Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

April 23 2184, 17:02 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Orbital Base "Germania" In Lunar HPO

Something big was going on. He had no idea what, but it was going to be huge. Despite his recent promotion and the shiny bronze star that now adorned his dress uniform, Grabowski was still treated like a skid mark on the underpants of the Marine Corps. He'd asked the Sarge if he knew what was going on. He remembered that the response had been something along the lines of, "Piss off." He'd even gone to the Major to try to find out. He had said nearly the same thing as the Sergeant, but at least he'd been more courteous about it.
The dry dock on the Germania was like New Years in New York except louder. It seemed like the entire fleet was being repaired at once. Welding crews were working thirty hours a day. Ships were testing weapons and engine systems and then retesting them. Enough ordinances were loaded onto each ship that made Grabowski wonder if the USNI was getting into an arms race with the sun. Electric carts and loaders whizzed down the halls of the base as if they were training for the Circus Maximus. He'd nearly been run over twice that day and it wasn't even dinner time yet.
The fleet was preparing for something but whenever he asked anyone about it, their lips closed up tighter than an airlock. He had a good idea of where they were going though. It was big and red and required a series of tetanus shots before each visit. They were retaking Mars.
Their squad was getting ready too. True to his word, the Major had requisitioned a new Lieutenant for them. Grabowski liked Officers about as much as Chlamydia but Lieutenant Towers wasn't so bad. He was a real Marine; about as different from Hornberg as up from down. He'd been in the Corps for five years, starting as just another enlisted man before going to OCS. Towers knew the Corps inside out. The man was thorough, smart, and even a little gung-ho.
Where Hornberg had always given orders VIA their headsets, Towers liked to be right in the middle of the action with the rest of them. Most shocking of all was the man had ears. He worked directly with the Sarge and Grabowski, consulting them as much as he commanded them. He might even go as far as to say that he liked the new Lieutenant.
One of the reasons he suspected they were heading back to Mars was the amount of time they spent on the moon. They practiced all kinds of drills, training hard in the low gravity which coincidentally was not much different than Mars' gravity. They mostly did simulated skirmishes pitting their platoon against OPFOR's or one another, using weapons with laser sensors. They practiced search and rescue, search and destroy, and ambushing. There were massive hangars on Luna that they'd train in. It was a nice change of pace from all the time they usually spent doing PT and firing at the weapons range. They still found time for that though.

After the day's work, the squad took a quick shuttle ride back to the Germania. They had yet another crew quarters to call home. It seemed like it changed every two weeks. He wondered where he'd be next week. Hopefully next to Foster. It had been days since he'd even talked to her. She'd been stuck working the graveyard shift, ferrying people between Earth, the Moon, and everywhere in between. He didn't miss her, he didn't need anyone. A part of him wished she were with him right now though.
Grabowski opened the door to his squad's room and laid down on his bed. He was the only one there. He picked up a magazine and tried to read but it didn't interest him. Finally, Chavez came in and saved him from himself. "Hey man, come to the enlisted club, were trying to get a card game going."
"I'm tired of beating you, Chavez."
"Are you tired of my money?"
Grabowski thought for a moment. "Good point." The magazine flopped to the ground and he followed Chavez to the enlisted soldier's club.
The door slid open and he was immediately engulfed in the haze of smoke that filled the room. It was one of the precious few places to smoke on the orbital base. Chavez led him to a table with four other people already seated. Freemen clenched a cigarette in his mouth and cards in his hands. He didn't even look up at Grabowski as he took a seat. He was too intent on beating Mac, Romero, and Harper. "What do you got?" he asked.
"Two pair," Romero said. The other two dropped their cards and cursed.
Romero laughed and reached out to the pot, which was considerable. "Wait," Freemen said. He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew it out slowly as he lay down his hand; three sevens. "Three of a kind."
He didn't laugh until Romero yelled, "Son of a bitch!" Freemen was the card shark of the team. He had the poker face that Grabowski always lacked.
"Bowski!" he called. "You're just in time to lose all your money again."
He wasn't amused. The last time they had played, Grabowski had bet on just about everything except his grandmother, and lost. Freemen's cockiness was quickly getting on his nerves.
"What's the ante to play?" he asked.
"Fifty credits," Freemen said as he shoveled his winnings toward his side of the table.
"That's chicken shit," he replied. "Make it five hundred."
The whole squad looked up at him. "Five hundred credits?" Freemen asked dubiously.
"If you're so eager to win, then let's get right to it. Just for the first hand." Grabowski leaned forward and said, "You think you can win than put your money where your mouth is." It was a challenge and not one he could back down from with the whole squad watching. His reputation as a card player was being put on the line. Freemen shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he thought. Grabowski enjoyed it. The two of them were friends but at the poker table, there were no friends; only opponents.
"Ok," he said finally. "You got yourself a game."
Grabowski looked at the others. "What about the rest of you?"
They looked back at him just as uncertainly as Freemen had. None of them were eager to join such a high stakes game, especially with Grabowski so confident about it. One by one however, they all joined. They had to prove they were man enough. Even Harper and Mac, the two women on the team had to prove they had the balls to play with the big boys. They must have mistaken his new found boldness as confidence. It wasn't, he didn't know what he was doing anymore than they did. He just wanted to see Freemen sweat.
Chavez dealt out the cards and the game began. Three thousand credits filled the middle of the table. Grabowski picked up his cards and it was all he could do to not jump out of his seat. Three jacks and two queens. Somehow he managed to keep a straight face and raised them. They called all around the table until it got to Freemen. He raised as well. It went through another round of this before Grabowski said, "Alright, what's everyone got."
They laid down their cards except for him and Freemen. Chavez came in on top with a pair of aces. His excitement was short-lived though. "Full house," Freemen said.
His stomach jumped up into his throat for a moment. Freemen put his cards on the table. Tens and twos.
Grabowski smiled and saw his friend wince at the gesture as if it were a dagger. "Jacks and queens."
Freemen slammed the table. "God dammit!"
Grabowski took the winnings, which was about a month's salary, and laughed at their misfortune. Just like that, half of the table left. Only he, Mac, and Freemen stayed. He wanted his money back.
They played several more games. He won more often than not and Freemen's mountain of winnings soon became a foothill.
Grabowski was about to go but Freemen pleaded. "Come on man, one more game. Give me a chance to get some of my money back." He didn't even really care about the money. He had merely enjoyed seeing Freemen's over confident demeanor get blown to hell. Now, seeing him begging, he started to feel a little guilty.
"Fine," he said. "Deal the cards."
"Deal me in too," said a voice. He turned around and saw Foster. She took one of the empty seats, all the while looking at him with a devilish smile.
"I never took you for a gambler," he said.
"I'm all about the large stakes and high risks."
He should have known. "Don't think I'm going to hold back on you," he warned her.
"I wouldn't dream of it, darling," she replied. She saw the pile of credits and tossed her share into the mix.
Grabowski picked up his cards. They went around the table, everyone called. He decided he would make it interesting. "I'll raise two hundred." He said it as nonchalantly as possible.
Mac dropped her cards. "I'm out." She leaned back in her chair to spectate. Freemen tossed the credits in, though reluctant.
Foster's stare was piercing. It tore him apart; she was inside his head. "I'll call," she said. "And I'll raise you two thousand credits."
Freemen let out a long whistle before his cards slapped against the beer stained table. "Too rich for my blood."
Was she out of her mind? Two thousand credits was a small fortune. He scanned over the cards in his hand, trying to come to a decision. If she was bluffing and he folded, she'd make a fool of him. If she wasn't and he stayed, he was out a lot of money.
He looked into her eyes. They were impassive. They gave away no clue to what lay in her hand. He'd been lucky so far, he decided. Grabowski would do what he always did; push his luck to its limits.
"Well?" she asked.
"I'm in." He pushed the credits into the center of the table.
"Let's see what you got," she said.
He dropped his cards onto the table, face up. There was an ace of clubs and spades. He looked at her expectantly but she still showed no emotion.
Her cards went down, she had a royal straight. "I haven't played in an awfully long time. Do you know if this is good?" Freemen started laughing, one of those deep belly laughs.
"I guess we can add card shark to your resume."
She winked at him. He stood up and grabbed his earnings which were considerably smaller than they had been a few moments before. "Going off so quickly?"
"I've had enough large stakes and high risks for one day," he said and turned to leave.
She chased after him. "What if I could think of some other way for you to get your money back?"
She had that smile. "What did you have in mind?"
"My roommate and I switched shifts," she said. "I have the room to myself."
It was a short walk to her room. They walked it together, holding hands and having idle chit chat but when they arrived, it was all business. Foster hit the switch and jumped up at Grabowski. Her hands looped around his neck, her legs were a vice grip around his waist. She kissed him wildly as he stumbled forward, feeling his way toward the bed with his hands. He knew he was there when he hit his shin against it and fell clumsily forward onto the mattress. Foster giggled as he cursed.
He felt his way down the small of her back down to her butt and finally returning to the front. He fumbled with her pants, trying blindly to get them off. He found a zipper only to realize there was also a belt. He felt like he was trying to disarm a bomb with his eyes closed. In this particular case though, he was trying to arm it. The procedure was made all the more difficult with her pelvis grinding into his. His hands were caught helplessly in the fray.
Just as he reached the buckle and undid it, Foster pulled away and asked the question. It was the question of questions, one he had hoped to go unasked. "Do you love me?"
"What," he asked dumbly, hoping that might be a satisfactory answer.. This had seemed so promising too, he thought.
"It's just a question," she said. "Do you love me?"
"Can't we talk about this later?" he asked.
"I already know you do," she said confidently. "I just want to hear you say it." He was too tired to deal with this. PT and drills had run him down and he felt exhausted all of a sudden. He got off of Foster and stood up. He buttoned up his shirt, not even realizing it had come undone, and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"Out," was all he said.
"You think you're a shadow," Foster said. "You act like no one cares about you and you don't care about anyone else, but I know it's just an act. I can read you. Just like I did before during the card game, when I knew you were bluffing."

Grabowski walked out of her room.