Kakamora Ship Novels & Stories

Ding Hao's pupils contracted. It was a battleship of the God's Palace Army. The black battleship was very aggressive like a shark swimming in the ocean. It quickly flew across the sky. When it got closer, one could see a black flag fluttering on the bow of the ship. The flag snapped in the void like an eagle. "It's the flag of the Moke Fleet from the God's Palace. This is the Moke Fleet!" "Oh heavens, it's actually the best guard camp of the God Emperor... Could it be that the God Emperor has personally come to battle?"

The sea was calm, deceptively so, its dark surface reflecting nothing of the violence about to bloom beneath it. The first breach came from below. Explosive bolts sheared through the hull with surgical accuracy, not enough to sink the ship, just enough to cripple propulsion and flood the lower engine room. Alarms screamed to life, panicked and overlapping. Crew scattered. Orders were shouted in three languages at once. Lucien surfaced with his team like a nightmare given form. Black wetsuits. Silent weapons. No wasted movement. He boarded without resistance, because resistance required time, and time was something Sakamura’s buyer no longer had.

Into his child. Finally, he nodded. “Then we go to them. On our terms.” The Mother Ship Mia pulled up the satellite feed again. The massive silhouette sliced through the Atlantic like a predator. It wasn’t a normal ship. Its structure was angular, brutal—an artificial island armored in plate metal and pulsing with internal energy. Cole stepped beside her. “That thing is the size of a small city.” “It’s worse,” Mia murmured. “It’s a floating fortress. A neural server. An AI womb.”

“Just look.” I frowned slightly before following his gaze. At first all I saw were cargo containers and workers moving around the docks. Then I noticed the black vans lined up near the far loading section. Too many of them. At least six. Maybe more parked farther back. Men moved quickly around the area, loading long wooden crates from a shipping container into the vans while armed guards stood nearby watching carefully. My expression hardened immediately. “What’s going on?” Peter’s voice lowered slightly. “Kagemoto Kazama is moving weapons.”

Kai By the time the ship draws near, it’s pretty clear that it’s Wyveronian. The flag’s stylized red dragon against the black background tells me as much, as does the ship’s name emblazoned on the side: Sea Flame. “At least they’re in human form,” Niko mumbles beside me. “Though, I’m pretty sure I can take ‘em regardless.” I exhale, turning to my Beta. “You’ve never once fought one of them. Hell, you’ve never even seen one of them shifted. Neither have I.”

Next to it was a small galley stocked with meat, eggs, flour, sugar, rice, lard, dried fruit, coffee, milk, barrels of water and rum and other supplies. Aki was more than happy to sling her hammock in the crow’s-nest high up on the ship’s mast. She kept mum about her intent to keep an eye out especially when they passed by the eastern continent, right before crossing the equator. She knew Imperial search parties would still be out looking for her. Because of her perch, Sasha saw fit to make her officer of the watch and lent her, with a great deal of reluctance, the speculum spyglass.

The Vamoos ship was more than five hundred feet long and consisted of a ram scoop, some very complex separators, and six cylinders, each of which was divided into multiple tanks. As with all the Vamoos race, the intelligence who controlled the ship and served as its single crew member was known by his job description, a rather lengthy affair that filled the brains of no less than 107 nonsentient storage beings, but could be Summerized as: "The one who travels vast distances in search of materials required to repair, maintain, and further Vamoos infrastructure to the benefit of the race".

said High Djinn Moraa. “They are, and so is Sebastian Larameer,” said Emery. “I killed Blok Howar at a blood den this last December, along with the elf who was with him, but the one involved tonight wasn't there.” They had three transports. Given their size and the difficulty of maneuvering them in populated cities and tight spaces, the CMMA arranged for them to land in specific locations and for packs and families to pick up their members at given coordinates.

Finally, Elise said, “If Orion’s still floating, we need eyes on it. Otherwise, every move we make is blind.” Sophia nodded. “We find it. Carefully.” --- Camilo’s Pacific contacts located a fishing vessel willing to scout the coordinates. Two days later, grainy footage arrived: a massive ship, painted white, drifting as if abandoned. No lights. No visible crew.