Sonadow Ship Novels & Stories

"One hour is all we need. I’m going with the first wave." "Elora, no," Thane started, but he saw the look in my eyes and stopped. He knew that the Eclipse Sovereign didn't lead from the rear. We launched under the cover of a moonless sky. The water of the bay was black and glassy, the only sound the soft lap of waves against the shadow-silk muffled hulls. As we approached the Jade perimeter, the bone-white ships loomed out of the fog like the ribcages of dead leviathans. They were beautiful, even in their broken state, glowing with a faint, dying amber light.

Blake was not steering; the boat was automated, tracking the dinghy's heat signature. "They have us," Evelyn whispered, gripping the edge of the dinghy. The pilot pointed toward a massive, dark shape on the horizon—a looming presence in the pre-dawn gloom. "Not yet. That's the rendezvous." The rendezvous wasn't another speedboat; it was a large, nondescript cargo vessel, sitting low in the water, its identification lights deliberately dimmed. It looked like any of the thousands of freighters that crossed the Caribbean. It was the Shadow Fleet—Mia’s ultimate extraction plan, utilizing a network of maritime contacts secured by the vast resources Evelyn had provided.

When he saw the lettering on the ship, his face sacked himself. Eirene Medical Research No relief. That's all right. “They did it.” Jonas turned to him. “Who are they? Asteria?’ John shook his head. “No, bad.” Elias grabbed the rows. “Let’s get out of here.” But John grabbed his arm. With surprising power. ‘No. It doesn't matter. You have radar. Heat image. You will find us in minutes.” The ship was hoping. It's a deep sound. Then a voice sounded over speaker.

And Caleb stood directly behind her, his hand resting at the small of her back a constant, grounding heat against the rising tide of her power. ​Before them sat the captured Southern fleet. Seven dreadnoughts, led by the Solaris, bobbed in the dark water. They were beautiful, gilded things, designed to reflect the sun and dazzle the eyes of "lesser" nations. ​“They are Sun-Bonded,” Silas said, his voice carrying a new, rhythmic resonance. “The Southern Scribes wove light-spells into the hulls. If a Northern hand touches the wheel, the ships will ignite. We cannot sail them as they are.”

Lights along its hull glowed softly, reflecting on the calm sea. The ship was far bigger than she'd imagined. "Is that the ship?" Alina asked quietly. Adrian followed her gaze. "Yes. That's the one that'll take you." The SUV stopped not far from the foot of the pier. The door opened. The night air hit Alina's face at once—cold, salty, mixed with the soft crash of waves against the dock pilings. Adrian got out first, then helped Alina out. The moment her feet touched the wooden planks of the pier, Alina could see the ship's form more clearly. Not an ordinary yacht. Three visible decks, large windows with drawn curtains, and a small flag fluttering gently on the main mast—an emblem she didn't

someone shouted. "I'm the King’s Silk Noose!" I screamed back. "And if you don't move, I'll hang you myself! Move!" They moved. It wasn't a march. It was a scramble. We ran through the smoke-filled streets toward the ridge overlooking the harbor. The Southern ships were huge, dark shapes in the water, their masts glowing with the light of the fires. I saw the flagship. The Lion’s Tooth. My father’s pride. "There." I pointed to the cluster of smaller boats on the left. "The supply line. Those are full of oil and grain. Hit them. Now!"

"Well. That was a mess." Damien winced. "Not over yet." Lena moved. In the distance, there was a flash of lights. Black SUVs waiting for them. Lena's heart tightened. There was no escape. Then Noah said, "There's one." They looked at him. He nodded past the docks. A cargo ship loomed in the distance, preparing to leave port. Its engines roared, its hull looming like a giant over the black. Lena understood in an instant. Damien frowned. "You want to stow away on that monstrosity?"

They were shoved around with tridents, and ordered around with gibberish-sounding words. "I think this means we are off to the dungeon," Sanders said. **** "This ship is a thousand years old?" Lindsey Miles was wide-eyed in amazement at what Garullo had just told her. Garullo's pair of antennas intertwine-release in a quick motion which Lindsey gather as some sort of a nod of confirmation. "This ship has practically stayed in Earth space for thousands of years now. It was abandoned, a long, long time ago. This was the beacon provided for us to find your planet,"

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.

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.