Decepticons Ship Novels & Stories

“This doesn’t look like an academy.” Adrian smiled faintly. “Your mother’s instructions. Forgive me.” I scoffed softly and turned my gaze toward the horizon, bathed in dusk. The car passed through a guarded stone gate bearing the sigil of the Northern Lycan Alliance. Inside, torchlight and moonfire illuminated a vast hall carved from black stone. Banners of the northern packs lined the walls. Alphas stood in quiet authority beside their Lunas, while pack elites gathered in measured clusters. This was no dinner.

"Scopulus seems to have joined the Ruin Order! It's a hostile organization that goes against Star Alliance. The last I heard of them was when it got destroyed! How did they get a Destroyer-class spaceship?" For the first time, Felix felt helpless. His martial arts and soul techniques were useless against a Destroyer-class spaceship. "Is there truly no other way?" he asked. Immediately, a staff member reported in a shocked voice, "This is bad. The opposing spaceship has activated its energy cannon. We will be destroyed in T-minus five minutes!" The energy cannon needed exactly five minutes to accumulate the energy. Once it had been completed, one shot could destroy any planets, not to mention

Of course he would, Aurelian Kest would control the terrain, just like he controlled everything else. The location was a disused textile warehouse. The rain had stopped, leaving the world wet and gloomy. Our headlights cut through the gloom as we pulled into the vast, empty parking lot. One other vehicle was already there, a matte-black, armored SUV that looked less like a car and more like a missile. Marco parked a deliberate distance away. “I should come in with you.” “No.” I adjusted the cuffs of my black suit jacket. “He’ll have scanners, weapons will be seen as weakness, or provocation, we are just having a conversation not fighting a war yet.”

The lances were so efficient that it only took a single pass to obliterate every layer of their armor. All that was left after their initial swipe was the blackened and charred remains of the carbon lattice that held it all together. And of course, sections of the ship’s structure and various modules and systems beneath. When the Einherjar’s tungsten spikes hit, there was absolutely nothing that could even stop them. The spikes punched through the structure as though it didn’t even exist. They all tore through the middle of the ships, perforated numerous decks and passageways and rooms. Each one eviscerated countless machines and modules and people. Sparks and blood were flung in every direc

A lucky few passed in their sleep. What will my fate be? The officer wondered. The horn sounded, thousands of feet padded through the ark's labyrinthine passageways, and the stars wheeled above. * * * Legion out post NB-23-11E had been a spaceship once, but those days were more than forty years in the past, when thousands of vessels had been decommissioned after the second Dodvalian war. Many had been scrapped, or sold into civilian service, but not the DE-504, an honorable hull that had seen action off Byron and been credited with seven kills.

The screen projects a hologram of the ship; complete with internal and cut-out views. DIANA: You are the captain and owner of the DJS ITALICA. A battle cruiser class dimensional jump ship by tonnage. You have a crew of 1 of a possible 100 capacity. This ship is equipped with 20 Proximity Defense guns, 2 fore bearing plasma particle accelerating cannons, 6 heavy missile pods, 10 rocket barrage pods, 6 space torpedo pods, and lastly a 1050mm caliber 6500Mj fore bearing railgun that fire rounds made with tungsten iridium and graphite to form a unique kind of alloy carbide able to penetrate through 7 or 8 ships. We also have enough capacity to carry 4 civilian capsule boats and 10 drones. Curren

The sky above Novus, once a battlefield of violet beams and obsidian rings, was now filled with a hauntingly familiar silhouette. The "Mimic-Fleet" did not emerge from the void with alien hums; it arrived with the rhythmic, terrifying thump-hiss of a thousand replicated Great Engines. The Curators had used the data-harvest from the Sovereignty-Virus to 3D-print an armada of bronze-wood ships, each one a grotesque, oversized caricature of the Aethel-Dawn.

“But if I prime it with a direct burst from your scar—the one that holds the Dissonance—I can turn the North Star into a localized frequency pulse. We won’t just break the harpoons; we’ll short-circuit every mechanical gear within a five-mile radius. Their ships will become floating coffins.” ​“Do it,” I said, looking at Cassian. “Prepare the capacitor. We’re moving toward the docks now.” ​I turned to the room. Thorne was already rallying the wolves, their eyes glowing with the amber light of their shifts. The warriors were restless, their fur bristling beneath their armor. They had survived the Void and the deep; they were not about to be ended by steam and iron.

The white nebula didn't just glow; it hummed with the frequency of a billion simultaneous heartbeats. It was the "Source," the raw, uncompiled energy of the universe. But between the Oakhaven’s Reach and that final frontier stood the full weight of the Macro-verse’s fear. The High Council’s fleet didn't arrive in a line; they warped in as a Geometric Net. Thousands of obsidian-class dreadnoughts, led by the Senior Architect’s flagship, the Monolith, surrounded the graveyard of deleted worlds.

The stealth transport ship was completely different now. Leo had spent eighteen hours straight working on the engines. Thanks to the secret files on the data drive, the ship’s hull was now coated in a special silver-polymer material. It didn't just hide them from radar anymore; it absorbed the physical shock of heavy weather.