Chapter Text
Captain Piett was stressed. Even more so than usual, which meant the nervous energy was practically emanating from him. Captain Jerjerrod could feel it the moment he entered the wardroom.
“What’s the matter?” Jerjerrod asked. “Don’t tell me Vader choked another captain.”
“No.” Piett paused and amended his answer. “Well, yes, he did. But that isn’t the problem… relatively speaking, of course. You see, I happen to have a trip planned but the timing is turning out to be quite the issue.”
“Oh. What sort of trip?”
Jerjerrod braced himself to hear of some terrible mission to a miserable planet. Lord Vader was always dragging Piett along on all sorts of nasty excursions. Just the other day, he’d brought Piett to the aptly named Fire Log Forest of Mustafar. Piett had returned to the fleet out of breath and sweating profusely, having spent the entire trip dodging flaming logs rolling down from the Mustafarian High Ground Mountain.
“It’s a leisure trip actually,” Piett replied. “I’m going to Denon with Veers. He wants me to experience the Great Rock Throwing Festival. It only happens every three years, so it’s quite the event.”
“That sounds wonderful, Firmus,” Jerjerrod said. “I assume Veers will be participating in the festival, won’t he?”
“Yes. He’s a rock throwing champion. It’s a very strenuous competition, one that requires a great deal of muscular strength.” Piett’s eyes gleamed at the thought before his sullen demeanor settled back into place. “But I’m afraid we may have to cancel the trip. You see, Needa was going to watch Whiskers while we were gone, but he’s gotten tied up doing a profit share fundraiser with the ISB. Apparently, they’re renting out interrogation chamber vacation booths to raise money for orphaned tauntauns. It’s a good cause, and I can’t fault him for pursuing it, but now there’s no one to take care of poor Whiskers. I can’t just leave him all alone for three cycles.”
“Of course not.” Jerjerrod had often heard Piett discuss his pet Tooka cat. Clearly, the creature was very loved. “Have you considered getting a pet-sitter droid?”
“I can’t leave Whiskers with a droid,” Piett said. “He needs care and attention from a living being. He’s awfully sensitive to these things.”
Jerjerrod considered the matter. He couldn’t blame Piett for his concerns. It didn’t seem fair to have the poor man forfeit his much-needed vacation.
“I could watch Whiskers while you’re gone,” Jerjerrod offered.
“Are you sure?” Piett looked skeptical. “He can be a bit of a handful.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve handled my share of pampered pets,” Jerjerrod assured him. “In fact, my aunt still breeds Val Denn short-haired Tookas. I used to care for the kittens growing up.”
“You don’t have a cat in your quarters now, do you?” Piett asked anxiously. “Whiskers doesn’t get along well with other animals.”
“No, they’re all back on Tinnel.” Jerjerrod sighed. “I do miss them though. All the more reason it’d be a delight to watch Whiskers! I’m sure Motti will love it too. We’ll be sure to take the best care of your fur baby while you’re off watching Veers lift boulders.”
Piett took a moment to consider before nodding.
“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll drop Whiskers off Zhellday morning, if that’s fine by you.”
“That works splendidly, Firmus,” Jerjerrod replied.
“Thank you for doing this, Tiaan.” Piett gave a slight smile. “I’m sure you’ll love Whiskers. He’s a little feisty, but once he calms down, he’s a little angel.”
By the time Zhellday came around, Jerjerrod was well prepared for his little guest. He’d ordered a Tooka Tower lined with soft Chandril Sheep wool and set up a silver-lined litter box. He’d also purchased a variety of gourmet cat treats, imported with haste directly from Naboo.
Piett arrived at the appointed time pushing a covered stroller. The pram shook violently as he rolled it in. Colonel Veers followed behind him, carrying a hamper of pet supplies.
“Settle down, baby,” Piett said, patting the side of the stroller. “You’re going to have a nice weekend with Uncle Tiaan. He’ll take great care of you.”
“Thanks for watching him, Jerjerrod,” Veers said as he set down the hamper. “It’s tough to find someone willing to babysit a 14-kilogram rat.”
Jerjerrod frowned at the remark. He’d dealt with a number of ill-tempered cats before, but it seemed rather mean to call any of them rats…
“I’m sure he isn’t that bad,” Jerjerrod said. “It’s perfectly normal for him to be nervous around…”
The sight that greeted him in the stroller left him speechless. At first, he could only stare. Then, the creature lunged and Jerjerrod leapt backwards with an involuntary shriek.
“Whiskers, no!” Piett exclaimed as he reached out to catch the engorged rodent. “Calm down, baby. It’s okay. It’s just Uncle Tiaan.”
The creature writhed and chattered in Piett’s arms. Its beady red eyes glared at Jerjerrod with burning vitriol.
“What is that thing?” Jerjerrod gasped. For once, he was shocked beyond the point of manners.
“This is Whiskers,” Piett replied, evidently confused by Jerjerrod’s reaction.
“He’s an Axxilan Womp Rat,” Veers clarified. “They’re smaller than the Tatooine variety but faster. More energy. Sharper claws. Piett got him… where was it you found him?”
“In a coaxium processing plant on Axxila,” Piett said with pride. “The sweet thing was gnawing on a durasteel pipe when I found him. Of course, I couldn’t just leave him. So, I took him back, bathed him, gave him a good nutritious diet… and look how much better he is now!”
Jerjerrod was certainly looking. It was hard to be in the same room with a shrieking rat with razor-sharp fangs without staring at it.
The creature did have whiskers, so Piett’s naming hadn’t been entirely deceitful. Long, crooked whiskers which twitched angrily as the creature snarled. In addition to the fangs, the creature was equipped with a set of sharp claws, seven per crooked paw.
Piett stroked the rat’s fur, cooing to the animal softly as one would an infant. Slowly, Whiskers began to settle down. Contented with this development, Piett cradled the creature and gave it a goodbye kiss on the head before plopping it into Jerjerrod’s arms.
Jerjerrod looked down at the rat. Whiskers stared back at him. Their mutual horror lasted only a moment before Whiskers began to squirm and fell to the floor.
“Whiskers!” Piett screamed and hurried to check on his pet.
Fortunately, the rat was unharmed. It chattered at Piett and sniffed the ground curiously, pausing every few seconds to glance spitefully up at Jerjerrod.
“I’m sorry,” Jerjerrod said hurriedly. “I’ll… try to hold him better next time. Actually, perhaps I shouldn’t hold him at all.”
“Are you sure you’re comfortable doing this?” Piett asked. “You’re shaking.”
“No, no, I… I love rats.” The words were spilling out before Jerjerrod could think better of them. “I will admit, I was under the impression that I’d be cat sitting, but this is just lovely too. I’m happy that I can help you…”
Jerjerrod shuddered as Whiskers scurried over his feet.
“In conclusion, I’m delighted to babysit Whiskers,” Jerjerrod said. “This is a surprise but a welcomed one.”
Piett exchanged worried looks with Veers.
“Maybe we should have taken Lord Vader up on his offer,” Veers said.
“Absolutely not!” Jerjerrod exclaimed. The thought of his pet care being deemed inferior to Vader of all people was unbearable, even if the pet in question was a feral abomination of a rodent. “Please, I’ll take very good care of Whiskers. I promise.”
Piett gave him a hard look. The silent threat was implied. If Whiskers so much as lost a hair during his stay with Jerjerrod, there would be hell to pay.
“If you insist,” Piett said. “If anything happens, contact me immediately.”
He picked up the rat and gave it a final goodbye forehead kiss.
“Have fun with Uncle Tiaan, my little angel,” he said. “Daddy’s going to miss you so much. Now, say goodbye to Uncle Max.”
Piett held up the rat to Veers. To Jerjerrod’s relief, Veers forwent the kiss and settled for petting the rodent on the head.
“Don’t eat Uncle Tiaan while we’re gone,” Veers said before nodding curtly to Jerjerrod. “Take good care of him while we’re gone.”