Plea from a Hostage

I have not been able to post for some time as a mouse is terrorising us. I have snuck this missive out in the rubbish collection. If he finds out that I am in communication with the outside world, the retribution will be harsh. I haven't much time, nor space to write. I am scratching this into an old cat thigh bone that the mouse has tired of, using a broken knitting needle. All I will say for now is this: Help.
Please help me.
The ships controls are re-routed to the mouse den and the only food being replicated by the machines is Stilton. I hate Stilton, and I'm getting very podgy. I don't know where we're heading, but I doubt I will make the annual convention this year. Lock into my signal if you can. Track us. This mouse must be stopped.