To take that example into the real world:
Back in the early 1950s, my father worked for the Ministry of Transport of Ontario. The duties of the MTO included running scales to weight commercial vehicles, doing school bus safety inspections, inspecting some garages that did work for the government, doing roadside stops of commercial vehicles for inspections (and often enough tickets or requirements for repair), and sometimes pursuing truckers. They were unarmed, but they were law enforcement. Dad drove a 1949 Mercury straight six that could blow the doors off of some of the V-8s of the time (it'd bury the needle after passing 130 mph, so maybe 140-145 mph). One time, dad got clocked blowing through a small town by an Ontario Provincial Police car. It only caught up with him because he turned to go up to Rideau Ferry which at the time was just that (a ferry) so he stopped and a few minutes later, an OPP cruiser zoomed up all lights and excitement. But that tale I will leave for another time...
... the relevant part to the notion of how regimes work:
My dad went to the scalehouse on Hwy 401 near Brockville. Major artery from Montreal to Toronto with connections across into Northern New York at Ivy Lea and Cornwall and then again down around Niagra. Lots of commercial traffic. Dad parked and went inside, being his first time to this scalehouse.
The guys at the scalehouse were friendly. Asked him if he'd like a drink. Dad say 'Sure, what have you got?' The answer was 'Whatever you'd like.... beer, rum, rye, scotch, vodka....'. Dad was perplexed as the scalehouse did not have some massive storage area or a large refrigerated section. Turned out the entire crawlspace underneath was packed with beer (keeping it cool) and the attic was full of *cases* of licqour of all sorts including some premium stuff.
Turns out, the guys at the scale put the screws hard to some of the companies that did trucking and the drivers kept asking if there was anything they could do to get the agents from busting their ****s.... so someone realized there was an option here to gain some loot because both the scalehouse guys could profit, but so could the trucking companies because the scalehouse would let them run 10-15% overweight. So each time one of their trucks came in, they'd get a case of scotch, two flats of beer, and a turkey (for instance). One entrepeneur at the scale had a *garage* at his house entirely stocked with beer and he ran a 'cash and carry' (curbside pickup) for $5 a case (cheaper than you could buy beer but ALL profit).
I asked dad what he did. Dad was always the straight arrow in any situation. He would not take part when they offered to let him in on this fool-proof scheme.
I asked him whether he told anyone - police, superiors, etc? His reply was: Who would I tell? He related being invited to a party at the scalehouse where all the scale agents plus the mobile agents were there plus their supervisors, the deputy director, the local justice of the peace, a local magistrate of the provincial court, the local Ontario Provincial Police, the Brockville police including the chief, and so on. Literally everyone my dad could have reported this scam to was already aware of it and was turning a blind eye.
Dad did what he could do; He declined to line his pockets. (aside: This is where I learned what integrity and honesty were - when you could easily profit with no chance of consequence by violating the rules, and nobody would know, but you chose not to and followed the rules.... that was integrity and honesty right there ... I tell this story to my daughter when we talk about what's easy vs. what is right....)
ObTrav:
So, when I cite the freighter Captain offering the Naval boarding parties a 'heartfelt gift for the hard working spacers that protect us', I am drawing this from that real story. Everyone in authority in an area can be involved in these sorts of scams. Small town police departments are notorious for nepotism and corruption as well as flagrant violations of civil rights ("You'd better open that door, Bill... we know your car and it'll go badly down the road if you don't..."). Even chunks of larger government structures without appropriate oversight, cross checks, snap inspections, audits, etc. can easily go that road.
Imperial Naval units administering Customs and Excise or local system forces as well. Everyone feels like they aren't paid enough and corruption is a victimless crime - everybody benefits.
That's not rum-ration territory normally, but it could go that way if you were wanting to start to grease the wheels after an Imperial prohibition on booze on ships. I think any PC Captain who wasn't a straight arrow would consider this route if it saved trouble for the ship and crew (and for some reason, Alex's Captain in PA:Vector Thrust seemed like the short who might try to 'grease the wheels' to avoid taxation or deep inspection).
That corruption went on for as long as dad worked at the MTO (years).
My dad was also one who believed in doing his job. He showed up at Jones' Falls (a small hamlet) and the local garage operator who also ran the local school buses was gobsmacked. He let dad inspect and all his buses were in order, but he said to my dad "I've been running these buses for nearly 30 years... and I've never seen an inspector before now....". My dad kept a rolodex (kids of the electronic age, think of it as a small database using file cards) and a schedule and he inspected. Other agents didn't bother and just let things slide.
It's people like my dad that keep some faith in government and the other sort show us what to watch out for.
I miss dad. But if anyone ever thinks I'm too much of a straight shooter (sometimes make waves that make my own path rough to stay to the straight path), it comes from dad.
TomB