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then they’d just sit there until it was time to get back in the
box, ranged back to the war ranger. He missed seeing the “outside”.
Paris had complained to Path the night before and she just said,
“You’d die.”
    His fellow marines were more sympathetic.
“Just watch it when we get back.”
    “No way, Chezza.” Kabab whined. “I’m not
watching work in my recreational time.”
    Chezza scratched his balls. “Just think of it
like a sci-fi movie, it’s not like the cameras will be on us.”
    But it was. After some wrestling they sat and
watched and all they saw was their footage from their personal
cams. Paris threw some popcorn at the screen. “Where’s the ranger
views?’
    Messma glanced around the room and pulled out
his tablet. “Hold tight.”
    Jackson got up and checked the passage. His
blond head of hair disappeared around the corner before reappearing
and he sealed the hatch. “Hurry up anyway.”
    They saw an image appear.
    Paris stared at it. “That’s it?”
    “You’ve got no appreciation, alien. That’s an
outside view of our mission. In the corner you can just make out
the space station.”
    Paris screwed up his face and then said with
a grin. “If you could just compile a bunch of shots and then add
some music?”
    Chezza tackled him off the chair and on to
the floor. After some roughhousing, something the commander
allowed, they tried to hack into the ranger systems and create a
“movie”.
    “This is fucked up, man!” Chezza
complained.
    “Shut up, Chezza. You’ll be labelled ‘potty
mouth’ and have to walk around with that stupid hat.”
    As long as it didn’t have a rat in it, Paris
thought snidely, and suppressed a little shiver. He shook his head.
The commander didn’t like swearing but humiliating the marines was
okay. “That chick is a bitch.”
    His comment endeared him to his squad.
     
    Path jumped up as he entered her cabin later
and her eyes went wide. “What happened to you?”
    “Just some friendly tussling with the
guys.”
    She studied his face and then nodded. “You
seem happy, what are you up to?”
    He just smiled. For the first time in his
life he really felt a part of something. The mission had been
boring and while his team laughed at him as he tripped over the
hatch lip charging into the station they had also helped him
recover and they took their quadrant with ease.
    “I’m the token alien.”
    “I see. Does that make you happy?” She
blinked as she looked up at him.
    “Path, don’t do that psycho-anal stuff on
me.”
    She huffed and sat back down curling her legs
under her. He ignored her surly mood and went to get himself a
drink. “We need a token chick in the squad next according to the
guys.”
    At the silence behind him he turned lifting
the cup to his lips. He took a sip and looked around the little
room. “Path?”
    He hung around her cabin for longer but she
didn’t come back. “Sulky cat.”
    Paris headed back to his cabin and read over
his medic notes again. It didn’t look too hard to mimic the actions
of a medic. The only thing he had to do on the last mission was
attach a bandy-aid. He watched the marine records again, taking in
the postures and songs. He had a good memory so that helped.
    Falling asleep was easy with a little sleep
spell.
     
    The next morning he dressed and headed to the
mess. The guys were already up and seemed excited about something.
He grabbed a tray and selected some food before heading over. Just
as he sat down the guys’ attention all shifted to behind him.
    “Hi, marines!”
    Paris’s spoon froze on the way to his
mouth.
    Path moved from behind him, with tray in
hand, and squeezed between Jackson and Chezza. She grinned cheekily
at Paris who hadn’t yet recovered.
    “I’m the token chick.”
    “Fuck yeah!” they bellowed out.
    Paris’s mouth fell open. No. No. No. This was
his moment! His moment to be a part of something and now his stupid
cat was here.
    “We’ve got the