He discovered quickly that he could do very little. Wood from fallen limbs and whatever brush he could cut with the stolen hunting knife would provide little protection from stunner fire, and none at all from the blasters or disruptors he thought the rebels were likelier to use. And there wasn't enough loose rock—in sizes he could move, anyway—to block the cave entrance. He supposed he could use his disruptor to enlarge that crack in the wall just inside the cave mouth, but that would be asking for trouble; the rebels couldn't possibly miss that kind of energy release. And he didn't dare waste his firepower on that; he didn't have much to begin with. He'd just have to hope the rebels didn't find them, and retreat to one of the side passages for shelter if they did.
He spent the next few anxious hours alternating between Tarlac and the cave entrance. The Ranger was doing as well as Dave had dared let himself hope, but rebel cars were moving by more often, and seemed to be centered closer to the cave. Once, he could have sworn he glimpsed an Imperial Marine troop lander, but decided that had to be wishful thinking; if the Marines were getting ready to land, the rebels should be running for cover, not continuing to search for escaped prisoners.
A little after noon, what he'd been dreading happened. Half a decade rebel aircars descended, and moments later he heard shouts and the sound of people forcing their way through brush. He checked the disruptor one last time, then moved back to the side passage he'd chosen. He wasn't as frightened as he'd thought he would be in such a situation, even though he was certain he'd be dead soon. He was more angry at the unfairness of the whole situation than anything else, and he intended to make the rebels pay as heavily as he could for their two lives.
Waiting for the rebels to get to the cave entrance, Dave had a vivid memory of his mother's amused disgust at war holos. "In combat, the idea isn't to play fair," she'd said more than once. "The idea is to stay alive while killing your enemy. You don't let yourself be seen if you can avoid it, and you certainly don't warn your enemy that you're going to shoot!" Well, he had the best cover he could get, and he didn't plan to issue any warnings. All he needed now was a target…
Light flooded the cave, and someone called out. "They're here! I see bloodstains—"
That was as far as he got; Dave fired toward the light. It went out, and there was a sharp "crack" as air imploded where the rebel had been.
There was a brief silence, then someone cursed, and half a decade blaster-bolts seared past Dave's hiding place, about chest-high. He dropped to the cave floor and fired back without looking.
The exchange of fire continued for several minutes, with the only result Dave could notice being that the cave was getting uncomfortably hot. Then he heard yelling, and the incoming fire stopped abruptly. Moments later, an amplified voice called out. "You in the cave—this is Captain Heidi Chiun, Imperial Marines. Come out with your hands up."
Dave started to obey, then hesitated. He thought he'd seen a troop lander, yes—but he wouldn't put it past the rebels to try tricking him, since they hadn't yet managed to kill him. "Send one of your people in here," he called back. "If you're really Marines, you'll be safe in power armor, and I wouldn't shoot anyway."
"Hold your fire, then." Dave heard crunching steps, like something massive moving, then the light from the cave entrance dimmed. "I'm inside," another voice said.