A/N: Ahh, so this is where the Star Wars crossover comes in. Well, the Jedi anyway… Enter Obi-Wan Kenobi! (wow, that sounds far more sordid than I meant it to… ahh wishful thinking)

Time Deluxe:
Cheers for the review mate )

Mpvssj5: Thanks, the pace really picks up after this chapter. We're just setting the scene first. Goku was killed on Chikyuu along with many of the Z Warriors. Vegeta's still alive and King of new/neo Vegeta-sei. As for the other Z Warriors, you'll just have to read to find out!xx

Duel of Fates
The Emerald Eye

An adapted epic brought to you by
Starkiller - Caith - Karete - Speed - Jujain - Theminiarkana

Edited by
Karete & Starkiller

King Kold stared impassively as the Imperial guards chained the last Rebel to the wall. He would have put them on his own ship, but he had other business to attend to. Frieza was currently negotiating through some snarls with the people of Planet Galacia in the Gelb system. Kold sneered at his eldest son. It appeared Cooler's ship was his only option. The Prince had his usual emotionless mask in place. That face irritated him; had always done. Too like his mother, Kold sneered.

"It disappoints me to find our esteemed General Zarbon amongst this ragtag group; though I can't say I'm surprised to discover two Ginyu turncoats in their midst. I never could understand why my son put so much faith in you pirates," Kold muttered carelessly to the toad-like Bas-jin beside him, another Ginyu Elite known as Guldo. "When they wake up, interrogate them. Then do what you like with them," Kold ordered casually and waved a hand in the air. His wicked smile grew as he looked upon the wolfish girl with the silver hair. "I must say that one is pretty for a Rebel." Kold turned in time to see a brief look of disgust flash across Cooler's face. Automatically, his tail lashed out to strike him across the cheek. "Something to say boy?"

Cooler didn't flinch. His burning red eyes gazed directly into his Kold's. "Apologies father. I was under the impression you only watched other soldiers rape our prisoners. I never realised you quite had the gumption to perform the task yourself." Cooler knew he'd made a foolish mistake, but he was too angry to care. Almost immediately he found himself kneeling on the floor with his father's tail wrapped around his neck, squeezing the blood to his face.

"Son... forgiving father that I am, I have pardoned you many disgraces," Kold whispered fiercely. "However, unless you apologise I may lose grip of my exceptional patience..."

Cooler grabbed the appendage coiled around his throat, but it was no use. He cursed himself and wheezed an apology. "Sorry..."

Evidently satisfied, Kold released his tail and allowed his son to drop to the floor with a thump. "Apology accepted," he said and swiftly left the room.

Cooler slowly got to his feet, dizzy from the lack of oxygen. After a minute he became aware of the bemused gaze of the Bas-jin beside him.

"Are you alright, sir?" Guldo asked. Cooler gave a short nod of his head. "Then... why would you stick up for a rebel?"

Cooler's mouth fell open in surprise, at a loss. How could he explain to a Ginyu, no a pirate, that his ideals and the ideals of his father and brother could not be further apart. But there was no other place in a Galaxy that didn't loathe his kind with a passion. And why shouldn't they? His gaze studied the motionless bodies of the rebels. Sharply, the Prince turned to leave the holding cells.

"You heard what he said," Cooler ordered over his shoulder. "Interrogate the prisoners once they awaken. But if I find one hand has been placed on that girl, so help you."


The pounding in his head wouldn't stop, he felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and about to fall. He thought about opening his eyes and tried to, but it only made the pounding worse.

What the hell happened? One minute they had been discussing the move to another safe hold, the next everything had gone black. Zarbon sighed. It served him right for drinking so much of the potent amber liquid. Damn Frieza for destroying Chikyuu! He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Or, he would have if his arm hadn't come to a screeching halt because of something wrapped around his wrist. His eyes shot open and he was assaulted with blinding pain as the light filtered in through disused irises. He blinked his golden eyes rapidly; cursing as he did so, until the pain faded and the room swam into focus.

Zarbon wasn't one to scare easily in anything but Frieza's presence, but the sight that met him drained the colour from his face. Funnily enough he suddenly hoped no one put a mirror in front of him at that moment because he really didn't want to know what he looked like.

He turned his head. The others were chained to the wall beside him, still out. Oh gods. Who the hell has done this? Frieza's men? Or was it Kold's Sages? He didn't recognise the interior of this particular ship.

Futilely, he pulled at the chain around his wrist. It sent an electric shock into him and he grunted and winced as the pain shot up his arm. Someone sighed loudly. He turned to look at his companions. Not one of them was moving. His eyes travelled along the line, stopping at Caithion. Zarbon glared. He didn't altogether trust the big Saiya-jin and not because of his race, although in other circumstances it would have been enough. He was fairly sure that the man had moved slightly from the last time he looked.

Zarbon slumped back against the wall. What the hell were they going to do now?

Burter opened an eye, catching sight of Zarbon. It took everything he had just to nudge him with his foot. "Hey, Zarbon," he whispered.

Zarbon sluggishly turned his head.

"Listen, you're never going to believe this but we're on Cooler's ship," Burter said. "And old four eyes is our guard. I heard them just when I was coming-to."

Zarbon remained silent.

Burter continued, attempting to keep his voice no more than a whisper – a hard task when you normally spoke in a deep baritone. "Ginyu's always said Cooler's a bit soft in the head, but from what I gathered he's no fan of the Empire... or at least how his father conducts his business."

Zarbon raised his eyebrows. "What exactly did you hear?"

Burter repeated what he could of the confrontation, which had transpired between King Kold and the Prince.

"Which means?" Zarbon asked finally, a sceptical brow raised.

"Which means we might be in with a chance of convincing Cooler to let us go."

The very idea was farfetched, if not ludicrous. Zarbon looked unimpressed, but before he could reply the others began to wake up. Moans of, 'Oh my head...' and, 'What in stars happened', rose for a few minutes then were silenced as they began to realise where they were.

Burter spoke again. "Hey guys I think the situation just got interesting." Once more, the Saurian proceeded to repeat everything he had heard and seen from his partly conscious state. The others only looked at him. The situation had definitely changed. They were all wondering the same thing; could they use this to get onside a most powerful ally and obtain a ship in the process? How could they use this information? They began to whisper together, forming a plan and to wait for the 'talk' with Cooler to begin.


Lord Frieza paced the long and towering halls of the Imperial Palace of Icion, the arctic homeworld of the Ice-jin race. Though technically under rule of the eminent King Kold, Icion's citizens were far more afraid of Frieza rather than they were of the ruling King.

A small smile slithered onto Frieza's thin lips. Luckily for him, his father lacked the mental capacity to realise that it was he who held any real political sway in Icion's courts. On what was once planet Namek, now a vast dark plain in the Galaxy; its people slaves to the lords and ladies of the Ice-jin courts, the ancient dragon Porunga had granted Frieza his wish. He was immortal. Now not even the Prophecy of the Super Saiyan could lay a finger on him. He had practically become a God.

Still, the flame of the Rebellion had to be snuffed out before it could catch. Frieza wanted the fear and respect of his people; the same fear and respect one would show a God. He could not allow even the smallest revolt to go unpunished. The people of Galacia had been displeased with the way the Empire had taken hold of their trade franchising. Frieza had settled the argument with swift severity. They had learned their lesson.

As he continued to pace the long corridors, a glint of gold caught the corner of his eye. He turned to face an ornate golden casket centred in the Palace's main view port. The magnificent view encompassed the grand Capital City of Arcadia, its elaborate buildings twisting and soaring into the sky like great ivory tusks, window panes sparkling like diamonds in the bright afternoon sun. But the Ice-jin Lord was too enamoured with the seven golden spheres of Namek to care.

Frieza pressed a finger against the smooth, glassy surface of the seventh sphere and furrowed his brow, his gaze lost in its amber midst. It was no secret that Frieza had become obsessed with the magical force trapped within the Namekian Dragonballs. Truth be told, it was the only power that still frightened him. It was a power that only a very few could muster, and fewer still could wield. Vanity of the Kold's Seven Sages was amongst those few, but now there was the troubling matter of the Eastern magicians aiding the Rebellion. In his fairer years, Frieza had heard tales from ageing space-pirates of an entire Order of Sorcerers who had ventured out of the Wild Space in the East. Then, roughly eight years ago – before the Planet Exchange Corporation had formed an Empire – rumours of the mysterious robed magicians remerged.

Jedi, he had heard them called. "Yes, that was it…" he muttered to himself. "...Jedi."

"Jedi, Sire?" Dodoria enquired from behind.

Frieza turned to face him, scowling. "It's rude to intrude on one's personal thoughts, Dodoria."

"Yes S-sir. S-sorry S-sir," the General replied, straightening his back but keeping his beady pink eyes trained firmly on the ground. Frieza turned his back to the large man quaking in his boots.

General Dodoria looked suddenly uncomfortable, desperate to speak but too afraid in case it meant an early retirement. "Er... Master Frieza?"

"What is it General?" Frieza hissed. "And I demand that you cease that intolerable stuttering!"

"Well Sir... I have heard of the Jedi M'Lord." He swallowed nervously. "They're from the Eastern Quadrant - or so the tales go. Supposedly, they're wise warriors who worship a great magic called the Force. Sounds a bit like a cult to me, but if it's true they might come in handy,"

Frieza's tail slammed into the floor. "Religious cults and fancy magic tricks have no place in my Empire, General. And thanks to Kold's Sages the heart of the Rebellion has been trampled. I need no allies. Now leave."

"Yes Master."

"Oh, and Dodoria?" Frieza said, his tone deceptively soft.

"Y-yes, Master?" Dodoria fumbled.

"You are to take a team to the Moon of old Vegeta-sei. I want the Temple there cleared," Frieza ordered sternly. "Do not return until you have a detailed analysis of your findings. Do I make myself clear?"

The obese General's skin flushed a deeper shade of pink and he swallowed nervously. "O-of course, Master Frieza. You can rely on my success."

Frieza smiled wickedly. "I do hope so." Returning to the Dragonballs glowing with liquid fire, the tyrant felt a burning blaze of anticipation ignite up within him. He needed to understand this new power. Unlocking the secrets within the Golden Spheres of Namek would pave the way to true divinity.


'Wake up.'

The soft whisper in the back of his head made Caithion sit up immediately, hand going for the small hidden pocket in his leather pants. He pulled out the thin, silvery cigar-shaped object, clenching it as one would a favourite toy. He glanced over - everyone else was slowly coming too. They were in some sort of chamber. Burter and Zarbon were talking in hushed voices, and Saku was rubbing her head, swearing.

He closed his eyes and turned - to be greeted with a rather nasty electrical shock, which made his tail, stand on end. He growled low, and slowly moved to face the shadows.

They danced to him. They flickered, small forms. Because each shadow was a form...a form of nothing yet something. That was what he had been taught. Aware that his purple eyes were glowing, he glared into the shadow and saw, for a split second, two men.

One he knew well, Frieza the 'frozen shadow' who had destroyed everything he held dear. The other...?

He walked down the streets of an unknown city, dressed in a brown cloak, hands tucked in front of him. He turned, and then looked up, as though he could feel the eyes watching him. For an instant, blue green met vibrant purple, and they stared at one another. Suddenly the man bowed.

My name is Obi-Wan.

And then there was nothing. He fell back, panting. He hadn't tried to scry in a long time, and was obviously out of practice. Instead, he reached out with the Saiyan instinct and detected several, on the edge of his senses. Two he knew well his Prince, Trunks, and his King, Vegeta. The other was blurry...very blurry... but he thought of a very small girl...

He shook his head once more and glanced at Zarbon, who had carefully called the attention of everyone else in the room. It looked like the meeting was about to begin again.


Cooler woke up to a timid shaking.

"What is it Neiz?" he asked somewhat grumpily, barely bothering to open his eyes.

Neiz was one of the newest recruits and he was still very nervous. "Please forgive the interruption my Lord but the captives are coming-to."

Now Cooler opened his eyes. "I'll be down there in ten minutes," he said.

Neiz stood there and whispered, "May I ask you something, my Lord?"

Cooler looked at him a moment and nodded. "Proceed," he said simply.

Neiz cleared his throat. "If you are able to defeat the captives and the Rebels are chained up, why did your father turn on the electric shock cuffs?"

Cooler's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed. "Because my father is a sadist, Neiz." Shock cuffs were illegal in most parts of the Galaxy. Even Cooler refrained from using them. He got up and walked to his chamber's wide view port. He knew that Neiz was still there, waiting to be dismissed. "Have the control room shut down the electric cuffs, but don't unchain them," he lowered his voice. "Not yet. Dismissed."

Neiz hurried from the room to follow his instructions.


When the sudden shock didn't come as he pulled heavily on the shackles in frustration, Zarbon smirked. His golden eyes narrowed and he pulled the chain forcefully from the wall, bringing part of the fibro-plastic walling with it.

When the others realised what this meant, they did the same.

Stretching limbs and rubbing sore spots from where they had fallen in the bar and hustled aboard the ship, the small group of rebels huddled together in the centre of the room.

"If what Burter says is true," Zarbon began, finally able to pinch the bridge of his nose to clear his head, "then we have a very powerful unexpected ally. Unfortunately I am disinclined to trust the information, seeing as he was only half awake."

The large Saurian shot him a look. "It's better to go on than a big fat nothing."

Jeice cocked his head to the side. "Someone likes us mate. We're not strung up like popcorn anymore."

Zarbon shook his head. "They also know we have no way off this ship on our own."

"Hey, yer fergettin' that were not all as weak as you," Jeice growled taking a step forward.

Zarbon glared at the red skinned man. "But I am not forgetting that we are on a ship surrounded by enemies, not to mention King Kold and Cooler." He held up hand to stop Burter's protest. "And yes, I will consider Cooler a threat until I am given good reason to think otherwise." The others nodded their silent agreement. "Good. Now, who has heard of Jedi?"

Jeice tossed his head up and snorted indignantly. "Jedi? What're we doin' here Zarbon? Swappin' fairytales?"

Zarbon gave him a dry stare but kept his silence.

"Sit down you knucklehead," Saku ordered, catching Jeice by the seat of his pants and pulling him down to the cell floor. Fairly putout, the youthful, red-skinned pirate crossed his arms and legs and sat brooding beside his counterpart.

Sakumei Ookami, however, sat attentively; her canine ears pinned back in anticipation and geared for action. She grinned broadly, exposing a pair of finely pointed fangs at their aqua-skinned leader. "You've got Jedi in mind, ay? Pretty powerful from what I hear – that is, if they exist."

The Rebellion turned in a wave to focus on her. Pleased that she had their undivided attention, Saku casually leaned back against the hard metallic wall of their less than luxurious chambers, crossing her arms behind her silver head as she did so.

She fixed them with a steady gaze and began. "When I worked alongside Ma Piccolo spying on the Empire's trade routes, we came across a few interestin' characters. Space nomads for the most part. Unfortunately I ahh missed the conversation with them due to important business."

"You mean drinking business," Burter put in, unimpressed.

Saku grinned shamelessly and continued. "But what Piccolo told me of his encounter with them was pretty remarkable. They talked of the Eastern Quadrant in great length and detail – and of the Jedi. 'ccording to them the Eastern Quadrant is a thriving civilisation with its own Galactic Republic and Senate. From the sounds of it the Jedi are a powerful group of Sorcerers working for this Senate."

Burter's expression changed from one of curiosity to that of deep concern. "If that's true then Frieza can't know. If he did he'd be on them before you could charge a ki zipper. And we'd be finished." His deep, raspy voice rattled throughout the chambers.

"Don't count your chickens yet, big blue. Rumour has it some of these Jedi were on Chikyuu before… you know…"

Everyone exchanged a look and a silence spread throughout the small, dimly lit room.

"Ah think yeh've all lost yer bloody marbles!" Jeice scoffed. "Ah mean, c'mon? An entire new Galaxy full of 'magical Sorcerers? We're talkin' myths and legends here! I fer one ain't gonna listen to another word of it until yeh give me some hard facts and not some ol' hullalbaloo from a bunch of crazy space wrinklies!"

Sakumei grinned and winked at Zarbon. "Much as I hate to admit it, I gotta agree with him. My sources aren't solid. Those nomads told a good story, but where's the proof?"

Caithion, who had been silent until now, threading the long silver object in and out through his fingers, at last rose to meet the golden gaze of the aqua-skinned Rashia-jin. "When did you make contact with them?"

Stunned, everyone turned their attention back to Zarbon who remained silent.

"Ye called in favours?" Jeice had always called them as he saw them, and he was usually right.

Hesitantly, Zarbon shook his head. He didn't want to give too much of Bulma's scheme away. He had promised her. "Not exactly. I... came into contact with one once. We talked for a bit over a drink and he left."

"Well, how do you know he was a Jedi?" asked Burter, raising one bumpy brow suspiciously.

Zarbon glanced at him. "He was a simple human. Last I knew, Humans couldn't lift objects just by glancing at them."

"His name was Obi-Wan," Caithion stated.

The group turned as one to look at the odd Saiyan. Caithion stared bleakly back at them. "You didn't talk to him once, Zarbon: you talked to him multiple times. And his name is Obi-Wan. Care to come clean?"

Saku stared incredulously at him. "How in stars do you know that?"

At the same time Zarbon asked. "How do you know his name?"

Caithion shook his head. "That's irrelevant. What is relevant however is the truth." The Saiyan's dark eyes narrowed. "Come on Zarbon, what is it you're holding from us?"


Next Chapter: The Rebels are chained up in the bowels of Cooler's warship – will the Ice-jin Prince defect the throne and aid the Rebellion? And how much information is Zarbon holding back from the other Rebels? Find out soon (p.s. PLEASE REVIEW!)