NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: Please only post here if you are in on this.]

The cold artic breeze blew relentlessly across the mouth of the fjord, making the job of the watch crew on the conn both extremely unpleasant and undesirable. The five men that stood there were all veterans of the sea, real submariners. To a man, they had all served at least 10 years at sea, and at least 3 on the Blue November. They were all part of Tupolev's inner circle as it were. Tupolev, the vessel's captain, was currently sitting aft in the wardroom, reading and rereading a copy of the letter he had despatched to fleet command before he had left. This whole thing was going to be a monumental gamble, but what were Missile Sub captains if not gamblers? The whole game was a risk, one mistake at the depths they sailed and it would all be over.

The vessel was the Blue November, a state of the art Typhoon class Missile Submarine with a revoultionary new drive system, and icnreased missile capacity. Added to this, the ship had a hand picked crew, something unheard of in the navy, but then again Tupolev truly was a remarkable Sub Driver. Carefully and cautiously, he tucked the letter into his pocket and strode forth to the command room. The mood in the room was that of quiet apprehension, only 5 officers were in on the conspiracy, and all of them were currently in the Control Room, bar one, Mezhekin, the chief engineer, who was seeing to his beloved reactor. Also in the room was the man Nikolaivich, the ship's politcal officer. He would have to be dealt with, thought Tupolev to himself. Beneath his feet he could feel the boat gently swaying, it was a wonderful feeling. It only took a moment's study of the sophisticated GPS and charts to work out that the Sub was now 50km out of their home base, and at the required diving station. The navigator, a young sailor by the name of Gagarin looked at the charts, and then at the skipper for confirmation. Tupolev nodded, and the navigator sent the signal.
"All hands, diving stations......"
What followed was totally routine to a submarine, as the sirens wailed and various levels and sluices were operated, the submarine began to serenly sink beneath the waves at a steady rate of 12 knots. Within 7 minutes, the boat was cruising at a safe depth of 34 metres. Looking at his watch, the captain decided it was time to get his 'orders'. Taking the key from his neck tie, he hurried back to the ward room, where Nikolaivich was waiting by the safe that contained the 'orders', unknowning of the growing conspiracy and threat to his very life. Tupolev smiled politely, and put his key into the hole, so did Nikolaivich, and the safe was swung open. A manilla envelope was drawn out, and the two men began to walk over to the table to read the orders, only the politcal officer didnt quite make it that far.......

_______________


"MEDICAL OFFICER AFT!"

No response. Tupolev bellowed again, as he finished pouring his mug of tea over Nikolaivich's feet, and the deck.
"MEDICAL OFFICER AFT OR THERE'LL BE A CHARGE...."
30 Seconds later, the ship's physiician appeared, panting. His eyes went wide when he saw what had happened.
"Oh my...."
On the floor lay Nikolaivich, dead. His neck was broken and there was some bruising on his neck. The tea on the deck was convincing enough.
"He slipped, I couldn't stop him...." Tupolev feigned remoarse very convincingly, hoping to trick the medic.
"Are you sure, is this what happened?"
He wasn't biting.
"Yes of course! How dare you question a Captain!....." Again Tupolev pretended to be very distressed. Suddenly his mood swung to quiet rage, his knuckles went white.
"Only, if you had been here earlier, when I had first called......"
This shut the doctor up, his face went pale. He knew full well how well connected the captain was, it would be a huge mistake to make an enemy of him.
"No, certainly not Comrade, I only meant...."
Tupolev sighed.
"I'm sorry Doctor, I am just so overcome, it was so sudden...."
The doctor put a hand on the Captain's shoulder, thankful that the threat had passed.
"Understandable Comrade Captain, I will get some tea for us......."
The doctor bustled back through to the control room, issuing some quick orders, something along the lines of gettig the body stowed away, Tupolev couldn't quite hear. At this point the navigation officer, one of the conspiracy, Gagarin, came aft. He saw the body and just nodded sullenly. Tupolev broke his act momentarily and smiled slightly.
"A great shame Comrade Navigator, but all in the line of duty..."
"Indeed, he was a good man. Wrong place, wrong time."
"Certainly. Anyway, the game is afoot....."

Murmansk

The Soviet submarine base in Murmansk was alive with naval activity. Ships came and went as tug boats escorted cruisers and destroyers, just in from exercises in the North Atlantic. A bitter wind whipped through the sound and inlets. Repairmen worked tirelessly to maintain the massive Soviet base with it's vessels and equipment. Deck crews braved the North Atlantic winds to tie the mooring lines to the piers. Heaving the lines to the pier crews and wrapping the heavey lines around the bollards, securing the ships to dock for resupply and refitting.

A tall, handsome man in his Soviet naval officer uniform and jacket walked with powerful strides down the sidewalk of a city street. He made his way cautiously up the frozen steps and produced a key from his pocket. He inserted the key, turning it and opening the door which allowed a blast of warm air to brush across his face, it was inviting. The man entered the well-off apartment and stomped his feet on the carpet.
"Papa's home!" a young girl shouted. There was a patter of small feet down the stairs to the right and two small girls emerged. Tanya was eight and Kira, five stood before their father. They smiled and catapaulted into his arms as he knelt down.
"Children! How are you two fine young ladies doing?" he inquired as he picked them up, one in each arm. They giggled and squirmed and he finally let them down. A woman emerged from the kitchen, wipping her hands from flour and leaned up against the frame of the doorway. Her hair was shoulder length blonde and her green eyes flickered.
"Mattias, it's about time you got home" she reminded him.
"The admiral kept me late today, I have great news, Anya" he replied and walked up to her and they kissed.
"What news is this?" she inquired, folding her arms and returning to the kitchen.
"My boat will be departing tomorrow for an exercise of monumental importance" he said with a grin.
"How is that good news? You'll be gone!" she exclaimed. Mattias Konovski was a Captain 2nd Class and commanding officer of K-517 Arkhangel, an Akula class attack submarine.
"Don't worry" he reassured her, rubbing his hands on her shoulders "When I return, we'll travel somewhere nice"
"Where? It would take weeks to get the papers in order" she sighed.
"Nonsense, the admiral promised me that I could travel wherever I chose. How does Romania sound? I heard it is quite beautiful there" They continued to chat and the family sat down at the table and ate dinner. The girls told stories of their days adventures, their father told them about sailing on the ocean.

HNoMS Stadt (S-307)
36 nautical miles off the North Cape

Bjørn Johansen looked around in the red-bathed control room, watching his crew do their jobs. Most of them were green conscripts, boys no more than nineteen or twenty years old, doing their mandatory fifteen months of military service aboard the Stadt, an aging Kobben-class diesel-electric submarine, number thirteen of a total of fifteen ships in the class, which was currently serving in its eighteenth year of faithful service to the Royal Norwegian Navy and the Kingdom of Norway. Bjørn Johansen had been the commanding officer of the submarine for a year now, and this was the second time he broke in a new crew.

"All hands are at action stations skipper," The executive officer, løytnant Per Åmot said quietly after a few seconds.

"Forty-one seconds. Good. Good." Johansen replied, stopping the stopwatch he normally used for timing torpedo runs and, in this case, a readiness drill. "Good. Well keep the crew at action stations for ten more minutes, then have them stand down."

He paused and looked over to the sonar operator, a twenty year old petty officer from the northern parts of Norway who had been aboard for three months, with another nine left of his mandatory service time. Taking the two steps it was to the sonar station, he bent over the petty officer's shoulder and looked at the readout. While the Stadt had been in service since 1966, she had been constantly refitted with new technology which enabled her to conduct these patrols in the icy Barents Sea.

Norway was in a special position. Being the only NATO nation directly bordering Russia, the leading nation in the Soviet Union, it was the first target of any Soviet attack against western Europe and NATO, requiring it to maintain a firm and credible defense capability against the one million Soviet troops that were garrisoned on the Kola peninsula with one objective in case of war: turn the Kingdom of Norway into Norveskaja Oblast. Of course, this was something that the Norwegians and especially NATO didn't want to happen, as Norway provided NATO with an ideal position in the north, where any Soviet submarine that attempted to get into the North Atlantic needed to pass. The No.333 Squadron of the Royal Norwegian Air Force preformed daily patrol missions over here with their P-3B Orions, and US, UK and Norwegian submarines also constantly patrolled this area, listening for any Soviet submarine or ship that might try to exit. They were greatly aided by the SOSUS system that the US had, but it didn't pick up all the Soviet subs, noisy as they might be. That was why NATO kept their own submarines up here on patrol, and that was why kapteinløytnant Bjørn Johansen and HNoMS Stadt was here right now, on a standard patrol.

"Anything?" He asked the petty officer, who just shook his head.

"Nothing skipper."

"Very well. Keep listening."

K-517 Arkhangel

The next day was a proud day for Konovski as he stepped across the gangplank and onto the sleak steel hunter which he commanded. The cold wind did not bother him as he carefully slid down the hatch and into a new world, a world he knew so well over the past few years. He joined the other 25 officers and 26 enlisted abaord the nuclear attack sub. It was a lethal and sleak machine, which he respected greatly. Men went about their duties aboard the Arkhangel with fluidity and efficency. They were well trained and drilled on each specific job. The submarine featured a double hull system which increased the strength reserve, allowing the sub to dive to a deeper depth and one of the quietest nuclear attack subs in service. Konovski was proud to serve on such a vesserl. His second in command, Vassili Arkoff approached him as he made his way to the cabin. The cabin was small and confining but it didn't bother him in the least. It offered some privacy, something rare in the Soviet Union.
"Matias, how is the family?" Arkoff asked once inside. Konovski removed his cap and coat and stretched his back.
"They do well, the children are spirited and the wife concerned for my well being." he replied "And yours?"
"My wife insists I should take a shore duty so that I will not be so far away from her."Arkoff replied, leaning up against the bulkhead. THey caught up and then went back to the conn and took their posts.
"Mr.Arkoff" Konovski said in an audable and authorative voice but not too assertive. "Ease us out and set to sea" he ordered. The Arkhangel began to tow out of the dockyards, escorted by a tugboat. Upon departing the inlet with the open sea ahead of them, Konovski walked about, checking on the various stations.
"Prepare to dive, set depth to 30 meters and increase speed to 25 knots" he ordered. The sound for diving resounded through the ship and the engineers int he engine room geared the sub. The Arkhangel slid undfer the cold ocean water and into the depths. Everything ran normally and Konovski settled into the captain's chair and enjoyed the orchestra infront of him, a thing of beauty. Sonar station down in the submarine maintained a vigilant guard, ready to spot anything. Their journey began...

OOC: The Reuben James is stationed in Hawaii. So, I pick another ship of the same class.

Mayport, Florida

The frigate USS Underwood departed Mayport to begin it's patrol in the Atlantic. The Underwood was a Oliver Hazard Perry-class, and was a good ASW platform. Cdm. Robert Johnson sat in the bridge watching the sea as the vessel steams to the sea and begans it's patrol.

Andrew Kight enterd the subarine "Primrose" for the first time. This was his first official day as a submarine commander. He went below and met his crew.

A little while later the "Primrose" set off on her maiden voyage. Andrew had been ordered to patrol the Atlantic. He was setting off from Florida, and headed for New York. Then he would head to Europe.

The orders, which would be displayed to the crew at a later date, were shown to the officers. They were fabricated of course, but only the officers in the plot knew this, and none of the lower officers would dare question the word of the famous Tupolev. The orders were to make a run to the otherside of the pond, to America, and stay undetected at all costs. It was a simple exercise to test out their new drive system, and thoroughly humiliate the imperialists. All perfectly innocent in these dark days and it all seemed very plausible as the two forces subs regularly tried such stunts in the Atlantic routinely. Not forgetting there was the promise of a long holiday on sunny shores with their brothers in Cuba if they succeeded.

Satisfied with the way things were going, the November kept ently gliding out towards the North Sea, confident in her abilities.