What if Sherlock stepped into a galaxy far, far away? This is a story of what would happen if Sherlock was a Consulting Detective for the New Republic, and John was an ex Jedi Knight.
Sherlock woke up to his communicator dinging. He had received a hologram message from Commander Lestrade of the New Republic.
"Sherlock. There's been another one. Get down to sector 77 as soon as you can. It's the second moon. We have an outpost, I'll tractor beam you in."
Perfect. Sherlock leaped out of bed, and put on his coat. He walked out of his room, grabbing a bagel from the counter on his way to John's room. He knocked on the door twice before letting himself in.
"John! Wake up! There's been another one! We must hurry before those idiot Clone Troopers contaminate the crime scene. Bring your lightsaber, though, it's on the first moon of sector 77, never know what kind of horrid creature we might run into."
John had practically fallen out of his bed from Sherlock's sudden intrusion. If this was three years ago, John would have gotten angry, but he was used to Sherlock's antics now.
"Sector 77? That's much farther out than the rest of the murders. Seems like our murderer is branching out."
John pulled on a pair of pants, while Sherlock made some tea. They had been investigating a string of murders that was normally restricted to the uan Galaxy, but this one was about four galaxies over. All of the murders so far had been committed with lightsabers. It was as if the murderer knew Sherlock was on his trail, and was trying to throw him off. Considering how fast news tended to travel across the galaxies, it wouldn't be surprising.
"So, let's get going, shall we? Don't want the Clone Troopers contaminating our crime scene." John said, picking up a cup of tea.
"Did you bring your lightsaber?" Sherlock asked, opening the door to their apartment.
"Yes, Sherlock," John answered with a sigh.
. . .
Their star ship landed on the planets moon, right next to Commander Lestrade, who had his hands over his eyes to keep dust from going into them. The two exited their starship, and walked onto the outpost.
"Details," Sherlock commanded.
"Good afternoon to you too, Sherlock," Lestrade replied sarcastically. "We don't have that much information. Unlike the rest of the murders, this one is not in the Huan galaxy. There are quite a lot of lightsaber wounds on the victim, so we immediately contacted you."
"John, give me a hand. Flip him over to his side and hold him." Sherlock ordered.
John complied, and Sherlock used his scanner to create a holographic X-Ray. Sherlock looked at it, and scoffed.
"Lestrade, you're an idiot. The murder weapon was a blaster, not a lightsaber." Sherlock said, closing the hologram.
"Bull. The wound is way too precise to be a blaster. No blaster can leave a mark like that, and you can tell from the burns that it had to be a long range shot, if it was a blaster."
"It had to have been, run ballistics," Sherlock said. The only thing was, Lestrade was right. The shot was much too precise, although Sherlock knew people that could make the shot. They were too far out to make it, though. The only way that somebody could make a shot like that was if they were trying to make it look like a lightsaber attack. Likely to distract Sherlock. Only reason somebody could do that… Sherlock whirled around.
"Lestrade, contact your sources in the Huan Galaxy. There's been another murder." Sherlock said grimly.
"How in the world could you possibly know that?" John asked, confused. "You're smart, not a bloody psychic!"
"John," Lestrade interrupted, closing his communicator. "He's right. There's been another murder."
Sherlock smirked before walking towards the starship, John not too far behind.
"How in the world could you know that, Sherlock?" John asked, as their starship left that moons orbit. John was amazed at how Sherlock could deduce something out of nothing. He could tell what you ate for breakfast just from looking at the color of your tie, for god's sake. It was incredible. Sherlock had the makings of a good Jedi. John couldn't help but wonder if he used the Force to solve the murders. He might have used it without even trying. Still, John couldn't help but thinking how dangerous he could be if he turned his talents against the New Republic.
"Elementary, my dear Watson. While the rest of you have been looking for reasons to prove that they were lightsaber wounds, I was looking for reasons to prove the opposite. That, Doctor, is how I knew."
Watson still didn't understand how Sherlock possibly could've known. Sherlock tended to spew gibberish as an attempt of explanation. Watson knew that Sherlock was simply showing off. Almost everybody did. It was the reason why almost everybody in the New Republic hated him.
"Alright then," Watson said. "We're making the jump to light speed in fifteen seconds. You may want to strap in, old friend."
Sherlock obeyed, pulling on his safety belts as the light of stars bent around them. After a few minutes of blinding light, the starship began to slow down, as it approached a Republic Star Destroyer.
"John," Sherlock said, as the Star Destroyer tractor beamed the ship in. "The game, my friend is afoot."