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[h2][color=a36209]CFA-Section 19[/color][/h2][h2][color=steelblue]Alvirstein Division:[/color][/h2][h2][color=f7941d]'Paladin'[/color][/h2]
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[b][color=steelblue]Current Deployment:[/color][/b] Jupiter's Moon, Callisto
[b][color=steelblue]Current Time:[/color][/b] 14:25 Post Meridian, Earth Standard Time, 2207.
[b][color=steelblue]Current Assignment:[/color][/b] [i]Investigation.[/i]
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Ryland would smirk as Savis did his scolding and subsequent action aboard the bridge of the Carrion.

"[color=f7941d]I guess we found the shape.[/color]"

He would smile at seeing the crew of the Carrion gather into one place in the stead of their respective corners or areas they have marked as their own 'territories', sitting further back into his chair he would take a prolonged drag of his [i]Mars Red 100[/i] brand cigarette, blowing the smoke directly upwards into the ceiling, allowing the smoke to collect in thin clouds above the inhabitants of the '[i]Carrion[/i]' before switching his concentrations from the will, to Savis, to the will again, observing both his statement and the will itself.

"[color=f7941d]If I am able to pitch my cents into this community chest, I would like to exclaim in a clock maker's detail that the will itself is flawed in the sense of searching as to why it is flawed, in particular the words-- [/color]"

Astorix would press his glove against the holographic console in front of him displaying the will, bringing up an indication marker on where he is touching, the letters that spell out [i]grave[/i].

"[color=f7941d]That make themselves stand out above the others. Heh. It also doesn't make sense that the witness to her will could most likely be her grandfather. Might be [i]his[/i] grave that is being exclaimed, if we can triangulate that position.[/color]"

Nodding to himself he would look over Savis to analyze his reaction; Ryland obviously spent a few more minutes staring at the will and any of the first-served crackpot theories surrounding the will itself, he would inhale more of the burning nicotine from his cancer-stick, blowing another cloud into the ceiling, before looking over the other crew-members.

"[color=f7941d]Please don't tell me I'm just blowing smoke here.[/color]"

He would smile at his witticism, being able to freely say something so groan-inducing in search of second-opinions from those around him seemed so relaxing to the point he couldn't help himself from stating such a horrible thing. He waited patiently for additional responses regarding the will, from those he was obligated to trust and work with as per contractual agreement with the '[i]man[/i]'.
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