It was a lovely day. The sky was a pastel blue, interrupted only by the thinnest of clouds, and the sun blazed, coating everything in a golden shimmer. The stream trickled at the bottom of the field, and birds swept overhead, their wings aflame in the light.

Kate sat with her back to her favourite boulder, watching it all, transfixed by how beautiful her homeworld was. It could always amaze her on the most ordinary of days, and so it had now. She'd seen paintings of landscapes – meadows, towns, forests – and none of them compared to this. The sun ran over her fur, warming it, and it sent a shiver of ecstasy through her. A million smells touched her nose, and she took it all in.

One such smell she recognized was that of her mother's cooking, and she followed it almost subconsciously towards the house, where a column of steam was venting from the kitchen window. Her floppy ears picked up the sounds of bubbling pots and clattering pans, and her feet began to move, bringing her up the stony path from the field to the house.

From the back door emerged her mother, her smile wider than Kate had ever seen it. From behind her mother's ample frame appeared her father, and Rebecca was there, too, her tongue out in the typical greeting she reserved for her sister. Kate ran faster, her sneakers bashing up clouds of rock dust, her arms out to get at least a goodly chunk of her mother between them. She embraced her, and yapped like a puppy.

"Well, this is nice," her mother said with a smile in her voice. "It's good to see you."

From off to the left came Rebecca's squeaky voice. "Who is she, Mom?"

A thudding chunk of cold dread hit Kate in the stomach, and her eyes snapped open. She looked up into her mother's face; the look of friendly curiosity was worse than any snarl. "What do you mean? I... I live here."

"No, you don't," Millie Holloway said, her face still friendly. "We're just about to have lunch, and you can join us if you like. You look like you've been walking for miles. You from the city?"

"Mom, what are you doing?" Kate asked pointedly, her attitude barely covering the hopeless terror welling in her. "I'm your daughter! My name is Kate, and... and..." She felt her lip tremble as the terror overrode any outward sign of control. "You're my momma!"

"Millie, maybe we should tell the security team," Rufus, her father, said. "We've got a distressed minor who looks to be suffering a slight delusion."

"Delusion?" Kate cried, tears falling down her face. "No! I live here! I'm your daughter, and she..." She pointed at Rebecca. "She is my sister!"

"No, I'm not," Rebecca snorted, giving her the look Kate knew she reserved for whatever mystified or annoyed her. She looked back to her – Kate's – mother and tugged at her skirt. "Mom, call someone."

"No!" Kate wailed. "You're my family, and I live here, and... and... I..." She found herself running out of words, and her father – or just Rufus to her now – nodded.

"I'm calling the security team," he decided. "You two come in with me. You," he said to Kate, with that horrible detachment clear on his face, "you stay out here for now. They're coming to get you." And with that he slammed the door on her.

Kate sobbed and stumbled back down the path, drifting across the grass and collapsing against her boulder - the boulder. It was no longer hers, it would seem.

Had it ever been?

She sniffled and curled up in front of it. "Someone help me," she sobbed.

"Someone – help... muh!" Kate cried muzzily, jerking awake and slamming up against the back wall of her bed space. Her clever eyes darted about crazily, trying to make sense of this new world. Wait – it was the dormitory of that ship.

Focusing, her gaze found its way to the surface of the bed, where a book lay open, spine-up next to a blue polyester holdall – her holdall. She peered over it and found nothing but steel decking, along with a pair of light work boots. They were hers, too.

Kate moaned and rubbed her head. It felt like she'd banged it on something extremely hard, and her mind swam. "Muh," she mumbled again.

Her floppy ears twittered, bringing sound into the mix, and it was there in abundance: whirrs, distant rumblings – both from the ship systems, she surmised, and her engineer's instinct kicked in here despite this groggy state telling her that everything was nominal; her own breath which, despite how she felt in her head, was being taken through a healthily cold and wet nose; more distant sounds, these footfalls on deck; and the soft hum of the overhead lights.

Kate let out a sigh; it sounded pretty normal. I've just been dreaming, she consoled herself. She remembered, of course, what she had been dreaming about, and a sudden upsurge of sorrow nearly bent her double.

She'd been dreaming about home – about Summerkin – about her family.

Kate steeled herself as she picked up the sound of breathing from somewhere – someone – else. She peered out of her bed space, looking along the row of others. Curled up under the blanket of the third one along from hers was a female Red Panda, fast asleep.

Kate sprang back into her own bed. Who was this, again? Her name began with an A, that she knew... Agnes.

Kate swung her legs out and looked around the rest of the room, finding it vacant. It looked like she and Agnes were the only ones in here.

That impression was curtailed when the door to the dorm abruptly swung open to admit the head of a Tabby Cat; the interloper scanned the room and smiled when he landed on Kate. "Morning, sleepyhead," he said.

"Is it?" Kate asked, hoping she didn't sound as sullen as she felt.

"Local time, yeah. So, anyway, we're close to reversion and the cap wants everyone up and about." He swung his gaze to Agnes. "Dawson, up and at 'em!"

Agnes stirred and moaned. "Not fair. I'd just got to sleep."

"I can get Miller down here, if you like," Aaron said with a show of mock magnanimity, palms raised.

"I'm up, I'm up," Agnes complained, rolling off the bed and standing. She was still dressed, Kate noticed. "Last thing I need right now is to be yelled at."

Aaron laughed and looked back to Kate. "You okay? Need a minute?"

Kate nodded. She did. "Please. If you don't mind."

Aaron gave her a wink. "Alright. Don't be too long, though." He returned to Agnes. "Come on, stripy."

"Stop calling me that," Agnes grumbled as they both left. The door swung shut, and their voices receded into the ship.

Kate sat for a moment, her socked feet dangling above the deck. Then she lay back down on the bunk, shoved her muzzle into her pillow and burst into tears, crying in loud, whooping sobs. She felt so lost, so empty. She wanted a hug from her mother, a smile from her father – heck, a rude gesture from her sister... anything. Her family were who-knew-how-many-bloody-billion miles away from her, and she from them. It was a horrible thought, and it left her with a feeling of utter abandonment. Despite it being a dream, a tiny part of Kate feared returning home to find that she really had been forgotten. To be honest, it had been nibbling away at her since Saskatoon Station – since she had been accepted to this position, even, and it was eating her alive now.

Kate hugged the pillow to her face, letting her hot tears run all over it. She felt the coarse, rough sensation of shed hairs on the pillow, and remembered that it was spring on Summerkin – she had been shedding her winter coat for weeks now. A memory of her mother complaining about having to sweep up stray hair floated into her mind, and she found a little comfort in it. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, and for a moment she was home, giving her mother a great big cuddle.

The image faded from her mind quickly, however, and Kate was left with the inescapable truth – she was lying here, in a ship stuck in the furthest reaches of space, hugging a wet pillow with hair stuck to it.

She sniffled and righted herself, the pillow still in her arms, clutched to herself. She wondered if any of the crew would understand how she felt. Maybe they'd be sympathetic, know that she missed home and family. Maybe they'd laugh at her, think she was weak and helpless – a little puppy lost.

Maybe she just couldn't take the risk.

She yawned and stretched, trying to get some of that morning energy going. Her species was known for its hyperactivity, but right now it seemed to have deserted her. Nevertheless, she was still able to swing her legs back out and shove her feet into her boots. She retrieved her book, closed it and slipped it back into her holdall.

No sooner had she done this than Aaron Davis reappeared at the door; she threw the pillow back. "Ah, you're up," he mewled. "We're having breakfast, and I don't think you want to miss it."

"Why?" Kate asked.

"We're having gel-paste," Aaron said blithely. "It's the best damn thing you'll get out here. Not saying a lot, I know, but such is life."

Kate managed a slight smile. "I'll be right out."

Aaron nodded and left.

Kate sighed. Time to put on her best crew face and slurp some reconstituted muck. She left her holdall on the bunk and walked to the door. Like it or not, this tin can was her home for now.

She just hoped that someone out there still loved her.