Really, this is just a loving tribute to the multi-talented Mark Hamill. Pay it no mind.

And now, for your reading pleasure, a haiku disclaimer:

*clears throat*

Star Wars is not mine
Luke and Ben regrettably
Must be returned soon

*bows*

"Watch your back, Red Five!"

Luke Skywalker felt sweat crawl down his back as he stared at the near-impossible task before him. The whine and rumble of his X-wing filled the air.

"I'm in range. Target's coming up!" Red Leader's experienced voice sounded. "Just hold them off for a few seconds…"

Luke swerved and dodged and tried to stay out of enemy hands, exquisitely aware of every passing second. "Almost there…" intoned Red Leader. A few anxious moments passed, expectation hanging thick in the air… "It's away!" Red Leader crowed, startling everyone as the "special delivery" screamed towards the almost-impossible-to-hit mouth of its target…

Ben cackled with delight at the sound effects, but closed his mouth tightly as the spoon full of baby food came close. It smeared all over his cheek.

Luke sighed dismally. "Negative, negative," he groaned in the same flat voice. "It didn't go in- just impacted on the surface…"

Ben giggled again and slapped both hands down on the high chair, sending the rather large amount of food that had spilled there spattering up into Luke's face. A hideous glob of… mashed something… landed in his open mouth and Luke hastily spat it out. "Ugh." He eyed his uncooperative son. An eyebrow twitched as he hunched over and threw his voice again- this time a high, garbled singsong. "How you get so big, eating food of this kind?"

Ben loved it. Clasping his little food-coated hands together, he gave a belly laugh that brought a smile to his father's face. Sensing an opportunity, he continued in Yoda's odd tone. "Good food! Yes! Mmmm…" Ben laughed again, his whole body shaking. "For the Jedi it is time to eat as well! Come, good food! Come!" He ended with Yoda's nasal, cooing chuckle.

That did it. Ben burst into uncontrolled laughter, and Luke hastily crammed the spoon into his mouth. The chortles abruptly stopped as Ben closed his mouth in reflex and turned wide eyes upon his father. The self-congratulations Luke was feeling began to shift into guilt as his son stared at him with a distinct attitude of betrayal.

And Ben slowly pushed the food out of his mouth with his tongue.

Luke stared in horror as the fruits of his labor were again reduced to failure. Trying to clamp down on his annoyance, he spoke more firmly. "Come on now, Ben. You have to eat. Don't you want to grow up big and strong?" He used the spoon to scoop up the food around the baby's face and tried again. "You have to eat it."

Ben stubbornly moved his face away from the spoon, his expression halfway between a scowl and a pout. "If you don't eat it, you'll never be tall enough to grab mommy's stuff off the table like I know you want to…" Luke cajoled with no small amount of desperation.

No use. With a petulant cry, his son's tiny fist flung out and hit the spoon, sending its contents flying. Again, Luke wiped his face with the towel- which, according to his rough calculations, now contained at least five times the amount of food that Ben had actually managed to ingest.

The bright side was that Ben was giggling again, his toothless gums barely discolored by anything resembling sustenance. Luke gazed shrewdly at his son as the other gazed back with a look of total mischief poorly masked with innocence; a look that was pure Mara. Or at least, that's what Luke thought. Whenever she saw that expression, Mara usually grumbled something about Ben taking after his father.

He supposed they would have to agree to disagree on that point.

Well, Ben had liked the Yoda voice. Maybe if he tried another one… Drawing the towel melodramatically across his face, he gave his son the widest, most enormous toothy grin he could manage. "I see the joke's on me," he said in a cultured but very unbalanced tone. "Don't worry. When we're finished, we'll all be smiling!" To finish, Luke let out a cackling, maniacal laugh.

Ben gaped at him for a long moment, then began to cry.

Luke regarded his son with dismay, then fatalistically began shoveling food into the wide open mouth. Ben would swallow, blink and continue crying until Luke gave him another spoonful and the pattern repeated. Luke managed seven spoonfuls before he broke. "Hey, hey, it's okay! Daddy promises never to do that voice again, okay?" He ran an ineffective hand across Ben's head and groaned. "Don't cry, please."

Ben continued to cry. Luke racked his brain for something- anything- that might work. He whistled. He beeped.

Ben paused, hiccupping.

Luke proceeded to do his best impression of Artoo, which, in light all the hours they'd clocked together, was pretty impressive. The droid in question trundled into view, tootling in confusion at the noise. Luke imitated the tone as best he could, which sparked a rather indignant reply from the droid that Luke then proceeded to imitate. As whistles, beeps and clicks filled the air, Ben began laughing again. Throwing Artoo an extremely grateful look, Luke prepared another spoonful of baby food.

"Control, this is Wing Commander…"