Driller Ship Novels & Stories

Both Squad 44 GLT-class and GRD-class already reach the top of the wall. “Alright, this is the quill. Appsylon!” said the GLT-class. “[Understood, Herrscher.]” said Appsylon. Her drone using laser to cut the quill into two pieces then load it into her cannon. “This is GLT-class Herrscher, I’m ready to shoot. And my drone is continued to collecting the ammo from the quill. Over!” said the GLT-class. “Copy that, GLT-class. You are free to shoot." said Cornelio.

Boarding the Enemy Ship The lifeboat surged as Rook’s emergency steering kicked in, forcing us toward the massive steel hull of Natalia’s flagship—the heart of her war fleet. Suddenly... Combat drones launched, descending fast, their turrets blazing, raining fire across the ocean’s surface.Under Fire "GET DOWN!" Damien roared, hauling me flat just as gunfire erupted, shredding the lifeboat’s rear hull. Vanessa’s sniper rifle barked sharply, dropping two drones before they could lock on again. I returned fire, forcing back three more combat units, breathing sharp. Kyle shouted: "We’re twenty seconds out from the breach point—HOLD THE LINE!”

A warning. I grip the railing harder, heart pounding. The cargo ship looms ahead, massive and slow, vulnerable. And then—floodlights blaze from the starboard side. Another vessel emerges from the dark. Sleek, black, marked with a single insignia. The Vitale crest. I exhale, part relief, part dread. The new ship surges between the cargo and the attackers. Its guns roar, tearing into the speedboats with terrifying precision. Engines sputter, hulls splinter, screams cut through the air. Within minutes, the would-be raiders are retreating, limping into the night.

"Ambrose was going to talk. He was going to warn me about Mindy." Suddenly, the car’s dashboard lit up red. A high-pitched alarm began to blare. "We’re being painted by a drone!" Dorian shouted, his fingers flying across the keys. "It’s a Reaper-class. Private sector. They’re locking on!" "Hold on!" Nikolai roared. He slammed the car into a drift, tires screaming as we veered off the main road and into the industrial labyrinth of the shipyards. Above us, the dark shape of a drone hummed, a mechanical hawk hunting its prey.

Trevor: What ship do I use? Bob: the unarmed vessel we captured, DJS Chernov. A freighter the size of a destroyer, stealth capabilities too... It is a smuggler's ship. DIANA will be moved to that interface... together with a copy of your captain's chair. Take the file with you...

As they crested the final dune, the sheer scale of the threat became clear. The Dredger was a nightmare of industrial geometry. It crawled out of the surf on sixteen massive, hydraulic legs, its central drill a rotating spear of diamond-tipped steel already biting into the concrete of the coastal bulkhead. Every time the drill struck, the ground beneath Alexander’s feet shuddered with a violent, rhythmic thrum. "We can't hit that thing with pulse rifles," Jax whispered, hunkering down behind a rusted hull. "It’s built to survive the pressure at four thousand meters. Our bolts will just bounce off the plating."

Cerberus Protocol had ignited flawlessly. The first ship was hit by a drone-launched depth charge, detonated just beneath the keel. The explosion cracked it in half like a crucifix dropped on stone. The second was struck by a magnetic torpedo — a gift from an old Soviet pipeline Matteo had “reactivated” in silence. The third… that one was different. It didn’t sink. It burned. From the inside out. Flames poured from every window and vent like the ship itself was coughing out hell. Men leapt overboard, screaming. Bullets rained from the sky, fired from remote choppers above. They never even saw the shooters. Just death, cloaked in wind and fury.

The journey to the ground was not a march, it was a downward spiral into hell. We used the remains of the worshipper's son, which we had with the the most powerful drives of the steel coils and a massive layer of the Pirscher-Panzer had modified. It was no longer a flying ship, but a powerful, armored drill that sat in the rock under our camp. Kael sat at the wheel of the construction while I was in the narrow of the machine room

Then the spotlight dipped, almost like a bow. Moments later, they were aboard. Inside the Cruiser The ship was nothing like Ellie expected. No banners, no insignias. Inside, red safety lamps glowed over metal corridors. The air smelled of oil and salt. Men and women in black fatigues moved briskly, their gear stripped of all national markings. A man met them on the deck. Broad-shouldered, scar across his jaw, eyes sharp as glass. Commander Drax. “Voss,” he said with a wolfish grin. “I never thought I’d see you cash that chip.”