New Persia: The Tempest

The Underworld

A bronze plaque on the wall proclaimed this was the submarine Yunes, commissioned the year before, and built by the Bandar shipyard.

The three officers wore shipboard coveralls with their ranks emblazoned on their collars. They looked the same as the other sailors otherwise. Farad looked out of place in the borrowed khakis.

"Commander Azeri," the oldest man introduced himself. He was the equivalent rank as Farad, but the naval rank had a different title.

"Wing Leader Hashemi," Farad said.

"You had a tough day, Wing Leader," Azeri said.

"It was worse for others," Farad said.

"I suppose," Azeri said. "Did your attack succeed?"

"I was the fighter leader," Farad said. "The torpedo bombers were successful. They hit all the Azanian aircraft carriers. I believe they are all sunk or disabled."

"Did you see them?" Azeri asked.

"Yes," Farad replied.

"It makes it easier," Azeri said. "We let them go last night."

Farad raised an eyebrow.

"Orders," Azeri said. "We are to observe and report. We had the carriers in our sights," Azeri said ruefully. "We let them go and radioed their course and speed."

"We found them," Farad said. "The Shahins attacked and hit them all." Farad described the torpedo bomber attack.

"Nice to hear," said Azeri. "something is going right."

"The war goes poorly," Farad agreed. "I do not know what you have heard, but the Azanians are closing on Persepolis."

"It cannot be," Azeri said. "How did they get so far, so fast?"

"Only God knows," Farad said. "And there is something else."

Farad told Azeri about the Azanian transports he had seen, full of troops.

"Where did you see them?" Azeri said. "Wait, come with me."

Azeri opened a small sliding door and walked into a tight passage. On one side was the beeps and squawk of radio code. On the other side was a small office. The passage led to another room whose walls were full of switches, dials, and lights. Two periscopes rose from the deck into the overhead.

"Captain in control," one sailor said.

"As you were," said Azeri.

He led Farad between the periscopes to a table covered with charts. "Where did you see those transports?"

Farad looked hard at the charts and closed his eyes. He opened them and asked, "Where are we now?"

Azeri pointed. Farad checked the clock and made some mental calculations.

"Here," Farad said. He pointed at a spot on the chart.

"How fast were they moving?" Azeri asked. He was doubtful Farad would know.

"Not as fast as the carriers," Farad said.

Azeri nodded. "Navigator, plot a course here," he pointed to a spot on the chart. "We'll try to get ahead of them."

The other officer frowned. "We will use a lot of our battery power. Can we snorkel part of the way?"

"I don't see how to avoid it," Azeri said. "They are ahead of us, and they are moving away. We have to play catch up." Both men looked unhappy.