A reporter walks up to you.
HELLO!! they yell. I am a reporter sent by Central Command.
The young reporter person points at their "CC Reporter" ID. Looks counterfeit...
I, er. Am on a very important mission. I have to draw some ~STATISTICS~! Namely, how much of the crew has ever been subject to Punitive Actions from Internal Affair Agents, NanoTrasen Representatives, Magi-
They shudder for a moment.
Magistrates... NO MATTER!!
They pull out a clipboard, very clearly labeled Whirlow O. Social Studies Assignment.
Chem!Santamaria:
I once forgot to make radiation medication in time for the audit... an IAA Class-I'd me out of my boots. Quite literally! I would've escalated this to the NTRep because that was basic PPE for laboratory spills, but an arachnid coworker was nice enough to spin some web and give me some comfy new footwear.
Pro tip for that Agent: next time, Class-I something else, like, I don't know, the two-hundred units of Space Lube in my ChemMaster.
HoP!Santamaria:
I will never forget the day I got a Class-II delivered to me firsthand. I'd hired a HoP Assistant without asking the Captain first - or any other Heads for that matter. Oh my god-- what was I thinking!!
That day I went on an alcohol-induced drinking spree and hanged out with some friends, which minorly counteracted the dread of having my immaculate track record tarnished.