The Felis catus, a strange, willful, proud, and independent beast. Quick breeders. Efficient predators. Conservationists cried for native species put down by their swift claws. Yet very few could deny their beauty and grace, and many welcomed these small predators into their homes, onto their laps, and from there, their hearts.
Some legends say the cats were giant predators from the wild, shrunken by the force of necessity and survival. Other say they were little gods, spun from sun rays and twisted forth by shadows. Yet more old wives’ tales by alien savages say they came with the humans, superior species both, spreading prosperously across this far, far away corner of the galaxy. The savages then went on to claim that our fair native planets were once not our own. Such bold faced lies and heresy! But these are simply legends, superstitions, and old wives’ tales, nothing worth paying attention to at all, save for in passing entertainment, and not why we are talking about cats today at all.
No, dear friends, today we talk of cats, because cats are, as of this moment, the talk of the New Empire.
Why you ask? Why, because our poor dear beloved Emperor has suffered a recent and terrible loss. His most cherished lady, his best faithful companion, has recently passed away. No, not our valiant Empress Phasma, who is still very much hale and healthy, and leading the mapping corps as we speak, onto far flung frontiers and beyond. Nor their daughter, our dear Imperial Princess, who is no doubt hard at work in the Junior Imperial Academy. The lady who has passed was none other than our Lady Millicent, First Mouser of the First Order. Peacefully in her sleep, according to the Imperial Princess herself.
And we too, as good citizens of the New Empire, also feel her loss most keenly. Ah, to have an empty spot where her fluffy yet regale self used to sit or curl or drape in the royal family portraits. To notice how our Lord Knight Protector Ren’s dark coats are no longer dusted by fine orange hair. And to see our brave Emperor, laboring diligently for his people despite his loss. Oh how it tears at all our hearts.
- Snippets of an Editorial from Good Morning New Empire
** *Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Mitaka quickly closed the gossip editorial on his work monitor, shrinking a little bit lower on his chair sheepishly.
Emperor Hux, with a straight back, crisp uniform, streaks of premature grey gracing his temples, and a cup of strong caf in one hand, nodded good morning at his aid, and marched into his office, not a hint of unseemly expression to be seen on his dignified face.
Another typical day for the Emperor hard at work.
** *The Celanon system - Pravaat and Co Ltd.’s Annual Charity Dinner*
“President Pravaat, though I give compliments sparingly, I must say you have outdone yourself this time,” said Governor Brojthe to the charity party’s host.
The host in question, President Pravaat of Pravaat and Co Ltd., a multi-planetary company with its humble beginnings in textiles and current holdings in everything from children’s toys to military supplies, smiled winningly at the Governor and raised his drink for a toast. “Why Your Honor, you flatter me. This party should really be credited to the joint effort of my talented and trusty staff.”
Governor Brojthe took a swig of his own drink and scoffed, “Mr. Pravaat, you know I care very little for simple pomp and glitz. I was referring to your company’s most recent work for the New Empire. Fine uniforms you have provided for our men. A good balance between functionality and fashion for the holos and posters aimed at the masses, unlike the frippery some other suppliers have tried to pass as military clothes. Drooling clawbirds salivating after government funds and little else the lot of them.”
President Pravaat’s smile only got wider. “Oh Your Honor, you know we aim to provide nothing but the best for the soldiers of our dear Empire. The addition of fashion was but my own selfish indulgence. The art student in me never really left, even after all those years in this corporate seat.”
“An art student?” Questioned Brojthe.
“Yes, the Art Academy on Coruscant. But my family had long made our fortunes under the grace of the Galactic Empire. And I go where the New Empire needs me. Never quite put down the brush though.” The man looked down at his dominant hand, holding a half emptied glass of wine instead of a brush now, and his tone turned both nostalgic and proud, “I was fortunate enough to be commissioned for one of the royal portraits, two years after the coronation of Emperor Hux. It hangs in the Imperial Capital’s sixth district library today, the one with the cat sitting in our Emperor’s lap.”
“Ah that orange cat.”
“Yes the poor dear.”
Here both men paused awkwardly, and leaned in close to each other.
Governor Brojthe, ever a more straightforward soul, coughed and led with his blunt question, “I was never one for currying favors, the way politicians, and no offense, you businessmen do, but there’s been talks, that the governors and officers and industry men around the Imperial Core Cluster worlds are looking for cats the exact perfect shade of orange?”
“Yes. Why indeed yes. Why Governor, are you…?” Pravaat leaned even closer and lowered his voice, sensing an opportunity for future local government contracts and endorsements.
“President Pravaat, as you have seen that cat yourself, painted it you say. Do you, perhaps, know what shade of orange it was? These holo displays and flat films, they never quite do real life justice, or so they say.”
** *Star Destroyer, Vengeance*
“But Sir, are we really sending a mouser cat to the Capital? It is not even orange.” Captain Stele looked dubiously at the pet carrier that was supposed to ship out with their next planetary touch down.
Admiral Mordon simply nodded his assent. “Our chief mouser had quite the litter this year, more than enough to cover the vacancies in our own fleet. Sending one off to do its duties in the Capital won’t be amiss.”
“But Admiral, I thought you said Emperor Hux was above sentimentalities and non-receptive to bribery.”
“Ah, but sometimes, dear Captain, even the most hardened of us can be allowed a moment of sentiment. This silly old man and his potted plants, for one. And our Khanjali’s kittens have always grew to be exemplary mousers. I am sure Hux could find good employment for this little one.” Mordon smiled down at the napping kitten, and looked at his protégé and body guard with a touch of true fondness.
** *The Planet *
“Are you saying one of the human Emperor’s offspring have passed, Ambassador ?” Lord leaned down from her throne, and clicked her mandibles at the Ambassador.
“Well,” wringed his secondary forelimbs, his compound eyes somehow managing to convey a sense of uncertainty. “We are not sure, my Lord. But they do share such colorations. And supposed there were great mourning amongst the people. And I’ve heard. Mind me, only heard, but not confirmed...”
“Go on.”
“I have heard, that many of the lords and ladies subordinate to the human Emperor are looking for a surrogate in the Lady Millicent’s likeness, to smooth the Emperor’s sorrows.”
“! You insolent! You insinuate that I, the great , is subordinate to this so-called Emperor!” Lord roared.
“No, no my Lord!”
“Drones, drag this fool to the nutrient pit. I want him out of my sight!”
“NO, not the nutrient pit my Lord!” But alas, the Ambassador’s screams and pleas were ignored by the hard-shelled guards.
Upon the throne, recalled the flashes of fire from the First Order’s great ventral cannons, and wondered if they should perhaps look into finding a mammal in the Lady Millicent’s likeness too, just in case.
** *Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Chief Secretary Mitaka looked down at the padded basket on his desk, and pinched the bridged of his nose.
“Meow?” asked the tiny whiskered creature in the basket.
At least it wasn’t a pissed off Loth-cat this time. Whoever started the rumor of how the Emperor is looking for a replacement cat, Mitaka would find them, yes find them and express his great displeasure. Give them a stern dressing down. Oh yes he would.
** *Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, Foot of Capital Hill, Tarkin Memorial Park*
The sun was warm, the breeze was sweet, and the Park was abuzz with families out to enjoy another beautiful day in the Capital.
It would have been a perfect day too, except…
“Achoo!” Thanisson sneezed for the tenth time since he’d stepped outside that day. He glared from his spot on the park bench at yet another cat strolling leisurely past, probably shedding all the way.
‘The Emperor personally approved this reallocation and utilization of surplus resources,’ he said.
‘It would give the kittens something to do,’ he said.
‘The children and families will love it,’ he said.
And here Thanisson thought he’d be free of these mangy fur balls with his honorable discharge from the Finalizer, after sustaining severe injuries from a certain disastrous prisoner escape. Kriffing Mitaka and his kriffing ideas.
** *Some Space Port Somewhere in the New Empire*
The satellite station master scratched his itchy bum, then his large red nose, and squinted at the animal care instruction package in his hand. Raising his head, he then gave the same squint to the two Stormtroopers invading his office, “Mouser cats?”
“Yes. Our Emperor Hux, in his wisdom and benevolence, has seen fit to redistribute these mouser cats to all First Order artificial satellites, and all military and government ships capable of supporting populations of 1,000 and above for the purpose of pest elimination. Studies have shown biological pest control, when applied properly, is superior to its chemical and mechanical counterparts,” droned Stormtrooper GN-2100.
“And no need to worry about an overpopulation of cats, Sir. All of our specimens have been neutered and spayed. Please just sign here, here, and here,” Stormtrooper GN-3100 flicked through the holopad screens, and circled the dotted lines with speed and efficiency born of practice. He then took out a pet carrier, and plucked it down on the bewildered station master’s desk with a well-practiced “Thank you Sir”.
GN-2100 and 3100 sighed behind their masks, as the station master’s rather happy looking son waved them off. They signed up with the army to see worlds, spread the glory of the empire, and fight Resistance scum, not to be cat curriers!
** *Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Chief Secretary Mitaka peeled the clingy little tabby carefully off his lap, lamenting the eventual and inevitable loss of yet another perfectly good pair of pants, and gave the man standing in front of his desk an exasperated look, “Surely not you too High Colonel Kaplan. As you can see with your own eyes, we have somewhat of a surplus in cats right now for a government office.”
Colonel Kaplan coughed and hefted the pet carrier onto the Chief Secretary’s desk, to show it was empty. “Ah, no, Chief Secretary. I am actually here on behave of my daughters, to see if we might be allowed to adopt one or two of the younger kittens.”
“Oh Force please do!”
** *Some Space Port Somewhere Else on the Edge of the New Empire*
“What the?” Finn stared at the opened cargo ship, and was at a loss for words.
“Are you serious? Cats? This entire Imperial supply shipment consists of nothing but cats and cat care supplies? Are you sure you are not a decoy?” Rey gave the bound Stormtrooper prostrate at her feet a questioning look. Maybe the First Order had finally lost it.
The Stormtrooper shrank back into herself and whimpered a little bit.
Finn gave her a somewhat sympathetic look, and held out a hand in peace, “Don’t worry, we are not going to kill or torture you. The Resistance does things differently.”
The Trooper, slightly more reassured by Finn’s open, honest face, scrounged up some courage to beg, “Please, now that you know I am shipping nothing but cats, could I please have them back and be sent on my way? My Captain would have my hide once he finds out I’ve lost the cats half way.”
“We can’t really just let you go,” said Jessika with a slight frown.
“Yeah who know what the First Order has in store for these poor cats?” Finn frowned too, remembering the science experiments his old bunkmates used to whisper of.
The Trooper gave a dejected sigh and hung her head, only to raise it again in surprise and hope at the next words from the Resistance fighter with the open face.
“Hey, don’t look so upset. Your Captain doesn’t have to find out right? Say, what unit are you from? I was in the FN batch myself, yet look at me now.”
Fill - A Tribute of Cats part 1
The Felis catus, a strange, willful, proud, and independent beast. Quick breeders. Efficient predators. Conservationists cried for native species put down by their swift claws. Yet very few could deny their beauty and grace, and many welcomed these small predators into their homes, onto their laps, and from there, their hearts.
Some legends say the cats were giant predators from the wild, shrunken by the force of necessity and survival. Other say they were little gods, spun from sun rays and twisted forth by shadows. Yet more old wives’ tales by alien savages say they came with the humans, superior species both, spreading prosperously across this far, far away corner of the galaxy. The savages then went on to claim that our fair native planets were once not our own. Such bold faced lies and heresy! But these are simply legends, superstitions, and old wives’ tales, nothing worth paying attention to at all, save for in passing entertainment, and not why we are talking about cats today at all.
No, dear friends, today we talk of cats, because cats are, as of this moment, the talk of the New Empire.
Why you ask? Why, because our poor dear beloved Emperor has suffered a recent and terrible loss. His most cherished lady, his best faithful companion, has recently passed away. No, not our valiant Empress Phasma, who is still very much hale and healthy, and leading the mapping corps as we speak, onto far flung frontiers and beyond. Nor their daughter, our dear Imperial Princess, who is no doubt hard at work in the Junior Imperial Academy. The lady who has passed was none other than our Lady Millicent, First Mouser of the First Order. Peacefully in her sleep, according to the Imperial Princess herself.
And we too, as good citizens of the New Empire, also feel her loss most keenly. Ah, to have an empty spot where her fluffy yet regale self used to sit or curl or drape in the royal family portraits. To notice how our Lord Knight Protector Ren’s dark coats are no longer dusted by fine orange hair. And to see our brave Emperor, laboring diligently for his people despite his loss. Oh how it tears at all our hearts.
- Snippets of an Editorial from Good Morning New Empire
**
*Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Mitaka quickly closed the gossip editorial on his work monitor, shrinking a little bit lower on his chair sheepishly.
Emperor Hux, with a straight back, crisp uniform, streaks of premature grey gracing his temples, and a cup of strong caf in one hand, nodded good morning at his aid, and marched into his office, not a hint of unseemly expression to be seen on his dignified face.
Another typical day for the Emperor hard at work.
**
*The Celanon system - Pravaat and Co Ltd.’s Annual Charity Dinner*
“President Pravaat, though I give compliments sparingly, I must say you have outdone yourself this time,” said Governor Brojthe to the charity party’s host.
The host in question, President Pravaat of Pravaat and Co Ltd., a multi-planetary company with its humble beginnings in textiles and current holdings in everything from children’s toys to military supplies, smiled winningly at the Governor and raised his drink for a toast. “Why Your Honor, you flatter me. This party should really be credited to the joint effort of my talented and trusty staff.”
Governor Brojthe took a swig of his own drink and scoffed, “Mr. Pravaat, you know I care very little for simple pomp and glitz. I was referring to your company’s most recent work for the New Empire. Fine uniforms you have provided for our men. A good balance between functionality and fashion for the holos and posters aimed at the masses, unlike the frippery some other suppliers have tried to pass as military clothes. Drooling clawbirds salivating after government funds and little else the lot of them.”
President Pravaat’s smile only got wider. “Oh Your Honor, you know we aim to provide nothing but the best for the soldiers of our dear Empire. The addition of fashion was but my own selfish indulgence. The art student in me never really left, even after all those years in this corporate seat.”
“An art student?” Questioned Brojthe.
“Yes, the Art Academy on Coruscant. But my family had long made our fortunes under the grace of the Galactic Empire. And I go where the New Empire needs me. Never quite put down the brush though.” The man looked down at his dominant hand, holding a half emptied glass of wine instead of a brush now, and his tone turned both nostalgic and proud, “I was fortunate enough to be commissioned for one of the royal portraits, two years after the coronation of Emperor Hux. It hangs in the Imperial Capital’s sixth district library today, the one with the cat sitting in our Emperor’s lap.”
“Ah that orange cat.”
“Yes the poor dear.”
Here both men paused awkwardly, and leaned in close to each other.
Governor Brojthe, ever a more straightforward soul, coughed and led with his blunt question, “I was never one for currying favors, the way politicians, and no offense, you businessmen do, but there’s been talks, that the governors and officers and industry men around the Imperial Core Cluster worlds are looking for cats the exact perfect shade of orange?”
“Yes. Why indeed yes. Why Governor, are you…?” Pravaat leaned even closer and lowered his voice, sensing an opportunity for future local government contracts and endorsements.
“President Pravaat, as you have seen that cat yourself, painted it you say. Do you, perhaps, know what shade of orange it was? These holo displays and flat films, they never quite do real life justice, or so they say.”
**
*Star Destroyer, Vengeance*
“But Sir, are we really sending a mouser cat to the Capital? It is not even orange.” Captain Stele looked dubiously at the pet carrier that was supposed to ship out with their next planetary touch down.
Admiral Mordon simply nodded his assent. “Our chief mouser had quite the litter this year, more than enough to cover the vacancies in our own fleet. Sending one off to do its duties in the Capital won’t be amiss.”
“But Admiral, I thought you said Emperor Hux was above sentimentalities and non-receptive to bribery.”
“Ah, but sometimes, dear Captain, even the most hardened of us can be allowed a moment of sentiment. This silly old man and his potted plants, for one. And our Khanjali’s kittens have always grew to be exemplary mousers. I am sure Hux could find good employment for this little one.” Mordon smiled down at the napping kitten, and looked at his protégé and body guard with a touch of true fondness.
**
*The Planet *
“Are you saying one of the human Emperor’s offspring have passed, Ambassador ?” Lord leaned down from her throne, and clicked her mandibles at the Ambassador.
“Well,” wringed his secondary forelimbs, his compound eyes somehow managing to convey a sense of uncertainty. “We are not sure, my Lord. But they do share such colorations. And supposed there were great mourning amongst the people. And I’ve heard. Mind me, only heard, but not confirmed...”
“Go on.”
“I have heard, that many of the lords and ladies subordinate to the human Emperor are looking for a surrogate in the Lady Millicent’s likeness, to smooth the Emperor’s sorrows.”
“! You insolent! You insinuate that I, the great , is subordinate to this so-called Emperor!” Lord roared.
“No, no my Lord!”
“Drones, drag this fool to the nutrient pit. I want him out of my sight!”
“NO, not the nutrient pit my Lord!” But alas, the Ambassador’s screams and pleas were ignored by the hard-shelled guards.
Upon the throne, recalled the flashes of fire from the First Order’s great ventral cannons, and wondered if they should perhaps look into finding a mammal in the Lady Millicent’s likeness too, just in case.
**
*Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Chief Secretary Mitaka looked down at the padded basket on his desk, and pinched the bridged of his nose.
“Meow?” asked the tiny whiskered creature in the basket.
At least it wasn’t a pissed off Loth-cat this time. Whoever started the rumor of how the Emperor is looking for a replacement cat, Mitaka would find them, yes find them and express his great displeasure. Give them a stern dressing down. Oh yes he would.
**
*Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, Foot of Capital Hill, Tarkin Memorial Park*
The sun was warm, the breeze was sweet, and the Park was abuzz with families out to enjoy another beautiful day in the Capital.
It would have been a perfect day too, except…
“Achoo!” Thanisson sneezed for the tenth time since he’d stepped outside that day. He glared from his spot on the park bench at yet another cat strolling leisurely past, probably shedding all the way.
‘The Emperor personally approved this reallocation and utilization of surplus resources,’ he said.
‘It would give the kittens something to do,’ he said.
‘The children and families will love it,’ he said.
And here Thanisson thought he’d be free of these mangy fur balls with his honorable discharge from the Finalizer, after sustaining severe injuries from a certain disastrous prisoner escape. Kriffing Mitaka and his kriffing ideas.
**
*Some Space Port Somewhere in the New Empire*
The satellite station master scratched his itchy bum, then his large red nose, and squinted at the animal care instruction package in his hand. Raising his head, he then gave the same squint to the two Stormtroopers invading his office, “Mouser cats?”
“Yes. Our Emperor Hux, in his wisdom and benevolence, has seen fit to redistribute these mouser cats to all First Order artificial satellites, and all military and government ships capable of supporting populations of 1,000 and above for the purpose of pest elimination. Studies have shown biological pest control, when applied properly, is superior to its chemical and mechanical counterparts,” droned Stormtrooper GN-2100.
“And no need to worry about an overpopulation of cats, Sir. All of our specimens have been neutered and spayed. Please just sign here, here, and here,” Stormtrooper GN-3100 flicked through the holopad screens, and circled the dotted lines with speed and efficiency born of practice. He then took out a pet carrier, and plucked it down on the bewildered station master’s desk with a well-practiced “Thank you Sir”.
GN-2100 and 3100 sighed behind their masks, as the station master’s rather happy looking son waved them off. They signed up with the army to see worlds, spread the glory of the empire, and fight Resistance scum, not to be cat curriers!
**
*Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office*
Chief Secretary Mitaka peeled the clingy little tabby carefully off his lap, lamenting the eventual and inevitable loss of yet another perfectly good pair of pants, and gave the man standing in front of his desk an exasperated look, “Surely not you too High Colonel Kaplan. As you can see with your own eyes, we have somewhat of a surplus in cats right now for a government office.”
Colonel Kaplan coughed and hefted the pet carrier onto the Chief Secretary’s desk, to show it was empty. “Ah, no, Chief Secretary. I am actually here on behave of my daughters, to see if we might be allowed to adopt one or two of the younger kittens.”
“Oh Force please do!”
**
*Some Space Port Somewhere Else on the Edge of the New Empire*
“What the?” Finn stared at the opened cargo ship, and was at a loss for words.
“Are you serious? Cats? This entire Imperial supply shipment consists of nothing but cats and cat care supplies? Are you sure you are not a decoy?” Rey gave the bound Stormtrooper prostrate at her feet a questioning look. Maybe the First Order had finally lost it.
The Stormtrooper shrank back into herself and whimpered a little bit.
Finn gave her a somewhat sympathetic look, and held out a hand in peace, “Don’t worry, we are not going to kill or torture you. The Resistance does things differently.”
The Trooper, slightly more reassured by Finn’s open, honest face, scrounged up some courage to beg, “Please, now that you know I am shipping nothing but cats, could I please have them back and be sent on my way? My Captain would have my hide once he finds out I’ve lost the cats half way.”
“We can’t really just let you go,” said Jessika with a slight frown.
“Yeah who know what the First Order has in store for these poor cats?” Finn frowned too, remembering the science experiments his old bunkmates used to whisper of.
The Trooper gave a dejected sigh and hung her head, only to raise it again in surprise and hope at the next words from the Resistance fighter with the open face.
“Hey, don’t look so upset. Your Captain doesn’t have to find out right? Say, what unit are you from? I was in the FN batch myself, yet look at me now.”
“Nyaaaan,” said one of the cats from its cage.
**