Galactically speaking, missing persons reports are a fairly unreliable proposition. Between the limited scope of the local authorities (which vary in effectiveness), the relative incompetence of the Empire’s own forces, and the practically infinite expanse of the galaxy in which said Empire is located, the finding of persons reported as lost is an exercise which would rightly be regarded as insane by any single, rational person. It is nonetheless and subsequently relied upon by those who have lost their ration- in which subgroup almost the entirety of people who have lost a person reside. James’ mother temporarily joined them after not hearing from him for two days. In a broad sense she had started to worry when not hearing from him for one day, but knew her son well enough to know he might have just been too lazy to walk all the way back home after a longish stroll down the street. The next day she knew there was trouble, because he usually didn’t have enough money for more than two coffees on any given jaunt and by would have needed a minimum of six during the period in question to maintain his regular custom. It was at this point that she called the Malyrian Police Department.
At its inception the Malyrian PD’s official slogan had been “Hey: We Tried.” It was remarkably effective at describing their activities, because if everyone was completely honest the other option profferred- the phrase “We Can Do It”- would have been both optimistic and a gross exaggeration of capability. After many successful years of being the only organization on the planet admitting to effort, it was pointed out that the slogan evinced an overly cavalier attitude and that maybe something could be done to professionalize it. Much deliberation ensued, involving a weeklong summit attended by each of the Quadrantian Councils, who finally decided on new slogan and determined that it should be put forth and immediately so.
Each and every vehicle was branded with the new motto within forty-eight hours: a remarkable display of efficiency despite the fleet’s immense size of four two-person cruisers and a maintenance truck. The new slogan was well regarded by most, and thought to be a genuine upgrade to the department’s mindset and official representation… as well as a very good smokescreen for the fact that not only had crime risen but not a single actual crime was solved during the entire Malyrian Calendar Year surrounding the change.
And so it was that a mere thirty-six hours after reporting her son missing, a chubby, smiling man in a sharp brown uniform knocked on Melora Morris’ door. His badge shone brightly, and just below the symbolic planetary circle were pressed the words “Doing My Best.”
He was proud to say that he most certainly was, and took a bite from the sandwich he carried in his pocket.
