Welcome to my first attempt of doing an Au collection of oneshots. Prepare to laugh, cry, cringe, and possibly try to kill your favorite character for doing something stupid (most likely a Kanan and Ezra bonding moment gone wrong, or a fail at Ezra trying to impress Sabine). All short stories are unrelated unless there is more than one part.

Warning: Chapters will vary in rating.

Summary: Going against his birthright, Prince Ezra of the Galactic Empire is now a rebel retaliating against his uncle's teachings. He forms a rebel cell and plans to destroy the Emperor as well as restore the Republic. Will Ezra be able to rid the universe of pain and suffering, or will he give in to the darkness that pumps through his veins?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Star Wars Rebels related.

Important- This is an AU so expect to see plot, and geography changes to fit each story.

Fugitive- part one

The moment Ezra broke through the gates of the palace's border surrounding the elaborate building, he began to have second thoughts. He had known that this was dangerous. He knew that his actions would cause chaos. He knew that this might result in a few of his nosy, tattle tale servants to loose their lives since they had no idea he was planning to run away and start a rebellion. But most of all, he knew that he was blatantly stupid for going against his uncle, the Emperor, who was also the most powerful and dominate Sith Lord.

So yeah. He was having second thoughts.

The Force had warned him about the risks. He had pondered, and cunningly plotted how he was going to execute his genius/reckless plan. The only thing he couldn't quite decide on was if he were crazy or just plain dumb.

Ezra bet it was both.

His footsteps pounded hard against the concrete, as he ran quickly towards Corescanst's city limits. He could feel his heart beat frantically in his rib cage, the adrenaline willing his feet to go faster and for his numbed legs to carry him. His breaths came out labored, and the saliva in his mouth thickened almost making him choke when he swallowed. Fire, oh how much it felt like fire, burned his lungs. Exhaustion begged for him to stop, but he had to keep going without any hesitations, no matter how tired he became.

He was on a deadline.

Prince Ezra made a sharp turn to the right, the city's lights and sounds becoming clearer. Already he could see skyscrapers and cars floating amiss. Only a half of a mile separated him from his purpose.

Time was running out though. When he had knocked out the Royal Imperial Guards, who patrolled the palace grounds, he knew that the effect was not going to last long. With the years of training and studying under his uncle, Ezra had always been weaker when it came to the durability of his powers.

Ezra's head whipped to the side, as his uncle's hand connected to the side of his face faster than a ship going through hyperspace.

They were doing sith training and had been so for the past two hours. There were no brakes, no breathers, and no hesitance. Ezra felt as if he were going to pass out, and his head hurt from the constant mental strain of using his abilities.

Him and his uncle were working on his force choke, and timing how long he could knock out his opponent. So far, the longest time has been five minutes, which is pretty darn good in Ezra's opinion, but the Emperor demanded more. A lot more.

"You have so much potential. So much power. And so much darkness running through your veins, and yet you diminish your power with the lack of strength you have inherited from the weak nephew of mine, Ephraim!" The Emperor seethe in fury, wrapping a hand around a lock of blue hair. "Tell me boy, how can one so powerful be so pathetic at the same time?" His amber eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can be such a disappointment sometimes."

"I'm doing the best I can", Ezra gritted out; his hair pulling at the roots. He hated it when he had to train with his uncle. All the man did was fuss and correct him during their technique lessons. The sith lord demanded perfection from his heir, and Ezra honestly did everything he could to please his uncle.

But nothing pleased the old man.

The Emperor sneered. "Doing your best doesn't always mean that you'll succeed."

Ezra narrowed his eyes. "It gets me closer."

"And yet you fail."

"But if I keep trying..."

"If you always try boy, then it means that you don't truly believe that you'll succeed." He tightened his grip, and a wave of satisfaction swept over him as his nephew sucked in a sharp breath. "Instead of attempting to master this skill, you should do."

Ezra's breathing hitched; his hands flying up in a futile attempt to pry the old geasure's hands off of him. He immediately regretted it when the action only managed to pull his hair even more.

"It doesn't work that way." Ezra could feel the dangerous waves flowing from his uncle.

"Yes it will."

"And how exactly?"

"Because I told you to!"

Ezra averted his gaze as he bit his lip to contain the snarky comment that threatened to escape his mouth. He knew the boundaries and the limits his uncle had set up for him prevented him from speaking out of tone. The Emperor had a short temper, and despite the many times Ezra wished it wasn't true, they were unfortunately very alike.

The Emperor shook his head in disgust and took a step back, releasing the blue locks in the process. He turned his attention to the Twi'lek slave who kneeled crouched on the floor quivering.

"Again", he barked the command! "And this time leave the little piece of fodder asleep for more than five minutes."

Ezra noticed the Twi'lek child suck in a sharp breath and let out a small cry. To be honest, Ezra didn't feel pity for the slave. The child was nothing but an object, a piece of training equipment to be used to test out his abilities. All Twi'leks were beneath him. They didn't deserve to have any rights, for their existence was irrelevant. The only reason they were still alive was to keep imperial loyalists' beds warm, and to work in factories or become servants/maids. He didn't have any sympathy nor patience for their weakness.

But now... now he felt like one. A person born to be forced to do something just because of a birthright and who you were.

Ezra's hands clenched into fists, as he mentally cussed out his uncle. He hoped the old geaser couldn't sense his bitter thoughts. Ezra was growing tired of the constant bickering, straineus training exercises, and the seemingly impossible task of becoming the next all mighty and powerful sith lord.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" The Emperor's eyes flashed with a dangerous golden light. "I said do it again."

Ezra examined the slave's attire. The green Twi'lek wore a dirty born long tunic that reached his knees. It was torn and fringed at the bottom, and there was a rip at his lift shoulder. The brown capree had holes in them, which reveled the burnt flesh from beneath. The wounds were large and bubbled up. They seemed to glow an angry pink, and one of them oozed out a grotesque blue-yellow goo. It was most definitely infected.

"Are you disobeying me, child?"

Ezra ignored him. He was too busy examining the frightened slave. Powerful emotions crashed into him, like waves beating against a sandy shore. There was a mixture of fear, sadness, and emptiness emitting from the young child. The soul, black as night, appeared to be nothing but a void of shear hopelessness. The Force told Ezra that the boy once fought back, but was destroyed rather quickly.

Taking a step forward, the prince nearly cringed as the slave let out a strangled cry.

That's when fiery pain blossomed in his chest. The Force fed off of the Twi'lek's pain. The Force relished it. Beckoned it. Thrived with it. The rush of power was exhilarating! The boy's pain satisfied his hunger and it felt... it felt... wrong...

It felt so wrong.

And cold.

Ezra stopped mid-step in his stride. Never had he felt like this. He shouldn't be feeling any remorse for a Twi'lek. They were nothing but property...

Right?

With his mind swarming with conflicted thoughts, Ezra extended his arm. He can do this. This wasn't his first time suffocating the boy in a Force choke. Yeah. The slave should be used to blacking out by now.

So, as Ezra shoved down his emotions and shook off his uncle's bone-chilling stare, he began to feel a tingle fizz in the back of his mind.

He cut off the child's wind pipes' air supply.

The Force pulsed.

He could beat his record of leaving his victim unconscious for more than five minutes. Ezra would make his uncle proud. He wouldn't have to worry about the beatings anymore when he failed, and never again would he have to go through another intense lecture. But most of all... the Emperor wouldn't need to throw him away like he did Ezra's father and mother.

His palm opened.

He refused to be weak like his parents.

The tingle intensified. The feeling of another's pain fulled his anger.

He will please his uncle by sacrificing this weak, pathetic boy to prove that he can be as ruthless as the Lord of the Sith.

His golden eyes met the Twi'lek's dull ones. Those lifeless eyes begged for mercy, begged for freedom. But most of all... they begged for death.

Sorrow flushed over the Force in an overwhelming amount. It even made Ezra's knees buckle a little. Then he heard the Emperor's laugh echo across the room. All frustration dissipated from his uncle's demeanor and it was replaced with a demonic glee. 'Kill him', the man silently said. 'Put the dreadful creature out of his misery.'

Not needing anymore persuasion, Ezra closed his palm and clenched it in a fist. A sickening crack followed immediately after, but it did not phase the two sith. Tears burned the backs of Ezra's eyes, but he didn't dare let them fall. Something about the slave's death felt righteous, for before the Twi'lek's demise a wave of gratitude from the child was sent to him in the Force. The kid was actually thankful to be put out of his misery. And somehow, it triggered something in Ezra's mind to save other people from their misery too. But not in this way. Not by killing. Not. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The blare of an alarm knocked Ezra out of his reverie.

The guards must have woken up, which meant that his uncle now knew that he was missing. The special whine of the alarm was loud enough to alert the entire capital city of his disappearance. Each citizen had an alarm code app on their data pad, which was tested each month. In a matter of seconds the whole planet would be notified that their crown prince had taken a missing. Within a few minutes all storm troopers and imperial droids would be on the search. In no more than an hour the Sith Lord would use the Force to locate his presence.

Ezra might as well be blasted, because he has no chance in Mustafar to fully commence his plan. And if he was caught, then he might as well say goodbye to the great outdoors and most likely all life in general. His uncle, unfortunately, wouldn't hesitate to beat him to a pulp, lock him in a high security prison cell, and leave him to rot.

Ezra knew this because the Emperor himself had actually threatened to do it if his heir foolishly betrayed him.

Sprinting over a water pipe that lined the city limits, Ezra's heart felt as if it had leaped into his throat. His nerves skyrocketed with stress. He cursed his uncle for going to extreme lengths to make sure that he stayed "safe". Who in all of the universe had an actual alarm signalling an entire population of their royal's disappearance? Sure it's informative, but still! Ezra didn't and never planned to stay within his uncle's reach. He had cut the leash around his neck four months ago.

So why did it feel tighter than ever?

Reaching into his pants pocket, the prince pulled out a round metal disk. He pushed the button in the center, and a holo map popped up. A route displayed directions, short cuts, and potential escape routes through the city. It stretched for miles upon miles through the industrialized areas straight to a nearby rural community. There, in the farm areas, is where he would hide.

Finally, for what seemed like hours, Ezra made it to the grand wall. Or, at least close to the wall. Storm troopers lined the massive steel wall which ran around the entire capital city. Some troopers were positioned at the open barriers, while others roamed the top catwalks. Towers filled with guards lined the barricade every half mile.

It was a miracle they haven't spotted him yet.

Staying in the shadows, Ezra silently took a few steps forward as he studied their movements.

They were shouting and barking orders at each other, and they practically screamed procedure codes. The guards stationed on the ground hustled back and forth between one another in a frenzy trying to gain control of their new-found mission/situation. The ones on top stayed on alert, but the occasional raise of the hand to touch their helmets made it obvious they were communicating. Ezra could only imagine the chaos brewing in the towers.

Amber eyes scanned the area for a place of concealment. It only took seconds for him to find a bunch of crates clumped together stacked in high piles. Ezra had almost forgotten that today was when the troopers got their monthly shipment of supplies. This made it a lot easier for him to hide until he could devise a plan to get into the city.

So like an animal stalking its prey, Ezra commenced his way towards the crates.

He had always been fond of the storm troopers, for it made it way too easy for him to get away with his daily mischive at the palace. Once, Ezra had filled every helmet with sludge form the bins in the kitchen, and got much pleasure as he hid in the vents watching them stupidity put them on their heads. The poor men were blind in not only sight, but apparently in the nose as well.

It was their aim too that made them pitiful. Seriously, how hard was it to shoot straight? Ezra himself was shooting targets when he was three years old, and by the age of four he was a pro. It made Ezra want to stab them with his crimson lightsabor every time they missed an easy target.

Smirking, the runaway prince let out a short chuckle as his back made contact with a crate. No one had seen him move across the premises, which emphasized how even more sad they were. If Ezra had planned to stay and become the next ruler of the Empire, his first proclamation would be to amend the army's training tactics and improve...well...everything. These people clearly had no idea on how to handle a situation, much less on how to identify a wanted fugitive.

The only thing that made him grateful for the troopers unawareness, was the fact that he was going to escape the royal imperial boundaries in hope of setting a perminet spark of rebellion. And hopefully his spark would catch flame and spread like wildfire.

Settling on his knees, Ezra peeked over the crates eyeing the guards movements even closer. The ones in the tower didn't seem like they were going to emerge anytime soon, so that eliminated one threat to his escape. So far only the top and ground troopers minimized his chances of getting out. But how he was getting out, was still the agonizing question. There was one too many people for him to knock unconscious with the Force, and he couldn't fight them off with his bare hands. Using his lightsabor could work, but then again he didn't plan on killing anymore people ever since he put that poor child to 'sleep'.

So there had to be another way.

Ezra crouched back down and closed his eyes. He had to think. And think fast before the palace guards catch up to him and drag him back to his furious uncle. He could already feel a new addition of lightsabor burns adding to his collection of scars he had littered all over his back. Just because he was the nephew and heir to the Supreme Ruler of an entire galaxy, didn't mean that he was treated with the most care and kindness.

The Emperor had always blamed Ezra's smart mouth on his mother, Mira, and his brashness from his father, Ephraim. Quite frankly, Ezra had always wondered if his parents were stupid. His dad may not have been next in line for the throne, but he had played a major role during the Empire's development by mainly speaking against it. His father had spoken about the alleged wrong doings of the growing new dictatorial uprisings through secret, pirated transmissions.

But the real problems started when Ephraim feel in love with a palace servant, who had apparently been helping him keep the transmissions a secret. Mira, his mother, had been said to be a cunning individual who's beauty betrayed her true nature. There was even a rumor that she was a distant part of a long line of evil power, much like the Emperor's, which was why Mira had been chosen to be the Sith Lord's wife. Of course that backfired quickly, for Ephraim and Mira kept their affair a secret among other things.

So when Ezra was born, his uncle found out about everything and had killed his nephew ,Ephraim, and had only spared Mira long enough to nurse the newborn child. She was instantly killed on his first birthday.

A padding of footsteps broke his train of thought. He really needed to stop daydreaming. It was going to get him killed one day.

Opening his eyes, Ezra looked to his right and immediately snapped it back forward. A storm trooper stood exactly beside him.

'So much for thinking of a plan', his mind thought sarcastically.

Ezra cursed under his breath. If only he could get the bucket head to open the wall for him, he would. . . . .

A demon-like smile crept on his face. He knew exactly what he was going to do. It was risky, and most likely wouldn't work, but it was his best shot.

He would perform Battle Meditation. It would enable him to take control of all of the troopers minds. His uncle had mentioned it once before during a training session, and he had actually took the liberty to do some research on it himself.

Digging into the Force, Ezra let the dark side consume him. Ice coated his veins, and it felt as if a void had formed in his heart. But a surge of power masked the growing emptiness, as it made Ezra feel so alive. A gust of icy wind breezed though the area, and he could sense the trooper shivering. The darkness was overwhelming, but he knew it wasn't enough. He had to dig deeper.

Clenching his teeth, Ezra willed himself to be swallowed up in the abyss. The air was close to being unbearable, due to the frigidness. In the background he could hear the guards complain about the sudden temperature drop. Ezra balled his hands into fists, the deep concentration becoming painful.

"I can do this", he told himself. "I can do this."

He sucked in a gasp, as a sharp tingle shot up his spine. Why did this have to hurt so much?

Crawling around the crate, Ezra examined his surroundings. All troopers were standing deathly still and not one moved an inch. There was only one way to find out if his attempt at Battle Meditation had worked.

Standing up, the prince took a shaky breath. "Raise your left arm."

Nothing happened. Not even after he waited a full solid minute. A rush of panic hit him straight in the gut. What if it didn't work, and he had just given away his location for nothing? What if... What if... why aren't they moving yet?

Ezra eyed them warily. Perhaps it wasn't a complete failure. Maybe he hadn't spoken clearly? Yeah. That had to be it.

Straightening his posture, Ezra stood tall and proud. "Raise your left arm."

And it worked!

Every single storm trooper extended their arm upwards. He could even sense the ones in the towers doing the same.

He did it!

He actually did Battle Meditation!

It made Ezra want to do a victory dance, but he knew he couldn't. Not right now at least.

Walking up to one of the troopers, Ezra commanded him to open the gates. The trooper instantly agreed and Ezra watched in astonishment as everything played out perfectly. He even laughed in pure joy as the wall opened wide just for him.

"Is there anything else you require our assistance for", a different guard asked him?

"Yes." Ezra nodded. He reached into the Force once more. "I need you all to forget everything that has happened in the past hour. Understand?"

"We will forget everything that has happened in the past hour", they all repeated in sync. "We understand."

Squealing on the inside at his success, Ezra made his way past the wall.

It was time for him to start a rebellion.

Please review, comment, and suggest any ideas that you think would make an awesome story.

Also tell me what you reaction/ opinion was to Star Wars Rebels Season two episode Legacy. To me it was the best episode so far in the whole series and also the most heart- felt. The ending, though, was the most unexpected, for I thought that Ezra's parents were still alive in a heavily guarded prison. I was not expecting them to be dead, and I was not ready for Ezra to start crying. And the sad music that they played really intensified the emotion (which was a nice touch), and I have to be honest that I had shed a few tears during that scene.

It is the best episode ever!

~Debra101