoned, the radiated craters dotting its surface rejected all future Terraforming attempts. But from its ashes emerged survivors and leaders. Men and women from lesser bloodlines and unknown academies, who fused instinct into command, who embarked on Horizons unknown.
The Storm of Strakan has remained a part of Armada in the decades that followed as:
"Strakan’s Wake" / "Strakan"
Said when something goes wrong, an exclamation for disaster.
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