Admiral Saresh Vanto commanded the Republic fleet assigned to Keldooine. His flagship, the 'Defender of Liberty' emerged from hyperspace at the system's edge, immediately deploying scout ships to assess the situation.
What they found was chaos.
Multiple Hutt successor factions were fighting for control of Keldooine's major cities. The population, long subjugated by Hutt overlords, had risen in rebellion but lacked the organization or weaponry to effectively resist the better-armed criminal syndicates trying to fill the power vacuum.
"No Imperial presence detected in-system," reported his sensor officer. "We have a clear window to establish Republic authority."
Admiral Vanto nodded, feeling a measure of relief. "Begin planetary approach. Deploy ground forces to the capital city and try to make contact with the local resistance groups. I want Republic flags flying over the planet within a month."
His fleet moved in and engaged the mercenary fleets in combat. However, one thing that should be known about Admiral Vanto is how arrogant he was. Despite being outnumbered 3 to 1, he believed in the ability of the Republic fleet to win the battle.
And he was right. The mercenary fleet, cobbled together from outdated vessels and crews who had never trained together as a cohesive unit, broke apart under the Republic's assault. Within two hours, half the mercenary ships had been destroyed or disabled, and the remainder fled into the outer system.
Though this was not without its losses. His fleet had lost 20% of its ships and about 10% of its starfighter corps. To him this was nothing but a necessary sacrifice for the greater benefit of the campaign. And while he was right to an extent, the morale of his men was still something he needed to watch.
"Ground assault teams, commence landing operations," Vanto ordered, watching the tactical display with satisfaction. "All units, remember your objectives. We're here as liberators, not conquerors. Treat the local population with respect."
The Republic transports descended through Keldooine's atmosphere, heading for the capital city of Drel Morka. As they approached, they could see the damage from weeks of gang warfare. Entire districts were burning, and the streets were filled with refugees fleeing the violence.
Republic soldiers disembarked from their transports, immediately establishing security perimeters around their landing zones. The Jedi accompanying the expedition moved through the crowds, using the Force to calm panicked civilians and identify threats.
Jedi Master Kelran Orr led a contingent toward the city center where intelligence suggested the local resistance had established their headquarters. He was a Zabrak in his late fifties, his face marked with the traditional tattoos of his race.
As they approached what appeared to be a fortified administrative building, armed figures emerged from behind barricades. They wore mismatched armor and carried weapons that varied by the person.
Master Orr stepped forward to begin negotiating with them, hopefully convincing them that they were here to help rather than subvert them to what the others were trying to do.
———
1 year later
It has been a little over a year since the conflict against the Hutts began and the situation had stabilized considerably across former Hutt space. The Imperium now controlled seven major systems including Nal Hutta, Nar Shaddaa, Sleheyron, and several smaller worlds.
The Republic had secured five systems of their own, while approximately a dozen remained contested by various criminal factions or independent resistance movements.
On Nal Hutta, the transformation was remarkable. The slave markets had been completely demolished, their foundations salted and marked with monuments depicting the history of slavery. The atmospheric processors were functioning at full capacity, and for the first time in centuries, the planet's sky showed hints of blue between the industrial haze.
Daimon stood on the balcony of what had once been the Grand Hutt Palace, now converted into the Imperial Administrative Center for the region. The building had been stripped of its gaudy decorations and rebuilt with Imperial architectural sensibilities.
Beside him, Elara reviewed a datapad containing the latest census data. "The population of freed slaves across Imperial-controlled territories has reached 400 million. Medical treatment programs have reduced mortality rates by 40% percent in the past six months with that number increasing each month. Education initiatives are being implemented in every major city."
"And the provisional government?" Daimon asked.
"Functioning better than expected. The council you appointed has representatives from twelve different species, all former slaves who demonstrated leadership during the transition. They're learning to govern, though they still require significant Imperial oversight."
Daimon nodded, satisfied with the progress. "What about tensions with the Republic?"
"Minimal direct conflict so far," Elara replied. "Both sides have been careful to avoid engagement. There have been a few incidents where Republic and Imperial patrols encountered each other, but commanders on both sides followed orders to withdraw rather than escalate."
"That won't last," Daimon said. "The Republic is consolidating their holdings, and eventually our expansion will overlap. When that happens, we'll need to be prepared for confrontation."
Luna entered the balcony, her expression a little worried about what she just heard. "Father, we've received concerning intelligence from our agents in Republic space. The Jedi High Council is pressuring the Senate to take a harder stance against our presence here. They're calling it 'containing dangerous religious extremism.'"
Daimon sighed heavily. The Jedi's obsession with opposing the Balance Keepers and Imperial philosophy had been escalating very fast for decades. "What are they proposing?"
"Increased military presence, sanctions against any independent worlds that trade with Imperial-controlled systems, and a formal declaration naming the Imperial Faith as a threat to galactic stability." Luna handed him a datapad containing the intercepted communications.
Daimon read through the documents, his expression darkening. The Jedi weren't just opposing him politically anymore. They were actively working to isolate the Imperium diplomatically and economically.
"They're afraid," he said. "The more worlds we liberate from slavery and oppression, the more people see the difference between Imperial governance and Republic bureaucracy. The Jedi claim to be guardians of peace and justice, yet they do nothing while entire populations suffer under criminal empires. Now that we've acted, their inaction is exposed."
"So, what do we do?" Luna asked.
"We continue as planned," Daimon replied. They already had sanctions of their own against the Republic. "The Jedi can make all the declarations they want. Words don't change reality. Our people are fed, educated, and free. The Republic's words ring hollow when compared to our actions." While he said that to her, in his head he dared the Republic actually do something against him. He didn't want to disrupt important events, but if they continued on their path then he would have no choice but to defend himself and the Imperium.
He turned back to the cityscape below, watching as construction crews worked on new housing developments. Former slaves learning trades, children attending schools for the first time in their lives. This was what mattered, not political maneuvering in distant Senate chambers.
"Increase our intelligence operations within Republic space," he ordered. "I want to know what the Jedi are planning before they act." Luna nodded. Lately she thought that the Republic was getting very daring in its actions.
"Also, I will appoint you as the Governor of this region. You will oversee all Imperial operations and the provisional government. I trust you'll handle any complications that arise. "It's been a few centuries since she was born and she has undergone more development than the average person and proved herself countless times.
Luna's eyes widened slightly. "Father, I... are you certain? This is a significant responsibility."
"You've proven yourself more than capable," Daimon replied. "In this conflict alone you've overseen the Liberation Front's integration, led our forces into battle, and you understand both military and civilian administration. Besides, I need someone I can trust absolutely in this position."
Elara smiled. "He's right. You're ready for this, Luna."
Luna straightened, her initial surprise slowly transforming into determination. "I won't disappoint you."
"I know you won't," Daimon said. "I'll be returning to Veldari soon. There are matters requiring my attention in the core territories, and I've been away long enough. Lord Maxim will remain as your military commander, and you'll have full authority to call upon the clone fleets if necessary."
Over the next few days, Daimon prepared for his departure. He met with the provisional government, outlining his expectations and assuring them that Imperial support would continue. He inspected the training facilities where former Liberation Front members were being transformed into a professional security force. He visited hospitals and schools, speaking with those whose lives had been fundamentally changed by Imperial intervention.
On his final night before departure, Daimon stood alone in the meditation chamber he had established in the palace's highest tower. The Force swirled around him, showing fragments of possible futures. He saw Republic fleets clashing with Imperial forces, Jedi and Balance Keepers locked in ideological warfare that would span generations, and something darker that was created by the Force.
Unlike the Sith, this entity felt completely captured by the Dark side, yet it was too powerful for even Daimon to see which worried him. He wondered if this was one of the things that he constantly contemplated over the years. An entity born from the Force due to his presence. Something like that wouldn't be far off as the Force could seek to balance certain things through various unorthodox means.
The visions troubled him. While he had knowledge of the galaxy's canonical timeline, his actions had already created significant deviations. The Sith Empire was developing differently under his influence. The Mandalorians were expanding faster than they should. The Republic's militarization was accelerating beyond what history recorded.
And then there was the matter of the Celestials' technology. Cortana's research was progressing, but each breakthrough raised new questions. The beings who had shaped the galaxy itself had left behind tools of unimaginable power, and he was only beginning to understand their true capabilities.
A knock at the chamber door interrupted his meditation. "Enter," he called.
Elara stepped inside, her presence comforting. "You're worried about something."
"Always," Daimon replied with a slight smile. "The future is never certain, even for those who can see fragments of it."
She moved to stand beside him at the window overlooking the city. "You've accomplished more than anyone could have expected. A year ago, this region was controlled by slavers and criminals. Now millions are free, building new lives."
"And how many more remain enslaved across the galaxy that we don't know about?" Daimon countered.
"You can't save everyone," Elara said gently. "Even you have limits."
"Perhaps." Daimon's gaze remained on the reconstruction of the former capital city of Nal Hutta. "But I can create systems that endure beyond me. Institutions that will continue liberating and protecting people long after I'm gone. That's the true measure of an empire, not its military might, but whether it improves the lives of those within it."
They stood in silence for several minutes before Elara spoke again. "When will you return?"
"When Luna needs me, or when the situation requires my direct intervention. Until then, she needs the opportunity to lead without me hovering over her shoulder." He turned to face her. "You'll stay with her?"
"Of course. Someone needs to keep her from working herself to death." Elara smiled. "She inherited your tendency to shoulder every burden personally."
Daimon chuckled. "I wonder where she learned that."
The next morning, Daimon's shuttle departed from Nal Hutta and toward the Luminary waiting in orbit. Once onboard he began his return to Veldari.