Chapter 3: Coruscant

"Finding him was the will of the Force; of that I have no doubt."
—Qui-Gon Jinn, The Phantom Menace

Sherlock Holmes found that he did not have the words to describe Coruscant. The planet was vast, bigger even than Tatooine, which he'd heard was very big for a habitable planet. And Coruscant sparkled. Sunlight gleamed over the edge of the planet's atmosphere, and there were as many lights shining in the night and twilight zones of the planet as shone in the night sky itself.

Kytti, who was flying the ship, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the boy's wonderment. "Did you know that Coruscant is one giant city?"

"My dad told me," Sherlock said softly, "but I couldn't really… imagine it. Not like this."

She hummed and steered the ship through the realspace lane of traffic extending from the city-planet, one of many spidering out from it.

He had already known something of what hyperspace lanes were like, but, during the trip, Kytti further explained that all ships going to or from Coruscant had to take these lanes in or out, no matter their point of departure or final destination respectively. Anything else would result in an ongoing series of collisions, since the planet was the single busiest interstellar traffic hub in the galaxy.

And the spectacle of thousands of ships entering and departing the planet was as enthralling as the spectacle of the planet itself. Sherlock dearly wished he could unbuckle his crash webbing and press himself against the transparisteel viewport to take it all in.

Kenit's voice broke into his thoughts: "We have a prisoner to drop off at a police station, and then we'll go on to the Temple. You had best stay here in the cockpit until we are away from the station."

"Yes, sir."

Kenit nodded, and keyed up the ship's comm unit to make a call to said station. Sherlock tuned it out in favor of surveying the city they were flying above, impossibly high metal spires reaching above clouds.

The freighter came to a stop on one of a series of landing platforms above a building shorter than the towers, but much broader and darker, drab and matt against the shining edifices surrounding it. Sherlock felt wisps of frustration, determination, fear, anger, hate, and even despair… So, this is what a police station feels like in the Force.

The Force. Sherlock had heard that term for the first time while en-route in hyperspace, while Kytti and Kenit were talking, and he'd asked what that was.

"The Force is what gives a Jedi his abilities," Kenit had explained. "It's an energy field that surrounds us and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together. Without it, life would not exist."

Sherlock had taken a minute to digest that. "So… we're all part of the Force."

"Yes, exactly."

Sherlock frowned. "And Jedi… basically, Jedi manipulate reality. That's what the Force is."

Kenit tilted his head. "Essentially, yes, that is correct. The philosophy of the Jedi Order is a bit more in-depth than that, but you have the basic concept."

Sherlock blinked, trying to come to terms with this information. "I can manipulate reality."

"Only to a point," Kenit said warningly, "and only within the bounds of the Jedi Code. Anything more than that is… discouraged."

"Master," Kytti murmured. Kenit stopped, and she gave him a Look.

Sherlock realized that Kytti was concerned that her old master would scare him. To keep the situation from getting awkward, he asked more questions about the Force and the Jedi, which led to an explanation of midi-chlorians, the "building blocks" of the Force, and then to the Jedi master taking a sample of Sherlock's blood to discover his midi-chlorian count.

Sherlock felt Kenit's stunned disbelief in the Force, but Kenit would not tell him what was wrong with the blood sample.

Now, Sherlock could only sit back in his seat and wait for the Jedi to return from the police station, and watch the ships and speeders go by, and wonder.

What have I gotten myself into?


The Jedi Temple was enormous, a huge block rising up from the other buildings around it, and five towers rising even higher from the block itself, one on each corner and one larger one in the middle. "That's where the Jedi High Council meets," Kytti told him. "They're the wisest of the Jedi Masters, and they'll decide whether or not to accept you into the Order."

"Don't worry, Sherlock," Kenit said immediately, "they will."

"They'll have to be convinced," Kytti insisted. "But, I have to admit, if there's anyone who can convince them to take you in, Sherlock, it's Master Kenit."

"That will do, young one," Kenit said gruffly, but Sherlock caught a trace of amusement from him.

"It's so big," Sherlock breathed.

"It's home to over ten thousand Jedi," Kenit said wryly, as they flew towards a large hangar. "Did you expect it to be small?" They landed, and Sherlock could see several other small craft sitting in the hangar. "Kytti, would you stay with Sherlock while I make a report to the Council?"

Kytti sighed. "As you wish, Master."

"I won't be long," he said reassuringly, hopping down from his seat and leaving the cockpit.

"I think that's a rather optimistic appraisal," Kytti said as she and Sherlock followed.

Kenit snorted. "And you worry too much, my old Padawan."

Kytti looked less than impressed, but she merely said, "We'll be in the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

"Very well."

As soon as they'd exited the hangar, the trio went in two different directions, Sherlock watching Kenit go with apprehension twisting his gut. He didn't want to be left alone with Kytti; he didn't think she liked him. And now that it came to it, he was worried that the Jedi Order—the Jedi Council—wouldn't accept him.

Kytti put a gentle, guiding hand on Sherlock's shoulder, and steered him along with her. He almost moved away from her hand, but stopped himself and looked up at her. "Where are we going?"

"To an indoor garden." She paused. "Have you ever seen a garden before?" He shook his head. "Well, you're in for a treat." Her grave expression softened. "The Room of a Thousand Fountains is the garden, one of the most beautiful of many on Coruscant."

Sherlock nodded slowly, and Kytti sighed again. "I apologize, Sherlock, if I have seemed… at all hostile towards you. As crazy as it may sound, it really is nothing personal. The Order has certain ways of living and doing things and choosing new Jedi, and… I'm not certain things will work out for you here because of that. My old master is so convinced that he can get his way with you that… I'm not sure he's thought through what will happen if he can't. How that will affect you."

Sherlock almost stopped in his tracks. "I… apology accepted?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, everything is overwhelming right now."

"I can imagine," Kytti said feelingly. "I can certainly imagine."


The Room of a Thousand Fountains was unlike anything Sherlock had ever seen before, and beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He'd never seen green plants before, or plants of any color other than brown… and the Room was filled to bursting with color. Green dominated, but there were liberal splashes of red, yellow, purple, orange, blue, and pink.

And water. He'd never seen so much water in his entire life!

"It's incredible," he breathed reverently.

Kytti smiled softly. "It is, isn't it?"

"What does it do? I mean, what is it here for?"

"Do you know what a garden is?"

"Well, you can use one to grow crops… or you can use one just for show." Having an entire space of plant life just for show seemed like a dreadful extravagance to Sherlock. "But… I never understood why you would have one for show."

"Coming from Tatooine, I suppose you wouldn't. It's beauty for beauty's sake, at least in part."

"'Beauty for beauty's sake,'" Sherlock repeated softly. He understood, of course, the concept of art as something to simply enjoy looking at, but it still seemed strange to make art out of plants when some parts of the galaxy barely even had plants.

"We also use this space as a place to talk, to think, to meditate," Kytti continued. "It's very peaceful."

"It is that," Sherlock agreed. "Are we going to walk around until Kenit comes back?"

"Master Kenit," Kytti corrected. "If you're going to be a Jedi, you have to learn to speak like one. And initiates and Padawans always call older Jedi 'Master' as a sign of respect."

"I wasn't supposed to call anyone 'Master' ever," Sherlock said quietly.

Kytti stopped. "Ah." A beat, and then: "Sherlock, you know it's not like that, right? We're not slaves. It's a term of respect, for the closeness older Jedi have to the Force, for their level of skill; that's all." She ventured a smile then. "And, yes, we're going to walk around until Master Kenit comes back. Don't you want to explore?"

He nodded shyly, and her smile widened. "Let's get to it, then."


Kenit Nusep was one of the more senior masters in the Jedi Order, so much so that he was up for promotion to the Jedi Council. That future, however, would depend on this meeting went. He paused as he finished his report on the Black Sun mission, a report he normally would have delivered with Kytti—he had already told the masters that the young Knight would have deliver her report on her own in the morning.

Ja'ali Se, the Togruta Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, tilted her head. "Master Kenit, is there more you wish to tell us?"

"Yes, my masters. While on Tatooine, Kytti and I encountered a Force-sensitive child."

"I see," Ja'ali said softly. "How old is this child?"

"Eleven years old."

"You know, of course," said Yehude Dorn, human Master of the Order, "that the child is far too old to become a Jedi. Why do you mention them, then?"

"I have brought him with us to the Temple," Kenit said evenly, "because I do wish for him to be trained."

"Preposterous!" Yehude snapped.

"It is not our way," Hylar Fenisa interjected in her deep, gentle voice. The bronze-skinned human woman looked regretful. "Kenit, you know better."

"He asked for our help," Kenit told her. "He possesses a brilliant mind, and he knows he can use the Force."

There was a ripple of surprise around the circular chamber.

"He must be strong in the Force," Ja'ali mused.

"He is," said Kenit. "He has the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have ever encountered in a lifeform. Perhaps not the highest in Jedi history, but assuredly close."

Ja'ali and Yehude looked at each other. The head of the Jedi Order and the head of the Jedi Council rarely saw eye-to-eye, but they had worked together long enough to hold entire conversations with the merest exchange of glances. Yehude sighed and turned back to Kenit. "Bring him before us."


Sherlock glanced around him as he entered the Council Chamber, trying to get decent readings on all twelve of the Jedi Masters in the room. He sensed curiosity and apprehension, and even outright dismissal; his powers of observation, however, couldn't yield much more than that. He looked back at Kenit, standing in the doorway, who nodded to him and left. Great, thanks. He was on his own for this one.

"Hello," Sherlock said, and inwardly cursed at how inane he sounded.

A female Togruta—older than most of the other beings in the room, he thought—blinked placidly. "Hello, young one. What is your name?"

Sherlock straightened and lifted his chin. "Sherlock Holmes."

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple, Sherlock Holmes," the Togruta said kindly. "I am Ja'ali Se, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. This—" she nodded to the bearded, pale-skinned male human sitting beside her— "is Yedude Dorn, Master of the Order, head of this council. He and I shall be conducting this interview with you."

Sherlock decided that a slight bow was probably in order. "It is an honor to meet you Master Se, Master Dorn."

"As it is to meet you, young Holmes," said Master Dorn, but Sherlock felt very strongly that he didn't mean it. "Master Nusep asks that you be allowed into the Jedi Order. What do you think of this idea?"

"I asked him to bring me here," Sherlock replied. "I want to be a Jedi."

"A noble goal, certainly," said Master Se. "Why?"

"Well, I know that I can use the Force, so it makes sense for me to learn how to use it properly. And… I want to help people." The reasons began to spill out of him, drawn out by the gentle warmth in Master Se's violet eyes. He could trust her; he knew that as surely as he knew his own name. "I want to protect them. I grew up in a place where it's dangerous just to be a kid. I don't want other kids to have to experience that, not if I can help it. My parents were killed by a gang two years ago, and I've been surviving ever since—and I'm tired of it! I want to do something with my life that means something."

Master Se accepted that with a slow nod of her head. "All are admirable reasons, young one."

"However," Master Dorn interjected, "you must understand that the Jedi do not allow children as old as you are to join this Order."

Sherlock frowned. "Why not? Why turn somebody down if they're willing to do whatever it takes to become a Jedi? What kind of sense does that make?" He caught slightly amused glances around the room, and realized that the amusement wasn't even focused on him, not really—as if he had stumbled across an inside joke by accident.

"It is… complicated," said Master Se. "You are right, however, to assert your willingness as a reason for the Council to break a longstanding rule."

"A longstanding rule," a dark-skinned male human snorted, "of thousands of years."

Sherlock looked around the room, his heart sinking. None of the masters looked particularly convinced that he was a chance worth taking, although, to be fair, some faces were very alien, and he couldn't be sure of them. He turned back to Master Se. "All I know," he said quietly, "is what I've got. I'm smart. I can use the Force. I am willing to make whatever sacrifices you want me to make. Please. Let me do this."

A thoughtful silence descended upon the room, at length broken by Master Dorn. "Before this Council makes a decision, you will be tested here on your sensitivity to the Force."

Sherlock nodded. "I understand."

"Very well. Let's begin."


In the aftermath, Sherlock was shivering, cold now in Coruscant's night, his head buzzing from the strain he'd put it through. He'd had to answer questions based on feeling the right answers in the Force, and while he had done so occasionally in the past, he had never done it as frequently and intensely as he had tonight.

As the Council broke up, the masters getting to their feet, Master Se approached him. "Come, young one. I'll take you to Master Nusep's quarters; you'll be staying with him tonight."

"Thank you," Sherlock said in a small voice. He couldn't gauge what the masters were thinking about him, not anymore; he was too tired.

Master Se took him to the turbolift and didn't wait for any of her fellow Jedi to join them before selecting the proper floor and sending them down. "Are you tired, young one?"

"Very," Sherlock said feelingly, before he could catch himself. He grimaced.

She noticed. "Child, you will never have to lie to feel you have given me a good impression of yourself," she said kindly. "I have been the head of this Order for twenty years, and all its children and all their hopes and fears are safe with me."

"I'm not one of your children yet, though," he protested. "And it looks as though I never will be."

"I wouldn't say that," she countered. "You made a positive impression on many of the masters. You made a positive impression on me." She placed her fingers under his chin and gently raised it. "You are a special child, Sherlock Holmes. You speak like a Jedi, you have the heart of one, without ever being raised as one. You have my word that I will do all I can to see you succeed in this place." She smiled. "And the influence of a Grandmaster is not to be taken lightly."

The lift stopped, the door opened, and they stepped out into the corridor beyond, Sherlock trailing behind Master Se. He nodded slowly, overwhelmed by the idea that he had just gained a very powerful advocate. "I don't know what to say," he murmured. "Except… thank you, Master Se. Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome, Sherlock Holmes."

Kenit met them at the door to his apartment, and ushered Sherlock in with a murmured thanks and goodnight to Master Se. Master Se departed, and Kenit managed to get Sherlock to eat a light dinner, clean himself up and put on fresh, loose clothes before the boy tumbled gratefully into a small cot. He was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.


Not for the first time, his sleep was disturbed by dreams. He saw his mother and father, as he so often did, alive and happy. He saw his grandmother telling the children of Mos Espa stories, as was her duty.

But this time, there was something new.

He saw a krayt dragon—a real, winged krayt dragon, not the ten-legged abomination the Hutts had spawned—rise into the shimmering Tatooine sky, the twin suns glinting on its white scales. Were this reality, he would have been blinded. The dragon roared, spreading its wings, and then settled once again to the ground and looked him straight in the eye.

"Always remember, Sherlock: you are made up of the fire of the suns, the vastness of the sky, the solidness of the bedrock. You were born free, and some day you will leave this world. But no matter where you go, or what you do, you must never forget where you came from, and who you are. The moment you do, you will not be free."

DO NOT FORGET, LITTLE BROTHER, said a voice in his head, as deep and vast and ancient as the night sky. The voice of the dragon. The sky-walker.

"I won't forget… Great Sister. I promise."


"I knew this day would come."

Kenit snorted and let the Grandmaster have her say.

"I just knew that someday you would find a way to upset millennia of Jedi tradition."

"As if you haven't tried, yourself," Kenit pointed out wryly, trotting alongside the Togruta's slower but longer steps.

Ja'ali chuckled. "Yes, well." She sighed. "You are right, of course. We shouldn't turn down the boy when he's not only asked for our help but also demonstrated complete willingness to take up the Jedi way. And I will do all I can to convince the rest of the Council; however, I must also think on what should be done with him if he is accepted. It seems a bit of an insult to put a mature child in an initiate creche, but the alternative is finding someone to take him as a Padawan."

"You don't need to worry about that, Master; I'll take him."

Ja'ali stopped and looked down at Kenit in surprise. "You? Kenit, you are going to join the Council next month. You can't be on the Council and have a Padawan; at least, not one that young!"

"The Council will have to wait," Kenit said with a lightness he did not quite feel. "The boy needs someone who is willing to understand him, and I have already known him in his home environment."

"Don't feel that you have to make that sacrifice based on that reason alone," Ja'ali said gently. "There are other masters who would be willing to give the boy the understanding he needs."

"Perhaps, but… When we were on Tatooine, I felt… I felt very strongly that the boy and I were meant to be important to each other's lives. Threads of destiny, if you will. Meeting Sherlock Holmes was the will of the Force; of that, I have no doubt."

Ja'ali nodded slowly. "I have sensed… something similar. Not as well-defined, but I agree. Sherlock was meant to come to you, and you were meant to bring him here. As far as it is within my power, he will be a Jedi, my old friend, I promise you."


The next morning, Sherlock stood before the Council again, Kenit standing behind, a comforting presence in the midst of twelve Jedi Masters who were not allowing their thoughts and emotions to be felt, not this time. "Sherlock Holmes," Ja'ali Se intoned solemnly, "it is the will of this Council that you join the Jedi Order, if that is still your wish."

Wide-eyed, Sherlock took a deep breath and tried to will away his nervousness. "It is."

Approval glimmered in Master Se's large eyes. "Then a Jedi you will be. Master Kenit Nusep has agreed to take you as his Padawan learner."

"May the Force be with you both," Master Dorn said gravely.

Kenit bowed, and Sherlock copied him. "May the Force," said Sherlock's new mentor, "be with us all."


A/N: Finally. Sherlock Holmes is a Jedi, and it only took me three chapters to get to that starting point. :P I should point out right now that there will be absolutely zero characters from SW canon or EU (past and present) in these stories. We're keeping historical figures like Revan and Darth Bane, but anybody alive at this point in Star Wars history is out the window. It's just… cleaner, that way.

Ja'ali Se doesn't have a counterpart in the SH universe, in case anyone was wondering. And I think that ever since I started thinking about how to continue this AU from what Ria had started, the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order would be a woman. And, frankly, more unambiguously good than Yoda. I hope you guys will like her, because I love her to pieces.

And, wow, this was the longest chapter I've written yet for this 'verse! I really wanted to fit this all in one go, and stuff kept piling on (I blame the characters). In the end, I decided to cut out the Council's private discussion about Sherlock, at least for the moment. We might hear more about it later on in a flashback. For now, I didn't want the chapter to get any longer than it already was, and I wanted to end it with Sherlock as a Jedi.

Last but not least, massive shout-out to the amazing Fialleril, without whose Tatooine slave culture worldbuilding I probably wouldn't have tried so hard to do some of my own. Sometimes, my stuff might parallel theirs; other times, depart completely. But I felt that a shout-out was in order. Especially if you haven't read their magnificent AU Double Agent Vader yet (on FFN, AO3, and Tumblr). If you haven't, what are you doing with your life?