Kirov Saga Men of War

Chapter 12



ZolotoyDrakon, or the Golden Dragon, was in the growing Chinatown district near the naval moorings in Vladivostok harbor, up a plain street of weathered storefronts and eateries that were slowly remodeling for the new tourism business.

The dinner house itself was nicely appointed, with white table linen, candle light, a solitary orchid for an elegant centerpiece, and clean long-stemmed crystal wine glasses. Admiral Volsky settled into the comfortable high backed chair with Karpov and Fedorov, the irony of the moment not lost on him when Karpov mentioned their second choice for the meeting was the popular Yamato Sushi bar a few blocks north off the wharf district.

“Here we are, home at last, and settling in for Chinese food instead of a good borscht!”

“Things could be worse, Admiral,” said Fedorov. “The Captain here suggested sushi, but somehow I could not bring myself to that just yet after what we have just experienced.”

“Well, things are heating up again around the islands northeast of Taiwan,” said Volsky. “The Japanese have a destroyer flotilla on maneuvers and Abramov informed me this morning that the government has received a formal request for a combined show of force in the East China Sea. They want us to send a few ships to join the party. Two of their new destroyers are set to deploy from a Zhanjiang, the Lanzhou and Haikou.”

“Those are updated destroyers,” said Karpov, “their newest designs.”

“Correct,” said Volsky. “Which means we can’t very well send out a couple of old Udaloy class ships. It would be embarrassing. Here we taught them virtually everything they know about building a navy, shipped them the necessary weapons, and then watched them buy most of our carriers and start out producing us at our own game. We will have to send the frigate Golovko and the destroyer Orlan. Those are the only two ships we have that could show up dressed well enough to make any impression on the Chinese.”

“Excuse me, Admiral,” said Fedorov. “But why send any ships at all? It will just be a provocation. We send a flotilla, the Japanese send one, and on it goes. The next thing we know we are reading those headlines in the newspaper we found on Malus island.”

“I understand exactly what you are saying, Fedorov, But Abramov says he has been ordered to send the ships, and until the Naval Inspectorate completes this business over Kirov, he remains the nominal Fleet Commander for another week The orders have already been cut.”

“Why not speak with him, Admiral? Convince him this is useless escalation.”

“I have spoken with him, and he agrees, but that does not change the fact that he has orders from Moscow. Yes, Admirals get orders too. Hopefully this sortie will be nothing more than a dog and pony show. But in the meantime, gentlemen, I suggest we all get used to eating Chinese food. What do I do with these?” He held up his chopsticks, winking at them. Then he settled in to a more serious tone.

“How are things going aboard Kirov, Karpov?”

“Not as well as I might hope. We lost a man yesterday—an apparent suicide—Voloshin.”

“Suicide? Did Zolkin say anything about it?”

“He said the man was having nightmares, like we all are these days. On top of that it looks like his wife and family ran out on him.”

Volsky shook his head, deeply troubled by the news. “We must do more for the crew, be more vigilant and see to their needs. They have been through hell and back.”

“The Inspection isn’t helping matters either. This Captain Volkov is a bit of a ramrod. He’s been walking the ship, talking with the men, prying into compartments below decks. Yesterday he was jousting with Doctor Zolkin. Today he spent half the day with Chief Byko.”

“Zolkin? What did he want with him?”

“Ship’s medical records. Reports on the men we lost during our little odyssey through the 1940s. It still sounds crazy every time I think of it.”

“I have a bad feeling about that man,” said Fedorov. “He seems like a dog pulling on a rope. We did our best to cover things up, and our story seems to be holding for the moment, but a man like that can be trouble, and there will likely be things we overlooked or failed to consider completely. Everything that man uncovers will just make him want to dig deeper.”

“Medical records…” Volsky thought about that. “What would he want with medical records of the men we lost?”

There was a silence at the table, and then Karpov put his napkin down and spoke. “We may have a problem here, Admiral. I received a communication from the Naval Personnel Records Bureau. It was addressed to me personally, and came in through Nikolin’s board, properly coded, so that makes it an order.”

“What did they want?” Volsky had been so busy facilitating Dobrynin’s project and conferring with Abramov that he had been out of the loop on ship’s matters.

“They wanted me to transfer any and all information from ship’s records on the men we lost. I told them that data was wiped out when the computers were damaged in the accident, but they mentioned hard files on three men. These were the men in the aft citadel when it got hit, and being Junior Grade Lieutenants or higher, they had to submit a file to Zolkin when they signed on. The Doctor overlooked these records when we purged our digital systems. Volkov found them.”

“So what is the problem?” Volsky did not understand.

“The problem is that the Personnel Division has no other information on these men. They say they have no record of them ever being assigned to Kirov. In fact, they say they have no record of them at all.”

“That’s ridiculous. That was Denikin, Krasnov and Rykov. I selected all three for their assignment here and got them set up in the battle bridge to complete their training for regular rotation onto the main bridge. Now I’ll be writing the letters to their family. What do they mean, no records?”

“It’s not just those three sir. They have nothing on any of the men we lost. Inspector Kapustin and his little wolf hound Volkov have been looking over the list of the entire ship’s compliment and verifying background checks on every man with Naval Intelligence.”

“Background checks?” Volsky seemed upset now.

“Yes, sir. I think they may suspect sabotage as a possible reason for some of the damage we sustained. Put that next to the fact that there is still a low simmer of talk in the ranks about what happened in the Atlantic, and this situation could get ugly very soon. You know they’re going to check the lock box on the special warheads, and verify all three are still in the magazine with Martinov.”

“I’ve considered that,” said Volsky heavily. “I suppose I can take it upon myself and say that I ordered the number ten MOS-III missile fired as part of our exercises, but that would be most irregular. A nuclear weapon is never used in such scenarios. Never. To say I ordered it would be to pit my present rank and authority against the entire Naval Board in Moscow, and they won’t like it. Suchkov is already hollering for my head on a platter. It would be just the thing he needs to turn a few more heads in his direction.”

“Forgive me again, Admiral. This is of course all my fault.”

“We both know it, Karpov. No need to go over that again.”

“Then also forgive what I will say next. I didn’t rise through the ranks to a Captaincy aboard the fleet’s flagship by being a choir boy. I fought hard to get this position, and I know just how men like this Kapustin and Volkov think. I was a conniving, back stabbing, son-of-a bitch back then. I’ve seen things differently now after what we’ve been through, but if it comes down to Volkov or me, I’ll know what to do about it, rest assured.”

“This sort of infighting in the ranks has always been distasteful, Karpov, but I understand what you are saying. Yes, I suppose we can back Volkov down, but Kapustin is going to write the final report. Admiral Abramov has been somewhat sympathetic, and he seems to think Volkov is my main worry at the moment. I did not correct him, but I will tell you both now that it’s Kapustin. Volkov is the front man. He will do the pushing and prodding and digging, but Kapustin writes the report. He makes the recommendations. They will discover that we’re missing one of our nuclear eggs, and we’ll have to answer for it.”

“I have a possible solution, sir. I can tell you what I would do, or rather what the man I once was would do. In truth, I will also have to admit I still am that man. That same old black shark still circles in my soul, and if I let it take charge it would have come up with the simplest possible solution—blame it on a matoc. Say a man selected the wrong warhead. Isn’t that what happened on Orel?”

“We don’t really know,” said Volsky. “I understand what you are saying, Karpov, but it’s rather low.”

“Of course it is. I was a man of few scruples.”

“But you and I know this won’t be so easy. No Able Seaman is going to have access to one of the special warheads. It would have to come from Martinov, and be mounted under his direct supervision. The number ten silo is also sealed and has multiple fail safe guards on it. How do you explain that away? Then we get to the matter of a command level key being required to arm and fire the missile, and we both know what happened there. No. This will not be easily foisted off as incompetence. No matoc could make that series of errors. It won’t do, nor would I blame any innocent man on this ship in the matter, living or dead.”

“Then I will tell you next what this new Karpov would do—he would simply stand up to Kapustin and Volkov and take full responsibility for the whole incident.”

“Very noble of you,” said Volsky. “Yes, you could tell them you ordered Martinov to mount the warheads, and then you could tell them that it was your mistake as Bridge Tactical Officer, eh? But what about the key around your neck, and this one here around mine? Are you just going to tell them you decided you wanted to test a nuclear warhead while I was sleeping? Why? It is never done. It is completely unheard of, and you will lose your command, your rank, and may even be dismissed from the service.”

“I’ve already lost my command and rank once over the matter,” said Karpov. “The second time should be easier.”

“But don’t you understand?” Volsky held out an open palm as he explained. “Your action in defense of the ship, in a real combat scenario, is one thing. But remember, they must never know this ship ever fired a single round in anger. What would we have been firing at, eh? Try to stack that cup on the top of the plates and the whole thing comes tumbling down. The notion that we simply wanted to test a warhead won’t fly either. What do I tell Kapustin then—that we were firing at the American navy in 1941?”

“Of course not, Admiral, but I think this is our only solution. I’ll take the blame. It’s mine and it is only right that I should pay for it. I gave the order to Martinov, told him to reset the Coded Switch Set Controller, and I fired the MOS-III. Tell them I was convinced a real test fire was necessary, that I had asked for permission to do so and it was denied, in fact expressly forbidden, and then I’ll tell them I took it upon myself to countermand those orders while you were indisposed. That’s what happened. It’s our only way out of this mess.”

Now Karpov’s mind was truly working from within his old rotten center, where scheming and subterfuge were the order of the day. He knew men like Kapustin and Volkov, and he knew they were going to dig, and dig until they found something, and he explained it that way to the Admiral now, in the cold logic of the world he had fought his way through successfully all these many years.

“We have to give them something, sir. Give a dog his bone. Otherwise they will dig until they find one. Right now they are very suspicious. They are looking for possible sabotage. They can smell that something is wrong here, and these are a pair of bloodhounds. They want blood, Admiral. If we make it seem that our cover-up has been designed to hide what I did, then it just may divert them. I can tell you right now that if Volkov gets wind of it, he’ll rub his palms together and hump my ass for all he’s worth. Don’t you see? If we give them something, improbable as it may seem, it could be the only thing that stops them from discovering the real impossible truth.”

Volsky stared down at his Chinese food and then rubbed his weary brow, thinking. He looked at Karpov. “I see the logic of what you are suggesting, but you know what it means for your career. It’s going to raise a stink, one way or another, but I suppose it may be our only way out of this.”

Fedorov had been listening, with some anguish, to the whole conversation, and now he spoke up. “I hate to say it, Admiral, but Captain Karpov’s head may not even be enough to satisfy these men if they discover what I think they may in the next eight hours.”

“Discover what, Fedorov?”

“The records of the thirty-six men on the list of casualties they got from Doctor Zolkin were not destroyed by the accident as we claim, nor were they misplaced by the Naval Personnel Division. I think they’re going to discover that those men never existed.”

Volsky gave him an incredulous look. “Never existed?”

“Don’t you understand? Those men boarded the ship in Severomorsk and came from the homeland we left all those weeks ago, but this is a different world now. We changed things. In this world those men might not have ever been born, so I don’t think you’ll be writing those letters after all, Admiral.”

“We did this?”

“I believe so, sir. We changed the history of WWII. Remember, I had a good many books on that war. I’ve studied it all my life. I purged any volume in the ship’s library that related the history as we knew it, but forgive me, I kept certain books so I could see if anything had changed. As it turns out, three books I have were never even published in this world. That set me on a real track to find out what had changed. Remember that book I first came to you with, Admiral, The Chronology Of The Naval War At Sea?”

“Ah yes, that is what first led us down this crazy path.”

“Well I kept that book, and I went into town and bought the latest version as soon as we made port. I’ve been comparing its narrative to the volume I owned, checking things out. Yes, we definitely changed things. Japan engaged the Americans in the Solomons and lost three carriers. Our action also badly depleted their 5th Carrier Division. The Imperial Japanese Navy found itself with virtually no effective naval air arm after our intervention. It restored the balance of power to what it might have been in the history we knew, and then the war seemed to proceed on track—but there was no Hiroshima or Nagasaki. Japan surrendered in April of 1945.”

“But how does that affect the men who died on this ship?”

“I can’t say as I really know. We definitely changed things, so it may be that when the song replayed, a few notes were out of place. In many ways I discovered that the history had healed and repaired itself. There was no raid at Dieppe—that’s another thing we changed. But the D-Day invasion still took place as scheduled in Normandy. That said, there were subtle differences, particularly in little things.”

“They say the devil is in the details,” Karpov put in.

“Exactly, Captain. So it could be that something may have happened to the ancestors of the men on that list, and in some macabre way, Time found a way to get rid of them.”

“This is truly bizarre,” said Volsky.

“No argument there,” said Fedorov. “This whole incident is still completely confounding. But think of it sir. If something did happened differently, and say the grandfathers of men like Denikin, Krasnov and Rykov were killed in the war, or perhaps their fathers married someone else…Why, then they would never have existed. For us to bring them home to this world alive would create an enormous paradox. How could they be here? In effect, Time had no place for them. The history was a vast game of musical chairs, and when Karpov stayed his hand and stopped us from killing the Key West, everything changed. The music stopped, and there were no chairs here for those men. This world looks the same, it smells the same—why, here we are in ZolotyDrakon, right? But it isn’t the same world we left behind when we cleared the breakwater beacons at Severomorsk last July. As I said, I have books in my possession now that were never published.”

“How is it they remain intact?” asked Karpov.

“I’m not sure, but perhaps the fact that they were with us on the ship protected them. But not people—they change things—they are the living, breathing history as it happens. Time had to find a way to settle her accounts, and now I think we will find those men never existed. The only place any record of their lives now exists is right here on this ship.” Fedorov pointed to his head. “Right in our heads. We knew them, sailed and fought with them, but like those books I found missing, in this world they were never published…”

“My God,” said Karpov. “Forget the nuclear warheads, that’s just a matter of chest thumping and protocol. How in the world are we going to explain this to Kapustin?”





Part V



Rising Sun



“He who chooses the beginning of the road

chooses also the place that it leads to.”



—Henry Emerson Fosdick





Chapter13



The PLAN (People’s Liberation Army & Navy) was no longer a local self defense force, and its navy was not confined to littoral coastal waters as in the past. When the 21st century got underway in earnest the Chinese Navy began to deploy more blue water capable forces in virtually every major ship category. The surface fleet, known as the shuimianjianting budui, had grown enormously, with new classes in guided missile destroyers and submarines, new carrier and helicopter carrier designs, and equally important, a capability for underway replenishment that allowed the navy to project power beyond the coastal waters of China for the first time since the 15th Century.

The missions assigned to the navy grew with it. It was now tasked with responsibilities to find and engage enemy surface action groups, participate in anti-submarine warfare, transport and guarantee the landing of troops on enemy shores, spoil the enemy's objective of attacking China’s coastal cities and ports, and carry out reconnaissance on the seas with regular patrols. Active ASW warfare and anti-mine sweeping were a part of this task.

That said, the Chinese were still new at the game, and on September 15th, 2021, a small task force of was at sea off Diaoyutai or Senkaku Island to the Japanese, showing the flag over the oil rich sea floor beneath the deserted rocks. It was a continuation of the long war of words between Japan and China over the territory, and this time it was also something more. The islands were located about 125 miles northeast of Taipei, Taiwan, and in a perfect position to place a screening force for operations that might be aimed at that larger objective. If the Japanese came, they would come out of Okinawa and Japan proper to the northeast, and so Diaoyutai was right astride the sea lanes they would use.

The squadron assigned to the mission was therefore given ample resources. It was centered on one of their new Type 052C Destroyers, dubbed the Lanzhou, the lead ship in its class. With a stealthy design, this 7000 ton ship was often referred to as the China’s Aegis, with its fixed panel AESA phased array radar, and “it” was a very capable ship. The Chinese considered their ships material objects, and did not personify them with either masculine or feminine traits.

The ship mounted 48 vertically launched HQ-9 surface to air missiles on its forward a deck in eight cold launch cells of six missiles each. They could range out to 200 kilometers at Mach 4, providing a strong defensive anti-air umbrella over the squadron. It was in many ways similar to the Russian S-300s aboard Kirov, and almost as capable. The Lanzhou also carried eight C-805/7 anti ship missiles in two 4-cell launchers. It was known as the YJ-82 Eagle Strike system, a lethal sea skimmer on its terminal approach that was touted to have a 98% hit probability. Six torpedo tubes and a new 130mm single barreled deck gun that was a knock off of the old Russian 130mm gun finished off the destroyer’s main weapons suite, but she also had a pair of 30mm close in defense guns and one Harbin Z-9C helicopter for additional ASW defense.

Cruising to either side of the Lanzhou were two type 054A frigates at a little over 4000 tons. The Shouyang and Weifang, both built in 2012. They carried a multi-purpose 32 cell VLS system that could use either SAMs or ASW rockets, and also mounted two 4-cell C-803 anti-ship missiles and six 324 mm torpedoes. Each ship also brought a Z-9C helicopter to the fight.

The fourth member of the task force was not on the surface. The Li Zhu was a 7000 ton submarine in the 095 class with a modified hull that provided greater acoustic stealth and flank linear array sonar. It was named for a legendary pearl that grew under the chin of a powerful black dragon, a jewel from the sea. In spite of the improvements made to the boat’s design it was still noisy compared to the more stealthy Russian and American submarine designs. Even the old Russian Akula and Oscar class subs were quieter, though this boat was one of the stealthiest China now possessed. Undersea noise was never a friend of any submarine, and it would betray the Li Zhu that night. Revealing her position to the capable electronic ears of the Japanese task force approaching from the northeast.

The sub was out in front of the Chinese flotilla, cruising some twenty miles in the vanguard. The boat’s captain, Kai Fan, had been slowly stalking the Japanese flotilla, moving quietly into a position where he could block their approach to the islands. His sonar operators had identified what they believe to be two Abukuma class destroyer escorts, and they were correct. These were the Oyoko and Sendai out of Sasebo, about 2500 tons each, older ships built between 1988 and 1991, but still capable for the roles they were designed to play. They were not as stealthy as the newer Chinese surface ships following the Dragon Pearl into battle that night, but they were well armed with 8 harpoons, octuple ASROC launchers in the older deck mounted “Matchbox” design, six torpedoes, and a 76mm deck gun.

Behind them came the more formidable presence of the guided missile destroyer Kirishima, a 9500 ton vessel every bit as capable as an American Aegis Class cruiser. It was already well aware of the presence of the Dragon Pearl beneath the sea, and had a helicopter up off its aft fantail deck to refine the enemy boat’s location. The ship’s captain, Kenji Namura had taken the precautionary step of activating his RUM-139C VLS ASROC system, which could fire a lightweight sub-killing homing torpedo out to 25,000 meters, his modern day ‘Long Lance,’ but he would not yet announce his displeasure by going to active sonar.

For years the two sides had quarreled over the islands, with incidents where one side or another would paint a target with active fire control radar systems, or overfly a ship with a flight of fast strike jets. Namura had more support available, including Naval Marines at nearby bases. He would soon need them, for tonight China would send men from the their surface action group, and they would land by helicopter on the Island of Peace to plant the flag of the People’s Republic there. A meaningless gesture of defiance, it would set the stage for far a more serious confrontation between China and Japan that was even now beginning to spin slowly out of control.

What submarine Captain Kai Fan did not know, or hear that night, was the overhead deployment of Kirishima’s helicopter. It already had buoys in the water and was feeding good location data back to the Japanese flotilla as she slowly closed the range with her two smaller destroyer escorts. Kai Fan was nervously watching the range close to under 22,000 meters when his sonar man heard what he believed was the splash of a deck fired torpedo entering the water. It was actually another guided motorized sonobuoy, but the inexperienced sonar man interpreted the sound of its search pattern wrongly, and it had grave consequences. In modern war at sea, where computers aim and guide weapons to unseen targets, seconds become an eternity. He announced torpedo in the water, which prompted an immediate reaction from Captain Kai Fan. He already had his forward tubes primed and ready, and he fired a spread of four torpedoes.

When the sonar men shouted out their torpedo warnings on the three Japanese ships they were in deadly earnest. Kenji Namura was aghast when he realized his flotilla would very likely be hit by this flagrant attack, and he immediately gave the order to fire back. His MCH-Merlin 101 helo quickly had a Stingray torpedo in the water from above, and Kirishima added two VLS ASROCS to the soup as the ships and subs now both deployed their countermeasures and jamming suites to try and defend against the incoming ordinance.

Two of the Chinese torpedoes were fooled, the others found Oyoko and split her port side hull open in a violent explosion that would end that ship’s brief career forever. She would give her name to the sea that night, and sink within the hour.

As for the Li Zhu, the boat would become a pearl of great price that would soon fall to the bottom of an angry sea. The sonar man would pay his share, the boat’s Captain Kai Fan would also sign the bill, but the world itself was set to pay the greatest price of all when the Dragon Pearl was hit and sunk on that September night off the Island of Peace.

* * *



Light helicopter escort carrier Akagi, wasted little time getting out to sea, and she would be in good company. The ship was originally classed as a helicopter destroyer, Class 22DDG to replace an older 1970s legacy destroyer by the same name that had been built around an aircraft hanger capable of housing three helicopters. The new Akagi was something much more, however, now reclassified as a light escort carrier after it had been modified to carry and operate the JF-35B STOVL Lightning fighters, which was tech speak for a short takeoff and vertical landing capable plane. The aircraft had been replacing the aging AV-8B Harrier jump Jets over the last decade, as well as slowly filling out air wings that had once been largely composed of F-18 SuperHornets, though these squadrons were few and far between. By 2021 the bugs had been worked out and it was a reliable and deadly fifth generation strike fighter asset. It had a stealthy, fuselage-mounted 25 mm gun pod and a combat radius of more than 450 nautical miles.

Akagi was one of four such ships in the Japanese Navy now, based in Sasebo with her sister ship Kaga. They were the largest surface combatants in the present Japanese Navy at a length of 248 meters and 27,000 tons fully loaded. That load today was partly composed of the seven JF-35Bs, nine SG-60J Seahawk helicopters and two Merlin CH-101s. There was room for more, with a maximum capacity of nine aircraft on deck and fourteen in the hangers, but Akagi had received an abrupt invitation to an event in the East China Sea, and it was a come as you are party. Depending on conditions encountered, the JDF could airlift additional assets out to her at sea—if she survived.

With the light escort destroyer Oyoko already at the bottom of the sea, that question weighed heavily on the mind of Captain Shoji Yoshida. At only 2500 tons, Oyoko was really a frigate class vessel, and went down with two torpedo hits. While Akagi might be more durable in combat with her 27,000 tons, size was no guarantee of safety, a lesson the Japanese knew all too well as they remembered the demise of their proud old fleet carriers in the Second World War. His ancestor ship was nearly twice the displacement of the modern day Akagi.

So it had finally happened, he thought as he stared over the short forward flight deck, watching the first two F-35s being spotted. The Chinese thought they were finally going to settle the matter. They paid a high price for Oyoko. Kenji Namura aboard Kirishima had collected a heavy toll in reprisal when he took down the Type 095 submarine Li Zhu that had launched the bold attack. Now he wondered just how far the Chinese were prepared to go with this.

They were already holding another small Japanese Coast Guard cutter hostage in the deadly game, and they had the impudence to actually land a small naval marine contingent on the main Senkaku island of Uotsuri Jima, the old ‘Island of Peace,’ to plant their flag. Seven years ago it had been simple activist protestors who had dared to land on the islands, but this was something altogether different. This was the first real flexing of the vast Chinese military, and it gave Yoshida the shivers to think Japan was now boldly sailing off to confront their great hostile neighbor to the west.

Huge demonstrations outside the Japanese embassy in Beijing had been raging for months, and now the gold chrysanthemum emblem there was besmirched with eggs splattered on the walls, and the solitary flag of the rising sun waved bravely in a sea of anger in that distant city. Japanese stores and restaurants had been broken into and vandalized, then draped with bright red Chinese flags. The discord had spread to many other cities, spilling over from Shenzhen to the normally more civil Hong Kong where there had been flag burnings. The rising demonstrations had prompted the Chinese government to offer the protestors a bone by committing the further insult of placing the Japanese ambassador in Beijing under house arrest, an unprecedented breach of international protocol—but then again, war was nothing more than an ever escalating failure of manners and civility, neh?

He shook his head, disheartened. The dispute over these worthless islands had deeper roots in the bad blood between China and Japan dating back to WWII, and now the oil and gas rights there would also play a part. It was starting again—blood for islands in the endless sea, blood for oil and gas. How many of his men would have to pay that price with their lives today, all so that Toyota and Honda could keep their wheels turning? He knew Japan had been foolish to try and purchase the islands outright instead of negotiating some amicable agreement with China. It was not a thought he wished to carry into battle at this moment, however, and so he pushed it aside, deep into an inner compartment of his mind, and focused on the task at hand.

He had seven JF-35s, enough to do what he had been ordered. They could easily cover the swift dash of his Seahawks, each capable of carrying a squad of his own elite naval marines to the argument. Then we will see what to do about that coast guard cutter. First he would get up some air cover. We’re playing one of our aces, he knew, and there were only four in the entire fleet just like a good deck of cards. His sister ship Kaga was still in Sasebo, and the first two ships in the class were both assigned to Yokohama to the north. This ship is one of our very best, he thought, and I must not let my nation and my people down.

It had already started in the darkness of the East China Sea, and now it would continue, with this proud man in his proud ship, with a proud heritage at stake—and much, much more. Pride, it is said, goeth before the fall, and the abyss that was now yawning open in the Pacific was impenetrably deep. Captain Yoshida was sailing swiftly towards its edge.

He would to rendezvous with the Kirishima, and he would bring the new destroyer Ashigara along, one notch up on the Kongo Class ships with the new Type-90 SSM and a suite of good SAMs to give him some solid air defense beyond his seven fighters. At 10,000 tons, she was the largest surface combatant in the navy, only a seventh the displacement of the last vessel class to hold that distinction, Yamato. That said, Ashigara would have ripped the superstructure of Yamato apart, piece by piece, just as Kirov had, and the great menacing battleship of old would have never come in range to once fire her guns in anger.

Following third in line was the older DDH Hyuga, a true helicopter carrier commissioned in 2009 and drawing near the end of her useful life now that the four Class 22 ships had been built to take over their role. Yet Captain Yoshida was glad the ship was still active and in his wake, for she carried another eleven Seahawks, with a second platoon of Naval Marines, should they be necessary.

One more ship completed Yoshida’s flotilla that day, SS Soryu, the quiet Blue Dragon already well out in front of his task group, riding the ocean currents at a 300 foot depth. It had slipped out of its moorings at Myakojima sub base on a small island outpost 225 kilometers southeast of the Senkaku Islands group. The boat carried Type-89 torpedoes and the deadly UGM-84 Harpoons which could also be fired from her six 21 inch torpedo tubes.

Information was now being received an analyzed from a lone P-3C early warning plane near the disputed islands. The Chinese still had warships there holding the cutter PS-206 Howo hostage, and more ships were reported approaching the islands. What would this come to today, he wondered? Yoshido had been ordered to put his Marines on those Islands, remove the Chinese flag and the troops that brought it there, and oppose any and all Chinese naval units attempting to interfere with this operation. If he needed more force than he now commanded, Kadena and Naha airfields were a scant 450 kilometers to the northeast, just a few minutes cruising time for an F-15 Eagle or an F-22 Raptor. The nearest Chinese Air assets would be at Shuimen, Longtian or Fuzhou airfields, an equal distance to the west—but they were not Eagles or Raptors. Yoshida liked his cards this morning.

The roar of the first JF-35 split the air as it took off, the second plane maneuvering smartly to the ready line and waved off right on its heels. His top cover would be up at angels thirty in minutes. He would then spot and launch a third plane for any contingency that might present itself, his first shotai of three planes aloft and ready for battle. A strange thought came to Yoshida as he watched the operation. This could be the very first launch of carrier based aircraft in the third world war! A moment of bumbling misrecognition had prompted the Dragon Pearl to fire those torpedoes at Oyoko, and now it had begun. As the three planes climbed into the bright sky overhead Yoshida imagined how Admiral Nagumo must have felt as he watch the first three Zeros climb into the pre-dawn sky off the northern Philippine Islands at the outset of World War Two.

It was always so clean and simple in the beginning, he thought. All the uniforms were fresh and white, the well starched collars laden with pips of gold and silver, and no stain of blood or the darkened burn of flash and powder. It started with flags and honor, and national pride, and music, and it always ended in the same old thing—death and destruction.

It would not be long before he would see the true face of war with his very own eyes, and it would not be pretty.