More often than not, he dreams of his Stardust. Dreams of her running gaily across fields of green. Of her eyes lighting up at each and every new discovery of hers. He enjoys dreaming of these simpler times. The dreams allow him to remember his dusty farmhouse, his wife's small smiles, or Jyn's room filling laughter. They allow him to remember all the tiny details in his mind's eye. Details that are slowly fading with time. He can no longer remember what his wife's favourite scent was or the feel of Jyn's tiny hand in his own. It has been too long.
Sometimes, he imagines that his daughter had come here to the Empire with him, unaware that, somewhere across the galaxy, his daughter dreams of the same thing. Often, they both dream of him twirling her in his arms and showing her off like any proud parent. That she would have remained innocent of the evil behind it all. But, alas, that would never be. His beautiful and colourful imaginings would remain just that, figments of dreams.
He would always wake up slowly, struggling to remain in his dreams. It was hard to go from the vibrancy of his mind to stare at the cold walls of his new residency; to have the images so recently enjoyed fading rapidly. Sometimes, during these wee hours of the morning, he finds he has no will to get out of his bed, to continue on with his plans. Jyn is all that motivates him to continue on. He likes to think that his daughter is still alive, growing into a beautiful woman, even if he is not there to be her father. He hopes that, maybe, just maybe, she understands his actions and does not despise him for them.
After all, he is, perhaps, the only one who can stop project Stardust. He has ingratiated himself to the other engineers, building up the trust lost when he originally defected from the Empire. Now, no soldiers follow him around like lost puppies. No higher ups peer over his shoulder to make sure he does nothing traitorous. He is free to carry on integrating his plans into the Death Star designs. A flaw so subtle that no one would detect it. No one would surmise its ultimate purpose.
His stiff grey uniform is all too familiar to him these days. It's all he has worn for several years. Until recently, he was not allowed outside of the base, so he had no use for other clothing. He hardly needs to concentrate as he deftly undoes all the latches and zippers to pull the garment on, glad that it hides all evidence of his torture. He does not want to be reminded of the pain; both physical and mental. The scars remind him of his betrayal to all the things he holds dear.
The image that stares back at him in the mirror feels foreign, but all so familiar to him at the same time. He looks tired. A few more lines in his face than before. His hair is a little greyer. The image before him shows that he looks and feels years older than he should. A part of him wonders how much more stress he can take before he just folds under the pressure to keep up appearances. Another part of him considers, half-heartedly, about giving in completely to the Empire. For who can win against such a powerful foe? Guilt fills him for a moment before he squashes it down ruthlessly. There is a time and a place for self-pity. Now is not the time. There is always a way to defeat tyranny. As long as there is hope, there will always be a chance. Galen was determined to help create such a chance.
Schooling his face into a blank mask and giving one last glance around his barren room, he steps out into the corridor, heading towards the engineering labs. There is someone he needs to find. Breakfast can wait. Today is the day he proposes his first draft of the final stages of his design. The inner workings of the weapon will be laid out before Krennic and his higher ups, along with his contributions to the outer defence of the ship. With any luck, his exhaust intake would pass muster without a hitch. Then it would be just a matter of implementing the design. He would figure out how to get it to the rebels later. He had time. Years, possibly, to work that all out.
The other engineers were less inclined to agree with his plans, but he had already risen above them in rank and esteem. There reservations would mean little against his own opinion. After all, he was considered the sole reason that the project had not stagnated and fallen apart. He has always been exceptional in detecting flaws and coming up with new and innovative ways of working around or fixing them. The Empire would have a hard time replacing him now. He has put tremendous effort in ensuring he would be irreplaceable. What better way to ensure his survival? To ensure he would not be replaced at the first chance? These possibilities had to have been squashed before attempting his current stunt. It would not have gone well if he had been replaced part way through.
Quickly side-stepping out of the way of some Storm Troopers on patrol, he finds his target heading in the same direction as him, potentially going to his labs to retrieve him early for the meeting. The man notices him before long and turns towards him.
"Galen! Are your plans finished?"
Galen stops just before Director Krennic and remarks that, yes, it is ready. They just needed to be perused by Krennic.
Krennic has to review all of his workbefore he can attend any meeting.
Krennic's eyes light up at the possibility of being the first non-engineer to see the designs and Galen finds himself reminiscing on how the two of them used to be close friends. It was such a pity that it was not to be as their ideologies were vastly different from each other. He would never be able to condone and look the other way to Krennic's actions. Never be able to forgive him for murdering his wife and forcing his child to be without parents. But, for the sake of the world, he forces a friendly smile and keeps up the appearance of friendship. Without Krennic's support, Galen will get nowhere.
He places a hand on the other man's shoulder, and indicates with a wave of his other hand the direction his plans were held,
"Come, Director, I will show you."
After moment of silence as he leads the way, he hears the Director's footsteps behind him. Today… today is the day it all begins. The day I start to bring the downfall of the Empire.
He forces himself not to smile, but Krennic must have picked up on some small sign for he throws a narrowed eyed glance his way, suspicions already arising. Krennic is not and will never be the most trusting of men. Galen knows this very well because, despite his support, he has made sure he gets to review all of Galen's work before it gets sent up. He has not forgotten Galen's betrayal. Hell, Krennic searched the galaxy to force him back into service. All sense of mercy and familial bonds having been destroyed when Galen fled the Empire, leaving behind an overwhelming desire to dominate and control. Lyra was evidence of that. Only after all this time, had Krennic allowed a more friendly interaction between the two of them. Perhaps, chancing a little trust and trying to ignite an old forgotten friendship.
Even still, Galen decides to be even more wary and careful of the Director. Perhaps he has gotten too lax with him, despite his feelings towards the man. It is hard to completely let go of past bonds after all.
The door to his office slides open without noise, and, without preamble, he rifles through his desk, looking for his pad with the designs. Before long, he finds it and hands it to Krennic.
"I hope this meets your expectations. I tried to take into account your suggestions, but not all of them were feasible due to the overall structure design."
Krennic nods, too absorbed in reading to be bothered at the admission. Later, he will have a word with him. Galen knows it will not be as private event as he would like. Perhaps it will result upon another restriction placed upon him. A limitation of freedom again? Or something else? Only time would tell.
A few moments of tense silence follow, only interrupted by Krennic's fingers taping on the tablet. Eventually, he looks up and gives his verdict while handing the tablet back.
"You may proceed with this. It is an acceptable proposition for you to bring forward to command. The meeting will be held in two hours in the conference room. I suggest you clean up before presenting yourself."
Without further ado, he turns on his heal and, with a swish of his white cloak, is gone back out the door.
Galen merely tucks his pad under his arm and begins plotting his future plans. Having passed Krennic's critical eye, there was little chance that the command board would halt him in his tracks. It is this thought that makes him decide that his involvement with the Empire would not be for naught. He would be able to help his Stardust after all.
He has just passed another step on his road to hell, but he could not be gladder of it. He would accept his fate with smile when this was all said and done. He will know what he did to aid the Rebels, even if they did not and that was all that mattered. Stardust, he knew, would not believe him to be evil. She would know the truth.
It was time to take the next step.