Ventress Ship Novels & Stories

"And whoever holds the valve owns the company." Through the three-foot breach in the tunnel floor, the gray light of the Lagos dawn was finally beginning to penetrate the silt. It wasn't a clean morning. The sky above the shipping channel was a bruised, heavy purple, filled with the black smoke of the leading Vane-Global warship as its own automated missile struck the bridge structure three hundred yards away. The explosion didn't sound like thunder; it was a flat, metallic thrum that sent a two-foot tidal wave surging across the open lagoon, the water sizzling as it hit the high-voltage lines hanging from the tilted telephone poles.

His right arm, encased in heavy white surgical plaster, throbbed with a burning, rhythmic agony inside its silk sling. Yes, Mr. Vance! The Vance Monarch, the Vance Sovereign, and the Vance Titan have all completely bypassed the southern straits, Harris, the chief logistics director, yelled back as he slammed his hands onto his keyboard. We went completely dark on the main maritime grid. We are entirely outside of Damian Thorne's primary shipping territory!

A massive, towering wall of boiling mud and superheated black water erupted from the abyss, tearing through the sea-wolf flagship's void-iron hull and shattering its pressure seals with deafening, metallic screeches. Beta Vance stood at the helm, his golden eyes flashing with a fierce, triumphant resonance as he navigated the ship through the boiling chaos. "The enemy flagship is sinking, Queen Lyra! Their hull has collapsed under the pressure backlash!" "Keep the pressure on their flanks, Vance!" I commanded, my fangs fully extended past my lips as a cold, predatory smile cut through the darkness. "Let the trench swallow them whole."

"Proceed." "A heavy freight vessel registered under the Maurice network ran aground in the third quadrant of North Port thirty minutes ago," Drake explained, pausing briefly. "The official public bulletin claims a localized collision with a subterranean reef. However, internal tracking indicates that the 'proprietary biological cargo' transported from their initial laboratory sector initiated a massive systemic containment breach within the lower decks. The security detail failed to manage the volatility; three handlers have been terminated."

​ The paper​ was thin, almost transparent,​ its edge​s charred as if it had⁠ been pulled​ fro​m a furnace before th‍e files were boxe‍d. "Look at the f​u‍el logs, Damien," sh​e whispered, h⁠er voice tight with a sudden, sh‍arp‌ intensity that made him l⁠ook up instantly. "The fuel logs?" "The‌ *Marian​ne-Marie* left the Rotte​rda‌m doc‌ks on November twelve, nin‌eteen-fo‌rty‍-five," Celeste said, her finger tracing a smudged⁠ purple line of ink. "Hein⁠rich Vance⁠ sign‌e‌d t​h‍e cl‌e​ar​ance fo​rm s​tating th⁠e s‍h‍ip was carrying twelve h​undred tons of st‍ruct⁠ural ste​el fo​r the reconstruction of the Luxembourg rail lines‍. He clai⁠med the ful⁠l val⁠ue agains​t my mother’s so⁠vereign res

He hardened his muscle to ease the pressure as he conjured a sword to cut the rope. Morozko charged toward Matthew like an unstoppable train and crashed his body into Matthew. They both went through the main mast and crashed into the cabin behind. The masts began falling on one another. The masts crashed down on the ship and brought further damage, tilting it so much that it began sinking.

Freckles had found a fresh broadsheet somewhere and was practising making faces at my portrait when Jas snatched it, tore it neatly in thirds, and fed it to the galley fire. "Galley thanks you," Berrit said. "Smoke's better quality now." I checked lines by habit. The wind settled from flirt to favour. The Wraith took it with smug innocence. "SAIL!" Old Noll's squint sharpened. His arm came up, pointing where horizon might have been if ships didn't insist on ruining straight lines. "Two! Leeward, big belly, pretty paint, Morcant colours." "Escort," Harp added, seeing what Old Noll's bones felt before the rest of us could squint: the smaller sloop tucked in the brig's lee, flying a crown penna

"Good, I grow tired of waiting. If by dawn this Outsider has not arrived I intend to depart with the force we have. Mourndark is waiting. If we are late it will be on my head! I will not have it!" "Shall I give the order, Sir?" "If we are still on our own in three hours. We'll be under way soon enough." Barely had he spoken those words when his cabin was lit by a blinding flash. The bright flash lit up the void, filling the once empty space with a three kilometers worth of warship. The ships nearby were taken by surprise and scattered like leaves in the wind, taking defensive positions. "Jump 239 complete. Just under 2k drift. Right where we're supposed to be sir."

I screeched, gripping his wrist with both hands and trying to pull away from him. "No can do." He pushed me up the stairs in front of him as we ascended to the upper desk. I opened my mouth to protest further but was quickly stunned into silence at the sight before me. It was incredible, something out of a fairytale. A massive man-of-war ship was rocking in the waves only yards from the smaller cruise ship that had been my ride to port in Valoria. Its size was nearly triple in comparison to my boat, stretching four stories out of the water with sails that would have covered the length of my boat twice over. Though it looked vintage, its sails were clearly just for show, as it was powered by