Small


Sometimes, being small payed off. Granted – it wasn’t as often as Pip liked. Being a tiny brown mouse in the world of larger creatures meant he could never be a basketball star … or a giraffe chiropractor … or even someone who could reach that last bag of peanuts on the top store shelf. And of course there was always the risk of careless pedestrians on dusty Tailtooine streets stepping on his head. But when the Insurgency offered cash to anyone that could sabotage the Collar? Well, suddenly being short and sneaky didn’t seem like such a bad deal after all.


The Collar was a marvel of Imperium’s engineering – a massive, ringed space-station of iron and steel that circled the planet, serving as a terminal for the myriad of space-elevators that were sucking up Tailtooine’s resources. Ore, grain, water, cat-kibble – tons went up daily to be loaded onto interstellar freight-ships and sent away across the Imperium, leaving the Tailtooinians to fight for what scraps remained on the planet. But, like all collars, this one could be broken.


Sneaking onboard with the latest load of kibble, Pip scurried passed the bored station guards and underpaid lethargic dock-workers, darting between their hoofs and paws before they could even notice as he quickly jumped into a rusted vent blowing the recycled, stale air. From there he squeezed his way past tight access shoots and claustrophobic maintenance pipes specifically-built for rodent-sized mechanics, making his way deeper into the steel contraption. 


The constricting labyrinth of dark wire-filled tunnels and hissing pipes might have seemed nightmarish to others, but to mice like Pip it felt no different than a home-burrow beneath a busy city street. In the near absence of light Pip relied on his whiskers to guide him along the tunnel wall while his sensitive nose told him he was close to his target: the sharp odor of air ionized by hot, humming electronics mixed with the miasmic tang of computer coolant. The mainframe was at hand. 


With Pip practically being able to taste his prize the mouse’s mind drifted to the promised reward. Dreams of grandeur, of buying whole cheese shops & being praised as a hero raised the rodent’s spirit as he hurried onward down the last stretch of tunnel & entered the computer core. Suddenly, Pip stopped, his whole body frozen by instinctual fear. Inside the circular chamber at the heart of the station lay the mainframe, the crystalline computer core controlling every function of the Collar – and around the core laid coiled an Adder-Guard. 


Too scared to even squeak, Pip squeezed his eyes shut in silent terror. Memories flashed behind his eyelids as he waited for the fatal, venomous bite. The memories drew closer to the present moment and yet he did not feel the snake’s fangs on his neck. Eventually, with no more life-moments to review, Pip hesitantly opened an eye.


The Guard had not stirred. In the bluish glow of the mainframe-room Pip watched closely as the serpent’s shiny black scales rose & lowered rhythmically with each deep, steady breath. One of Queen Icepaw’s Serpent Soldiers – the living nightmare of every mouse rat and rabbit on Tailtooine – was sound asleep, eyes covered by his tail as he curled up snuggly against the warmth of the crystal computer. 


Not questioning his luck, the mouse quietly approached the mainframe’s access terminal. It took him only a few minutes to complete the rest of the mission – a few keystrokes here, an added command there, a couple of new lines of code elsewhere for good measure – and the rodent did more to sabotage the Collar than a team of armed insurgents ever could. New instructions went out to the loaders at the planet’s elevators. Fright ships’ manifests were changed. Imperium’s Feline Fifer Regiments were sent 3 tons of cucumbers in place of kibble. The Polar Bear Police will get warmer coats. The Dog Dragoons were gifted a shipment of vacuum cleaners. Pip smiled, as he realized what chaos was about to be unleashed.