Voltron Ships Mga Nobela at Kwento

"You had a home. You had us." "I... I have a debt," Gideon gasped, staring up at me with terror in his eyes. "Then pay it," I said. Before I could tear his throat out, the bridge doors were blown off their hinges. Vanguard troopers flooded the room, their rifles glowing with lethal intent. "Target secured!" the lead trooper shouted. Gideon rolled away, grabbing his carbine and firing at the ceiling, causing the ship to tip violently. "Take them! Just take them and go!"

Mina said looking at the four golden warriors who were flying above them protectively. “What have you done? You have ruined everything, if my daughter dies because of your stupidity I will rip you to shreds and feed you to the sharks.” Triton said as his powers surged and water came from out of nowhere lifting him into the air. His hieroglyphics glowed not just blue but also gold, his trident appeared in his hand along with a golden crown that formed on his head.

Though the sound came from something big, there's no strong breeze of wind felt by those who're present on the ground. The beam that her aura caused was a signal to the fleet that is waiting outside the planet. The fleet is a hive fleet with four moon size bio-engineered sphere-shaped vessels called Viviendos. These massive ships are different from the one that destroyed one of the suns of Heavens Fall. Because of its size, it can be easily targeted and another weakness of these ships is their speed. They are a very slow moving ship. The advantages of these ships are the hive itself. One Viviendo carries around 700,000 fighters and 2,500 combined heavy cruisers and battleships. Weaponry: 200

At the center of the dry docks stood the pride of the new fleet: the Eclipse Leviathan. She was a colossal warship, three hundred feet long, clad in polished black steel and solar-gilded iron armour. Her towering masts were reinforced ironwood, able to hold sails woven from solar silk, resistant to fire. Her bow was a massive figurehead carved in the shape of a leaping obsidian wolf whose jaws cradled a blazing golden sunburst. In the bowels of the ship was a charmed plasma engine, connected to a tank of purified Crucible fire, capable of projecting an impenetrable solar-shadow shield around the whole ship.

Even the shifter who was looking down upon me was setting his dispute aside for the sake of Triton, their beloved pack and now mine. “As the Luna of this pack, I swear that we will not go to war,” I complied on my own will, taking the responsibility of driving the Triton's fate from its possible ruin. Irino was right, we wouldn't stand a chance against the South. We may have won the battle in 1700 but our chances at this time are very small. I just hope Alexei gets himself altogether and see the suspected danger he was willing to commit. And if he doesn't, I may have to do it in my own way... even if it means sacrificing what is must.

The sky above the valley didn't darken with clouds; it turned silver with a cold, geometric shadow. The Mother-Ship, a massive wedge of black carbon with pulsating violet strands, hung above the White Well like an executioner's blade. It was the "Vanguard," the last failsafe Dr. Thorne had put in deep-space orbit. It was set to descend only if the planetary Grid was in danger. As the scout transport rushed into Aethel-Luna's airspace, landing amidst swirling salt-dust and chaos, Elara jumped from the bay before the engines had even cooled.

​The molten orange glare of the geothermal siphon cast long, distorted shadows across the massive cavern of Sector 00. As the monolithic black titanium cylinder fully emerged from the liquid stone, the automated cooling manifolds began to hiss, spraying high-pressure nitrogen vapor that swirled around the towering Vanguard Titan Chassis 01.

He didn't throw a punch; he simply drove his open palm forward, unleashing the residual kinetic pressure stored in the relic's lattice. The resulting shockwave didn't just warp the air—it shattered the rain. A massive, concussive wall of invisible force slammed into the enforcer phalanx with the speed of a freight train. Riot shields splintered like cheap glass. Heavily armored soldiers were lifted completely off their feet, thrown backward into the concrete pillars and supply crates like discarded toys. The path to the VTOL was instantly cleared. "Move! Move! Move!" Torin roared, laying down a burst of suppressive fire into the catwalks above to keep any remaining snipers pinned down.

The call was made to the person in charge of the large ship factory in Southwest named Colton Lopez. The call was soon picked up. “Hello.” “Mr. Colton, I heard that Northwest’s Battle Warrior Zero placed with you an order for some battleships. Is that true?” asked Gracia. “Is this Gracia? It is true. They placed an urgent order, and I’ve already mobilized all the ship factories in Southwest to send out a portion of ships to the sea within a day,” replied Colton. “I received Battle Warrior Gale’s order on my side as well. I’d like to find out what Wyvern Peak is up to.”

[The Cradle of Shadows] The Vane interceptor groaned as it banked sharply away from the Highlands Vault, its thrusters screaming in protest against the manual override. Below them, the fleet of black gunships—Lucien’s personal hounds—scattered like startled crows, their formation broken by the sudden, erratic maneuver of the courier ship.