"Ranger!" Dave exclaimed, horrified. "That's a Ranger—" He broke off at Theo's expression. "Yeah … I think I can." Then he'd see what he could do!
"Okay. Do a good job; I'll need a fair-sized lump to convince his Lordship." Theo turned his back to his prisoner.
Dave picked up the lamp and hefted it, thinking. He and Theo both wanted to help the Ranger, so he'd have to make his escape look real—but he didn't want to hurt Theo, who'd been as good to him as possible under the circumstances. He took a deep breath, gave the lamp a couple of practice swings, and then brought it down with what he hoped would be the right amount of force.
Without a sound, Theo collapsed.
"Hey, it worked!" Dave exclaimed, a little surprised.
Then he frowned as a sudden thought struck him, and he knelt beside Theo's limp form. A blow like that, he'd read, could sometimes kill! But thankfully this time it hadn't; he was relieved to find his guard still breathing. Theo might play a mean game of chess, but for a rebel he was okay. Dave started to leave the tent, but it occurred to him that it would look better if he took Theo's gun.
He did so, slipping the heavy disruptor pistol into his belt. He knew how to use it; his mother had been an Imperial Marine, and had made sure her husband and children knew how to handle all the weapons she'd been trained on. He checked to be sure the area was clear, then left the tent. Everyone seemed to be near the main fire at the center of camp, but he kept to cover anyway. He knew he should leave without stopping for anything, but he couldn't. Not with a Ranger being hurt . . .
The cries of pain were weaker, and as Dave made his way toward the fire, he found himself hoping the Ranger would pass out. He was getting too close to stay on the ground, though; he climbed one of the trees that ringed the campfire and made his way along a limb until he could see what was going on through the leaves.
Almost immediately he ducked back, half-sick and not wanting to believe what he'd seen. He'd known it would be bad, the sounds hadn't left any doubt of that—but knowing didn't make it any easier to watch an Imperial Ranger being beaten, maybe to death. Dave's first impulse was to start shooting, but even as he reached for the disruptor in his belt he realized that would do more harm than good. Firing into the rebels would just get him recaptured, maybe killed, and that wouldn't do either him or the Ranger any good. There were too many rebels, and it looked like they were all mean-drunk.
Where in Chaos were the Marines? Dave thought desperately. They should be here, stopping this! In the holos, they always came to the rescue—but in his mother's stories, they were sometimes too late. He inched forward again, horrified fascination making it impossible for him to look away. The Ranger's cries had subsided to moans, his body jerking at every impact of the whip the rebels were taking turns using on him. After what seemed like hours, even the moans ceased, and he hung limp in his bonds.