Rodamrix #ships Novels & Stories

Hands slowly coming to the table, like a woken animal, “We’re offering long-term volume that makes those look like side gigs.” “Everyone says that before quarterly reports drop...” Zee fired back without missing a beat. Then she looked at me, I wondered what she wanted me to say when she seemed to have it all together, “But fine... New angle...” she said spontaneously, still holding those pupils at me, my guess was that she thought I'd disapprove? I'd have rather had her handle the meeting herself if I could, “Oliver?” “Three new Ro-Ro vessels of the six in production arrive in five days from Korea. We load directly onto them.” Claymore added, and the room suddenly fell into stunned silence.

Roman reached out and pulled the ship’s logbook from the desk, stuffing it into his vest. ​"Tell Arthur I said thank you for the donation," Roman said. "It’s going to a very good cause. A wedding gift, you might say." ​Roman jumped back onto the pier as the last diver cleared the hold, carrying the final case of bonds. They didn't head for the vans. They headed for the water. Two high-speed RIBs (Rigid Inflatable Boats) roared out from under the pier, their matte-black hulls invisible against the waves.

~Stargem: Rewrite~ Sephtis' fleet arrived at the Crimson Gate and joined the Blood Fleet. Right behind the legions of ships is the Excelente Class World Destroyer Ship. This ship is powered by four dark magic crystals and is 40,000 km in length (front to back), and has a height of 15-20,000 km. This monstrous ship has a large lazer barrel in front and as the name says, it can destroy worlds. This is only one of the 4 Excelente Class that serve as a flagship of the Forgotten Navy. The ship where Sephtis is, docks inside it and a man can be seen looking down from the hangar observatory deck wearing black robe with a golden sash.

with his bloodied arm, testament to a wolf sharpshooter who had almost ended him before a cannon shot from Grey Thunder had blown him into the water. "High Marshall, reports from the ships: 6 ships sunk, 4 ships currently taking in water with the crews engaged in heavy fighting with the werewolf borders so repairs are totally out of question, 5 other ships are currently battling it out with the Werekult boats; we've been able to sink 5 of theirs so far with 2 of their ships critically damaged,

Rage and hate poured from him in a sickly red aura. Methodically, like he knew he was being watched, he turned to the side, revealing a ship. White with orange trim. Lifesavers mounted to the starboard dipped and rose with the tide. Distorted blue letters were printed on the rear stern, but she couldn't read them through the haze.

It wasn't an explosion; it was the sound of the ocean being displaced by a massive, surfacing force. Every radar screen in the stateroom suddenly lit up with a blinding, frantic red. [WARNING: UNKNOWN SIGNALS DETECTED. MULTIPLE CONTACTS RISING.] Twelve separate signatures began to breach the surface, surrounding the destroyer and Landon’s Virginia-class fleet. These weren't standard military vessels. They were sleek, charcoal-black hulls with no markings—except for a single, massive emblem painted in blood-red across their conning towers. A Black Rose. Ava stood before the window, her dark hair whipped into a frenzy by the ventilation, a true, predatory smile finally blooming on her lips.

Dmitry shouted, pointing toward the heavy iron chain linking the third iron-clad to the siphon platform. "Dmitry, with me," Natalia said, her silver aura exploding outward from her blades, cutting a clear path through the white mist on the deck. "Vance, bring us alongside!" The Royal Vanguard didn't slow down. Using its massive paddle wheels to perform a brutal, high-speed pivot, the flagship rammed its Lycan-shaped prow directly into the side of the enemy tow-ship. The iron wolf ram sheared through the western vessel’s plating with a horrific, grinding crunch, locking the two massive iron structures together mid-water.

Their hulls cut through the cold grey water while fires burn aboard several vessels, casting orange reflections across the waves. Smaller boats weave between the larger ships, suggesting troop landings or naval skirmishes. The battle is already underway. Flaming projectiles arc through the air from both ships and city defences, leaving glowing trails of sparks and smoke. Fires burn across multiple parts of the city and harbour. Thick columns of black smoke rise from rooftops, dockyards and shattered buildings, drifting upward and partially obscuring sections of the skyline. To the west, the corrompido army gathered at the main gate can be seen as patches of black and further fire and smoke s

Videl.. The crossing felt like driving into the mouth of a storm that refused to break. The amphibious Breakers—low-profile, heavy-armored vessels designed for stealth—cut through the black water of the channel with a predatory hum. Inside the lead vehicle, the air was pressurized and silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of Oliver’s keyboard. For thirteen years, this stretch of ocean had been a graveyard. The energy field used to scramble navigation systems and shut down engines, leaving anyone who tried to cross to drown in the dark.

Just after Maxwell cleverly handled Thomas’s issues and believed he wouldn’t have anything to worry about in that end, a reeling tragedy struck. It struck in the form of Rohan Fleetmaster. The 860-foot-long ship that Maxwell had gotten for transporting Rohan Automotive Inc. vehicles and any sea-related transports. Maxwell got the news that the huge ship with nine internal decks had sunk in the Mediterranean Sea with the cargo of 6,000 cars it was carrying. The huge $72, 000, 000, 000 tied to the exotic cars that the containers were carrying was the worst loss Maxwell had ever had to deal with since he started business and investment.