Chapter 16: Into the City - Part 2
POV: Oliver
The cantina shudders under systematic blaster fire, each impact sending vibrations through the duracrete walls that Oliver feels in his bones. His MP sits at zero, his enhanced abilities as useless as a disconnected datapad, while Imperial forces tighten their noose around their position.
[MP: 0/106]
[HP: 215/230]
[SYSTEM STATUS: CRITICAL ENERGY DEPLETION]
[NEURAL REGENERATION: HALTED]
[COMBAT EFFECTIVENESS: NEGLIGIBLE]
Through the cantina's reinforced windows, Oliver can see the methodical deployment of Imperial forces—stormtroopers establishing fire lanes, heavy weapons teams setting up suppression positions, and the unmistakable silhouette of Dark Troopers moving with mechanical precision through the city's industrial maze.
Din returns fire with calculated bursts, each shot placed with the economy of someone who understands ammunition conservation. Cara has retreated to a defensive position behind the bar, her rifle speaking death to any Imperial foolish enough to present a clear target.
Greef looks genuinely afraid for the first time since Oliver has known him—not the calculated concern of a businessman managing risk, but the primal terror of someone who realizes they've bet everything on a losing hand.
And Grogu...
Grogu reaches toward Oliver with those tiny hands, his Force-sensitive awareness picking up on Oliver's deteriorating condition. The child's eyes hold understanding beyond his apparent age, as if he recognizes the sacrifice Oliver made to protect him.
"Ten MP," Oliver thinks, staring at his trembling hands. "I have enough energy left for one last desperate move. Make it count."
POV: Moff Gideon
Gideon's shuttle settles onto Nevarro's duracrete with the controlled grace of Imperial engineering at its finest. Through the craft's viewports, he can see his forces maintaining professional siege tactics around the cantina where his targets have taken refuge.
"Sir," his aide reports with crisp efficiency, "the building is secured. Subjects cannot escape without engaging our forces."
Gideon adjusts his uniform with the careful attention to detail that has carried him through decades of Imperial service. Today marks the culmination of months of careful planning—not just to recapture the asset, but to eliminate the variables that have complicated his operations.
"Activate external communications," he commands. "Let's end this professionally."
His voice carries across the besieged cantina through amplified speakers, each word precisely modulated for maximum psychological impact:
"Surrender Dr. Voss and the child, and the Mandalorian and shock trooper may leave. You have demonstrated admirable loyalty, but this situation cannot be allowed to continue."
Through his command console, Gideon watches thermal imaging displays that show the heat signatures of five individuals inside the cantina. One of them—Dr. Voss, presumably—appears to be in significant physiological distress.
"Excellent," Gideon thinks with satisfaction. "Desperation breeds mistakes."
POV: Oliver
Oliver meets Din's visor through the cantina's smoke-filled interior, seeing his own desperate determination reflected in that anonymous faceplate. Around them, the sounds of siege warfare continue—the measured crack of sniper fire, the heavier reports of crew-served weapons, and underneath it all, the mechanical whisper of Dark Troopers moving into position.
"Don't," Din warns, recognizing the expression on Oliver's face.
Oliver smiles sadly, tasting blood from where he's bitten his tongue during the neural strain. "I'm buying time. Trust me."
He stumbles toward the cantina's main entrance, his legs unsteady from energy depletion. Each step feels like walking through liquid concrete, his enhanced nervous system struggling to maintain basic motor functions.
"Oliver!" Cara shouts, but he's already committed to his course of action.
The cantina door slides open, and Oliver staggers into Nevarro's volcanic afternoon with his hands raised in surrender. Imperial forces swarm him immediately—stormtroopers with neural disruptors, scout troopers with restraint cables, and officers with scanning equipment designed to verify his identity.
Gideon approaches with theatrical precision, his uniform pristine despite the chaotic environment. He studies Oliver with the analytical gaze of someone cataloging valuable specimens.
"Dr. Elias Voss," Gideon says with something approaching satisfaction. "Your research was groundbreaking. Flawed, certainly, but groundbreaking nonetheless."
Oliver tries to say something clever about the future—about the Clone Wars, about Palpatine's return, about the decades of suffering these experiments will enable. What emerges from his mouth is: "Flying kitchen appliances and lightning grandpa!"
Gideon's expression shifts from satisfaction to mild disappointment. "Brain damage from the resurrection process. Unfortunate, but not insurmountable. Dr. Pershing will be fascinated."
But Oliver isn't trying to communicate. He's buying time for his real plan.
[FLORA MANIPULATION ACTIVATED]
[MP: 0/106 - EMERGENCY RESERVE ACCESSED]
[TARGET: NEVARRO UNDERGROUND ROOT SYSTEMS]
[SCOPE: PLANETARY SCALE]
[WARNING: ENERGY EXPENDITURE EXCEEDS SAFE PARAMETERS]
Oliver reaches out with the last fragments of his enhanced consciousness, touching seed pods and root networks that have lain dormant in Nevarro's volcanic soil for decades. The geothermal energy that flows through the planet's crust provides power for his manipulation—more power than he intended, more than he can safely control.
Every plant, every root system, every dormant seed within a kilometer radius responds to his call.
Oliver collapses as his nervous system overloads, blood streaming from his nose as feedback burns through pathways never designed to channel such massive biological forces.
POV: Cara Dune
The eruption begins three minutes after Oliver surrenders himself.
Cara watches through her scope as duracrete streets buckle and crack, massive root systems tearing through infrastructure with the inexorable force of geological transformation. Vines thick as speeder bikes engulf Imperial vehicles, while trees that have been dormant for centuries suddenly surge to full growth in seconds.
"What the hell did he do?" she demands, though part of her already knows the answer.
Oliver gave everything he had—literally everything—to create chaos sufficient for their escape.
Through the spreading chaos, she spots a figure in an environmental suit moving with purpose through the confusion. The Hooded Watcher drags Oliver's unconscious form into the shadows between collapsed buildings, their movements suggesting medical expertise rather than hostile intent.
Cara tracks them through her scope, finger steady on her trigger, until she sees the Watcher inject something into Oliver's arm. His vital signs—visible through her helmet's medical scanner—immediately stabilize and improve.
"They're helping him," she realizes with shock. "Whoever they are, they want him alive."
The Watcher disappears before Cara can get a clear shot, leaving Oliver unconscious but breathing in the wreckage of what used to be Nevarro's central square.
POV: The Hooded Watcher
Agent Wraith monitors Oliver's vital signs through her suit's medical systems as the neural enhancer takes effect. His brain patterns stabilize from the critical instability that threatened permanent damage, while his enhanced abilities begin regenerating at accelerated rates.
[SUBJECT STATUS: CRITICAL BUT STABLE]
[NEURAL ENHANCER: ADMINISTERED]
[TEMPORARY REGENERATION BOOST: ACTIVE]
[ADDICTION POTENTIAL: HIGH]
"Not yet, Voss," she whispers through her suit's voice modulator. "You're not done."
Around them, Nevarro's capital has become a war zone of impossible biology—buildings engulfed by overnight forests, streets cracked open by root systems that grow with the persistence of geological time compressed into moments.
Oliver's abilities have evolved beyond even her most optimistic projections. The scale of environmental manipulation he achieved should have killed him instantly, yet the consciousness they installed in Voss's body continues to adapt and survive.
"Phase Three proceeds ahead of schedule," Wraith notes with professional satisfaction.
She activates her emergency beacon and vanishes into the chaos before Oliver's allies can track her position.
POV: Oliver
Oliver wakes to the sound of starship engines and the familiar sensation of hyperspace travel. His body feels wrong—not painful, exactly, but hyper-aware, as if every nerve ending has been amplified beyond normal parameters.
[HP: 230/230]
[MP: 50/106]
[FOREIGN SUBSTANCE DETECTED: NEURAL ENHANCER]
[TEMPORARY REGENERATION BOOST: +2 HP/MIN, +1 MP/MIN FOR 24 HOURS]
[WARNING: SUBSTANCE POTENTIALLY ADDICTIVE]
Through the Razor Crest's small viewport, he can see the star-streams of hyperspace flowing past like liquid light. They escaped Nevarro, but he remembers very little after surrendering to Gideon.
"What happened?" he asks, his voice coming out stronger than expected.
Cara sits nearby, cleaning her rifle with the methodical precision of someone processing stress through familiar routines. "You turned half of Nevarro into a jungle. Very dramatic. Also very stupid."
"Did we—?"
"Grogu's safe. Din's flying. Greef stayed behind to help rebuild his city—again." Cara doesn't look up from her weapon. "Someone in an environmental suit injected you with something. Your mysterious benefactor, presumably."
Oliver examines the injection site on his arm—a small puncture wound surrounded by skin that feels hypersensitive to the touch. His enhanced abilities hum with artificial energy, regenerating faster than they should.
"They're making me dependent," he realizes with growing alarm. "First the resurrection, now enhancement drugs. Each intervention makes me more valuable and less free."
"Cara," he says quietly, "what if I don't want to know who I was before? What if knowing makes everything worse?"
She finally looks up from her rifle, her expression shifting from professional concern to something gentler. "Then we deal with it together. You're not alone in this."
Oliver studies her face—the scars that speak of battles fought and survived, the steady competence that comes from military service, and underneath it all, genuine care for his wellbeing.
"Thank you," he whispers.
Cara punches his shoulder lightly. "Don't get sappy on me, nature boy."
But she doesn't move away when he leans against her shoulder, exhausted by transformations he never chose.
POV: Din Djarin
Din emerges from the cockpit to find Oliver and Cara sitting together in the cargo hold, Grogu playing quietly between them with his metal sphere. The child appears unharmed by their ordeal, but Din can see the way he stays close to Oliver—as if the bond between them has deepened through shared trauma.
"We need to find the Jedi," Din announces without preamble. "The Armorer gave me a lead before the covert fell. A planet called Corvus."
Oliver tries to respond, but his speech curse activates when he attempts to say specific names. What emerges is: "Orange lady with head tails."
Din stares at him through his visor. "...Sure. Corvus it is."
[XP GAINED: +3,000 FROM ENVIRONMENTAL CHAOS AND SURVIVAL]
[TOTAL: 6,000/15,000 TOWARD LEVEL 5]
[NEURAL ENHANCER EFFECTS: TEMPORARY BUT SIGNIFICANT]
[QUEST UPDATED: FIND THE JEDI ON CORVUS]
As hyperspace carries them toward their next destination, Oliver watches Grogu play and tries not to think about the injection site that still burns with artificial enhancement. Somewhere in the galaxy, people who claim to own him are watching his progress, measuring his growth, and planning their next intervention.
But for now, he has family around him and a purpose that transcends his own survival.
It has to be enough.
Because the alternative—surrendering to despair in the face of forces beyond his control—would dishonor everyone who's chosen to stand with him.
And Oliver refuses to let that happen.
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