Goob Ships Novels & Stories

There was a day we fought a group of Pirates called "GUBAN PIRATE" This pirtaes are very dangerous as the first thing is their captain with a poisonous sword. If their captain should tear the least of your flesh, forget it. You will surely die later if not soon. We started fighting the Guban pirates with a ravaging and bloody battling. It was a tough and rough battle. Everyone was not expected to survive that day as they don't spare people's life whenever they ask for mercy. They invaded every corner of our ship, and thins were going wrong that day till Captain Babbosa said to us, 'ABANDON THE SHIP'.

He was so shocked that he rubbed his eyes to make sure what he saw was not his imagination. Although the darkness had prevailed, he could clearly see that not a far distance from the beach, many ships were cruising toward them. The ships were all painted black. Under the dim light from the moon, the ships were as massive as a sea monster, and they were full of people standing on board. They all had muscular bodies, and they held long sabers in their hand, looking very fierce and undefeatable. The leading ship had a giant flag. It was raised more than a few feet high above with three words written on it.

The black horizon of the Pacific didn’t just rumble; it bled. Through the dense, wet curtains of the harbor fog, the silhouette of *The Leviathan* materialized like a prehistoric leviathan cut from matte-black steel. The naval destroyer sat three miles out, a ghost ship commissioned by the absolute peak of corporate desperation, its heavy forward cannons slowly rotating toward the coordinates of the free port of Blackridge. They weren't here to negotiate an asset recovery. They were here to execute a scorched-earth liquidation.

Lazarus Within ten minutes our assault ships had deployed and were now circulaiting the Vorian. We had yet to gain visuals on the unidentified ship. Everyone was on high alert if we infact needed to engage. “The ship is identified. It’s a Galdrian ship, the Nibor.” Kurn exclaims. Fuck! What is he doing here? The ship belongs to my cousin Garon. After my father and Garons father fell out some fifteen years ago, Garon has made a fine career as a pirate and terrorist.

They were waiting for the main attack. One of the airships, stationed east in the Mui lands, reported a lone goblin caught trying to cross one of the bordering rivers. He claimed to be an envoy of one of the northern war chiefs. The flying ship transferred him to their main base. The goblin did not want to reveal the name of the war chief, but insisted it was not a trick. His leader wanted to talk to Ghraht. It was a sensitive situation. On the one hand, it could be a ruse, but on the other hand, it could be an

During breakfast, none of them talked about what happened the night before. The conversation between them went on as if nothing had happened. Nicola didn’t know how to feel about it but she chose to focus all her attention on Iris. The little girl was extremely excited to go and see the ‘big boats’. As the car approached the iron gates, Nicola saw the huge sign hanging from a fence post. Someone had painted a piece of plywood yellow and written on it in dark blue paint ‘Seabrook Shipyard’.

That was when the alarm sounded and the Vamoos knew something was after him. * * * Jyro tried one of the chairs, discovered that it was uncomfortable, and chose to stand. There was nothing to see at first except the thick, swirling clouds. They were yellow and appeared rather dense. The deck tilted, he grabbed a chair back for support, and saw a flash of what? Metal? The scout turned toward the right, and the clouds parted to reveal a ship. A strange ship consisting of clustered cylinders and supply outriggers. Now the prospector understood. The Sham vessel needed fuel... And was about to take it.

But the water wasn't the scary part. Floating on the black sea were ships. Hundreds of them. There were Viking longships, their wood rotted and petrified. There were 17th-century galleons with tattered sails frozen in mid-flap. There were rusted ironclads from the Civil War. And dominating the center, massive, grey steel hulks of WWII destroyers and U-boats. They bobbed silently in the black water, bumping into each other with dull, hollow thuds.

A large ship, anchored far off in the distance, its dark silhouette barely visible in the hot afternoon. "That's the ship," Louise said. "The shipment was supposed to be on board." "And now?" Luan asked. "Now it's gone," Louise said quietly. "Everything is gone." Luan's jaw tightened as he heard this "Let's go," he moved his hands signaling them to come along. Louise nodded and led them toward two speedboats that were waiting at the edge of the dock. Luan, Klevis, Louise, Boaz, and two other men climbed into the boats.

It wasn't the Holy Syndicate. From the fog emerged a fleet of "Ghost Ships"—commercial freighters, private yachts, and even fishing trawlers, all manned by people who had been "Decommissioned" by the Syndicate’s global seizure. They were the waitresses from Singapore, the coders from Geneva, and the soldiers from New York who had refused to go back to their "Stations." The lead ship, a battered Northwood icebreaker, pulled alongside the black sand. A woman stepped onto the deck—Mina, her eyes tired but free of the neon-green glow. Beside her stood a thousand others, their faces grim and determined.