“So...what is this ‘Blackke’?” Walking through the street toward his hoverbike, Urk took the opportunity to ask another question. Idly, his mind wandered over the strange contraption. Two plate-like circles underneath a square compartment with a curved front. It almost looked like a bird head in a way, but with the eyes underneath it, to stare into the ground forever as it sat there.

“It’s another town. A smugglers’ den. They got a hold of one of our generators and used it to make a moving city.” As the man slipped onto the bike, Urk was able to take in their details easier—blue uniform with gold accents and a badge, serious brown eyes, and a mane of auburn brown hair curling down his back.

“Let’s see how fast you are, monster.” Flicking the switch, the machine roared to life and lifted into the air. As it took off in another direction, Urk let out an alarmed cry and raced after it. Claws gripped and ran on vertical surfaces as he leapt from building to building to try and keep up with the retreating form. While the motorbike did vanish out of view, he was able to follow the scent and arrive shortly after.

“Not bad, not bad,” the man commented as he tossed his helmet onto the vehicle and moved to enter the building. The tall doors opened to a spherical room with a desk in the centre, the ground patterned with a bird with gilded wings spread in flight. Marble pillars held up the domed ceiling, hiding the lights that illuminated the place.

“What is that creature doing here? He’s scratching the floor.” Looking down at the receptionist’s words, Urk made an effort to lift up his talons so as to not damage the floor further. A sheepish smile fell on his face as a shiver of nervousness filled him. The receptionist was unamused.

“Need to see the chief. He in?” Leaning back on the soles of his feet, the man slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants. Urk looked down to his own clothing, simple casual wear…aha! With a brief smile, he copied the action and slipped his hands into the pockets of his own pants. The man let out a soft breath in amusement.

“Yeah, he should be in his office, go on in.” With his own shadow following him, the man trailed toward a door and knocked against it. A stiff voice answered to welcome them in. The office walls were filled with more books than a person could feasibly read, each one covered in a thick layer of dust that indicated a lack of use.

Behind the old wooden desk sat a rotund man with a hat sitting off to one side. A holographic screen was transmitted from a small projector on the table behind the metal plate that held his name: Sergeant Moes. The man leading Urk gave a brief bow of his head and explained the recent incident.

“...Look, even if he helped out, he’s a monster. No one on the force would willingly work with him.” Sergeant Moes turned off his screen to allow a full view of the two before him. He looked over the 3-foot tall kobold that was looking down timidly.

“I will, Sir.” Those three words caught the other two off guard. As his eyes widened, Urk looked up toward the man and saw his determined expression. A sigh left the Sergeant, and he moved to reach for his phone.

“Fine, but you’re training him. It will take a few days to get the paperwork sorted, use that time to get him dressed in something half professional.” The verdict delivered, the man dialed a number and proceeded to begin to talk to someone on the other end. A smile fell on the officer’s face as he escorted his new officer out.

“Well, with that settled we should probably see about names. I’m Jones, Jones Presley.” The man turned toward the kobold and waited.

“Urk. Are...you sure I’m a good fit for this? I’m sure there are better fighters…” Tapping his claws together, Urk didn’t really know if this was a good idea.

“Sure, probably many. But I’m not looking for the best fighter. Or the best tracker, or the fastest.” Kneeling down, the man poked Urk in the chest.

“I’m looking for one who acts. While clumsy, you did go out to find the perp. Maybe next time don’t announce your presence though.” A soft chuckle left him as he relaxed, and a brief burst of affection filled Urk as his pupils dilated.

“Y-Yes! Right!” With a wagging tail, he gave a bright smile, earning himself a pat on the head as the man stood up.

“Mind if I call you Dirk though? Urk sounds like the sound you make when you vomit. I do enough of that on a weekend to not want a daily reminder.” The joke flew right over the head of the small kobold, but it didn’t need to land to get a nod from Urk. To receive a name of any kind was an honour, true or not.

“Well then, Dirk. Let’s get you measured for clothing. Knowing that furry, she’ll probably hug you the moment we arrive.” A suffering sigh escaped him as he began to lead the way further into the building. Much less decorated compared to the entrance, it soon devolved into simple offices and rooms. Their stop took them to a door marked ‘tailor,’ and Jones knocked on it.

“Hrm? Do you need so—” The curly-haired woman with nerdy glasses who opened the door immediately lunged for the kobold upon seeing them. Leaping onto the ceiling instinctively, Urk looked down at the woman as he gripped onto it, eyes glowing.

“Acting cute won’t keep you safe from me forever!” She waved a fist playfully and turned to listen to Jones.

“Meet my new assistant, Dirk. Need to get him fitted for a...unique uniform size.” Reaching into his pocket, Jones pulled out a phone and moved to find somewhere to sit. The woman looked up with a huff.

“Well, he’s got to come down first. I promise no hugs if you come down...alright?” At that promise, Urk climbed back down the wall and stood still as the woman looked him up and down.

“Well, let’s begin then. Come on in and I’ll take your measurements. Do some experiments.” Reluctantly, he followed her inside the room.

Nothing filled him with more instant regret than the moment the door closed behind him.