Anyol walks through the corridors and smells that his tail has brought friends and they're waiting to ambush him. Feeling the need for some caution about the situation, he taps on a device at his hip and turns on the battery and then proceeds to put on a thin barrier around himself. Not enough to really do too much for him, but enough to probably save his life and give him enough of a reaction time to survive and not strong enough to burn through his battery or alert them that's he's on the defensive. When they step around the corner he recognizes them all instantly. They're all members of the human delegation that had recently arrived on the station. He considers his options and decides for the time being that it's best to feign ignorance of the fact they had been following him and assume nothing is wrong.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Anyol asks. "If you need to arrange a meeting I can send in a call for my assistant to check my schedule."

"Now's fine. It won't take long for what we want to discuss," one of the humans smirk, cracking their knuckles in the process.

"Ah, intimidation tactics. Fair enough. I don't suppose telling you that that is not how things are done on this station is going to help the matter much, right?"

"We are sick and tired of everyone telling us that! We are here to make sure that the job gets done. We were specifically chosen by our party to see to it that our interests are met and that all you inferior species are put into your places. And so you are going to agree to our terms whole-handedly or we shall be forced to exercise some aggressive negotiation tactics against you and make you see the error of your ways. So what shall it be, fluffy?"

"I think my answer shall simply be this," Anyol says as he brings his hands upwards, closes his eyes and snaps his fingers. He unleashes a very bright spark in the air, bright enough to still hurt slightly even through his closed eyes, but it does the trick, the humans all cry out and clutch at their eyes, giving Anyol the space to make a break for it. He still considers himself to be a skilled swordsman, but he doesn't have his sword on him at this moment, thinking it not a good gesture to make when asking for help from Bob. He might be able to take them on if he wasn't wearing the silver restrictor cuffs. They weren't wearing any so not likely to be very skilled at magic at all. If he didn't have the cuffs he might have just sealed him in his barrier all the way and just let them all exhaust themselves as he slowly drains the room of all heat and call for support of the Guardians. Direct fighting between delegates is forbidden, for precisely this kind of reason. But to complain about them to the Guardians he first has to survive this encounter and the best way to survive any fight is to simply not be in one. He is not someone who seeks out conflict.

It doesn't take long for them to have recovered enough to give chase as well. A nice advantage of drawing their fury is that they're shouting, making it very easy to tell how far behind they are. He sees a small group of people taking up most of the path up ahead and decides to get around them by simply jumping over them. Low gravity plus a Sym magic assisted jump makes short work of clearing the crowd. But he knows they would have taken into consideration he might run and would have also called in some support from others of the human delegates or their allies. And unfortunately, Bob is located in the human sector of the station, which means his ability to get some allies of his own will take far longer than it would for the humans to corner. His mind quickly begins to figure out where would be his best place to go. They'll be far less capable of doing anything if he can find some Guardians to come to his aid. And then there is the issue of where to find some Guardians. He looks at the walls to get an idea of where specifically he's heading and gets an idea and starts changing his course, choosing to stay around moderately open corridors.




Anyol looks around for an escape and finds a pair of large doors up ahead and the sounds and smells of a bunch of people inside. Grinning at finding the door he creates a quick little barrier right behind him and then uses a bit more Sym magic to push the door open. He knows that it won't take them long to get past his barrier, but it should but him enough time and make sure they can't take any pot shots at him in the process. He rushes in and closes the door quickly behind him and tries to compose himself quickly. He can already see some Guardians that are eying him quite severely and one of them even making their way to cut him off from getting further into the room before a human shouts off to him. Anyol smiles and waves back and the Guardian backs off for a moment, but when the door opens again they go back on the alert and face the new intruder. The humans that had been chasing him see the Guardian as well as the others nearby, and quickly back off. The Guardian frowns but doesn't give chase. They do, however move to close the door again before returning to their original post.

"Anyol, old friend. So good of you to join us," the human says. "I didn't think that you were at all interested in this particular ceremony."

"I'll admit, Carver," Anyol shrugs a bit embarrassed, "I was never actually intending on coming. It's not my religion and it never really felt right to join in on a celebration to someone else's religion. But well, the human politicians weren't going to take me just doing my own thing and were looking to force my cooperation with their idiocy."

"And you knew I had Guardians posted for this celebration." Anyol shrugs sheepishly. "It's all good, my friend. This is a celebration to all life, not just the life that is convenient. So while you're here you might as well stay and participate."

Anyol smiles and then reaches down and grabs the bottle he had stashed away. "Might as well. I'm sure they'll just hang around the halls for at least a little while. And while I'm here I might as well give you this now," he hands the bottle over. "Was going to give it to you a bit later on tonight after the celebration."

"This is?" he puts it up to his eye to try and figure out what the unmarked bottle is.

"Dral Root Juice," Anyol says, getting an appreciative nod from Carver. "Real fresh too, just came back from Hydroponics to talk with Bob and figured while I was there."

"Well thanks for this, friend," Carver puts his hand onto Anyol's shoulder. "I hope he's able to figure out your crop problem. But relax, it's not like you're the only one to crash this party."

Anyol looks around and sees a feral floating around socializing with the other people here. "Why is a feral on this station?" he asks.

"No clue. But he had said he had heard about the celebration and wanted to join in on the festivities. But this is a celebration to all life and not just those that are invited so I let him in but kept an eye on him just in case. So far he seems to behaving himself. Very polite individual if I say so myself. Has shown absolutely no disrespect to anyone here, though he does seem to like pestering the Guardians. Though when I was talking to him earlier, I got the impression of what it'd be like to talk to one of Them. It's the eyes. I'd like you to watch his eyes when you talk to him and see how he observes everything going on and then tell me he couldn't possibly be one of Them."

Carver walks Anyol over to the feral, uncorking the bottle and getting a good sniff of the liquid inside. He puts his finger on the edge and tips it over just long enough to wet his finger. He then corks it back up and places his finger onto his tongue and his eyes glaze over, putting a small smile on the kitsune's face. It probably would be too big a temptation to not get at least a taste of the stuff but knows more than well enough to just start drinking it here. They reach the feral and Anyol's eyes dart quickly to the feral's badge. All low ratings, probably someone young then? But then, Anyol wonders why they'd only have one tail and yet still have the skill and precision to hover in that manner.

"Anyol, this is, um."

"Prince Mige ya Sanna, at your service," Mige bows. Anyol remembers what he was told and makes sure to watch the other's eyes, even though that is made slightly more difficult due to the weird marking over one eye. "I'll have you know if you stay for at least enough to partake in all this lovely food then the men you were running from won't cross your path for at least a week."

Anyol's eyes squint a little at that. Their expression is just so casual about the whole thing and yet act as if they know far more than they let on. "And do you have anything to do with that statement?"

"No," Mige shrugs, "just simple logic is all. The amount of time it'd take you to eat would be enough that they'll simply get bored of waiting for you and move on. And then their schedules won't allow them to go into your sector for at least a week."

Anyol watches Mige's eyes, trying to make sense of the scope of what was said. As it means not only did the feral know who was chasing him even before he arrived in this room but also knew what they'd be doing days later and without even seeing who they are. At least with Ret it made sense when he knew everything. Ret had a network of spies who worked for him to keep him informed of everything so Ret probably would have had the schedules of the people that were chasing him. But Ret wouldn't have simply stated it so simply and most definitely would not have said it as if it were of nothing of importance.

"So, did you know anyone on the Boleron?" Anyol asks.

Mige's eyes darken just slightly at the question. A slight dropping of the façade and from looking at those eyes Anyol would almost definitely have to agree with Carver. The childlike eyes the feral has most of the time must be a mask they've built up over all the years. His question shook that mask off for just a moment and allows the kitsune to see how the feral really is. Of someone measuring up everyone and everything all at once. And then the eyes went right back to normal. Such control would very much imply someone very similar to how They operate.

"No," Mige says without a single hesitation. "I'm not that travelled. But it's a celebration of life and that's always a good thing to celebrate, right? Why not just crash it, even if I don't believe their religion or know anyone involved. My job allows for such flexibility."

"What is it that you do, if I might ask?"

"Oh, this and that. Mostly people pay me to do things they don't want other people doing."

"That's not a very clear explanation on what you do," Anyol says in response.

Mige smiles, "now where would be the fun in giving the whole truth? They weren't told and so I'm simply not going to say unless someone figures it out on their own. Until then, I get to be simply an annoyance that seems confusing to them. And with that I'm going to leave you for now, you have a new friend coming in the door." Mige floats off away from the two.

"So what do you think?" Carver asks as he turns to the door to see if they were telling the truth or not.

"Definitely think he might be one of Them. Kind of scary, to be honest."

The door opens, causing Anyols head to tilt slightly to the side and a lone individual steps in. An Asteral if he isn't mistaken, one of the species from the Fringewards. They're actually here without an evo suit, settling for just a breather around the gills in their neck that would filter out the air they can't breathe. The otherwise somewhat rat-like individual looks around and Carver moves to go and greet the new person while the Guardians do a quick search to make sure they aren't carrying any weapons. Once cleared he looks up and sees the symbol for the Language of Intent being active and then puts away his translation orb.

"Can I help you?" Carver asks as he approaches the Asteral. "I don't think anyone from your sector would be all that interested in our religion."

"Oh, I'm not," the other person says, showing off that very strange state of theirs. Whereas most species have their vocal cords connected to their mouth, for the Asteral, their respiratory and digestive tracts are completely separate, meaning not only does their mouth not move when they talk, but their voice comes from the gills in their neck instead. "But I am quite interested in the story about the ship in particular. My name is Dorr Yiello, at your service," Yiello bows slightly.

"Carver Dureslo. So how much do you already know about the Boleron?"

"More than enough and yet at the same time not enough. Medical ship missiled to hell after a battle. Survived three days before rescue with engines and cockpit destroyed and not a single fatality. But the reports I've been able to find and translate don't mention who was responsible. Do you know if any Corewards were in the area? No, you wouldn't have a battle near a Coreward, that'd be stupid. Far too likely for a stray shot to hit them and then you have an angry Coreward getting on your case. Hmm."

"Wait, you're saying you think a person is responsible for everyone surviving? Our scientists have already been over the data, there is no way that anyone could have pulled that off deliberately."

"Well, for a normal person, probably not," Dorr nods slowly. "But for a Divine User, taxing, but doable. Any witness reports of the attack and three days afterwards of someone with white eyes?"

"What do you mean Divine User?" Anyol asks.

"Oh, right. You lot probably wouldn't know. Your kind wouldn't really have much of a record of stuff like this yet, especially since it isn't something one can learn how to do. But Sym, Dis and Con magic all function by manipulating energy and not-energy from one state to the other to do work. Powerful, but inefficient. Divine Users convert life energy and matter into divine energy to do work, makes their eyes glow white when they use it. Very obvious. Far stronger, but far more taxing. With enough of a power supply a Sym or Dis mage could keep going for days with no harmful effects. If it was a Divine User that saved your ship, I imagine they probably ended in a much more sickly and weakened state than when the attack hit. I had thought that the reports implied a Divine User with a defensive ability. It wouldn't have been a guarantee to have no deaths, but it would have been possible. Just create a barrier strong enough to withstand the missile's damage and protect the crew and the life support system long enough for everyone to get into their infirmary. Then seal it up tight. Then all they'd need to do is periodically reach out and provide power to the life-support system enough to purify the air and that'd do it."

"If they could do all that, why not just stop the missiles from hitting the ship?"

"Might not have been able to or might have known that they'd run out of strength long before the enemy ran out of missiles. Or didn't want to. Without being able to ask the Divine User directly I can only guess. Thus why I wanted to know if there was any confirmation that it was one or not."

"So how do you know about these Divine Users?"

"Because with the Consortium it's public knowledge. There are like two families in the Core that are Divine Kings. They are able to gift to others the ability to use Divine abilities themselves. A few of the Coreward captains have one. I has hoping you had more determinative information about the matter, possibly of something noticed but not understood. But it would be an outstanding revelation if it turned out that it was the result of a Divine User. Because if it wasn't the Consortium involved and none of us would have had the ability, then it means that there at least was a Divine King in this region of the galaxy."

"What do you mean Divine King?"

"A Divine King is someone who is born with the ability to use the Divine energy and will usually pass it on to their children. If you can find a King, then their children and quite likely parents have it. A Divine King also has the ability to pass this ability off to others, to impart an ability to someone else. These are the Divine Users. It is not hereditary for them and a King can also remove this ability. Do you think I might be able to get a list of everyone who was on board? I know it's not public knowledge so that people can't go after the families of the survivors. But if I could get at that list I could start doing some research to see if any of them are a User or a King."

"I make no guarantees, but I can see what I can do," Carver says, somewhat stunned at the potential revelation that had saved his family. And though it does question slightly his religion that a person did it and not an act of the divine, it would be something to consider. "I wouldn't be able to give it to you tonight. It may take me a few days. Is there any place I can contact you?"

"Oh, right. Of course. Of course," Dorr says quickly before pulling out a data pad. On seeing it, Carver reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his own as well. Dorr points his device at Carver and types something in it quickly. "Here's where I'm living. I'll get started on researching the people as soon as I get it. Well, when not on the job. It may take me awhile, especially since it's been so long ago. But if my theory is true, that there was a Divine King in this portion of the galaxy, my colleagues are absolutely going to freak."

"Are you going to stay for the celebration itself?" Anyol asks once that is done.

"No, I think not," the Asteral shrugs. "I wanted information. Human foods don't sit well in my stomach. Never had. And don't believe in the religion. Anyway, if you have no definitive answer for me now, then I'll be off. Have a nice night, gentlemen," the rat-like creature turns and heads back towards the door after putting away his data pad.

"Well that's a thing that happened," Anyol says as they watch him go. "What do you think about what he's suggesting?"

"Don't know. May be lying, may be telling the truth. Could be the Corewards have people thinking they are able to do more than what is physically possible. We'll see. But for now, let's eat."