The High Claw Group headquarters had been attacked.
The enemy stormed the game server room, knocking out the universe's favorite pastime for nearly an hour.
The official statement that followed was swift and sharp: a strong condemnation of the militants and their shadowy backers, plus a promise that a retaliatory fleet would deploy the moment any trace of them surfaced.
High claw Group, the statement declared, had zero tolerance for anyone who disrupted the gaming experience of players across the universe.
Unfair competition and suppression would not be answered with lawsuits.
They would be answered with warships.
The players of the universe lost their collective mind.
Which blind, suicidal faction had done this? Did they want to be erased from existence?
"Dare to disturb our peaceful lives? Do you want us space pirates to go back to our old ways?"
Don't underestimate space pirates.
Remember: one Executor-class Star Destroyer, built during the Sith Empire era was captured by pirates.
Several major pirate groups immediately issued declarations across every known network: those militants would pay for disturbing their hard-won tranquility.
Garfield read the messages and smiled. He knew exactly how powerful these space pirates could be.
During the Sith Empire's reign, they had built thirteen super-battleships, the Dreadnought-class.
The Executor-class interstellar dreadnoughts, manufactured by Kuat Drive Yards (KDY), measured 19,000 meters in length, powered by thirteen engines.
Armed with over five thousand turbolaser cannons, ion cannons, and defensive deflector shield generators.
Each carried a crew of roughly half a million, including 120,000 stormtroopers, plus hundreds of TIE fighters.
Such a vessel, stolen by space pirates. And not a few hundred thieves; it took real power to walk away with something that size.
So don't underestimate the pirates. When they went berserk, even the Sith Empire thought twice.
As for how the militants escaped? Garfield had let them go on purpose. Whether they could survive Palpatine's reach was none of his concern.
He had given them a door. Staying or walking through it was their choice.
After the attack, several departments on Coruscant sent official letters offering to "inspect" and "repair" the site, either directly or "in accordance with regulations."
Garfield knew what they really wanted.
Someone was pulling strings behind the curtain. He refused firmly.
The bureaucrats were not pleased. They offered a hundred reasons why their "duties" required access.
When Garfield continued to refuse, the words turned into a war of words. And the war of words climbed all the way to the Parliament.
Though Palpatine was wanted and his factions supposedly in decline, that was a mask.
The real politicians still moved the pieces behind the board.
After much deliberation, Parliament passed a temporary decree: High claw Group would be *compelled* to accept repairs and statistical audits from various departments, along with a list of charges.
If they succeeded, they would ransack the entire company, server rooms, toilets, everything.
They would lick it clean. They would eat everything edible.
Before the session began, Jean Grey glared at the alien councilors circling like vultures.
"Boss, they're awful! They're trying to steal our company!"
Garfield soothed her. "Little Jean, don't get worked up. I've seen their kind before."
"Most are trash. The rest are fools following the crowd. A few just want a piece without making enemies."
Jean frowned. "Boss, you see it so clearly. Is there anything we *can* do?"
Garfield smiled knowingly. "I'm a law-abiding orange cat. I'll win them over with virtue."
"Virtue?" Jean pointed at the grotesque councilors. "Those heartless things won't listen to reason."
"Boss, are you sure you can win people over with *virtue*?"
Garfield's tone turned serious. "Jean, remember this: never ask a man if he's capable. Especially not your boss."
"It affects how much work you'll get in the future. My virtue has boundless power. The real question is whether *they* can afford it."
Jean caught his meaning.
A blush crept up her cheeks. "Boss... are you capable? What exactly is your virtue?"
Let them not be able to afford it.
Garfield didn't speak. He pointed to the sky.
Jean thought for a moment. "Boss... you mean Star Destroyers? Those heartless guys have plenty of fleets."
Garfield waved a paw dismissively. "No matter how many fleets they have, they're all trash in front of your boss."
"Let me tell you something. Your boss is an orange cat who can take on a fleet directly."
Take on a fleet? Jean had no idea what that meant.
But Garfield knew perfectly well. He was a magical orange cat with a divine artifact in his paw.
If it came down to force, his Hammer could bring down a fleet without breaking a sweat.
"Garfield, sir. It's time. Please enter."
A young council staff member hurried over to remind them.
Jean squeezed her hands nervously. "Boss... are you really sure? If not, let's call our fleet first. Strike before they do."
Garfield snapped his fingers. "Just follow along. Your boss can handle it."
Garfield had registered under the title of King, so he had his own seat in the council.
He led Jean Grey to the circular chamber and floated into the air.
The moment Garfield entered, the interim Speaker, the one who had replaced Palpatine, announced from the center of the rotunda.
"All attendees present. This session is now in session."
One by one, a parade of accusers stepped forward.
They took turns condemning Garfield and High claw Group, listing hundreds of offenses.
By the time they finished, Garfield sounded like the worst cat in the universe.
During the accusations, the truly wicked among them grew visibly excited. They jeered and sneered.
Especially when one misshapen creature demanded that High claw Group hand over its source code.
At that, they practically trembled with glee, as if they had already devoured the source code and built their own super-empire.
Garfield looked at their ugly faces.
Then he raised a claw.
"Dream on, you parasites."
"Expensive personal shields. Elite troops. Countless flying vehicles and spare parts. Don't think I don't know where those militants came from."
"Every bit of this is the work of you scum, the ones pulling strings behind the curtain."
"You want my source code?"
"You're not worthy."
He rose higher in his seat. "I'll show you what true virtue means."