Mineta Ships Novels & Stories

“And what of our flying ships? Surely they have bombed the Medietans and inflicted heavy casualties on them.” Another man stood up and cleared his throat. “It’s quite the opposite, Your Majesty.” The emperor destroyed another table. “Do I have your permission to continue, Your Majesty?” “Speak as you wish!” “When the Medietans captured Medietapolis Air Force Base, five of our best flying ships were destroyed. Another two were captured and flown into the air, but the Medietan pilots had no idea how to fly them and crashed both of them. “And yesterday evening, a squadron of ten Iskender-class reconnaissance flying ships were ambushed by Medietan fighter planes while performing scouting duties

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.

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.

The white text—INITIALIZING EXCLUSIONARY ISOLATION PROTOCOL—fractured into meaningless vertical lines of dead code before going completely dark. Outside the shattered dome, the effect was instantaneous. The three battleships let out a synchronized, metallic groan that shook the low clouds. Their white navigation lights flickered, died, and then restarted in a low, disorganized amber emergency pulse. Their prows drifted wide, caught by the high-altitude gale, completely stripped of their centralized coordination. They weren't an invading fleet anymore; they were just blind metal hulls looking for a port that no longer existed on their maps. "The diagnostic line..." Kemi breathed, her jaw drop

The Sovereign Fleet As the last piece of the code clicked into place the VALE_09 engine showed a detailed map on the library's screens. The North Atlantic area, which had been the focus of their fight for the three years, was completely dark.. The Pacific Rim was lit up with dozens of green nodes. Elena's eyes got wide as she sorted out the hidden assets into a list of what was most important: The Shadow Fleet: More than forty big cargo ships operating out of Singapore with no visible connection to the Vane company.

Aika: Retrieve successful! Yesha appears on the bridge of her ship. The DJS Light of the Grey is a heavy destroyer fully crewed with 60 men and women supporting The Directive Dimensional Fleet. A common design of the heavy destroyer ships of The Directive is having almost the same schematics as a battle cruiser stripped of the missile and torpedo pods. A destroyer degrades further with the removal of the railgun. Both types of destroyers have a tonnage or 200000 tons.

"If it's operational, two weeks. I need parts." "Are there other toys you want to share?" Marinah inquires. Nokita is not enjoying his time in the spotlight while Marinah drills him. I never realized how fun it is looking at things from the outside while someone else leads. I cross my arms and relax somewhat. "We have a quad mini-sub that is seaworthy once the scrubber is fixed," he says. "That should take a couple of days at most." "What about an update on land vehicles?" she fires at him next.

The digital alert on Elena Rossi's tablet flashed crimson, displaying a high-resolution satellite radar feed of the Strait of Messina. Three dark, unflagged gunboats circled the northern entrance of the channel, blocking the deepwater transit lane as the seventy-thousand-ton container vessel Ligurian Monarch approached the strait under reduced throttle. Sea spray flew from the bows of the pirate craft as they cut across the commercial shipping corridor. High-resolution telemetry showed five-inch deck guns mounted on the bows of the blockade boats.

The blue ship was there, its wooden hull riding low in a harbor that looked less like water and more like the deep, unwritten reservoir of the world before the Spire gave it a name. Xander stood over the table, his breath coming in ragged, freezing gasps that turned to mist in the morning air. His fingers, still stained with the ash of the willow timber and the black grease of the Enforcer’s hydraulic fluid, gripped the edge of the wood until the joints went white. "That's Mia’s ship," he whispered, his eyes locked on the microscopic sails that were made of the same jagged, carved light as our wooden stars. "But Elias said they sailed into the margins. He said they were waiting in the gaps."

The fiber had an amazing tensile strength that could pull even a large ship. Speaking of which, theirs was a cargo vessel called a longship. It had one mast with a square sail, presently furled, and was mainly used for transporting seafood, whale oil and various contraptions to the south and bringing back rubber, rope, and luscious tropical fruits to the north. This time, Aki, Sasha and Temujin wouldn’t be bringing with them any products for trade, only provisions.