Father and Son
"Bang, bang!" squealed Ben, crouched behind a fallen log, clutching his wooden blaster in both hands. He could almost see the fiery bolts flying through the air. Stifling a giggle, the black-haired little boy crept along until he could get a better view of the enemy.
The leafy spread of Endor's forest trees hid innumerable foes from Ben's eyes – he knew they were there, lurking just beyond the reach of his blaster fire. If he could sneak up on them without being seen, then he'd have a good chance at victory. Unless…
… they were already sneaking up on him.
A twig snapped behind the boy and he whirled around, gun raised.
"None of that," said the tall man, who held a blaster of his own. His voice sounded properly intimidating but he was grinning with fun. "Hands in the air, little Rebel."
Ben glared defiantly at the enemy. "I won't!"
"I see you're going the hard way about it," said the man. He pulled a comlink off his belt. "General, call in reinforcements – I've got a prisoner."
Ben, with a sudden reckless idea, dropped his blaster and dove past his captor, tumbling them both to the forest floor. They scuffled together wildly. Ben got a mouthful of leaves in the struggle. If he could only grab the other gun…
But then the man was on top of him, tying his arms behind his back and shoving both blasters into his own belt. "On your feet, Rebel," he said, helping up the little boy. "Won't the Emperor be pleased to find that I've captured such a valuable soldier?"
"I'll never serve Palpatine," declared Ben.
"We'll see about that."
Ben knew there was only one way out – one way to victory. But he'd have to act fast. Dropping to the ground again, he managed to slide his tied arms out in front of himself, then slip off the loop of rope. He swiped a stick off the forest floor and turned to face his captor, who had both guns drawn.
"You forgot something," Ben shouted gleefully. "I'm a Jedi!" He swung his lightsaber back and forth, blocking the enemy's blaster bolts. Bang. Bang.
Finally, with a wild leap, Bun flung himself forward and jammed his stick against the man's chest. With a mock groan, his enemy slumped to the ground where he lay silent for a moment.
"I got you, Daddy, I got you!" giggled Ben, tumbling down next to his father and flinging both arms out across the leafy ground.
Han Solo laughed and tousled his son's dark hair. "I sure wasn't expecting the lightsaber."
"Someday, can I have a real one?" asked the little boy, sitting up and hugging his knees.
"Maybe when you're older… a lot older," Han said, grinning. "Well, little Rebel, I think your mother has your lunch ready by now. Get your guns and let's go."
Ben picked up his wooden blasters and, after tucking them under one arm, reached up and wriggled his fingers into his father's large hand.
They walked home together in the dappled sunlight.
Father and son.