Chapter Text
The walls were a stark gray that seemed a lot colder than he was used to. With a sigh, he leaned back in the durasteel chair, feeling all of his forty-two years as some, but not all, of the aching in his back was finally relieved. He lamented the lack of cushions but recognized that it would have been too much of an expense, just as it would have been in the Clone Wars. He doubted that the new Empire had given much thought to addressing issues of minor discomfort when it had bigger problems to address in the aftermath. The rest of the room was quite bare as well, with a metal table and another chair being the only other pieces of furniture in the vicinity, and despite what he’d been told, this looked far too much like an interrogation room for his tastes. He had passed all of their tests. He was loyal to the Republic and to the empire that followed.
There was only one entrance in or out and while he didn’t hear the telltale sound of the door being sealed when he was brought here, he had no doubt that the very same troopers who escorted him here were standing watch outside that door. Quickly derailing that line of though, he reassured himself that he had only ever done his duty. He was broken out of his musings by the sharp hiss of the door he had been staring at. He straightened himself as he watched a rather portly man enter the room with two clone troopers with red CorSec markings at his back. The man was wearing a white uniform that was, quite frankly, unflattering for his girth. He radiated a perceptible sense of smugness as he took a seat and opened a thick file, laying it across the table.
The man adjusted his glasses, which he probably had no real need for, and made a show of looking over the file before speaking in an exaggerated High Coruscanti accent. “Ah... Admiral Wullf Yularen. Quite the war hero.”
Wullf raised an eyebrow in irritation. He wasn’t sure what manner of response this man expected from him. With a short tone, he replied, “According to some, perhaps.”
The man gave a discomfiting smile, accentuating his double chin. “More than you would think, I’m sure.” He paused for a few seconds and when it became apparent that Wullf wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, the man took on a flustered disposition that had to be, at least partly, feigned. “Oh, where are my manners? I have the honor of being Lord Crueya Vandron.”
Wullf recognized the name, being descended from Coruscanti nobility himself, but he couldn’t say that he knew much about him or what reason he had to be talking to him now. “Pleased to meet you, then. In what capacity are you speaking to me today?” His tone remained curt despite his ignorance of the power dynamics of the situation. He had expected an old colleague to debrief him, or at least someone with a military pedigree, not some fat noble whose most pressing concern a few months ago was likely what kind of feathers to wear to a dinner party.
Lord Vandron visibly puffed himself up as he answered, “Our Emperor has given me the responsibility of leading the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order.” He seemed to add a prolonged silence for dramatic effect, before continuing. “It is my foremost mission to ensure that none of the corruption and incompetence that plagued the Republic carries over to His Excellency’s service.” Patting his chest and lowering his head slightly, he continued, “To this end, I have also been placed at the head of a new personnel initiative designed to ensure the proper placement of experienced military officers in key positions.” Vandron nodded mostly for his own benefit as he reached some semblance of a point. “Your exemplary record warrants no less than a governorship at the very least.”
Wullf audibly grumbled before he could restrain himself. “Governorship of what?” Wullf had considered the possibility of being placed in a position at a naval academy of which the Empire was building several or perhaps extending his commission as an admiral in the newly formed Imperial Navy. Foremost, he was previously informed that he was being considered for a position in the nascent Imperial Security Bureau, which was being formed to track insurgents and other seditious elements including former Separatists. Any of the previous possibilities were acceptable to Wullf but a placement as a planetary governor was both unexpected and unwelcome. The posting held little tangible power and was a civilian position, the prospect of which Wullf despised.
“Why a planet, of course.” Vandron gave a smarmy smile.“The Commission had the ore-rich planet of Tatooine in mind”
Ore rich planet…Ha! the dust ball was full of the refuse of humanity along with every other species to inhabit the stars. Wullf remembered the planet from the aftermath of the battle of Teth.
...and wasn’t that a slaughter…
Only five clones out of an entire company made it out alive thanks to Asajj Ventress and her droid detachment. Jabba the Hutt’s son had been kidnapped by the Separatists and the Jedi Anakin Skywalker and his Padawan Ahsoka Tano were later dispatched to the surface of Tatooine to return the child unharmed to his father. General Skywalker hated that planet and Wullf could not help but share that sentiment given its typical denizens, smugglers, pirates and savage natives. The weather left little to be desired as well. Tatooine held a blistering heat during the day thanks to its twin suns and was bitterly cold at night, it wasn’t exactly a prime resort planet by the standards of any species. Its only main attraction was the prospect of unregulated podracing, a sport that the Imperial Senate had already decided was too dangerous to continue on other planets like Malastare, so Wullf doubted that, as an Imperial Governor, he’d have much of an opportunity to profit off of it. Not that it was one of his main concerns, however.
“Are there any other planets you had in mind?” Wullf hated the audible plea in his voice, but he desperately wanted a different assignment, one with a bit more dignity than dealing with Hutts and trying in vain to keep crimes like smuggling and sentient trafficking to the bare minimum.
Vandron smirked as he no doubt picked up on Wullf’s visible distress. “Not at the moment, no.”
“I was informed previously of a possible appointment in the ISB. Is that still on the table?,” Wullf asked.
Vandron frowned. “I’m afraid not.” He tilted his head in what appeared to be an attempt to affect an air of sympathy. “Given your previous association with traitors to the Republic, it was seen as ill-advised to go through with granting you the position as head and now that the position has already been filled, the Bureau did not see fit to place you in a lesser position when your skills could be better utilized elsewhere.”
That was some fancy talk to get across the point that he was now seen as unreliable, a prospect that infuriated him on so many levels. “I must object to the notion that I am somehow compromised. It would be hard to find a Republic officer who was not associated with the Jedi in some capacity. They were our commanding officers.”
Vandron nodded in concession. “That may be the case but let me assure you that there are Imperial officers, rising stars so to speak, that meet that criteria.” Tilting his head in thought, he continued, “Let me also assuage your concerns that you do not have access to a considerable security clearance. We do not want the future of Tatooine compromised due to a lack of intelligence on your part. All relevant files will be made available to you.” Vandron closed the file on his desk, not appearing to need its contents in the slightest, indicating that the interview was coming to a close.
It sounded like Wullf wouldn’t have much of a choice. He would either have to accept the position with some manner of grace or leave Imperial service altogether. Neither option sounded particularly appetizing but well...he was only two years away from retirement if the position ill-suited him.
“Very well. I accept.” Wullf was impressed with himself that he managed to keep most of the distaste out of his voice.
Vandron gave his smarmy smile once more. “Excellent, I will inform the Arkanis sector command to expect your transfer to the Tatooine system as its new governor. Moff Julstan will be expecting you within seven standard rotations on Arkanis proper to go over your new mandate and responsibilities.” With that, the corpulent man stood up and gathered the file under his arm. The troopers behind him shifted to their left in preparation to escort him out and Vandron gave another small smirk. “Good day and good luck, Governor Yularen.”
As the three figures exited the room and the door sealed shut once more, Wullf sagged in his chair in an uncharacteristic sign of defeat. He was thoroughly unprepared for this. Everything he knew revolved around warfare, ship to ship combat, boarding procedures, starship schematics, and a few creative tactics. Wullf was unsure how much of that knowledge would transfer to the governorship of a planet, especially a planet like Tatooine, which hadn’t had much experience with government of any kind. He’d really gotten himself into an untenable situation. There wasn’t much use in lamenting about it now, however.
As he was escorted out of the small, dingy interview room and back to the main concourse of the former headquarters of the Grand Army of the Republic, he observed the same red flags fluttering in the Coruscanti wind and the statues of clone troopers standing tall and proud. It inspired in him no small sense of satisfaction mixed with a keen sense of sorrow to know that the war was hard-won by the clones’ sacrifice. He would miss having the stalwart Captain Rex by his side to orchestrate ground operations. He had heard that the clones were going to be phased out and replaced with natural-born volunteers. In Wullf’s opinion that was the most ethical path forward, he just hoped that the term ‘phased out’ was not some sort of sinister euphemism like the Kaminoans were so fond of when they terminated ‘defective’ clones. Leaving that train of thought, Wullf reached his speeder after showing his ID to the nearby trooper.
Firing it up, Wullf piloted his speeder through the Coruscanti sky, watching as the sun set over and through the horizon of high rises. Although recently renamed to Imperial Center, he would never think of the planet as anything else other than Coruscant. As he deftly avoided the swarms of civilian traffic, he made his way to a military hyperlane that would take him to his quarters at the base. As he was driving, he contemplated the challenge that his new position would provide.
Tatooine wasn’t even a member planet of the Republic last that he knew, raising concerns in his mind about the Empire expanding too far and too fast to govern effectively.
Slavery… How in the nine stars was he going to tackle that?…how was the Empire?
Bringing his hand to his temple, he thought about all the issues that came with this white bantha of a planet and it was giving Wullf a very familiar sort of headache. This had nothing to do with flawed battle plans or incorrigible Jedi, however, and frankly, after the war he had no patience for being tied down in one place for too long. He’d just have to get used to it, he supposed.
Landing and disembarking, he went back to his quarters and picked up his datapad to log yet another day into the record. Resting on his bunk, he just hoped he wasn’t too far in over his head.