Kessel Run Week Four Challenge: Write a story between 100 and 1,000 words that is predominantly action. You can have as many characters interacting as you want, and you can include introspection as long as it doesn't outweigh the action.

The Battle (approximately 23 ABY)

He was outnumbered, that much was clear.

His opponents were still in hiding, but he could hear the whispers and rustling as they watched him, and he knew an ambush was inevitable. But where—

Suddenly a battle cry rang out from the leader, echoed by the rest of them, and he found himself tipping forward as someone leaped onto his shoulders from behind. He cursed himself under his breath as he fell; it was an amateur move to walk so close to that bit of high ground, and it might just cost him this fight.

He landed hard on his knees, then caught himself on his hands as his adversary pressed her advantage, still loosing war whoops—right in his ear, too—and used her momentum to knock him fully to the ground.

And with that, he was surrounded.

Her troops converged on him before he could rise, thumping him with small fists, and he knew that he couldn't stay on the ground like this, helpless before his foe. Gathering his strength, he lunged upward, shouting as he did: "For the Empire!"

This only served to galvanize his opposers, who shouted back their own unintelligible war cries and surged forward as the leader maintained her death grip around his neck, yelling orders to the others. One latched on to one of his ankles while a second whacked his other shin with something—a stick? It was hardly a blaster; yet when wielded with abandon as this one was, still painful, and he winced—as the rest pelted him with tiny unidentifiable missiles.

He tried to assess the field of battle as he grimly fought his way forward: there were five of them, all much smaller than he was, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in sheer ferocious enthusiasm, and he knew that he was in for the fight of his life.

Grunting, he attempted to dislodge the leader, who now hung down his back as she clung to him, her arms locked around his throat. Fortunately her small size and clear lack of sophistication when it came to hand to hand combat meant that his breathing was unimpeded despite her firm grip, and he decided that it was probably best to ignore her in favor of ridding himself of the one who still clung to his ankle.

Much to his chagrin, bending forward only shifted the angle of the leader's grip, and that did impede his breathing. Gasping and panting, he stood upright again, only to nearly tip over as yet another of the little hellions hurled himself at his other ankle, latching on as though his life depended on it.

All right, then; they'd do this the hard way.

"You'll never win!" he bellowed, driving himself forward despite the extra weight. The leader—for surely she was such, being the largest and most determined of the group—hung on, still screeching; her feet digging against the backs of his thighs as she scrabbled for purchase. The first of the ankle mynocks was now sitting on his foot, small arms and legs wrapped around his own leg, while the second held on only by his arms and was dragged along the ground with each step. The final two were the smallest; they darted in front of him, shouting at the top of their high-pitched voices, and with a determined swoop, he managed to bend down far enough to simply scoop them up, one under each arm.

They were all five of them yelling now, and he added his own wordless roar to the chaos as he managed each laborious step. A soldier of the Empire…never…gave up…

"Nico, the neighbors," a familiar voice called sharply across the din, and silence fell.

Well, except for the giggles.

Nico Jade paused in his determined stride and looked over at his mother, standing just inside the sliding back door. He was in time to catch the change in her expression as she took in the scene before her; irritation vanished as amusement rose, and she lifted a hand to cover her laughter. Beside her, Mara made no such attempt, smirking openly at him. In her arms, little Ben shrieked with delighted laughter of his own.

And he was no longer on Endor, fighting a desperate battle, but in his parents' backyard, with Valeria and Alaine held against his sides, giggling madly; Kaela and Rylan clinging to his ankles; and Nakari still hanging down his back, her arms locked around his neck.

"Grandma, Aunt Mara," Valeria called between her giggles. "We're Ewoks!"

"And Uncle Nico is a stormtrooper," Kaela chimed in.

"That certainly explains it," his mother said from the door, heroically keeping a straight face.

Nico's brother-in-law appeared beside Mara, sipping from a steaming mug as he glanced curiously out into the yard at the now-paused melee, and Mara turned to him. "Luke, you were at Endor. Is this an accurate representation?"

The corners of Luke's mouth twitched, but to his credit, he also maintained a calm expression. "Well, admittedly I was on the Death Star for most of it," he said. "But I do seem to remember more fur. Nakari, let go before you choke Uncle Nico."

His eldest niece released her grip and slid to the ground, and Nico set his daughter and youngest niece down as well, rubbing at his throat with only slightly feigned relief. His son, daughter, and nieces, he'd wager, could give the Ewoks a run for their credits any day.

"You win this time, Rebel scum," he told the children, and a new round of giggling broke out.

At the door, his mother shook her head, still smiling. "Everyone come get cleaned up; dinner is almost ready."

"Supervising that is definitely your job," Mara said, lifting an eyebrow at Nico.

"Reparations," Luke added. "Fortunes of war."

Nico only grinned at them, then began to herd the still-giggling group toward the house. "Come on, Ewoks. It's time for your victory feast."