Well. She reminds herself firmly that this is, most definitely, the right thing to, lifting her chin defiantly.

"I told you once, that the Alaska crash-landed on an alien planet, and I was shipwreaked there, alone. That's all true. She went down thanks to a horrible navigational error. But some of the crew survived - mostly command crew, a few engineers. One junior entertainment manager. We didn't think there was anything alive on the planet, so we split up, to find water and resources to try and survive long enough for the rescue ships to come and find us. But there were things out there. I've mentioned Daleks too - they're... well, horrible, but there's a planet where they put the ones that have gone mad. Like, an insane asylum for creatures from a race that are already known for being psychotically homicidal. And we'd crashed there. Didn't take them long to find me. Normally that'd be the end of the story, 'cause of the homicidal bit, but they knew they were trapped on that planet. They knew they couldn't figure out how to get off, but I... I could. If I thought like them. I could get them off the planet." Her tone is flatter than the pancakes she made once without a leavening agent, but she's proud of it - it's not screaming, which is a definite plus.

"So they. Did a... full conversion." She doesn't remember picking up the hand towel from the oven rack, but she's twisting the holy hell out of it.