Lieutenant Olsen downed the last dregs of his coffee before setting the cup down none-too-gently. He glared at the documents in his hands.

“I hate paperwork,” he growled to himself.

At his rank, a good deal of his time was spent on paperwork. It didn’t help that he was in charge of the night watch, either. The hours always seemed to drag on more and more the later it got, which only dampened his mood even further. ‘Canidans aren’t nocturnal,’ he had told his superior. He had been assured that it was only a temporary assignment, but that had been months ago.

He shrugged mentally. At least it paid well. And it came with other perks, like coffee. He absently reached for the cup and tried to take a swig, only to be reminded that it was empty.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” Lieutenant Olsen growled, setting the cup down.

The door creaked open, and the face of young human boy no older than sixteen peered around it.

“What is it, Walsh?” the lieutenant demanded.

“Pardon me, Lieutenant, but Sergeant Vasile would like to see you,” the boy said.

“I’m busy, can’t it wait?”

There was a sudden commotion in the hallway as the sound of raised voices reached their ears. The boy looked back over his shoulder, then turned back to the Lieutenant.

“I can try, sir, but—”

“Never mind, just let them in. And bring me another coffee,” Lieutenant Olsen said, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, sir,” the boy said. He ducked back out, closing the door behind him. A moment later there was another knock.

“Enter,” Lieutenant Olsen growled.

The door opened, and Sergeant Stan Vasile entered. Behind him, two guards were forcefully pulling a young human man forward, who seemed to be the source of the commotion. Behind them was a young human woman who was looking very embarrassed, as well as a large human man who was looking a little dazed. The last ones to enter were an old Simian man, a young human man with red hair, and a young Verdan woman.

Stan approached the desk and saluted. Lieutenant Olsen rose and saluted as well, then sat back down.

“What is it, Sergeant?” he asked gruffly.

“Sir, please excuse the interruption, sir,” Stan said.

Suddenly, the young man causing the commotion broke free of the guards holding him and elbowed his way past Stan.

“Finally! Are you the one in charge? Because I have several complaints to make!” he said, planting his hands on the Lieutenant’s desk.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Lieutenant Olsen’s eyes narrowed. He put his own hands on the desk and slowly stood up. Then he leaned forward menacingly.

“I am, and I suggest you take a step back and let us finish our conversation,” he snarled.

The young man cowered before the Lieutenant, quickly taking several steps back. The guards made no move to restrain him again, but they both quietly smirked. Lieutenant Olsen glared at the young man for a moment longer, then sat down again.

“Continue, Sergeant Vasile,” he said.

“Sir,” Stan said, standing at attention once more. “During our patrol of the Ribbon Road we heard a commotion outside of the Crafting District. When we investigated, we found this group to be the cause of it. We brought them all in to give their statements, but this one—” he gestured to the young man, “insisted that he speak to you directly.”

“Is that so?” Lieutenant Olsen said, looking back at the young man.

“Yes, sir,” Stan affirmed.

Lieutenant Olsen leaned back in his seat and gestured for the young man to step forward. The young man quickly composed himself before stepping up to the desk.

“Ahem – good sir,” the young man said politely before his voice gave way to indignant anger, “I insist that you arrest these vagabonds at once!”

“On what grounds?” Lieutenant Olsen asked.

“They attacked me! The big ape took out my bodyguard, and she held me at arrow point,” the young man said, pointing behind himself at the Simian and the Verdan.

Lieutenant Olsen sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes again. It seemed like it was going to be another one of those nights.

“If I may, sir,” Stan said, “when we arrived on the scene we did find the Verdan threatening him with a bow, and Mr. Mahi’ai” – he gestured to the old Simian – “admitted to assaulting his bodyguard. However, he claims he did so to protect his friend here from getting assaulted by said bodyguard.”

“He’s lying!” the young man said. “And I can prove it! The ginger stole an amethyst gem from me before the guards came. He still has it in his pocket.”

The red-headed man visibly stiffened and suddenly looked nervous. Lieutenant Olsen looked him up and down. Then he gestured for the two other guards to search him. The red-headed man resisted at first, until the old Simian put a hand on his back.

“Don’t. It’ll only make things worse,” the old Simian said.

The guards searched the red-headed man’s pockets, eventually pulling out a gold pendant with a broken chain, and a purple sphere. These were placed on Lieutenant Olsen’s desk while the young man smiled triumphantly.

Lieutenant Olsen examined the pendant. It had a simple design, yet seemed to be made of solid gold. There was a spherical indent about the same size as the purple sphere, though the pieces of the setting were broken. He then picked up the purple sphere and held it up between his clawed fingers. Its surface was completely smooth, and deep inside the purple color it sparkled like it was full of stars. Now, admittedly, Lieutenant Olsen was no jeweler, but even he could tell that this was a Sanguine crystal, not an amethyst gem.

“Sergeant Vasile,” he said, putting the crystal down.

“Sir?” Stan said.

“Put them all in lockup until this gets sorted out,” Lieutenant Olsen ordered.

“Sir!” Stan saluted.

The young man’s gleeful smirk disappeared when he realized that ‘them all’ included him, too. He shied away from Stan’s attempts to usher him out of the room.

“How dare you! Do you know who I am? I will not tolerate such disrespect—"

“You better shut your trap before I do it for you!” the Lieutenant growled.

The young man’s face suddenly grew pale. His knees shook, all of his composure lost as he stared up at Lieutenant Olsen’s bared fangs.

“B-but, my father—” he whimpered weakly.

“Boy, if I had a gold piece for every time a pompous, self-indulgent youngster like you came in here demanding special treatment because of his father, I’d be richer than the king of Boronovo. Now, get out of my sight. We’re done here,” Lieutenant Olsen said, directing the last statement at Stan.

Stan nodded, then grabbed the young man by the shoulders and guided him out of the room. The other guards ushered the rest of the group out as well. Lieutenant Olsen waited until the door was closed before he slumped back in his seat.

“What a night,” he muttered. He automatically reached for his cup and took a swig, only to realize that it was still, in fact, empty.

“Walsh! Where’s my coffee?!” he cried angrily.