Following the launch of the Soviet aircraft carrier Kuznetsov, the Varyag was now entering its final stage of preparation. Eight months ago, with 80% of construction completed, the Varyag finally left the Black Sea Shipyard. Director Makarov, who had overseen the project for years, watched the historic moment with tears in his eyes—the sight of the mighty carrier departing the factory was a milestone he had dreamed of for decades.
The critical funding from the central government, granted just in time to rescue the Varyag from potential abandonment, had breathed new life into the project. What could have been a stillborn carrier was instead reborn. The motherland had not forsaken Makarov's lifelong dedication, nor the tireless efforts of the Black Sea Shipyard's workforce. Together, they had completed a monumental task.
The Varyag was destined to become a proud monument in the annals of the Soviet Navy—a legendary symbol of strength to the Soviet Union and the world alike.
At the launch ceremony, Defense Minister Yazov personally shook Makarov's black oil-stained hand, his voice thick with emotion. "On behalf of the Party and the country, I thank you for your tremendous effort. You have completed a crucial engineering feat for the Soviet Union."
Makarov nodded with quiet pride. "Thank you, Comrade Minister. It is my duty. Yet my mission is not finished. The Ulyanovsk must also be completed as soon as possible. Ideally, construction will be done by late next year or mid the following year, allowing testing to commence."
He gazed at the majestic vessel beneath the clear blue sky, muttering softly, "One Kuznetsov and one Varyag are still insufficient. Our aircraft carrier replacement program lags behind the West. Three carriers are needed to form a battle group capable of rivaling the world's navies. It will take several years to reach full combat readiness."
Yazov smiled, patting Makarov's shoulder. "Good resolve. If you encounter any difficulties, speak up. The central government will give full support."
Makarov spoke frankly. "Funding and technical support remain my greatest challenges. When will the Ulyanovsk receive its necessary funding? We were on the brink with the Varyag, only receiving critical support at the last moment."
Yazov, about to light a cigarette, stopped and rubbed his head in embarrassment. "Yes, Comrade Makarov. Even if the Navy has to sell one of its Kiev-class carriers, we will provide funds for Ulyanovsk's completion."
Makarov's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean to say the Navy will sell its own carriers to finance Ulyanovsk? Is this rumor true? When did our Navy reach such dire straits?"
"It's not the Navy's decision," Yazov lowered his voice. "General Secretary Yanaev decreed it. He even pledged his own personal funds to ensure the Ulyanovsk is built. He said he'd rather starve than let the Ukrainian Black Sea Shipyard fail to produce an aircraft carrier fleet capable of defending Soviet territory."
Yazov's eyes reddened. He was witnessing the dedication of the first and only General Secretary he had ever known who truly devoted himself to the motherland. Others merely paid lip service to "serving the people." Yanaev lived those words. He often stayed up all night working on livelihood projects, adopted underage children of political opponents, and anonymously donated his salary to orphanages.
Surkov once retorted angrily to the democrats: "The welfare you enjoy, the system you wish to overthrow, all comes from the man you call a tyrant!"
While other leaders harbored selfish ambitions, Yanaev alone faithfully fulfilled his mission—defending the Soviet Union and preserving the dignity of the Red Empire.
Yazov knew this because he had been assigned to write Yanaev's biography, recording nearly six hours of oral narration for a manuscript of almost 500 pages. The General Secretary insisted the biography remain unpublished until after his death and burial under the loess.
"I am no god," Yanaev told him. "Just an ordinary Soviet citizen who happened to lead. I've made small achievements and great mistakes. Let history judge me fairly."
Yazov's thoughts returned to reality as First Commander-in-Chief of the Navy Smiryev appeared. Since Yazov was present at the ceremony, it was only natural for the naval general appointed by Yanaev to join him.
Makarov excused himself tactfully, leaving Yazov and Smiryev alone to discuss military matters. Smiryev, gazing nonchalantly at the carrier, asked quietly, "I heard Moscow intends to sell a Kiev-class carrier. Any progress? The central government seems silent."
"Of course," Yazov replied. "We're actively seeking a buyer. The Kiev-class carrier from the Northern Fleet must be sold. Military expenditure cannot sustain so many ships. Phasing out the old and building a modern carrier fleet is our highest priority."
"Who's the potential buyer? Can you say?" Smiryev's interest peaked. With Ulyanovsk and Varyag nearly complete, the older Kiev-class ships were less relevant. Building a powerful new carrier fleet mattered most.
"India," Yazov answered with a small smile.