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After the interrogation Anon couldn't really get her mind to rest and eventually just started wandering the station once she was off-duty and ended up in a new location, a kind of bar in the human quarter. Anon paces around the bar, somewhat appreciative of the fact that there is almost no one in the area besides the bartender and a single human. But unfortunately, the human is watching her rather intently with a bemused expression. After the confession and no further reports of any of the dolls having made it into the public she should feel rather content with the state of things. Everything had been mostly dealt with except for the source of the funding, but that'd be well outside her jurisdiction. The station was now safe from another threat and without a single person getting harmed in the process. But there was something nagging on her that wouldn't let go of her. It wouldn't be so much Ret's strategy of using a pilot to deliver the message that would bug her like this. Ret always had plans within plans and Anon had decided it was usually best to not put too much thought into the why Ret would behave in certain ways. But even still, there was something she couldn't shake. And the human watching her was getting on her nerves. Eventually she stopped and turned to face him. Mia was taking her pacing more as a game than anything else, going about running back and forth from one end of the bar to the end, almost to the extent of launching herself off one wall to the other. And though it didn't really match her mood it did help a little bit.

"What?" she eventually demands, knowing the Language of Intent spell was in effect in the bar, which might in part be why it isn't as popular as others.

"If I may be so bold," Eric says in response, "but pacing is not going to give you the answer you want and will only serve to frustrate you more."

"And what do you know?" She asks while her tails flick about irritably.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but you've just successfully avoided a massive catastrophe that could have easily killed hundreds of people. And yet there is something bothering you. Why else would you decide to randomly head to a different bar than you normally go to and then pace around. You're trying to have your feet do the thinking for you and think a change in direction is a good way to get some fresh perspective on the matter."

Anon doesn't really respond, but she does stop and take a much more thorough look at him. And since Anon did finally stop Mia decides to jump onto one of the tables so that she can watch what's going on between the two individuals. In some regards Anon is grateful that the barkeep is as lenient as he is being regarding Anon's familiar and would probably have asked them to leave if it were far more crowded. That he knew who she was isn't that hard to guess. There weren't too many silvers on the station, let along ones with as many tails. And then there's the fact that she was still in her uniform, just with the jacket opened up and her badge of office having been put away.

"Just who are you?" She asks.

"Eric Elutin, at your service," he says with a bow. "Congruent Magic Master by trade, though in my line of work I've found that I have become extremely competent and skilled when it comes to reading people, or figuring out puzzles. I'm pretty sure I can guess what's causing you to try and drive a groove in the floor."

"Oh?"

"Rather simple, really. You're wondering what the mythic got out of the arrangement."

"And how would you know about that?"

"People talk and I listen," he says with a shrug. "And when this Ret person not only plays someone in Clairvoyance but also loses, it attracts quite a bit of attention. All I know about the situation is that Ret played a mythic in the game with a human in attendance. Ret lost and the prize delivered was a statement of some kind. The human relayed this statement, leading to you and the Guardians successfully stopping a terrorist act. But that is not why you are here. The thing that has you bothered is what the reward meant to this mythic. It was his prize after all. And from your expression it's clear to me that that both was the case and that you didn't even realize it was. But without knowing what the statement was, I cannot fathom what prize the mythic was awarded."

Anon frowns while staring at him, a couple of her tails twitching in annoyance but she composed herself quickly enough. It made sense. It was something she was aware of from the start and it would be something to think about, the notion that the game wasn't with the pilot but a third party and delivered to that third party as well. But that third party would have no real interest in the message, especially since she hadn't heard of any other reports from anyone else about the incident. "In a few days a shipment of Jhanfo will be arriving from Raeshael space," Anon answers after a moment, finding no real need to keep the statement restricted since the relevant information is already taken care of.

"Jhanfo, that's a very interesting word to be in that statement," Eric responds, teasing Mia with a grape. Mia naturally falls right for it and starts trying to get it from him, seeing no real threat from the human or any sense of malice. If anything the human seemed more amused than anything. The worst she got from him was a sense of someone being given a toy to unravel.

"It was the word the habenceun use to describe phasic energy."

"Technically it means 'the thing that isn't there,'" he corrects, "it's just most use the word as an equivalent to phasic energy since the habenceun don't really care about magic at all. They find it a waste of their time. No, what's interesting is that that word is there at all. If they were using a translation orb it would have translated the word anyway or approximated it based on whatever word the Jhereshii have that's closest to the word. For the word to be present with three different species involved we're talking Language of Intent. And the thing is, with Language of Intent a word is only present is if that is the word the Jhereshii intended on using. Meaning it was a deliberate choice for that word, rather than just what the word means. Hmm," Eric rolls the grape down the counter as he scratches at his chin with the other hand, Mia chasing after it. "I wonder what the Fringe have to do with all of this?"

"What?" Anon asks, confused as to how the conversation turned in that regard.

"Well we're talking about a mythic, a human and a Jhereshii, with a habenceun word meaning 'the thing that isn't there' and also specifically mentioning the Raeshael. Of all the major parties on the station, only the Fringewards were excluded. Makes me wonder if the Jhereshii was deliberately choosing words to suggest the mythic check out a Fringeward container while having you check one from Raeshael space. Assuming of course the mythic could piece together the meaning for the statement. But considering they did beat Ret in Clairvoyance."

"Mia! Up!" Anon shouts quickly over to her familiar. Mia responds, still holding the grape in her mouth. Anon then half-runs out the door, making sure that the scanner catches the chip in her eye so that she's paid for her drink.

"Well, um. Glad I could be of service?" Eric asks as he watches her run out, an amused expression on his face.

After leaving the bar Anon makes her way to one of the main hubs to the station that all of the Guardians are allowed exclusive access to in order to better protect and monitor everyone on the station. For privacy's sake there are absolutely no cameras in the home residences of most of the people here. But there are cameras in just about everywhere else on the station they could tap into. Further, that didn't change the fact that they did have the means to monitor everyone, if only from knowing the rough location of each chip. They would be able to still tell who entered what residence and when, even if they wouldn't be allowed to know what they did after entering. Anon heads over to the Guardian in charge of this particular hub. As they need to be able to communicate outside of the room, the Language of Intent on this particular hub is currently disabled, though some of the larger ones do have it there, even if not in use. After knocking and getting her orb to calibrate against their human in the hub she asks her question.

"Have there been any break-ins reported from any of the shipping freighters in the last few days?"

"Quite possibly, we get a lot of traffic. Can you narrow it down any?"

"How about from Fringe worlds?"

The other Guardian types into the system for a few moments. "Ah yes, here we go. Yes, there was a transport from one of the Fringeward scavenger ships that reported a break-in yesterday. But the ship had no registered cargo and didn't list anything as having been actually stolen. But as it was not considered a massive issue we simply did a routine search to make sure nothing on the ship was tampered with and then cleared them to leave once they unloaded their cargo. There were no particular flags on anything they were bringing over so we didn't think anything of it. Why? Was there something we should have been paying attention to? Was there another threat coming from the Fringe?"

"No," Anon says with a shrug. "There's nothing for us to be concerned with. There was a concern I was interested in on a matter that had no relevance to the actual station. I had some intel that someone might have tried to do something with something of one the Fringeward ships. That someone did break into one does sort of confirm that assumption. But with no real registered cargo it means they don't want people to know where the stuff is coming from. And if they refuse to admit that anything was stolen, then it's quite likely the thing that was stolen was also something they couldn't admit to it without fear of reprisal."

"Are you concerned they might have tried bringing in Coreward Tech?"

"No, if they were trying to steal Coreward Tech we would have found out beforehand, especially after the last altercation with the Consortium and everyone knows to not bring that stuff here. Not to mention they wouldn't even acknowledge to being broken into. No, it was something that we would consider legal and not even bat an eye at, but probably got it from a place they weren't supposed to, either scavenging a derelict from one of the other races' territories or from a colony when the people there weren't looking. Effectively stealing something that wasn't theirs to begin with. But if nothing was reported to having been stolen and the ship in question having already left even if we were to apprehend the person responsible, not only would we not be able to charge them with anything but wouldn't even be able to prove what it is that they took."

"So is there anything you want us to do about it?"

"No, that should be fine. I have a pretty good idea who broke in and based on the intel they likely stole something that was important to them, if not something that belonged to them in the first place. And there'd be no way to prove they committed a crime in the first place anyway. So I guess, as you were," Anon says, heading back out of the room.

She had an answer now, or at least part of an answer. Though she wouldn't be able to absolutely confirm it without a great deal more evidence and likely confronting the two in question she had an answer that satisfied her. If it was the feral she thinks it was, they likely wouldn't admit it even if they did steal something, but that there was a theft is at least enough of an answer that she can feel things make some sort of sense, even if dealing with annoying people that like to play word games with each other.

Ret sits in his chair quite comfortably in one of the many farms on the station. A station this large can't exist and feed all its population without it. Scattered throughout the station there's probably about a third of the total area being devoted just to providing all the food that the people consume on a regular basis. There were further farms on the planet below, but were far more strictly regulated. It was a big business feeding so many mouths. But on the station it was quite doable for any ordinary person to just buy a patch of land and as long as they made use of it could grow anything legal they wanted. He had also made sure to pick a spot that had absolutely no cameras watching them. He was able to confirm that a Fringeward shipping freighter was recently robbed, one that had just recently been in the system that the planet Jhraashjerei was located. And as they are scavengers it made perfect sense that they would start at the location of the highest wealth. He smiles slightly after a little while when he can feel the telltale signature of the Language of Intent being applied to him.

"So, my little friend," he states, not even moving to look at the other, "what's the verdict? Do I have to make a point of avoiding you at all costs?"

Ret doesn't hear any quip or response of any sort. Yet he can still feel himself under the influence of being under the Language of Intent spell. Curious he turns around to go and look to see what the situation is. And he sees the fox just floating in the air, staring off into the fields and not making any comment one way or another.

"Fair enough, the bet did not say you had to admit to the condition. Only that I had to cease all interaction if it wasn't worth your while. Though, at the very least, would you be willing to at least do me the favor of saying if it was the genuine article?"

Mige continues to stare off into the fields in front of him. Ret is curious as to this course of action. Eventually the fox sighs and then speaks up.

"It was real," Mige says, still not turning to look at Ret. "The statue was my father's pride and joy. Helped build it himself. Had said that anything worth having was worth putting in the effort. And when I was young and stupid, I was playing around where I shouldn't have and accidentally broke it. I made sure to fix the statue. Did a really good job at it, too. One of my best patch jobs even to this day. Unless you know what to look for you can't even tell it was ever broken. I never told anyone. If my father knew he never said. It was never reported anywhere. There is no way that a counterfeit would ever make that flaw. And yet, there it was."

"So what did you do with the crew of that freighter?" Ret asks, disseminating the information given him.

"Nothing. They never even noticed that I was there. I can't exactly fault them. With me being the last and me not being there, my planet is little more than a forgotten ruin marked as being under quarantine. If they were willing to risk what that would mean to scrounge up things no one is using I will not act against that. Doesn't mean that I won't simply reacquire what was rightfully mine, though. And since they never listed their cargo, even if they saw me with it they can't claim I stole it, not without alerting everyone that they went to a quarantined off planet in an empire that didn't belong to them."

"Well that's good to hear. I look forward to more correspondence with you. These conversations can be quite enlightening."

"I'd still rather have nothing to do with you. Though on your part, did you injure your colleague too badly for displacing the part?"

Ret frowns slightly at this, not that the fox could actually see it. Just another little jab proving that the fox was just as good as he was at gathering information. All the more reason to keep an eye out on him.

"Not too much. He apologized for it quickly enough. And I can be quite generous with people when they admit their mistakes."

"Well then, I have my answer and you have yours. I'm done here."

"I look forward to you saving my life," Ret says in return.

"Not intentionally!" the fox shouts back before the spell is terminated. Ret returns to watching the fields with a smile on his face.