<div class="floatleft">(http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/anIrishlad/e1ea7731-f789-473c-b283-ee5842efaa62_zpsbwo0bfy1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Chief Fredrick Hagerstrom<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Train Station<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Shéya, Dani, Gildai, Bella, Maxi,  Marcus and Bianka.<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>There was a grin on Fredrik’s face, a mixture of amusement at the answers coming in after his little welcome speech and the knowing look of a veteran, when faced with eager recruits. Some of them, Marcus and the big Saint Bernard, seemed happy at the prospect that violent criminals would try to kill them, while one of the morphs in the back, she looked like a Doberman, voiced a question about biting someone, even as a couple of latecomers slipped off the maglev, as it prepared to leave the station.<br/><br/>His attention went first to Bianka, as she suggested testing the qualifications of those who had been sent out into desert town. Truthfully, he didn’t care much about just how qualified any of them were, he had never asked for skills, when he had deputized those willing in the past. However, getting something cobbled together, like a range, to keep skills sharp or allow those unskilled in firearms, to work on them, would be nice and if the powerful looking Saint Bernard wanted to take responsibility for that task, he’s let her. However, something caught in his mind, from her little proposal.<br/><br/>For a moment, he looked at her with a slightly arched eyebrow. She wanted somewhere to stow her gear and get her girls out. Unless she was carrying about some female friends or children in those cases she was carrying, the only other things he had heard women refer to as girls, were their breasts. While she did look to have an impressive pair, he wasn’t sure just what her tits would have to do with police skills, unless she planned on smothering someone into submission or mesmerizing someone into confessing.<br/><br/>Although she was ex-military, maybe she meant guns, either way, it would be interesting to see at the station.<br/><br/>“I don’t think any testing” said the Chief, “Will be required Captain Saint, however, no doubt you have all had a long trip. It might be nice to have somewhere to refresh one’s skills. If you're interested in setting that up, I think we can work out something.”<br/><br/>Skipping the Doberman for moment, he went next to one of the late arrivals. She was a little on the shorter side and he couldn’t put his finger on her breed but she did cause his slightly mocking grin to turn into a amused half smile, as she stood there, tag wagging and hand raised, waiting for him to call on her, as if this were a classroom. He nodded to her and found that there was another former soldier among the new police force and a medic to boot. Which was a relief to be told. There was a doctor of sorts in town but Fredrik wasn’t sure of the man even had a fake medical license. It would be nice to have someone with at least some schooling on treating injuries to the body.<br/><br/>“I don’t care really Bella” he answered, “If you're polite or insulting. However, if your going to be insulting, it had better be creative. I’ve heard everything the local grade school dropout have to call him and it gets boring.”<br/><br/>Before he could get back to the Doberman, another morph called out from the back of the group, an introduction. The Cheif glanced at her, she looked like some sort of pit bull or at least from the breeds that get lumped together as pit bulls. He gave her a nod, both to acknowledge that she had spoken and to acknowledge that she had correctly guessed who he was. With everything else out of the way, he looked back at Gilda, although he didn’t know her name at this point.<br/><br/>“Feel free” said Fredrik, “To bite any suspect you want, if you really want that sort of taste in your mouth. Unless you're hauling someone out of a brothel, there's a very good chance they haven’t bathed in at least a week, a very sweaty, filthy week. As for when, well lets get all of you settled in the station first.”<br/><br/>He glanced up at the sky, as the large sun neared it zenith. To most humans or morphs, especially those from Earth herself, the hour would be noon. However, Priri IV had a twenty-eight hour day, so it was closer to fourteen hundred, as most on the planet used military time, as it was easier then trying the awkward thirteen or fourteen o’clock. Turning, he waved his hand for them to follow him and headed back towards the town. Almost everyone was getting off the street ahead of them, not because they feared the approaching body of law enforcers but because no one wanted to be in the midday heat or the intense spike that would follow in the next three hours.<br/><br/>Most of the citizens, at least those still outside or near windows, paused to look at the new arrivals. Most were like Hagerstrom, never having seen live Genomorphs before, just pictures, vids and trids of them. No doubt, at least for a couple of days, there would be rumors that the Chief of police was as corrupt as the mayor, skimming off funds, until he had enough to buy himself a harem of morphs. Of course, those who love rumors would ignore the fact, that if the Chief had enough money to by that many morphs, that he would have had enough to leave this town and live happily somewhere else.<br/><br/>Not everyone was gaping or hustling inside though. Just ahead of the little party, two men burst through the door of one of the many bars in town. There were more bars and brothels then houses, stores, banks and warehouses combined. The two drunkardly punched at one another for several seconds, ignoring everything and everyone else, as the police came to a stop, the Chief just watching, until there was a flash of steel. One had pulled a knife.<br/><br/>Without a word, Fredrik took a few long stepped forwards and threw a punch of his own. His first sailed right past the face of the second drunk and slammed into the nose of the knifeman. There was the loud crunch of breaking cartilage, as the man was pitched backwards, the back of his head smacking against the support of the overheard porch. Limply, the man dropped the knife and slumped down, dazed, with blood running down his face. The second man, stared for a moment, before his drink addled mind realized just who had stepped into the fight and the fact that Hagerstrom arrested both parties in a fight, suddenly came to mind. The drunk turned, starting to run, right towards the morphs.<br/><br/>“Get him someone” said the Chief, as he picked up the knife.