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*Bell drips dry, sitting on a counter she contemplates her options. Which were rather grand since she couldn't die. She decides to do something much like her mother, cause trouble, to the point were she was just a bother. She could fake her own death and walk away free. Gathering her aura in her hands she melts the showerhead and knobs to scrap. The bathroom begins to rapidly fill with water. Bell merely looks innocent and twiddles her toes, waiting for the room to fill.*

*Bell in a quick movement dove into the water, swimming with great agility she rips down the shower curtain and moves with the wave of water leaving through the door. She stands shakily and wraps the shower curtain around herself. Slipping and sliding, she keeps her wet curls out of her eyes as she runs to the controls. She simply begins to pound at the control panel.* Screw you!

~In space...~

With all the focus and effort being put onto the Citadel as of late, it was little surprise that KB had ventured out into calling a favor from an old friend or two. His days as a 'pirate' had given him a couple of connections, and in the time that he'd faced his lover building her own ship, he had to built a vessel of memory and emotion.

A combat ship, designed to blow apart every c**k-sucking cloaked piece of pilferring pirate s**t in the universe.

The 5 objects that had risen from the planet as of late had so far baffled the waiting ship one that stood only a bit off from the planet boldly. No real stealth ability to the vessel, but rather only sheer power and a casual undertone of historical reference. The scanning ability however was top-knotch, due to a pirate's usual affinity for cloaking or trying to hide in gaseous clouds and whatnot.

Still, the crew had yet to pinpoint the location of the 5 objects. The main cause of which had been thir scanners hitting spikes and pitches of magical energy, which threw most of the higher-tech gear out the window. The lower-tech stuff wasn't much use due to it's navigational importance and lack of ability to disect a cloaking device's parameters. Until the magic of the planet had been subdued, they ability to see the orbiting objects was slight.

They would however suffice to spot T's rocket breaking away from the grips of gravity. Interested by this sudden discovery, the crew had forwarded the vessel to the Captain, who had decided to take a casual interest in the capsule. Their sensors would remain locked on T's rocket as long as it remained within range, which would be a considerable distance.

HERITAGE stood poised for either pursuit or attack, depending on the fickle whims of it's Captain. The actions of the capsule would dictate the movement of the capital ship. Were it to move outside the sensor range, chances were that the waiting ship would follow, if only for a time.

(( Squee-like, yo. ))

Grumbling in impatience, Truinthil shook his head. "We do not have time for petty games. Release the wire and get into a room. Now." His tone wasnt of anger, but it wasnt gentle either. He had just felt something wash over him. It was something completely different than anything he had felt in centuries. Incredibly faint as it was to his senses, he could still remember the feeling of radar bouncing off his body. The ship had been picked up on some form of radar technology. Where it was, what it was, or who it was were all variants that Truinthil had no knowledge of at this point, but he didnt plan to stick around to find out. Luckily for them, this wasnt just the average rocket capsule from the days of old. He had borrowed a bit of alien technology back then and had had it modified. This ship was small, but it was fast. "I will not repeat myself again. Behave and get into a room. Now."

Within seconds he was back in the cockpit and opened up a small panel. It was a risky shot, seeing as how such technology had a habit of rendering ships useless for hours at a time sometimes, but he was willing to take it. Muttering a curse under his breath he hit the button revealed by the panel and for a moment nothing happened. The engines hummed to a stop and all seemed to be utterly still. Then with a massive roar and the sensation of being hurtled through space at speeds far surpassing that of light, the ship vanished from the sight of the earth. Wormhole harnessing technology, borrowed from aliens, was useful if not always entirely reliable. With luck the ship would come out of the wormhole in tact and still running. If not, he would have to worry about being found by either the people he just left behind or by unfriendlies in the part of space the ship was now headed to.

*Bell looks dumbfounded and drops the wire. Holding the shower curtain tightly to her flesh she falls back into the nearest room and stumbles onto the bed. She quickly exchanges the wet shower curtain for a warm smooth sheet from the bed. Huddling near the headboard of the bed she stares at her toes. Was her enemy's enemy her friend or just yet another cruel enemy? Both possibilities plagued her incessantly.*

Child's play.

If only the Captain had the intention to simply destroy T and his meager vessel, perhaps the course of history would've changed for the better. Perhaps, the death of the two occupants would herald a new time for the BC, ceasing the actions of one powerful being and spurring the action of an enraged sibling. Still, as it stood the two seemed destined to survive, for as the lone probe broke free some distance from the vessel from the clutches of 'impossible' speeds of travel, it regarded the surrounding area in a fashion completely suiting of a dismembered eye. Objectively.

Hardly amused, the sleepy looking Captain regarded his bridge with dismay. He hardly seemed worthy of his position, though such a inaccurate assumption had been disproven time and time again. He watched lazily the actions of his crew, watched how they failed where he could excel without even a slight measure of self-application. If only he could be everywhere at once, he'd have spaced the lot of them when he first took the mighty ship.

"One to Two and Three to Four, march the crew on out the door, Five to Six and all that s**t don't forget to hang the kids, Eight and Nine cause I can't count watch these idiots try to figure it out..." He mumbled lazily to himself, meeting the worried faces of the bridge crew with that same sleepy demeanor, despite the fact that they knew him to be quite serious. The threat of mutiny hung strongly in the bridge, though they all knew they would'nt be able to stop him from destroying them all outright in a moment's notice.

All in due time.

"To probe Four! Step on it and call back the other rice crispies, tis time to interrogate our forerunner, in all his almighty glory!" The Captain shouted, sarcasm and seriousness biting and grating into each other in bitter dominance over the lifeless voice. Being locked in mortal combat did his intentions clash, the invitation to lunch for the pod's crew holding it's own against the image of the small capsule being instantly wiped away by a barrage of weaponry.

And so the ship turned with grace, and in a brief flash left the sky of the planet below with a tiny twinkle that would likely remain unoticed by all. Off to pursue T's little ship, to reclaim the small probe that scuttled along behind them impassively.

Growling at himself impatiently, Truinthil turned to and from various monitors that displayed engine status, hull status, and various other readings about the ship. What he was paying attention to most of all was the rather large vessel approaching at a rather fast rate. Maybe it was friendly or maybe it was not so. He had no idea what could have changed in the thousands of years since he had last been in this region of space. All allies he could have made back then, or at least that the original could have made, may be long deceased and their legacies forgotten. It was a bold move to come here. He would soon find out just how bad an idea it may have been.

*Bell remains cuddled into the sheets. Hopefully she could persuade her captor to not lock her up. Her violet eyes darken and she nibbles on her bottom lip. She taps her bare hip with a manicured nail. This situation was getting stickier each moment.*