Chapter III – Birds of a Feather

AN: Thanks for the reviews guys, and for the favs and follows, it really means a lot, and of course; I do not own Star Wars.

Avigail – 0BBY

"My name is Avigail Skywalker"

"I know."

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Avigail felt like screaming into a pillow.

She sat on a black couch, rubbing her bruised wrist, eyes fixed on anything but her captor, standing a little away. He too, avoided her gaze, his arms crossed across his chest. She knew he was frowning. That's all he seemed to do since whatever it was he had learned about her. Her identity had shaken him up, and it frightened her. He didn't really know who she was; just her name. The empire didn't know about her by name. Not yet, and she wanted to keep it that way. It seemed unlikely though. He'd figure it all out, and she'd surely be arrested, maybe even executed. She was technically already a prisoner, right? The teen wasn't even sure. A flash of movement caught her eye. Darth Vader had summoned a datapad to his hand.

There was that feeling again. It was a like soft humming in her ears. Here it was colder than before, causing her to shiver in her cloak, wrapping her arms around herself. It was nothing like Old Ben's presence. The feeling drummed strongly around the old man, and it was warm and gentle and protective. It had made her feel safe. Now it was cold and dark, and she wanted to get away. Run and don't look back until she had put light-years worth of distance between herself and the feeling. Yet… It was still protective. It danced around the dark lord, tendrils of darkness that seemed to curl around her and refused to let go. Yet they didn't hurt her. Just made her cold until her teeth and very bones chattered.

"It is the Force, child, which you see." The man said suddenly, turning to look at her.

The Force? "Do you see it?"

"Not as you do."

Before she could ask, he raised his hand for silence. She scowled in answer, lifting up her chin defiantly, and eyes blazing. "What do you want with me?" She asked, probably for the one millionth time since he had taken her away from Tatooine.

"Do you know who you are? Who you really are?" He inquired out of the blue, startling her.

Alarmed she nodded, before jumping to respond. "Sure. Avigail Skywalker; fourteen standard years, top of the class street kid, with a knack of annoying Imps." And the Galaxy's best smuggler, but she kept that bit to herself.

For a second he didn't answer, staring blankly at her. Maybe she shouldn't have said that specifically, but it had slipped out without much thought. She knew who she really was… At least, she was fairly sure she did, and she didn't want him to know. No imperial would know, not if she could help it. Yet, the Sith lord tossed the data pad on the table, still staring at her intently. "Your name is Avigail Skywalker, born nineteen years ago, on the first Empire Day to Padmé Amidala and… Anakin Skywalker. You're incredibly strong in the Force, more powerful than any Force-sensitive I have found before… And…" He fell silent, clenching his fists.

"Did you know my parents?" She questioned, arching an eyebrow. When he had mentioned their names… He had tensed up, and she had seen his eyes grow darker.

"Yes."

Avigail blinked, glancing down, biting her lips anxiously. There was so much she wanted to ask. Maybe he could see that. With the first smile – though small as it was – she had ever seen on his face, he silently beckoned her over. Wearily, she stood up, wincing as she felt the aches in her legs from all the running and walking about. Once standing before him, feeling tiny once again, he grabbed one of her hands out the blue, holding it in his own. She frowned, stiffening. Abruptly, he spread out his fingers. Confused, she looked at her hand, pressed against – and so small smaller than – his. "My daughter," he whispered.

She let out a soft gasp, staring wide-eyed up at him, the man she knew as the second-in command to the Empire, viewed by many as a monster, the one who dragged her away for seemingly no reason at all, and the one imp she could honestly say she was a 'little' afraid of. He couldn't… She shook her head. His eyes met hers. There was something there; pain, sadness... Remorse. She whimpered in protest and backed up. "That's not… I'm…" She was a lot of things, she supposed. Sometimes what she was changed, but there had always been one constant; she was an orphan. No parents. Left. Abandoned. Or something.

She was vaguely aware she was crying. Tears streaked down her cheeks, but the teen didn't wipe them away. Hazily she, at the very least, noticed nearby objects raising up seemingly on their own accord. The humming was so loud in her head, soon becoming the only thing she could hear, apart from her own muddled thoughts. When the chairs and couch started levitating, Avigail felt that cold feeling again, stronger than ever before. It was darker too. The same dark that radiated off Darth Vader. Everything levitating started trembling, as did her entire body. The feeling was trying to drag her away, to pull her down and she couldn't fight it, struggle as she did.

Without warning, a hand gripped her shoulders, firmly yet gentle. Everything fell, and she inhaled sharply, falling limp into her captor's arms. Everything was spinning. Avigail blinked, but nothing cleared up. Vader, no her father's, face was distorted, and she couldn't even make out the rest of her surroundings. Confused she cried softly, feeling lost and small all of a sudden. She felt herself being shaken delicately, and heard her name being repeated. Weakly, she mumbled a series of incomprehensible words, trying to regain her ability to focus, to speak.

"What was-is that?" The girl sobbed quietly, chattering her teeth again. The world was suddenly so cold; like ice. Avigail couldn't shake a feeling of familiarity, yet didn't recall any experiences like this. All she did know is that she never wanted to feel like that again; like she was being swept away. "It's too cold."

"You weren't able to control it," Darth Vader stated, gently laying her back down on the couch. "You're strong, but you don't know what you're doing."

And what is that? She opened her mouth to talk, but could not. Instead, she blinked tiredly as Vader tapped her forehead gently and everything slowly faded to black.

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Avigail found herself in the branches of a really tall tree. She wasn't particularly sure how she got there, but nonetheless, there she sat. It was with a frown she glanced down towards the grass covered ground, quickly learning she was in some sort of garden. It was beautiful. The teen blinked in wonder, staring at the strange flowers growing below her. She was certain she'd never been here before, yet the place was somehow familiar. Nearby, she saw two people walking towards the garden, seemingly deep in conversation. A women and… Someone Avigal could only perceive as Old Ben. Before she call out, a sudden shifting in the branches caught her eye, and she lifted her head up wearily, confused. There was someone else up in the tree with her.

A little girl. Seven years old at the least, with long, braided hair, and a beautiful light purple dress. Her face was lit up with a bright smile, which was easily replaced by a thoughtful frown, as she too, watched the two approaching. Avigal stared at her for a long time, noting as many little details with great alarm. The little girl… It was her. A soft gasp escaped her lips, the girl, little her didn't seem to notice at all. She was watching, slowly slipping down the tree to get a closer look. Uncertain, Avigal followed her younger self's actions, and listened.

"It's for her own safety, Padmé," Old Ben was saying. "And yours."

Something told Avigail Ben was talking about her, or younger her at least, and she frowned. She didn't remember this. Little Avigail was looking lost too, as if she knew she was the topic of their conversation as well.

"When the children were separated…" Padmé said softly, her shoulders slumped in a dejected manner. "She was so ill… I don't want to feel like I'm losing her again."

Ben's eyes flickered sadly. Avigail inhaled sharply. They were talking about her! She had been born sick, and placed in a hibernation of sorts to keep her alive. She didn't know why, and she didn't know who initiated it, but she knew it had happened. Feeling her hands tremble, she shook her head, breathing heavily. Why didn't she remember this? She, her younger self, was sitting right up there, listening to this conversation. Why didn't she remember?

Everything was spinning until she was spiraling into darkness. Frightened, Avigail spread out her hands, desperately trying to find something solid.

She was walking down a street, uncertain of where she was or where she was going. The place was extremely green; trees, grass, and lots of flowers just about everywhere. Avigail had been on many planets, yet none as beautiful or lively as this one. Nearby the young girl could hear the roar of… A waterfall? Curious, she scampered down the streets, dodging civilians and speeders, until she found herself looking over huge cascades of water. It wasn't a waterfall, it was many waterfalls.

It was beautiful.

She turned her head suddenly, to see the little girl again, her, running down the street. As far as Avigail could see, nobody was chasing her, yet she was desperate to get away. Worried, she chased after herself, wondering what it could be she was so determined to get away from. Behind her, she could hear someone trying to follow. So she was being chased. But by who? Slowing down, the smuggler turned around, freezing in shock.

Lev?

The world spun again, and Avigal struggled against her dream's course, wanting to know why. Why was Lev chasing her younger self? Why was her younger self so scared of Lev? Lev was her friend.

Right?

She sat in a garden again, but this place was different. Irritated, Avigail sat on a white bench, scowl on her face. She sat for what seemed like an eternity in wait. Yet little Avigail never appeared. Confused, she stood up, walking around the gardens. Something told her this wasn't even the same planet as earlier. The palace connected to the garden, it looked different.

Three figures were approaching the gardens. A young girl, probably in her early teens, was walking quicker, getting father ahead. She was chasing after something. Behind her, two adults; one of them the woman from earlier. Padmé. The other was a man Avigail recognized from her days as a smuggler.

Senator Organa.

So the little girl… That must be Leia Organa. What was Padmé doing here? This meant this place was Alderaan, right? Avigail, realizing that nobody could see her for some reason, quickly darted over to walk beside the Senator and Padmé. Even close though, she could barely make out the words. She pursed her lips, upset. All she could hear was snippets.

"Luke…. Leia…. Avigal…. René…. Danger…. Emperor…."

Everything faded to white.

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Avigail snapped open her eyes.

She wasn't on the couch… Or her chambers. Sitting upright on a soft, black bed, the girl glanced around a room similar to hers on Vader's ship. Something told her she wasn't there though. Wearily, she stood up, spotting a new change of clothes waiting for her on the side of the bed. Black. Of course. Everything here was black, white or gray. With a frown, she busied herself by taking a quick shower, and changing. For a long time, she stood there, staring at the mirror, frowning. Plain as it was, it was a pretty, long black dress with long sleeves. Her cloak had also been waiting for her, and thankful for the familiarity, she put it on, along with her black boots.

Anxious to be moving and doing something, her dreams disturbing her greatly, the girl slowly wandering outside the bedroom. Another living room. Sitting on a couch, she napped a datapad sitting on the table, curious. Unfortunately for her, it had a password, which she didn't know. With a dreary sigh, she tossed it back on the table. Not a second later a door slid open with a whoosh, startling her to her feet.

"You're awake." Vader's eyes flickered over her, in an almost analyzing manner. The humming was back, and she meekly shoved it away.

Neither seemed anxious to speak. Avigail shuffled awkwardly on her feet, avoiding his gaze. She had so many questions, but refused to ask them. He wasn't the one she wanted to ask… Except…. Her eyes widened when she remembered the woman in her dreams, and a name she had heard Vader mention. "Who's Padmé?"

The Sith, for his part, managed a look of calm, but Avigail realized she hit a nerve. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned that name. "Your mother," he stated coolly, his arms crossing across his chest again.

She mimicked the action, glaring up at him. "I know, but who is she? Where is she? What is she like? Why isn't she here? Where have you two been all my life?"

Oops. Avigail tensed a little, feeling as if the room had gotten ten degrees colder. Perhaps it had. Her father's eyes flashed, his fists clenched.

"I saw her in my dreams, she was talking with Old Ben, and then she was talking with Bail and… And… You don't like talking about her, do you?"

"You had a dream?" He inquired, ignoring her last question. She sighed before nodding.

Self-consciously, she sat back down on the couch, playing with the sleeves of her dress. "I didn't really get it… I saw myself there… In the garden; I was so little… But I know that can't have been me because I've never been there before, I can't have; I don't remember it." He was just looking at her blankly. "I dunno; it doesn't matter. I saw her, that's all; Old Ben was talking to her about… Something."

For the longest time the two remained silent. Avigail glanced around, wishing he would say something. He didn't. She couldn't see his expression, but could feel something. A weariness she found most grown-ups had. Anger. Betrayal. Confusion. And… Recognition.

"Do you have dreams like this often?"

She shrugged, a little uncertain of his question. "Dunno; don't think so. Sometimes I see things… Before they happen I mean, but… It doesn't matter."

She heard him laugh a little. It was a quiet, almost cynical laugh. She shied away from the sound, lifting her head up in puzzlement. "I had nightmares all the time when I was your age… I guess I should've seen this coming."

She blinked, remembering the cold and darkness she had felt earlier. Shuddering, she huddled in her cloak, shaking her head to herself. "I think I'm done with this Force stuff, if that's what this is."

Vader stared at her for a long time, and she quickly averted her gaze. "It's not something you can run from. It's a part of who you are."

"What if I don't want it to be?" She challenged. "I've done fine without it!"

"What exactly have you been doing without it anyway? There's no records on you, nothing. Even medical; nothing. Who are you?"

"Nobody," she retorted, glowering. "I'm nobody… Just a street kid. You actually expected results on a kid with no home, no known family? No offense. As for what I do; that's none of your business."

"You're my daughter, it is my business," he growled.

She scoffed. "No, I'm not. You said so yourself; my father is Anakin Skywalker. Last I checked, that isn't your name. And since I might as well ask now, where the kriff are we? I know we're not on your ship."

"That name… Has no more meaning to me, you're right. We are on the Death Star. I expect you to be on your best behavior and not cause any problems while we are here. I had a hard enough time explaining to Governor Tarkin why I brought you."

Avigail huffed in irritation. At least she was right about something; it seemed impossible to win an argument with him. Trust the Empire to call a place the 'The Death Star'. "What is it?"

"A space station."

"Sounds great."