[member="Jack Sparrow"] [member="Faith Organa"] [member="Caius Flavian"] [member="Draco Vereen"]
Poet coughed as Sparrow offered a question that he clearly didn't want to answer. "I'm...not...." he sighed. "Look, I've got a lot to do here. Can we keep the questions a bit less...harsh?" He seemed to almost have a pleading look in his eye for a brief moment as he returned to the tablet. Keep it together, keep it together.
Tigress sat beside Poet frowning slightly. "Breathe in, PT. You can do it, kay?"
Poet rubbed his eyes and nodded as Faith asked a question less inclined to make him want to punch someone. He sighed. "I'm afraid his body wasn't in sufficient condition for physical interment. However, a small grave site will be erected on Cartao, which you are all welcome to visit, after I've confirmed the cutting of the tombstone," he said with a sigh.
He then looked around the room. "Mr. Sparrow, on Cartao, near the Al-Mezzet Hangar, there is a small country house where Sena...where Nick made a habit of drinking and fishing. There's a little dock for boats. You are entitled to the deed, and and the boat, and the contents of he wine cellar. I recommend the Cartesian 629, as it was a a good year for bad decisions." He tossed the former supreme chancellor a set of keys. "Nick would've thanked you for putting up with a rather cantankerous and troublesome senator. His specific instructions were that the drinks and house were from one Scoundrel to another, not from one senator to another," he said with a laugh.
He turned to the couple. Vereen and Organa. Two houses, not particularly alike in any real respect. Still, sometimes love was a strange, strange sort of thing. He smiled wistfully. "Lady Organa, Mr....Vereen." He coughed slightly. What was the guy's title. A'lor? Dragon? He didn't really understand Mandalorians, save for their love of war shanties. He chuckled. "Nick wanted to thank you, both for your work in the senate, and your friendship. He also said that in the will that his gift for you was aimed at the future, not the present, just like you two are. North of the Spaarti cloning facility on Cartao, there's a range, a few thousand acres. Mostly woods. These lands are to be held in trust, until your children become of sufficient age to hold the property," he said with a nod. He brought up the tablet. "I'm just going to quote this exactly:"
"Hello, Faith. Sorry to have to leave you lot behind. Long story short, figured you and Draken--that was his name, right? We never really talked. Anyway, he seems like the type to teach kids how to hunt and survive off the land. He can probably handle the place where I trained a couple thousand clones to do it. There's a hunting shack, but it's kinda well-hidden, so I left you a map. Hunt and fish, but don't level the place. It's good land, and the deer and geese make for a decent stew, once you figure out which mosses aren't bad for seasoning. Oh, and if you decide to fly over the place on a thranta, wear a helmet. I am not coming back form the dead to prevent further concussions. Sincerely, Nick."
Poet smiled. "Even when dead, he's still as sarcastic as ever," he wiped his eyes slightly. "Sorry, it's just...well, this." Words rarely failed poet, but they did today.
Laughingstock raised an eyebrow. "I though he was gonna give them the ranch," she mused out loud.
"No, actually, we have equal ownership in the ranch, and Tigress is getting the bikes and the shuttle," Poet said with a nod.
He then walked up to Caius, lookign him dead in the eye. "Last but not least is your gift, Senator, or should I say, Chancellor? I will quote this directly as well:"
"Caius, more than anybody, you know where I've been. Military turned governor, man of war turned man of peace. If I die in office, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to pick up where I left off." Poet set down a data-crystal. "My staff will provide you with every file and record I have, including some intelligence I've gathered on extracurricular work. It ain't much, but every bit information is a tool. You've got a career ahead of you--might as well steal some of my notes, right? Do your damnedest to leave thing better than you found them. If I can do it for the clones, you can do it for the Pubs. Regards, Sept."
Poet looked gently at Caius. "Every file we kept in the office, is in there. The exception to this is a small safe in his office, to which none of us were given the combination. Whatever's in there, it's up to you to crack it. It's behind the painting of the Cartesian capitol building. That's also yours," he said calmly. "Sept had a great deal of faith in you. I wish you well on his behalf...." Poet then coughed a little, still obviously shaken. "I believe that covers everything. Are there any further questions?" He asked, hoping that the room could stay kind, if only to keep him from breaking down.
