Amid the uncaring void, alien to every form of life and sentience, a strange vessel drifts. Ion thrusters correct its trajectory every so often as imperceptible forces act upon it. Within, you are carried before a throne surrounded by weapons of war, the tools which the Paw of History must wield in order to make them obsolete. Upon the throne, elevated as to command worship, the symbol of order and progress: a single tabby cat sleeps on a crimson velvet pillow. The dimly glowing green flesh beneath her grey fur catches your eye - it reminds you of stories told about a terrible formless being dug out of the depths of the sub-surface oceans of Europa, which brought doom to a Federation research mission… Or perhaps a new, higher purpose. After a second, she wakes up, her golden eyes staring into you. She demands you pet her.