Elder of the Jedi Order?
Even the title alone carried immense weight in this era.
It was a position of of ancient wisdom, of unparalleled connection to the Force.
Would Garfield accept?
Naturally. But on his own terms.
With a flick of a furry paw, the newly minted Jedi Elder graciously announced a sponsorship package that would make any corporate titan weep.
One million credits, upfront.
A full set of special commemorative skins for the entire Order, personally designed.
And a solemn promise to help each and every Jedi grind for any cosmetic set their heart desired.
Yoda, leaning on his gimer stick, watched the scene unfold before him with a growing sense of existential dread.
There, huddled around the astromech droid that Garfield had produced from... somewhere... were the senior leadership of the Jedi Order.
They were not meditating or discussing the will of the Force.
They were picking skins.
Mace Windu, his purple-bladed lightsaber resting idly at his side, was scrolling through a holographic menu with an intensity usually reserved for confronting Sith Lords.
He had found a deep purple-and-black set for his starfighter, and his brow was furrowed in deep contemplation.
"Fallen," Yoda murmured to himself, shaking his ancient head. "Fallen, the Order is."
Especially that Windu.
Had he not been the loudest voice of opposition? Had he not questioned Garfield's very soul?
And now, here he was, practically elbowing other Masters aside to secure the "Egg Man" prestige skin for his vessel.
So dark, so ugly. Did he have no taste?
Yoda's ears drooped. He said nothing, of course.
He simply... lingered. At the back of the line.
A position of humility, one might say.
In truth, when he had arrived that morning, he had walked with unusual slowness, and now found himself behind a gaggle of eager younglings.
It was, he told himself, merely a strategic observation.
He made a mental note. Later, he would approach Garfield privately. A bespoke Yoda skin.
Something perhaps in moss green.
In return for his generosity and new title, Garfield was granted more than just a fancy robe (which he immediately refused to wear).
The Jedi Temple issued a galaxy-wide notice of his appointment, solidifying his status.
He was also given certain... privileges.
When it came to educating the younglings, Garfield politely declined, and the Council, for their part, breathed a collective sigh of relief.
The goal was not to have him teach, but to utilize his unique position and resources for strategic advantage.
And what an advantage it was.
As an Honorary Elder of the Jedi Order, Garfield could now openly requisition materials from the galaxy's premier corporations.
New warships. Experimental hyperdrive technology.
The bureaucracy that would crush a normal petitioner simply melted away before the authority of the Jedi Council.
Kuat Drive Yards, Corellian Engineering Corporation, Incom, they were now at his service.
Incom, in particular, was his first target.
In a galaxy lulled by a fragile peace, their shipyards were idle. Their order books were empty.
The irony was rich, a galaxy capable of such magnificent creation, stagnating for want of a good war.
They were so desperate they were considering entering the gaming industry just to stay afloat.
Garfield's acquisition offer was less a hostile takeover and more a rescue mission.
Meanwhile, in the shadows, a very different kind of scheme was unraveling.
Palpatine had managed to slip away from the chaotic "trial" orchestrated by the Trade Federation's baffling bat-spirits.
His second phase was underway, secretly rebuild the droid armies, consolidate power, and continue the long game of undermining the Jedi.
What he didn't know was that his pawns were no longer his own.
The Trade Federation's core battle programming had been rewritten.
The new fleet they were secretly assembling? Its droid army was now running on kernels supplied by a certain feline elder.
It's advanced technology? Quietly provided by a shell company controlled by Garfield's growing empire.
While Palpatine plotted the downfall of the Republic, his army was being recursively repossessed by a cat who just wanted a steady supply of lasagna and a fleet of his own.
Garfield knew the real power in the galaxy didn't reside in the Senate or the Jedi Temple.
It resided in the monopoly of the mega-corporations that kept the war machine fed.
And so, his next move was clear, acquisition.
His first target was Inkang (or as the galaxy knew it, the Techno Union's engineering division).
They were initially thrilled by the mysterious buyout. A buyer! Profit!
They had no idea their new benefactor was a lasagna-loving orange cat with a taste for starships.
If they had known, they might have tried to buy him out instead. But a quick glance at their ledgers, then at his, revealed a singular, undeniable truth.
They were not qualified.
Not long ago, this very group of men had thought it wise to come before the Jedi Council, seeking their official seal on a matter.
Now, one of their own had been inducted into the Jedi Temple as an Honorary Elder.
He was a Jedi Knight, in a manner of speaking.
But it was not a question of official titles or ceremonial seriousness.
His was a almost unprecedented existence.
In a galaxy where crossing a Jedi Knight often meant facing their blade, there was now a new dynamic.
Sometimes, a confrontation wasn't even necessary.
A passing mercenary, hearing of a slight against the Order's newest honorary member, might take it upon themselves to deal with the offender, delivering them, barely conscious, to the Temple steps.
The very idea was enough to give even the most hardened criminals pause.
This influence extended far beyond personal disputes. The acquisition of the Group was merely the opening gambit.
Soon, scattered shares in a multitude of corporations, including the powerful Mechanical Alliance, began to quietly change hands.
Garfield made no effort to conceal his actions, everything was done openly, a testament to his unshakeable confidence.
Every move was monitored from the shadows by Palpatine, who could only watch with growing frustration.
He possessed neither the Hutt's colossal financial reserves, nor the ability to confront him directly.
And now, with the mantle of Jedi Elder protecting his target, Palpatine's hands were utterly tied.
He was forced to stare helplessly as his own schemes were subtly undermined.
No one could impede Garfield's progress.
As the months of preparation passed, what had begun as a series of acquisitions was now coalescing into a formidable, unified economic power.
The future he was building was on track, and the galaxy was beginning to take notice.