Title: Death and Taxes

By: Cassia

Email: cassia_a@hotmail.com

Category: Um... is there a category for utterly brainless drivel?

Rating:  G, Sooooo G

Spoilers: None whatsoever. 

Disclaimer: All recognizable Star Wars characters are the

exclusive property of George Lucas.  All others belong to me.

I have no official permission to use these characters, but

I'm not being paid for it either, so that's okay.

Feedback:  Um... if this deserves any!

Archive: Early Years, Jedi Apprentice and anybody else if they actually want it.

Time Frame: Unimportant.  Some time while Obi-Wan is Qui-Gon's Padawan.


Summary: Qui-Gon has to file Intergalactic Republic Income Tax.  Ah... that's about it.


Note: Gotta forgive me for this stupid, boring little fic.  See, I have worked in a Income Tax Preparation office for the past four-five years and it's that time of year again...

I had a slight brain implosion and this was the result. 

I'll be sending a real story soon, maybe even now.


Things bracketed by *'s are *italic*.




-Death and Taxes-



It all started rather innocently when Master Qui-Gon Jinn received notice that he had not filed his Intergalactic Republic Taxes in the past twelve years. 


"I didn't know Jedi had to pay taxes," Obi-Wan observed. 


"Neither did I," Qui-Gon shook his head.  Calling the number on the form to find out what was going on, the Jedi waited on hold for approximately three lifetimes before a person finally came on the line, spewing out their name and ID number in string of sounds so fast it was impossible to translate.


Explaining his situation, Qui-Gon told the operative on the other end of the call that there must have been some mistake.  Jedi did not have to pay taxes.


"Everyone pays taxes sir," the agent told him in a no-funny-business voice.  "That's one of the two things you can count on, death and taxes."


"What a charming way to remember," Qui-Gon murmured under his breath.


"I am still confused," he said aloud to the agent.  "It says here that I have not filed in the past twelve years.  To my knowledge I have *never* filed."


There was a short pause while the person on the other end brought up the desired data.  "It says here that the last return you filed was in '06.  You claimed 12 dependants just as you did the five previous years and received a great deal of Republic Aid."


"WHAT?" Qui-Gon exclaimed in surprise, causing Obi-Wan to look up from his homework.


"Who filed that?  I didn't!"


"Sir, it has your personal ID number on it, although there's a note that the aid-credit was to be sent in care of a person named Xanatos..."


Qui-Gon ran his hand down his face.  Great.  Just great.  That added tax fraud to the list of things his former Padawan had left him saddled with.


 "All right, how do I get this cleared up?" he ground out, trying to remain pleasant.


"If the old forms were in error, you will need to file amended returns for them as well as filing for the years missed," the agent said helpfully.


"How do I do that?" Qui-Gon sighed, resigned.


"You can obtain forms to do it yourself..." the agent said hesitantly.


"Bad idea," Qui-Gon shook his head.


"Or, you could go to a preparation service and have it done for you."


"Better idea."






That was how Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ended up in the Accounting, Business and Preparation center a few days later.


"Master," Obi-Wan said as they approached the office of the preparer they had made an appointment with.  "I am still confused.  How can we pay Republic income tax when we don't make any income?"


Qui-Gon just shrugged.  "Never try to figure out the government.  It will give you a headache."


Their preparer was a friendly lady with brown hair.  They explained the situation and she helped them complete the amended forms.


Obi-Wan whistled at the astronomical figure that Qui-Gon now owed the Republic collections office.  "Master, I think you're in trouble..."


"Thank you Obi-Wan, I couldn't have figured that out alone..." the Master murmured sarcastically.


"Well, now, but these returns were filed illegally, without your knowledge, correct?" the preparer asked helpfully.


"Correct," Qui-Gon nodded.


"Well then, let's see what we can do about this..." She then helped the Jedi fill out forms to start proceedings to avoid Qui-Gon's having to go to prison for tax fraud on the years that had been filed in his name, but without his knowledge. 


After two hours, they were finally brought up to the present.  "Okay," the preparer said, commendably cheerful after slogging through the mess.  "That takes us to this year.  How much did you earn?"


"I don't earn money.  My services are rendered free.  The Jedi supplies our needs."


"All right... so it's a non-profit organization.  You still need to figure up the amount provided to you."


Qui-Gon did. 


"Was there any tax with held from that?"




"Ooh," the lady shook her head.  "Not good.  Let's see how we can bring this down a little.  What deductions can you claim?  Do you have any dependants?"


"Well..." Qui-Gon considered.  "There's Obi-Wan."


"You're son?"


"My Apprentice."


"Okay, that would go under foster child then, but the new laws this year will only let you claim him if he was placed with you by a recognized agency."


"Placed?" Qui-Gon puzzled for a moment.  "I suppose you could say that."


"Business expenses?  Do you have receipts for meals, lodging and transportation while on the job?"


Qui-Gon looked incredulous.  "The places we end up do not usually issue receipts," he said calmly.


"Do cells, detention camps and refugee posts count as lodging?" Obi-Wan wondered quietly.


The preparer was extremely helpful and in the end, Qui-Gon ended pleasantly back where he was when he was blissfully ignorant of the need for all this: owing nothing.


"Well, that worked out," Qui-Gon sighed, stretching when they FINALLY found themselves outside once more. 


"I have a headache," Obi-Wan rubbed his temples.


"Me too, but we'd have more of one if we had to go explain to the Council why we need them to pay our Income Tax bills."


Obi-Wan nodded, then brightened.  "Master?  I just thought of one good thing about this.  We won't have to do it again for another whole year."  His voice contained distinct traces of sarcasm.


"Death and taxes..." Qui-Gon muttered, wondering if there were more similarity then he thought.  He sighed.  "There's something to that.  But at least you only die once!"






Okaaayyyy... now that you're all thoroughly bored, I've got another little fic for you that's a wee bit more interesting, or at least I hope so!  :D

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