You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.
-Christopher Nolan and Jonathan Nolan
Prologue
Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, war began. Earth, for many a millennia, had been a refugee haven. People from all worlds and galaxies, all races and groups, and people who spoke all tongues took refuge on Earth, seeing as it was one of the most protected planets in the galaxy.
Earth's atmosphere has just the right air mixture to support all species, which therefore made it a no war zone. The wars from many of the inhabitants of Earth is a completely different matter entirely. That included the world and civil wars, not to mention the rebellions and revolutions. But those were easily overlooked.
Earth's problems were only a small problem when it came to...well...everywhere else. Almost all of space was at war, with different planets and people taking sides. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Earth did not have the technological advances to make it so far into space, so if their enemies wanted to fight, it had to be done on Earth's turf. The only time, spacecraft was on Earth was for the dropping off of refugees and then taking off to retrieve more.
That's not to say Earth was far behind. Medicine, and electronics were up to speed. They just couldn't seem to reach the stars. Not that they truly wanted to. Not even Russia during the Cold War had reached it. They placed the project aside when their new assignment was not to reach space, but let space seek for shelter there.
Language barriers were some of the first hurdles that needed to be overcome. Scientists spent many of the early years of the war developing a language interpreter that was cheap to make and easy to use.
Now it was just a matter of separating everyone. The Clawdikes couldn't be next to the Kensile. And the Dotmeins were just a bad match for both the Nunquam and Titlandus. But that was quickly fixed with the sorters, and the lawmen.
The law men tried to be kind, most of the time. Racism was still heavily present and was probably (probabably) the most difficult thing to solve.
Sherlock Holmes was regretfully one among them. He really did try his best, but when it was usually other species rather than humans getting in trouble, it was so easy to slip. Not that Sherlock was exactly a fan of humans wither. He didn't particularly like anything that would argue with him. Which was pretty much everyone.
Today, Detective Inspector Lestrade was getting on his nerves. Not only from his words, but Sherlock put to thought how old he actually was. He had to be nearly fifty, with his greying hair, but his blue eyes just had so much life to them. Normally, most wouldn't care, but Sherlock wasn't most.
Finally, Sherlock had to know. "How old are you?"
Lestrade stopped mid sentence and stared at the detective. Dr. John Watson rolled his eyes a hand to his head. "If you really must know, 42. Now-"
"Can't be," Sherlock interrupted, fluttering his hand. " Your hair."
"What about my hair?"
"It's grey."
"So is mine, Sherlock," John pointed out. "Greying hair doesn't decide a man's age."
"Your hair's speckled grey because of the stresses of war on you," Sherlock said, turning back to Lestrade. "What stress have you had exactly?"
There were screams and all around people began running, like ants when you step on them. then the three men turned to the sky, where many were glancing back, horrified. Through the darkened clouds came a speeding bullet. A large spacecraft both engines on fire. Sherlock watched curiously as it made contact with Earth's surface. John clutched to him for balance as the ground trembled with the force near that of an 8.5 earthquake.
All three of them feel to the ground in the full forcing rumble, shrieking metal and shattering class thundering down around them. When the movement had ceased, Sherlock sat up, not bothering to pat the dust from his once black clothing,. He jumped to his feet to see their surroundings better.
400 square miles of housing had collapsed to the ground – they were pulling an elderly woman out of the rubble. Down in the city, many, many, many buildings had collapsed. There's a cloud of dust over most of the rest of the city, making it impossible to see what it looked like. There were people running, crying, screaming, people trying to dig out other people from the rubble. Sherlock knew that hundreds of casualties would be a serious understatement. The clouds held pink, purple and orange glows from the fire that seemed to hang frozen in the air. Suspended in time.
"Come John," the detective ushered, beginning down the debris covered street. He climbed over a car, the thought that either John or Lestrade could be hurt not even crossing his mind.
John shakily stood, and helped the D.I. up, before racing after Sherlock.
That crash changed the history of the universe as we knew it. The ship that had crashed had been on a set course for Earth, laden with all manner of weapons. Explosives, designed to go off the moment the ship entered Earth's atmosphere. And thus Earth no longer became a place of refuge and safety, but a war zone. And one of the more deadly.