Rodamrix #ships Novels & Stories

‘What is this merchant ship in front of me?’ “H-How is this possible? Am I seeing things? The all-out blows of the four peak Infinity Rankers didn’t even shake that damned ship at all, and they were also injured? Is that a merchant ship or a mobile military fortress?” One of the three leading space pirates asked in disbelief. “Come, let’s go over together. I want to see how high this merchant ship’s defense power is,” Boss said with a gloomy face.

Vanessa, still reloading her rifle, snapped her head up, already alert. “What is it?” The screen flickered, displaying satellite footage of something massive rising from the depths of the ocean floor. Impossible. The Return of the Nightmare Rook’s voice crackled through the cockpit comms, strained but urgent: “We’ve got multiple signatures... coming up fast!” Through the storm-filled horizon, dark shapes emerged, pushing through the churning waves. A fleet of unmanned warships, their steel hulls gleaming, automated and deadly. At the center of the advancing armada...

she said, with a small smile. “Raul definitely helped save our asses last night. If he’s a Shadow, and your friend, I’ll trust him. I think Nate would agree. The way he was ripping off heads was pretty fucking cool. Not to mention vamps can smell a rogue a mile away. We’d have a lot of warning,” I said, thinking about it. “Oh and do you know when I can get the hell outta here,” I asked.

"Kaelor, look at the signatures of the ships above." "What am I looking at?" "They aren't Aethelgard ships. Those are Navia hulls. Steam-engines and salvaged iron." Aradaa’s heart sank. "It’s the humans. A 'New Republic.' They aren't trying to claim the ship... they’re trying to kill the 'Beast in the Deep.' They’re afraid of us." "Those are our people!" Kaelor shouted. "Why are they dropping fire on our heads?" A new signal pulsed on the sonar—a familiar, sharp encryption.

Mara’s teams worked frantically to shore up the support beams with quick-set foam and ironwood braces. ​Then, the response came. ​It wasn't a voice. It was a Burst of Light. ​From the dark side of the moon, a single, massive ship detached itself from the main blockade. It didn't look like the Sterling monoliths. It was covered in salvaged hulls, mismatched thrusters, and—impossibly—patches of glowing green moss. ​The Exhale Flagship: The Respiration. ​The Price of the Signal ​As the Respiration began its descent, the two remaining Consolidators turned their weapons toward the newcomer. A space-battle erupted in the upper atmosphere, lighting the sky in shades of violent purple and gold.

Lard the arcane welding engineer and his faithful brother in arms, Garth his voice of reason and muscle. Romera sits at the hedge and tip of the sun. She wears her normal pirates’ clothes that consist of a split, chest-up shirt, high capris, and makasons. Her frail and slender body leans over the railing of the ship and with those orbs of hers she sees what seems to be like the endless sky below them, then in front of them, and finally all around them. In her hand is a bottle of rum and in the other a used and abused wine glass. With purpose, she fills up that glass about halfway until the rim meets her red-coated lips. The fluid drips down her throat and she drinks it all in one swig before

Alpha Damon’s POV The forest grows darker, the swirls of the wind a color of white smoke penetrating my skin. The winds howl, trees laugh, the birds threaten, and the cold bites with every step I take. The land beneath my feet breaths sinking me deeper and deeper until I reach the end of the tattered black iron gate hoisting crows as the guards, bats as the protectors, and skulls as the deity. “Alpha Damon, the king of the wolves.”, The voice cold and shrieky echoes in the air, the smoky wind leaving my body, entering the gates marking the start of the territory of the witches.

The three-ton wolf let out a low, tired sigh, his head lowering onto his paws as the violet fire in his sockets settled back into a peaceful, watchful ember. "The... the docking clamps are open, Zora," Kemi whispered, her voice shaking as she looked out over the six massive cargo ships that were now completely free of their corporate chains. "The... the whole fleet is ours. And the sector six Spires... they don't have a database left to log our debt."

“And they’re not friendly.” I felt my heart drop into my stomach as I followed his gaze. Sure enough, dark shapes loomed on the edge of the horizon, moving steadily closer. Enemy ships. And there were more of them than I could count. “They’ve found us,” I whispered, dread curling in my gut. “Aye,” Roderick said, his voice low. “And they’re not here for a chat.” Leo clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the approaching ships. “We need to get ready. Gather the men, arm them. We fight if we have to.”

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”