Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction, so sorry if some things are off or anything. This was pre-written during Star Wars: Rebels season one but I did update some things, but some facts may be off due to the fact it was pre-written back then. Hope (note the 'hope') you guys enjoy!

The Inquisitor stood in the bridge of his Star Destroyer, Manipulator. They were hovering above the brown, blue and white planet of Lothal. A vast void of blackness dotted with a couple of stars surrounded the planet. The scenery was… plain. But the Inquisitor was not interested in the scenery. He never was. Instead, his thoughts were on a certain Force-sensitive boy.

Ezra Bridger.

He felt his lips twitch into a small, cruel smile. That boy intrigued him. A rather powerful Padawan, considering the fact that he started training at such a late age, far beyond the usual Jedi acceptance age. He had always toyed with the thought of Bridger being his. He may be a powerful tool, mused the Inquisitor, deep in thought.

To find a talented, Force-sensitive boy was rare. With the correct amount of… persuasion, he could become useful 'Brother' to the band of Inquisitors*. Of course, the Inquisitor had no intention of giving up his place of being the Grand Inquisitor, but having another Inquisitor, talented and skilled, loyal only to him and have absolute no intention of backstabbing would be useful.

But for now, the Inquisitor was content waiting for his prey to come to him.

"Take that bucket heads!" Sabine yelled joyously, firing shot after shot at the incoming Stormtroopers. She had already set off two of her 'miracles', each one more beautiful than the last. Kanan and Ezra deflected shot after shot while Zeb bashed 'bucket-heads' together with no obvious effort, chuckling with wild joy. At least they had managed to nab the crates with desperately needed supplies before the Stormtroopers had managed to sound the alarm and give chase. Kanan slipped around and hid behind a supply crate, trusting Ezra to cover his back. He activated his com-link.

"Spectre One to Spectre Two. We managed to get the crates but you have to come pick them up quickly as we're a bit... er, busy at the moment. "

"Copy that Spectre One. On my way."

Then Kanan re-entered the fray, the number of Stormtroopers was decreasing drastically. After all, it was just a small supply base on Lothal with only a few dozen Stormtroopers stationed there. Ezra's navy hair swung to and fro, lightsaber flashing and yelled over the din to Kanan;

"Is Hera nearly here yet?"

"She's on her way." Shouted Kanan. Hopefully, he thought to himself. Sure, they most definitely would win, but the quicker this ended, the better.

The hum of the engines of Ghost answered his prayers. Expertly, Hera landed Ghost softly upon the plains of Lothal and the ramp lowered, Hera jumping off as quickly as possible, shooting at any Stormtrooper that fired back. Chopper came groaning out, and she and Chopper combined pushed the crates aboard Ghost.

"About time too!" yelled Kanan.

Suddenly, Ezra gave a loud gasp beside him. Kanan looked at him in alarm and fear, and saw that he was rigid, as if something was hurting him.

"Ezra?" cried Kanan, concerned, and dragged him behind one of the remaining crates. Ezra fell limp in his arms, and gently Kanan shook him. He didn't respond, adding to his fear and panic. His eyes were closed. Desperately, he fumbled for a pulse, and breathed a tiny sigh of relief when he felt one. He still didn't understand what was going on, because as far as he could see he had suffered no wounds and his concern grew.

"Ezra!" He cried.

Hera spotted Kanan holding an unconscious Ezra, and asked Kanan a question he didn't manage to hear. He shrugged helplessly, then made a decision to carry Ezra onto Ghost. With Sabine and Zeb seemingly not knowing what was going on, Kanan quickly entered Ghost, deflecting any bolts that came his way, determined not to let anything befall upon the boy.

Ezra deflected bolt after bolt, Kanan at his side, Sabine blasting and setting off 'miracles' every now and then, and in Zeb's case, bashing, Stormtroopers to oblivion. Suddenly, he felt a cold, dark, almost inhumane consciousness touch him. He recoiled and tried to bring up his mental shields but the thing took him by surprise, and it was very, very strong. It seized hold of him, taking advantage of his un-preparedness and started reaching into the darkest recess of his mind. He felt himself let go of a gasp at the pain and grew rigid, the scene in front of him blurring and spinning around and suddenly feeling arms holding him, and the tendrils grew stronger, pushing, forcing itself in. The… the pain…. He could barely think. His eyes rolled up into his head. He had lost all feelings in body, and he could no longer feel the arms that were holding him. The only thing still active was his brain, and it was going through a very rough time with the thing forcing itself in, taking root.

The intruder of his mind didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, only heading for its one goal: to control. To dig out all the secrets Ezra had. To take root. Memories and emotions flashed by, but the intruder took no notice. It almost seemed as if he was eager to get this over and done with. Ezra was defenseless against the outsider, and for a moment hopelessness flared until it faded away due to the fact that the intruder was still attacking his mind, messing up everything inside it.

The tendrils finally reached the very bottom of his mind, but Ezra didn't especially care. The intruder had also messed up his body control, and his body was twitching uncontrollably. The pain was so great he felt like his head was going to explode from the outsider, who was now trying to morph itself with Ezra very different mind. It was like the intruder wanted to become Ezra, although the two beings were very, very different.

Then there was the battle of wills.

The intruder wanted Ezra's consciousness to simply curl up and sleep… for a while. Ezra refused. This is my mind…. But that sentence, which was supposed to be strong and determined, came out weak and feeble. His mind was weak from the savage attack. Easily, the intruder pressed Ezra into a small ball, enveloping him in his dark, cruel essence.

The pain was too great. He could feel his consciousness slowly floating away, escaping the essence. Am… am I dying? He thought numbly, but that thought faded away just as quickly as it had come, leaving no traces of panic or despair. As he floated, he felt the pain slowly melt away. But… some part of him stuck inside his body stubbornly. Ezra had always been a stubborn, determined person, unwilling to give up easily. Street instincts.

But for once, he wished he wasn't this stubborn.

Suddenly, just as suddenly as it had come, it stopped. Ezra sagged with relief, his consciousness (unknown to him) curled up inside the intruder and went into a sort of trance to rest and heal his ravaged mind.

As Ezra's consciousness slowly faded away, curled underneath the essence, carefully, the intruder wiped away all memories of being attacked from Ezra, and replaced them with fake memories of fainting from a high fever. Since it was now in control, the body responded to whatever the outsider wanted. And the outsider wanted Ezra to be fooled. Wanted the whole Ghost crew to be fooled.

You're now mine…

*I think it's called Inquisitorius?

So thanks guys for reading, any feedback welcome!