The notion of an orange cat, a being who was not, and had never been, a Jedi setting foot within the sacred halls of the Jedi Temple, let alone taking up residence, was unprecedented.
Yet, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not merely proposing residency.
He was proposing something far more radical.
That Garfield be inducted into the Jedi Order's highest echelon, as a Grand Master.
Yoda, leaning on his gourd, considered this with surprising equanimity.
"Hmm. A powerful ally, this Garfield is. An extra shield for the Order, it would be."
"Troublesome, this is not."
"I disagree." Mace Windu's voice cut through the tentative approval like a vibroblade.
"His origins remain a complete mystery. Until we understand who or what he truly is, we cannot extend such trust."
"For all we know, he could be the elusive Sith Master we've sensed."
Seeing the beloved and admittedly, rather large, orange tabby slandered so thoroughly lit a fire in Obi-Wan.
"If this 'Garfield' were a Sith Lord, Master Windu, then the Trade Federation fleet he commanded could have obliterated my master and me without a second thought."
"He didn't."
He took a breath, his next words carefully chosen. "Furthermore, my master and I both felt..."
"This is a being with the power to stand against the entire Jedi Temple alone."
The chamber fell silent.
Yoda, a creature of centuries, a master of nuance, immediately seized upon the implication in the young Knight's words.
"Obi-Wan," he said, his voice soft but carrying the weight of the entire Order. "Know something you do."
"Things you are not saying, hmm?"
Obi-Wan's internal composure flickered for a moment. Exposed.
But Obi-Wan Kenobi was as sharp as he was headstrong. In the blink of an eye, he recalibrated.
Truth, he decided, was the simplest shield.
"Master Yoda," he said, his voice dropping, laden with a humility that was entirely genuine.
"My master and I... we were subdued by the other party with a single paw."
A single paw.
The fighting prowess of this... Garfield... was suddenly, terrifyingly clear.
Yoda leaned forward slightly. "Use a lightsaber, can this Garfield?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I haven't seen it. But he can fly, unaided. And he can perform... spells."
A ripple of quiet dismissal went through some of the more traditional Jedi on the Council.
"Spells," one muttered. "The so-called 'magic' is merely a variant of the living Force. All power stems from the unitary Force."
Mace Windu nodded in grim agreement. This was their doctrine, their bedrock.
There was only the Force, and its manipulation.
Yoda remained silent, watching them. A flicker of deep, profound weariness touched his ancient eyes.
So rigid, they had become. So closed.
Was this the rot that would fell them? Was this why the prophecy of the Chosen One hung over them like a shroud?
Obi-Wan, committed to his course, pressed his advantage.
He had been tasked with this by Qui-Gon, and he would not fail.
"Esteemed Masters," he said, addressing the entire Council, "Consider this, the Trade Federation incident revealed a critical weakness."
"As Jedi, our personal combat prowess is unmatched. But in the face of large-scale military conflict, armies of battle droids we are but a few lightsabers against the tide."
"We will always need strong allies." He gestured vaguely, as if indicating the galaxy at large.
"King Garfield, who currently holds a significant portion of the Trade Federation's fleet, is just such an ally. I implore the Council to consider the strategic wisdom of this union."
A heavy silence followed. Yoda and the others understood the uncomfortable truth in his words.
The Force was in a state of decline, its power elusive.
A single Jedi, no matter how skilled, could be overwhelmed by a hundred battle droids.
Their traditional role as peacekeepers and diplomats, as assassins of key targets, was viable. But a full-scale war?
For that, they would always need friends.
The Jedi had cultivated such friendships across the galaxy for millennia.
And sometimes, those friendships were all that stood between them and disaster.
The Trade Federation blockade was not an isolated incident.
A full-scale military deployment. They could send every Jedi in the Temple to break it. But at what cost?
A battle droid could be printed in minutes. A Jedi took a lifetime to train.
Yoda finally stirred, his gaze sweeping over the other Masters before settling on Obi-Wan.
"A point, Obi-Wan makes. Acknowledge our shortcomings, we must. Strong our individual combat is."
"But at a low point, the tide of the Force is. Change... necessary it is."
"The decision is made. These orders, merely official words they are," Yoda conceded, his ancient eyes heavy with the weight of their clandestine plan.
He and Mace Windu had already set a vital contingency in motion, dispatching the trusted Jedi Master to the cloners of Kamino.
There, a grand army was taking form, a force of last resort for the Republic and the Jedi Knights.
But such an army could not be grown in a day. It would be months before it was ready.
They needed a shield, a visible and flamboyant distraction to draw the public eye and any potential hatred away from their secret.
And so, the idea of using Garfield was a shrewd one.
The cat was immensely wealthy, and the staggering prize money he had put up for a game tournament alone was enough to make even the Jedi Order pause and take notice.
He was the perfect, temporary face for their operation.
Yoda turned to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan, you will excuse us. Matters there are to discuss."
"Yes, Master Yoda."
Obi-Wan offered a respectful salute and exited the chamber, the doors hissing shut behind him.
The room was now left to Yoda, Windu, and the other assembled Jedi elders.
Mace Windu had walked the path of the Jedi beside Yoda for decades. He knew his old friend's mind as well as his own.
The moment Obi-Wan had been dismissed, he knew exactly what Yoda intended to do.
Especially now.