"And if we failed to find the document in question, or if it wasn't actually incriminating, the injured corporation could slap us with a juicy damage claim." He looked at Stan coldly.
"If you want, I can get the local statute and let you look that over, too." He paused briefly and non-expectantly.
"On the other hand, we are obligated to protect the interests of galactic citizens." He looked pointedly at the insigne on Stan's pocket, then held out a tablet.
"Here. Suppose you sit down over there at that table and write out the complaint in your own handwriting. I'll pass it along."
Stan looked at the tablet for a moment.
"Oh—Suppose I manage to get copies of the records on this. Do you think you could do anything then?"
"If you can bring in documentary evidence, that'll make a case; we'll take action, of course. That's what we're here for." The sergeant tapped impassively on the tablet.
"Want to make a written statement?"
"Skip it," Stan told him wearily, "I don't want to waste any more time."
As he turned away, he thought he noticed a faint flicker of disappointment on the sergeant's face before the man bent over his desk.