There were flames again in his dream. They danced and licked at his skin, little pinpricks of pain spreading out, engulfing him, covering the sky. Alexsandr Kallus sat up in bed, his heart racing, his skin at once feverish and icy cold. It was not the first time. He'd been dreaming of fire so often these nights. There was fire, and a pain that started in his chest, like his heart had been torn out, and spread to every point in his body. The pain always woke him up, and he wanted to wrap his arms around himself and weep like a child, until the feeling of despair let up and he could breathe again.
He looked around his bare cabin, its contents held little meaning to his existence. Hidden behind the regulation books on his shelf, lay the glowing orb Zeb had left with him on the icy moon of Geonosis. Every day it was harder to go to sleep here, in this sterile place. Every day he became more rebel and less imperial agent, and it was harder and harder to do his part convincingly.
He forced his legs over the side of his bed and dressed.
Then there was that new lieutenant from Coruscant. His instincts told him something was off with her. She was meticulous and self assured, in that imperial officer way, but something about her didn't fit. He wondered if she'd been sent to flush him out, the spy that Thrawn knew was still in their ranks.
And that day, she'd taken to following him. Kallus turned the corner and lay in wait. She came into view, uniform hat low on her eyes and he grabbed her by the front of her tunic and slammed her into the wall.
"State your business, lieutenant," he growled in her face. The top of her head almost reached his nose, and he was a tall man. She looked into his eyes, surprised more than frightened. Either a straight forward imperial fanatic, or something else altogether. Something about her looked familiar.
"Why are you following me?" he bit out again, putting all the menace he knew in to the words.
She glanced up and down the hall, checking for witnesses. Bright cold amber eyes. No fear.
"He knows it's you," she said.
"What?" Kallus barked, taken aback. He must have misunderstood her meaning.
"He's known for a while and is using you to send them false information."
"Who are you?" he asked, his face a suspicious mask.
"You don't remember me, do you?" she said with a mocking smile. "I guess you can't remember everyone whose life you destroyed. It would cause quite the mental clutter."
He drew back, as if she had slapped him. He took in her features, amber eyes, straight nose, full lips. Her hair was covered under her hat. Why couldn't he remember?
"Don't strain yourself Agent Kallus," she said coldly. "You can call me Doppler 1. I'm with the Rebellion." Her attention shifted. "I hear steps," she said. He heard it too. The sharp cadence of troopers in their clanky armour.
She pushed against his chest, just a touch, and despite himself, he released her and stepped back. His life was unraveling fast.
"Why would I trust you?" he asked, his mind racing.
Her face twisted briefly with hardly hidden disdain.
"Because apparently there are people in the Rebellion who will overlook what you've done. Take it or leave it. They're just orders to me. Here," she passed a paper into his hand.
"What is this?"
"Communications frequency. In case you need an emergency pick-up."
She turned on her heel and walked the other way, and Kallus forced himself to do the same before the troopers came into view. The cold sense of being watched slithered down his back and he resisted the urge to physically reach a hand to rub the back of his neck. Not that saving face now made any difference. Thrawn had played him, used him, and now was about to tighten the noose.
And then he remembered. A sunny day on Lothal, troopers arresting a group of farmers, and his own voice, cold and self-satisfied saying, "Burn it all down. Let this be a lesson of how the Empire deals with those who cause sedition." A young woman struggling with a trooper, breaking free and almost making it into one of the buildings before she was dragged out. "Take her away," Kallus had ordered looking straight at her. The straight nose, full lips, wheat coloured hair, braided loosely over one shoulder, the stark look of anger and helplessness in her amber eyes.
Kallus squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to block the memory of the rising flames. Where these the flames in his dreams, he wondered. He forced his thoughts to the present. He had to hang in there a little while longer. Governor Pryce and Admiral Konstantine had been summoned to Thrawn, and he had to find out what they were discussing. He had an idea, he just needed to look for a mouse droid that would fit into an air duct.
He went about his tasks like a man in a trance, expecting an arrest to descent on him any moment.