The Obsidian Wake was born of a mutiny on April Fools’ Day.
Appropriate, really.
What started with a small crew and a stolen future quickly became something worth keeping space-worthy. From the beginning, the people who stayed aboard put in the work to make sure the ship was airtight, armed, supplied, and ready for the black.
We did not have numbers on our side. We had commitment.
Even while small, the Wake proved effective in operations. We hit harder than our manifest suggested we should, made ourselves known, and developed a habit of leaving a wake behind big enough to keep general chat supplied with salt long after the shooting stopped.
The organization itself changed as quickly as did the crew. What began as a refuge became something casual, and what was casual eventually stopped being enough. The Wake became more organized, more deliberate, and more competitive. Expectations rose. Operations became sharper. The people aboard began treating improvement as part of the job rather than optional.
Those changes were not an abandonment of what came before. They were the result of figuring out what kind of organization we actually wanted to be.
The Obsidian Wake is still young. We do not have a long history to romanticize or a graveyard full of old victories to point at.
We earned our reputation.
and it's been bloody satisfactory.
In a short time, the Wake has gone from a handful of mutineers looking for somewhere to belong to a crew capable of making itself noticed. We have survived our own growing pains, changed course when we needed to, and kept flying.
Now we intend to grow.
Not for the sake of filling a roster. Not to collect bodies for a member count.
We are looking for people who make the Wake more dangerous than it was before they arrived.
Those who say that history is in the past gave up on making it.