Tasmanian SFG: Welcome to Hell

by C. R. Daems

  Tasmanian SFG:

  Welcome to Hell

  By

  C. R. Daems

  Tasmanian SFG: Welcome to Hell

  Copyright © 2019 by C. R. Daems

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from C. R. Daems.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: ISBN-13: 978-0-9983251-6-3

  ISBN-10: 0-9983251-6-3

  Check out all my novels at:

  crdaems.com & talonnovels.com

  PROLOGUE

  Planet: Surbaya: Rebirth

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Planet: Delphi: Bait and Switch

  CHAPTER TWO

  Planet: Delphi: A Hidden Agenda

  CHAPTER THREE

  Planet: Delphi: A Contract Is a Contract

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Tasmanian Qualification School

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: A So-Called Rest Week

  CHAPTER SIX

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Orders Are Orders

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Welcome to Hell

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Between a Hard Place and a Rock

  CHAPTER NINE

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Unexpected Help

  CHAPTER TEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: The Purge

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Tasmanian Business

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: A Reality Check

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: Indoctrination

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: Assignments

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: First Assignment

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Planet: Harari: Snipers

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Planet: Harari: A Big Surprise

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Planet: Harari: Hihari Sniper Teams

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Planet: Harari: Choke Point

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: Post Assignment Surprise

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: Gong Luan

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Endeavor: Assignment Selection

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Planet Libian: Assignment

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Planet Libian: The Zinwe Uprising

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Planet Libian: What Next?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Planet Libian: Death Trap

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Planet Libian: The Facts of Life

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Planet Libian: Time to Leave the Party

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Planet Libian: A Fatal Mistake

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Planet Libian: Mission Accomplished

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Planet Surbaya: Homecoming

  PROLOGUE

  Planet: Surbaya: Rebirth

  I was three when I found out I was ugly and deformed.

  I was four when I found out I was an outcast.

  I was five when I found out the reason—I was sub-human.

  There were other children like me but only a few. Most of the other children were beautiful and normal. Us ugly, deformed, sub-humans were ridiculed, abused, and shunned. The others similar to me banded together for protection and comfort, but for some reason, I wasn’t included. I guessed they thought me uglier, more deformed, or less human. Whatever the reason, that made me alone and vulnerable.

  I fought back—and lost.

  Over the years I fought back harder, learning to ignore the pain—and lost.

  As I grew older and stronger, the attacks grew fewer but more vicious because my attackers paid a price—but I still lost.

  Eventually, they would have killed me and one night nearly succeeded. Five boys and two girls dragged me out of the orphanage compound and beat me unconscious using sticks and rocks and left me lying bleeding and broken in the street. The message was clear—don’t come back. I was seven.

  When I woke, I was content to lie there and die. It hurt too much to move, and besides I had nowhere to go. I had heard talk of a God and paradise when you died but had been told that was only for humans, not animals like me. I lay waiting, wondering where animals like me went. It didn’t matter, because I didn’t have a choice. My eyes jerked open at the sound of a man’s soft voice, or was it the God the men and women at the orphanage had spoken of? If he was, he wasn’t very impressive in his plain brown shirt which hung over his narrow hips, baggy pants tied at the ankles, and worn black slipper-like shoes. He looked frail, with wispy white hair and a long beard. He looked human.

  “You look ready to give up,” he said as he squatted next to me and his warm eyes engulfed me.

  “I tried. Really I did,” I sobbed. “Several will have cuts and bruises to remember me. I didn’t give up—I lost again. There were too many.”

  “Would you like to get revenge?” he asked. I gave a choked laugh which caused my body to spasm with pain, and I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming.

  “No,” I said when the stabbing pain had subsided to a throbbing ache, and I could unclench my teeth.

  “Why not?” he asked. He tilted his head slightly to the side as if to hear my answer better.

  “It wouldn’t change anything. I’ll still be ugly and deformed…and hated.”

  * * *

  I woke on a straw mat inside a small room no more than three by four paces. The man sat cross-legged next to the bed. When he saw I was awake, he lifted my head and spooned the contents of a wooden bowl with a steaming hot liquid to my lips. The liquid was thick and contained strange spices I found tasty. With my head elevated, I saw my arms and legs had been wrapped with cloth and the exposed skin looked an ugly purple and dirty yellow. It felt like swallowing lava to breathe and like being dragged over hot coals to move.

  “Rest, child, I have treated the worst of the damage. You’re young and will heal quickly.” He spoke softly as he lowered my head onto the pillow and covered me with a soft blanket. Each time I woke, he was there with something to drink. The next morning, he smiled when I opened my eyes. “You must get up or your body will destroy itself. Our bodies perform best when in motion. He had to help me out of bed as I was in too much pain to concentrate, and my limbs refused to respond to my efforts to move. After I managed to take several steps, he helped me back into bed. He returned every several hours and over the next two days I managed to get out of bed and to feed myself.

  “Child, if you wish you may stay here with me,” he said after I had recovered sufficiently to leave. I nodded several times, too relieved to speak. I knew I couldn’t return to the orphanage and didn’t have any place else to go. “My name is Luan. People refer to me as Master Luan as I teach the art of self-defense. What would you like to be called?” he asked but continued before I could answer. “Since you are starting a new life, you can choose any name you like.” Luan smiled as he watched me.

  “You f
ound me, Master Luan. You pick a name,” I said, having no idea what I wanted to be called. He looked away for a minute, then nodded.

  “Jolie. It means life in the nation your father served. I think it’s appropriate since you are starting a new life.”

  The building had a large open area where Luan taught classes during the day and in the evening and several smaller attached rooms where he lived. I was given the room where I had been recovering. In addition to a straw sleeping mat there was a wooden box where I stored the two sets of shirts and pants he had made for me, and a candle for light—it was a palace and I felt like a princess.

  Over the months that followed I slowly took responsibility for many of the day-to-day chores: I cleaned the main room after classes, ran errands, fetched and carried, and did whatever needed doing. I watched the self-defense courses Master Luan taught and wished I could attend but was content to have a home and willing to do whatever Master Luan wanted me to do.

  * * *

  “Come with me, Jolie,” he said and I followed him into the teaching area. I had been with Luan for one year. “I am going to begin your training—”

  “Self-defense, Master?” I interrupted, my voice rising with excitement.

  “No, Jolie. I could teach you self-defense but you are too small to use it effectively. It would give you a false sense of confidence and get you hurt, maybe killed. But if you are patient and work very hard, you will be my apprentice, and I’ll pass on my knowledge to you. You will be my legacy.”

  I stood stunned, unable to speak for several minutes. “Thank you, Master Luan. I will work very hard.”

  * * *

  The first year he taught me what he called Balance. He would push, pull, and grab me in an attempt to make me fall or stumble. When I did, he would explain what I did wrong or what I should have done. The second year he would take me to one of his classes and let individual students try to push or grab me in an attempt to make me fall. The third year, he would let two or more try.

  The fourth year he began teaching me basic self-defense: grabs, holds, and throws. Although I attended his regular classes now and then, my lessons were private and lasted several hours every day. During the seventh year, I regularly attended his advanced classes as they involved supervised fighting. It was good experience even though Luan insisted I refrain from using certain techniques he had taught me and from embarrassing the students. The classes were intended to improve my reflexes, not to show off.

  The eighth and ninth years he taught me to kill with my hands, knives, and guns.

  And in my tenth year he began the most difficult lesson—to vanquish fear. It took three years.

  At the end of my thirteenth year, he sat me down. “Jolie, my daughter, I have entered you officially into the Harjar Registry as my daughter, Jolie Luan, and give to you the title Master of my art, although it has no name as the techniques come from many styles.”

  “I’m honored to share your name and to call you father. You saved me from the fires of death to be reborn like the phoenix. With your permission, I will call the style Gong Luan.”

  “It’s time you left for the home of your birth father. There you will not be considered ugly or deformed or an outcast as you bear a strong resemblance to his race. The planet is called Delphi and is the capital of the inhabitable worlds—United Systems of Perileos.”

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Planet: Delphi: Bait and Switch

  It had taken me two months on foot to make my way to Madaza, the capital of Surbaya, an additional two months to secure a position as crew on the merchant ship Lady Luck, and three more months to arrive at my final destination—Delphi. The delay had given me time to consider what I would do to earn a living. Although Master Luan had given me a good general education, I had no certificate from a formal school so it wouldn’t be recognized. Besides, the only job I felt qualified for was as an instructor of self-defense. Thinking I was uniquely qualified, I decided to join the United Systems of Perileos (USP) military, hoping the experience would expand my education while I contemplated what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

  “Young lady, are you planning on enlisting or just waiting for someone? I think you’ve read every pamphlet in the office,” asked a short muscular man from behind his desk. His graying hair and lined face made him look in his fifties, although he was otherwise in good physical condition. He looked and sounded amused.

  “I’ve decided on the army and was debating which unit to join,” I said, having finally reached a decision.

  “That’s not exactly the way it works.” His voice had become serious although it still had a touch of its previous amusement. “You enlist in the army and they decide where you go.”

  “But your pamphlet said you could sign up for a specific career. Is that a lie?” I asked and cocked my head awaiting a response.

  “Well, no. You can request a specific school but if it’s full you may have to pick another,” he replied, looking like he had been caught in a deception.

  “Don’t I have to sign a contract and doesn’t the contract state what we have agreed to?” I asked, a bit confused.

  “Yes, but the wording states it’s not guaranteed.”

  “Bait and switch?” I asked. Luan had spent considerable time with me discussing business, contracts, and fraud.

  “No, but sometimes it’s not possible to give the applicant what he or she wants.” He held up a hand. “The person may not have the aptitude or ability to be successful, or the school or specialty may be full. In those cases, an alternative path has to be found.”

  “What if I want to apply for the Tasmanian Special Forces Group?” I asked. The man stared open-mouthed at me, then laughed, then sobered when he saw I wasn’t laughing.

  “That unit has no women, only men,” he said.

  “The pamphlet says it’s a voluntary unit open to all army personnel. Which part of voluntary and all army personnel isn’t true?” I asked, becoming both frustrated and confused. I thought he had lost the argument since he couldn’t claim the USP pamphlets weren't true.

  He patiently spent the next two hours discussing the enlistment contract and made my requested changes. It proved to be an interesting exercise for both of us: the USP would agree to let Jolie Luan enter the Tasmanian school and allow her to join if she passed the course. If not, Miss Luan agreed to serve in another unit. All that remained was determining if the higher-ups would agree to the modified contract.

  “Miss Luan, I’m Senior Sergeant MacKay. You’re a fascinating individual and it has been…interesting. I’m hoping the brass approve the changes, but I’m worried you’ll get what you want but won’t like what you get. The Tasmanian school qualifies less than ten out of every one hundred applicants. And all the applicants are young, physically fit men. Consequently, the Tasmanians are a very selective all-male group.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Planet: Delphi: A Hidden Agenda

  Colonel Ross knocked lightly on Brigadier General Barclay’s door, waited for a reply, and entered when hearing, “Come.”

  “What is it, Ross?” Barclay asked, looking up from the document he was reading.

  “Recruitment sent this to me, sir,” he said, handing the document to him. “We have some damn woman from the backwater planet of Surbaya who doesn’t trust us. The recruiter, a Sergeant MacKay, said she felt our recruitment pamphlets weren’t consistent with our standard army contract. So she had him rewrite parts of it.”

  “You have to admit, Ross,” Berkeley said and his lip twitched, “our contracts do give us a lot of leeway over the individual once he or she enlists. It isn’t an intentional bait-and-switch but a necessary contingency. She’s not too stupid if she actually read the contract.” He laughed and picked up the edited contract and began reading. He nodded several times, chuckled a couple of times, and then roared with laughter. “She wants to try out for the Tasmanians.” Then he quickly shuffled through the documents until he found the appl
ication form. “She may not be stupid but she sure as hell is crazy. She’s only one hundred seventy-three centimeters and weighs fifty-two kilograms. It would be like a dog fight between a Chihuahua and a Rottweiler.” He paused, frowning for a minute in thought. “Is Colonel Zimmerman still the commander of the Tasmanian qualification school?”

  Ross nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Get him on the Comm unit.” Barclay sat back and a smile split his lips as he waited.

  A minute later, Ross spoke. “Colonel Zimmerman, please hold for General Barclay.” He handed the Comm device to Barclay.

  “Oliver, this is Barclay at Recruitment headquarters. I have a young woman recruit who actually read our enlistment contract and noted that the document permitted us to ignore her preferences. So she had the recruiting sergeant rewrite several parts.” He paused while Zimmerman said something. “No, she’s right but of course we can’t have everyone deciding to rewrite our contracts. Consequently, we’ll have to make an example of her. One that our recruitment sergeants can use to discourage anyone else from trying it. By the way, she listed her choice as the Tasmanian school.” He paused again. “No, I’m going to approve the contract. You will enter her as a candidate. No woman has ever passed the school so it shouldn’t be a problem. Her height and weight make her passing an impossibility. Anyway, when she gets disqualified, let me know.” He paused again. “Thanks, Oliver.” Barclay cut the connect. “Ross, make me a list of shitty army assignment for me to consider for Miss…Luan. It’s actually a shame as she is obviously a bright woman but letting her appear to dictate to the military isn’t an option.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Planet: Delphi: A Contract Is a Contract

  Sergeant MacKay called me two days later and asked me to report to his office.

  “They approved the contract, Jolie,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Be careful, I suspect they are confident you are going to fail the Tasmanian qualifying school which will allow them to put you were they want. And they will ensure you’re made the laughingstock of the army.”