Chapter 8

There was no doubt about it. The K-M-TI lines had been successfully destroyed. Thirty attack submarines were immediately deployed and staked out at between Kyurii and Musashi to make up for the loss of the SOSUS lines.

INAZUMAN NAVAL HEADQUARTERS, INAZUMA, MUSASHI

Rear Admiral Sangonomiya Kokomi slammed a fist against the conference table, slumping against her chair. "Who... allowed... this... to happen?" Nagano Yukiko and Nagumo Ei glanced at each other. Kokomi's famous tempers were rare and much like natural disasters - spectacular and terrifying. She calmed down slightly, her fingers pressing her eyelids closed as if she were trying to ward off a bright light.

Ei cleared her throat nervously. "Apparently, the islands were hit with around 120 T-43 hypersonic missiles. Ozawa Island - specifically Kyushu Airfield - didn't have any anti-missile defenses, so all the fighter-bombers were essentially annihilated. Then, a Pontic LST unloaded and conquered the island." Kokomi sighed, shaking her head. "We have thirty submarines staked out there to make up for the loss of the K-M-TI line. It should do for now."

Kokomi's gaze returned to her map. "We need a landing on St. Petersburg. Four infantry divisions and two tank divisions. One self-propelled artillery division plus the howitzers the infantry has. Then, we can encircle and take Stalingrad and Leningrad. Keep the invasion force up with regular resupplying." Yukiko cast her gaze to the map as well, her finger tapping thoughtfully. "That will be at least... Eighty Akebono Marus and forty Chitose Marus." "The fleet will also need at least two hundred strike aircraft. Three Watatsumis and one Kyurii... Eight escorts... Five battleships and twelve battlecruisers. Minimum. More cruisers and destroyers." Kokomi tapped a graceful finger on her thigh. Yukiko nodded wordlessly as all three rose and left. There was work to be done.

EASTERNN FLEET BASE, PONTUS, POLYARNYY

The Kyurii Island Conquest was a complete success, Admiral Andre Narmonov mused to himself, as he watched the Akula-class nuclear attack submarines leave their heavily fortified docks. He hated submarines. They were never allies - all seamen knew there was no such thing as a friendly submarine. Sometimes they were useful enemies, yes, but not friends. Never friends. In fact, given how much Pontic naval doctrine disapproved of submarines, especially ballistic missile submarines, Narmonov was surprised they even existed. Commanders in the Strategic Rocket Forces were always placed strategically near paramilitary outposts in case some corporal or colonel came to realise the power at his fingertips.

But submarines could not be leashed. Their purpose was to not be discovered - by extension they could just disappear. He shook his head as the Severodvinsk and Kazan - both Akula-class submarines - disappeared into the depths of the ocean and turned away. His cigarette was burning out and he wanted a vodka.

THE SEVERODVINSK, ASTRAEN SEA, TWELVE MILES OFF MUSASHI

The submarine now lurking twelve miles off the Inazuman coast was known to the Inazuman navy as the Severodvinsk. This Akula-class attack sub was named for the legendary battle during the second Pontic-Inazuman War, where two ravaged Pontic divisions had bravely resisted an entire Inazuman field army for three weeks in the city of Severodvinsk. This was factually untrue; the city had only been held for two weeks before it was lost, but every Pontic soldier had fought to the death against the superior Inazuman forces, making the battle a genuine legend for all Pontic soldiers to emulate, and the nation had named it's greatest engineering marvel in its memory. Unfortunately, the Severodvinsk had enjoyed no better luck than the Pontic divisions had in the face of the Third Inazuman Armored Division.

The Severodvinsk's acoustical signature was labelled Akula 3 by the Valkyries. This was technically incorrect; she was the first of the Akulas. The spindle-shaped attack submarine had reached forty-five knots into her maiden trials. Those trials had been cut short only a minute later by an unbelievable mishap - a fifty-ton whale had somehow blundered into her path, and the Severodvinsk had rammed the unfortunate creature broadside. The impact had smashed in almost twelve square metres of bow plating, knocked every torpedo tube askew and annihilated the sonar dome, not accounting for shock damage to essentially every interior system.

A two-metre segment of the whale's rib was now a permanent fixture at the Eastern Fleet Naval Base in Polyarnyy, a dramatic testament to the strength of Pontic submarines; in fact the damage had taken nearly a year to repair, and by the times the Severodvinsk sailed again there were already two other Akulas in service. There had been more minor incidents since, and the Severodvinsk was forever marked a cursed ship.

Commander Vladimir Petchukov was a sailor, and therefore profoundly religious. However, he really wished he had sailed with some sprinkling of holy water. He really needed the luck. The Severodvinsk was having trouble with its radar system.

They were unable to pick up the signatures of tiny objects, and it would have been fine if they were not this close to the Inazuman coast. The Inazuman sea mines were fearsome; they could blow the entire submarine to hell. He had been tempted to order the sub to return to their tender, but a political officer had intervened, pointing out that their orders were urgent and explicit, and to do otherwise would be "politically unsound."

And that was that.

Petchukov bitterly remembered the look in his sailors' eyes. What was the purpose of a commanding officer if his every order was controlled by the whims of a political flunky? What was the point of specialists and engineers? Did the nation's leaders really think the laws of war could be overturned by the moods of some apparatchik with a heavy desk and a dacha in the suburbs of Gorkiy?

The captain swore to himself and took a gulp of vodka. He had a feeling this was the last time the Severodvinsk would ever sail, for better or for worse.