Free Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines by Chris Hechtl

But how to use it? A straightup trade? He doubted they'd get much for it. Alice and the engineers loved the damn thing; it was helping them out a great deal, which was why they'd been reluctant for him to turn it over. He frowned thoughtfully.
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    Captain Gumel frowned as he looked over the morning report. His head hurt, and he was in a grumpy mood. His shoulder bothered him from his morning pushups. He'd skipped the regular jog he was supposed to do; he preferred to lift weights. Doc kept warning him that he could blow a blood vessel or tear something, but he didn't care. It wasn't the exercise he preferred, but it kept him trim and it was exercise. Something better than nothing. “You know, something just occurred to me.”
    “Sir?” Ensign Jz Dahl asked, turning to look at him expectantly. The mahogany skinned ensign was a bit of a bootlicker, an eager puppy. The skipper and XO occasionally kicked the kid around, but he knew better than to complain. It was all part of the system, the pecking order he thought.
    “Didn't um … shit …,” he rubbed at his brow. He was notorious with names, and not a morning person. Combine the two, a lack of caffeine and a late night and it was a bad combination.
    “Corsair escorted General Busche's battalion in since the previous landing had been aborted and the troops withdrawn by Admiral Cartwright. But four of our sister ships were with Corsair , didn't they go on to Kathy's World recently?” The captain finally asked, still trying to get his thoughts in order. He wished he had more caffeine. They were down to dregs, and he had turned his nose up to the stuff. He'd wanted to dump the lot but Lefou begged him to keep it for the crew. His lip curled slightly. Let them drink the stuff; it was like stale motor oil.
    He'd gotten some hooch out of Busche once, but the rotgut had turned his stomach something awful. He wondered briefly if it was worth getting coffee. He made a note to get the Bosun or the XO on it. They should have been on it already he thought sourly.
    The ensign frowned thoughtfully and then pulled up his tablet. He checked the log and then nodded. “Aye, sir. Two hunting pairs, Nelson class destroyers escorting freighters, Idiot's Array and Wizard of Winter , sir.”
    “What the hell kind of names are that?” the captain demanded. No wonder he hadn't been able to remember them. Why would anyone … he shook his head. He saw the ensign's helpless shrug. “I wasn't asking you,” he snapped, rubbing his brow again. “Go on.”
    The ensign nodded nervously. He could tell when the skipper was in a foul mood, and today was one of those days. He just wanted to survive his shift. “Yes, sir, they passed through several months ago, while we were in transit here I believe.”
    “And since our orders are to hold here …,” the captain frowned. Their orders stated they had to hold in Protodon to support General Busche and to wait for Admiral Rico and Admiral Cartwright. They were supposed to act as a reserve. Now that was out the window he thought acidly.
    “What forces do we have around us? In case we need backup,” he asked.
    “Sir, um, I'm not cleared to know that,” the ensign stated.
    “Of course not,” the captain frowned, then accessed the computer. His big hands made typing difficult. He didn't bother using his implants; he hated them. And with the headache that was coming on, he didn't want it to get any worse. He frowned thoughtfully.
    Nuevo Madrid had a small naval station there, but it wasn't much. A single obsolete destroyer and a half squadron of frigates. It was exile for that fat sow of a rear admiral he thought. He tapped at the other star system nearby until he got a hit. According to his last dispatch update, two Derfflinger class battle cruisers with supports were headed to … he scowled. “Who the hell names a star system that ?” he demanded. The ensign looked up in confusion. “Sierra Nuevo Hombre Hallelujah. What a