Taxes and Space Corn
By Livi2Jack

Summary: Them thar Revenuers is at it agin'!

Word Count: 1040 exactly!

Season 11+ (one could hope)

Characters: Jack O'Neill, Team

Related Episode: 916 Off The Grid

Pairings: None

Category: Gen/ Humor

Rating: Teen

Assignment: to use the words- accrual, withholding, exempt(ion), and trust

For the Fifth Annual Mildly Unofficial Tax Season Challenge 2007 ending April 17, 2007 (tax return deadline)


DISCLAIMER: "Stargate SG-1/Atlantis" and its characters are the property of Sony Pictures, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp., Showtime/Viacom and USA Networks, Inc. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are the property of the author(s), and may not be republished or archived elsewhere without the author's permission.

"You have to do something about this or we will," intoned an angry Lucien Alliance representative. He glared at Cam Mitchell, clearly wanting to kill him on the spot.

"Yeah, well it's your own damn fault. If you didn't get folks all hooked on this space corn, it wouldn't be a problem."

"Cassa belongs exclusively to the Lucien alliance," the man snarled. "Get it stopped or pay us our share. Think of it as an excise tax." Sneering, he backed off, weapon held up ready for a firefight, covered by his men. Raising his arm, the man pressed a control on the armband and disappeared with his men, up to their ship, leaving the broken still.

"Damn Revenuers, even in outer space they are trying to catch moonshiners at the still."

As the Team returned to the SGC, General Landry was absent. In his place stood one very stern Major General O'Neill.

"Sir," exclaimed Carter with a smile. "Good to see you!"

"Maybe not, Carter," he tapped his watch face and beckoned them to follow. "Debrief now, you're going back out."

With surprised looks, the Team followed their former leader up to the Briefing Room. Jack loped along behind them carefully shutting the door and closed the blast doors. Jack glared at each one of them.

"Sir, if I may ask, where is General Landry?" Carter shifted uncomfortably.

"I temporarily reassigned him."

The Team exchanged looks.

"Report."

"We made contact with the Lucien Alliance, which controls the cassa market. Cassa is an edible, genetically engineered, and immediately addictive plant that looks like corn but gives a psychotropic effect. Someone's been brewing whiskey with it and distributing it widely."

"Skip to the part we don't know," ordered Jack.

"They believe that we are the folks making and distributing cassa whiskey. So they are demanding that we pay a tax."

"Are we?"

Mitchell handed him a metal part, indicating a mark. "The still they dumped at our feet had 'Made In USA' stamped all over it."

Silence hung heavily in the air.

"It's easy to build a relatively sophisticated home distillation apparatus that produces a highly refined distillate," Cam explained. "This still is made from commonly available materials. With simple hand tools, I can build one for under $100. Someone knew which parts to use."

"And how to ship them out through the gate," Daniel finished.

Jack sighed. "In the meantime, the SGC is undergoing a special audit."

"Why, sir? I mean it's all happening out there," Sam argued.

"Earth hospitals report cases of the addiction, Colonel Carter," answered Dr. Lam. "The Trust is involved."

"Someone brought cassa home, grew it, and brewed it."

"Call out the hounds, sir."

"Yeah, hooch that screws the pooch," Cam chuckled.

"There's that," answered Jack. "But, we want to plug the leak through the Old Orifice."

"An audit…then, funds should show up in someone's bank account?" Daniel looked at Vala. "Maybe you should change your W-4 payroll withholding and exemptions."

Vala looked confused. "You suspect me?"

"Should I?"

A guard came to tell the General something. He nodded. A middle aged woman in a power suit walked in with two managerial types. There was a no nonsense attitude on her face and competence swirling around her like the miasma of doom. Jack stood up. There was something about her that said, 'Stand up!'

"General, I'm Mrs. Delico, the Senior Forensic Audit Partner in charge of this review."

She shook his hand without smiling. The woman was all business. Jack ordered the lights dimmed. Her aides had already set up the audio-visuals. Introductions curtly made, she began.

"Our firm is the independent auditor requested by the President and invited by the Joint Chiefs to do a forensic audit of the situation. The IOA funds the effort. We are completely independent of the military."

Vala looked at Daniel, mouthing 'forensic audit?'

"A forensic audit investigates cases of suspected fraud to prove or disprove the suspicions, and if the suspicions are proven, to identify the persons involved, support the findings by evidence and to present the evidence in an acceptable format for any subsequent disciplinary or criminal proceedings."

The view screen showed the first slide.

"Our audit reviewed various avenues for fraud using requisition and supply documents, payment vouchers, vouching inventory accounting records on the accrual and cash basis, and testing inventory quantities at random according to statistical sampling methods. We agreed the contracts let, payments made, and the flow of goods between various military installations here and abroad, including amounts sent off world." She pursed her lips into a thin line. "It didn't add up. In our opinion, there has been ample opportunity to conduct this illicit traffic by everyone from enlisted airmen, officers, and civilian contractors."

Slide after slide articulated incident after incident of sloppy record keeping, errors, and fraud. When the lights came on, Jack was extremely uncomfortable. His aides kept their eyes on the folders containing copies of the view graphs.

"We have prepared our recommendations for operational changes at the SGC as well as at Peterson. But more importantly, there have to be tighter controls between here and bases off world."

"Ma'am, what are you saying, exactly," Cam asked seriously.

"The SGC and each off world base will be assigned an SG audit team who are trained to ferret out this kind of waste, fraud, and abuse."

A few coughs punctuated the silence as the lights came up. Everyone's eyes swiveled to Jack, who frowned. His orders were to implement the changes personally at the source.

"And it will be SG-1's responsibility." Jack paused, "to organize the security necessary for the safety of these civilians. Everything will be opened to their scrutiny, no withholding information. Is that clear?"

Heads bobbed but the expressions were the same as deer caught in the headlights.

"Those teams have arrived and are designated SG-1040, SG-1041, SG-1065, SG-1120, SG-706, SG-941, and SG-990. SG-1040X will come later. They're making some changes."

"Is it your intention, O'Neill, that they execute the malefactors?"

"Um, no," Jack said mildly.

"I see. I shall recommend to the Jaffa High Council that we request such auditors, but they will have no such restrictions."

Thinking it over, Jack cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed."

Author's note to non-accountants regarding IRS form numbers:

1040 Individual Income Tax Return

1041 Fiduciary Return

1065 Partnership Return

1120 Corporation Return

706 Estate Return

990 Not for Profit institutions

941 Employment taxes

1040X Amended Individual Return