When I finally wake up, there’s a white cat in a naval uniform seated on the normal-sized couch that’s in my room for my…handlers. I’m pretty sure I’ve worked with her before, but I can’t remember her name.
...
The cat makes some notes on her datacorder. “I’m sure you know she says you tried to kill her.”
I make a noise that’s a laugh and a sob and a whine all choked together, and my throat tightens for a couple of seconds. “I didn’t, I swear,” I plead. “I’m sure it looked that way to her. I was just trying to get the Sunstream back up, you have to believe me.”
She holds up a hand. “I don’t have to believe anything,” she says, and it feels like some of the chill I remember from the ocean water creeps into the room through my belly. “But why don’t you tell me what happened?”

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