Chapter 24: The Rescue Plan
POV: Oliver
The cargo hold of Slave I feels like a coffin—cramped, sterile, filled with the controlled tension that precedes desperate action. Oliver sits on a supply crate, his ribs wrapped in bacta bandages that do little to ease the deep ache of fractured bone and damaged tissue.
[MP: 40/116 - SLOW REGENERATION]
[HP: 180/240 - STABILIZED BUT COMPROMISED]
[SYSTEM STATUS: FUNCTIONAL WITH LIMITATIONS]
[PAIN THRESHOLD: EXCEEDED]
Two hours have passed since Grogu's capture, each minute stretching like hours while they plan an assault that feels more like an elaborate suicide. Through Slave I's cramped viewports, Oliver can see the distant glow of Gideon's cruiser—a Star Destroyer hanging in Tython's orbit like a promise of violence.
Din works at the ship's communication array with mechanical precision, his movements betraying none of the anguish Oliver knows he feels. The Mandalorian hasn't spoken since they left the planet's surface, his silence carrying the weight of a father who's failed to protect his child.
"Bo-Katan's responding," Din announces without preamble.
The holographic display flickers to life, revealing Bo-Katan Kryze in full Mandalorian armor. Her expression shifts from mild interest to focused attention as Din explains the situation with military efficiency.
"Grogu captured. Gideon has him aboard his cruiser. We need firepower and Mandalorians for a boarding action."
Bo-Katan's response is immediate and calculating: "I want Gideon. And what he took from Mandalore."
"Help us rescue Grogu," Din negotiates, "and he's yours."
POV: Bo-Katan Kryze
Through the holographic transmission, Bo-Katan studies the assembled team with the analytical eye of someone who's spent decades evaluating military assets. A Mandalorian foundling, two professional soldiers, and an enhanced individual whose biometrics suggest artificial augmentation.
"Interesting," she thinks. "Not much firepower, but motivated beyond rational assessment."
The enhanced individual—Dr. Voss, according to Imperial intelligence—catches her attention. His injury patterns suggest recent combat trauma, but his posture speaks of someone preparing for war despite physical limitations.
"Agreed," she says, accepting Din's terms. "I'm bringing Koska and Axe. We'll rendezvous at these coordinates."
The moment her agreement is confirmed, tensions in Slave I's cargo hold shift from despair to operational planning. But her attention is drawn to sudden movement as the enhanced individual explodes into motion.
"Can we skip the pissing contest?" Oliver snaps, his voice carrying uncharacteristic anger. "There's a kid in danger!"
Everyone stares. According to intelligence reports, Dr. Voss is typically calm, analytical, controlled. This emotional eruption suggests psychological pressure beyond normal parameters.
Cara touches his shoulder with obvious familiarity. "Easy."
Oliver deflates immediately, his anger collapsing into something closer to despair. "Sorry. I just... we have to get him back."
Bo-Katan studies his expression and recognizes something that transcends professional obligation.
"You care for the foundling," she observes.
"He's family."
The simple honesty in those two words shifts Bo-Katan's assessment from professional cooperation to personal respect. She nods acknowledgment.
"Then we'll get him back."
POV: Fennec Shand
Fennec listens to the developing plan with the detached professionalism of someone who's survived forty years of criminal enterprises through careful risk assessment. The parameters of their mission are clear: infiltrate an Imperial Star Destroyer, extract a high-value target, escape alive.
The odds of success approach zero.
"Prisoner transfer," Boba explains, outlining their strategy. "Bo-Katan's ship approaches under false transponders. Oliver and Cara as prisoners, the rest of us as guards. Once aboard, we fight to the bridge, secure the child, escape."
Fennec calculates variables with mechanical precision. "Survival probability: fifteen percent. Assuming optimal conditions."
"I've survived worse odds," Boba says with characteristic confidence.
But it's Oliver's response that surprises her. "Gideon wants me. Use that."
Din's rejection is immediate: "Not putting you in a cell again."
"I'm the bait," Oliver continues with desperate logic. "It makes tactical sense."
Cara's opposition is even more vehement: "No. We need you functional, not traumatized."
Fennec watches this exchange with growing understanding. The enhanced individual isn't just a team member—he's family to these people. They'll risk mission parameters to protect him, even when logic suggests otherwise.
"Emotional attachment," she notes clinically. "Operationally inefficient but psychologically significant."
The compromise they reach reflects this dynamic: both Oliver and Cara as prisoners, but with Oliver prepared to use his abilities once inside the ship to create tactical chaos.
POV: Oliver
While the others finalize invasion protocols, Oliver retreats to Slave I's small observation deck to practice with abilities that feel foreign despite months of use. Tython's wildlife has followed them into space—small creatures that somehow survived in the ship's life support systems, their presence providing connection to biological systems he can manipulate.
[ADVANCED CONTROL TRAINING ACTIVATED]
[MP: 10/116 AFTER EXPENDITURE]
[TARGET: MICROSCOPIC ECOSYSTEM - SHIP'S BIOSYSTEMS]
[SCOPE: ENHANCED COORDINATION PROTOCOLS]
He practices layering abilities—maintaining [Sensory Sharing] while using [Basic Creature Control], creating networked awareness that could provide tactical advantage during the assault. The techniques are exhausting but effective, each success building confidence in capabilities he's never fully explored.
"If this goes wrong," Oliver thinks, "I want to know I used every tool available."
But it's not tactical preparation that draws Cara to the observation deck. She finds him staring at Gideon's distant cruiser, his expression carrying the particular weight of someone contemplating mortality.
"Having second thoughts?" she asks, settling beside him on the deck's single bench.
"About the mission? No. About... everything else? Yeah."
The honesty in his voice breaks through defenses Cara has maintained since Alderaan. Oliver has never been anything but genuine with her—no hidden agendas, no political calculations, just someone trying to do right by the people he cares about.
"What if the Syndicate is right?" Oliver continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I'm just their tool, and everything I do leads back to serving them somehow?"
Cara studies his profile, noting the way he unconsciously touches the beskar bracelet the Armorer gave him—a gesture that speaks of someone seeking anchor points in uncertainty.
"You really think that?" she asks.
"I don't know what to think anymore."
POV: Cara Dune
Cara takes Oliver's hand, feeling calluses that speak of manual labor rather than laboratory work. Whoever he was before his resurrection, he's spent the past months learning to be useful with his body as well as his mind.
"I think you're the guy who nearly killed himself protecting children on Sorgan," she says quietly. "Who took a blaster bolt for me on Calodan. Who's about to walk into hell for a kid who's not even the same species."
She pauses, letting her words settle.
"That's not a tool. That's a person."
Oliver looks at her with something approaching hope, his enhanced biology clearly struggling with emotional processing that his artificial nervous system wasn't designed to handle.
"Cara, I—"
She stops him with a gesture, though not from rejection. From timing.
"Not now. After we get Grogu back, you can finish that sentence. Deal?"
Oliver almost smiles despite everything—the desperate mission ahead, the pain of his injuries, the uncertainty that permeates every aspect of his artificial existence.
"Deal."
They sit together in comfortable silence, watching Gideon's cruiser grow larger as Slave I adjusts course for rendezvous with Bo-Katan's forces. Soon, they'll put on the fake restraints that will carry them into the heart of enemy territory. Soon, they'll discover whether desperate courage can overcome overwhelming odds.
But for this moment, they're simply two people who've chosen to stand together against a galaxy that seems determined to separate them from everything they value.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: +500 XP FROM STRATEGIC PLANNING]
[TOTAL: 3,000/75,000 TOWARD LEVEL 6]
[HP: 200/240 AFTER MEDICAL TREATMENT]
[MP: 86/116 AFTER ABILITY PRACTICE]
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS: CARA DUNE - SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT]
[MISSION PARAMETERS: RESCUE GROGU - PRIORITY ABSOLUTE]
As Bo-Katan's ship approaches through hyperspace, Oliver touches the carved stone Ahsoka gave him—a reminder of what he is rather than what he was made to be.
A gardener with sharp tools.
Today, he'll discover just how sharp those tools can become when everything he loves hangs in the balance.
POV: Director Kain
From his mobile command center hidden in the asteroid fields beyond Tython's system, Director Kain watches the developing situation through intercepted communications and long-range surveillance. The enhanced individual designated Oliver—formerly Dr. Elias Voss—continues to exceed projections in both capability and emotional development.
"Fascinating," Kain thinks, reviewing tactical data from the battle. "His abilities have grown beyond original parameters, but so has his attachment to organic relationships."
The rescue mission represents an opportunity for field testing under extreme conditions. Whether Oliver succeeds or fails, the Syndicate will gather valuable data about the Host Control System's potential.
And if he fails, Director Kain will be waiting to collect their investment from the wreckage.
"Begin Phase Four preparations," he instructs his staff. "The subject will require extraction regardless of mission outcome."
On his screens, Slave I and Bo-Katan's vessel converge toward Gideon's Star Destroyer like moths approaching flame.
Soon, the Syndicate will discover what their enhanced asset is truly capable of when everything he values hangs in the balance.
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