Year 25 Day 164
Bright Jewel System, Outer Rim Territories
In a stunning turn of events, the managers of several key systems within the Confederacy of Independent Systems (CIS) have mysteriously disappeared, leaving their production complexes in disarray. Reports indicate that several were seen boarding a local trading station and vanishing without a trace. The reason? A little-known festival called “HerdFest,” hosted by the enigmatic Ithorians.
The Ithorians, known for their love of flora and fauna, have been celebrating HerdFest for centuries. Traditionally held on their homeworld, Ithor, the festival brings together beings from across the galaxy to revel in the beauty of nature. But this year, it seems the Ithorians decided to take their celebration on the road, and the Bright Jewel System was their chosen destination.
As the leaders of the CIS sipped exotic Ithorian herbal teas and danced to the hypnotic beats of alien drummers, their production complexes ground to a halt. Droids stood idle, assembly lines froze, and supply chains collapsed. The once-efficient systems now resembled a chaotic cantina during happy hour.
Local citizens expressed their frustration. “I just wanted my power converters,” said one exasperated mechanic. “But the manager overseeing the production line disappeared faster than a smuggler in a Kessel Run.
Meanwhile, CIS leadership remained conspicuously absent. Southern Magistrate Siejo Kutol, known for his stern demeanor and impeccable fashion sense, was reportedly elbow-deep in soil samples from Ithor’s famous floating forests. “These ferns are simply divine,” he declared, oblivious to the crisis unfolding in her absence.
Head of State Dex Sehrin, a Nautolan with a penchant for bureaucracy, was last seen chasing after a herd of Ithorian banthas. “I must document their migration patterns,” he mumbled, clutching a datapad.
As days turned into weeks, citizens throughout the south grow restless. Some formed impromptu committees to keep essential services running. Others took matters into their own hands, attempting to repair droids and restart production lines. But without proper management to dictate their every move, chaos reigned supreme.
Rumors circulated that leadership had become enamored with Ithorian culture. “They’re learning to play the tibanna flute,” whispered a maintenance worker. “And I heard they’ve adopted Ithorian names—like ‘Blossom’ and ‘Leafsong.’”
The burning question on everyone’s minds: Will the leadership of the Confederacy of Independent Systems ever return? And if they do, will they bring back more than just Ithorian souvenirs? Perhaps a newfound appreciation for organic gardening or a penchant for interpretive dance?
For now, the Confederacy of Independent Systems teeters on the brink. Citizens wait, their eyes scanning the skies for any sign of returning starships. And as the chaos deepens, one can’t help but wonder: Is this the end of efficient bureaucracy as we know it? Or merely a quirky chapter in the annals of galactic mismanagement?
Stay tuned for further updates—or don’t. After all, who needs functioning hyperdrive motivators when you’ve got a good Ithorian jam session?