This is not going as planned
Apr. 17th, 2006 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogMy return entry, my 1000th entry, my second anniversary entry- all to be something different, unique and special.
And maybe it is. Just not as planned. For an evening of writers block was interrupted by the sudden appearance on my Flist of a bunch of replies to a Friend-of-Many-Friends' annual Tax Season Challenge!
So I promise- other things for other people, but later. For now, my almost-last-minute filing:
The Alliance's secrets were safe. Those secrets would keep Mal safe. Or so he thought.
The transmission of those secrets to the rest of the 'Verse had been foiled by Mr. Universe's careless use of the Alliance-standard Mi Cro Softsponder, but the full backup on Serenity's disks (and more importantly, the backup of the backup hidden in the false bottom of Inara's condom trolley) had laid the basis for his fragile and uncomfortable deal with the Operative.
"She's tore up plenty, but she'll fly true," Zoe had said. Zoe was right. The Operative's word, on the other hand, may have proclaimed a truce, but was it as true as the boat's trajectory?
Apparently not.
For he had barely cleared the interference of the ion cloud when sensors detected a fleet of Alliance destroyers blocking his path.
Even more foreboding was what the sensors detected in their wake: thousands upon millions of pages of paper in blinding black Sino-English type.
"Kaylee!", Reynolds screamed. "Full stop and shut those intake valves! We're being intercepted and about to enter a tax code hole!"
"I'm on it, Capn," she responded, once fully pulled away from Simon's full physical examination of her body in sick bay. It seemed a cruel time for the Captain to force his withholding of his newfound affection for her, but not even love was exempt from the ultimate forces in the 'Verse. They'd cheated Death, but now, it seemed, they were about to face Taxes.
----
"I've taken just about enough of your gorram Alliance bullshit," Reynolds stormed.
His transmission produced no visual display of his new nemesis, but only a scrolling on the viewer of a constant stream of numbers- 80SS, 179 (circular PR), 501(c)(3), 1040, 1099, 1099-C, 1099-R, on and on and on, hypnotically. River began to tense. Mal, seeing this, began to worry.
Finally, after an interminable time on hold, a voice replied.
"This is Commissioner Everson. I claim a lien on this ship in the name of Alliance Revenue for failure to pay sales tax on purchase, for unreported income from illegal activities, for filing of fraudulent claims for credits against Alliance taxation on account of taxes allegedly paid to the Nation of Jaynetown, and for attempting to file a joint return with another man's wife- several other mens' wives, in fact- on YOUR tax return. Prepare to be boarded."
The mention of his name raising Jayne from his drunken stupor, he raced to the bridge and for the first time in the story arc showed genuine fear. "I thought River'd taken care of all them Reavers," he said. "But this is a far worse fate than them, Capn. We've got....Revenooers!"
----
"Cut....the....audio," River whispered tersely.
"Consider it cut. What are you up to?"
"I have a plan," she replied. "Just stall them a bit."
Reynolds toggled the audio and stammered.... "I realize, and I recognize, that we have indeed seen gain from our activities. We have sought shelter in the wrong places. And in our return to known Havens, we've relied too heavily on Book value and not spent nearly enough time in the fair market."
(A nudge from River- this one fortunately breaking no bones- told Mal her plan, whatever it was, was ready.)
"I know the history, Commissioner," she said. "This is how the government got Al Capone. It's how you broke most of the late 20th century mob. But you didn't contemplate our knowing about the ultimate weapon, much less having it, much less being ready to use it."
A blinding flash of keystrokes flew in the wake of the young genius. "Here it comes."
Across the short but icy blackness of space between Serenity and the Alliance Revenooers, a single double-sided page flew, impacting just above the Commissioner's skull.
"Shit!" came the reply from his command ship. "They fired a 4868 at us! We have to leave them alone for six months now!"
The fleet turned on its heels as each retreated into its own tax bracket.
----
Reynolds smiled at his bothersome protege. "River, you just earned your pay for the week. Now get your ass down and fill out a W-4 so I don't get hit with a 100% penalty on your withholding."
Kaylee reopened the intake valves and headed back to Simon's arms. "Mrs. Simon Tam," she muttered dreamily. "Married, filing jointly."
Zoe merely looked out the window and thanked the gods that the estate tax repeal had been made permanent. Wash had never been good at estate planning.
Jayne finished filling out fake W-2s for Vera so he'd continue to be able to claim her as a dependent.
And Joss contemplated the tax advantages of forming another production partnership for a prequel.
And maybe it is. Just not as planned. For an evening of writers block was interrupted by the sudden appearance on my Flist of a bunch of replies to a Friend-of-Many-Friends' annual Tax Season Challenge!
So I promise- other things for other people, but later. For now, my almost-last-minute filing:
The Alliance's secrets were safe. Those secrets would keep Mal safe. Or so he thought.
The transmission of those secrets to the rest of the 'Verse had been foiled by Mr. Universe's careless use of the Alliance-standard Mi Cro Softsponder, but the full backup on Serenity's disks (and more importantly, the backup of the backup hidden in the false bottom of Inara's condom trolley) had laid the basis for his fragile and uncomfortable deal with the Operative.
"She's tore up plenty, but she'll fly true," Zoe had said. Zoe was right. The Operative's word, on the other hand, may have proclaimed a truce, but was it as true as the boat's trajectory?
Apparently not.
For he had barely cleared the interference of the ion cloud when sensors detected a fleet of Alliance destroyers blocking his path.
Even more foreboding was what the sensors detected in their wake: thousands upon millions of pages of paper in blinding black Sino-English type.
"Kaylee!", Reynolds screamed. "Full stop and shut those intake valves! We're being intercepted and about to enter a tax code hole!"
"I'm on it, Capn," she responded, once fully pulled away from Simon's full physical examination of her body in sick bay. It seemed a cruel time for the Captain to force his withholding of his newfound affection for her, but not even love was exempt from the ultimate forces in the 'Verse. They'd cheated Death, but now, it seemed, they were about to face Taxes.
----
"I've taken just about enough of your gorram Alliance bullshit," Reynolds stormed.
His transmission produced no visual display of his new nemesis, but only a scrolling on the viewer of a constant stream of numbers- 80SS, 179 (circular PR), 501(c)(3), 1040, 1099, 1099-C, 1099-R, on and on and on, hypnotically. River began to tense. Mal, seeing this, began to worry.
Finally, after an interminable time on hold, a voice replied.
"This is Commissioner Everson. I claim a lien on this ship in the name of Alliance Revenue for failure to pay sales tax on purchase, for unreported income from illegal activities, for filing of fraudulent claims for credits against Alliance taxation on account of taxes allegedly paid to the Nation of Jaynetown, and for attempting to file a joint return with another man's wife- several other mens' wives, in fact- on YOUR tax return. Prepare to be boarded."
The mention of his name raising Jayne from his drunken stupor, he raced to the bridge and for the first time in the story arc showed genuine fear. "I thought River'd taken care of all them Reavers," he said. "But this is a far worse fate than them, Capn. We've got....Revenooers!"
----
"Cut....the....audio," River whispered tersely.
"Consider it cut. What are you up to?"
"I have a plan," she replied. "Just stall them a bit."
Reynolds toggled the audio and stammered.... "I realize, and I recognize, that we have indeed seen gain from our activities. We have sought shelter in the wrong places. And in our return to known Havens, we've relied too heavily on Book value and not spent nearly enough time in the fair market."
(A nudge from River- this one fortunately breaking no bones- told Mal her plan, whatever it was, was ready.)
"I know the history, Commissioner," she said. "This is how the government got Al Capone. It's how you broke most of the late 20th century mob. But you didn't contemplate our knowing about the ultimate weapon, much less having it, much less being ready to use it."
A blinding flash of keystrokes flew in the wake of the young genius. "Here it comes."
Across the short but icy blackness of space between Serenity and the Alliance Revenooers, a single double-sided page flew, impacting just above the Commissioner's skull.
"Shit!" came the reply from his command ship. "They fired a 4868 at us! We have to leave them alone for six months now!"
The fleet turned on its heels as each retreated into its own tax bracket.
----
Reynolds smiled at his bothersome protege. "River, you just earned your pay for the week. Now get your ass down and fill out a W-4 so I don't get hit with a 100% penalty on your withholding."
Kaylee reopened the intake valves and headed back to Simon's arms. "Mrs. Simon Tam," she muttered dreamily. "Married, filing jointly."
Zoe merely looked out the window and thanked the gods that the estate tax repeal had been made permanent. Wash had never been good at estate planning.
Jayne finished filling out fake W-2s for Vera so he'd continue to be able to claim her as a dependent.
And Joss contemplated the tax advantages of forming another production partnership for a prequel.