View source for 5351/Intruders and Invitations

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/07/04
|Location=Summer
|Synopsis=The Flotilla chatroom has an unathorised user log in. Though she doesn't appear to have hostile intentions, rather the opposite.
|Cast of Characters=1117, 672, 632
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sending packet. Uploading 25/100.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Interference detected.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;run sombra_protocol.exe.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Connection established.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;user Sombra has entered the chatroom.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The chatroom that the Starbound Flotilla normally uses sees its second session within short time after a long time of inactivity. Except this time the user who initates the session is new, and uninvited. The dark room is empty in one moment, and the next a cloaked figure steps in, each step leaving hexagonal echoes as if stepping onto water. Raising her hands, the figure summons up a holovid screen, slender fingers spreading to creatre more screens. With ease her fingers dance across the screens, typing away in a near furious tempo as invitations are sent out.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Recall userbase. Users found. Find last IPs. Send invitations? y.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The holovid screens flare with life as the invitations are sent out to the users who were connected to this chatroom last. It shouldn't take long now...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:672|Starbound Flotilla (672)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Starbound Flotilla isn't much of a Flotilla anymore. They're one ship, with one SAIL unit. The all-purpose AI-based processing system centralizes most aspects of their computing, teleportation, and communications, though thankfully it's utterly disconnected from manual systems like life support. It's also generally not much capable of defense against Elite-level hackers at the moment. The only thing keeping them away is the idea that there's not much worth stealing; they've lost most of the Irradiance, Spellsword, and Galactian project data during the upheaval. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not much worth stealing, maybe, but there might be something worth contacting. They're currently parked in a sense, drifting in space with George on the outside in a hardsuit doing hullwork to piece it together using some recently recovered materials from Septette's homeworld. It's not much, but it's enough to get it spaceworthy for a mission. The others are at work inside, trying to get their armor in working order and ready for use. When the SAIL unit beeps the alert that its chat program has activated, they perk up, curious. Well, a few of them do, anyway.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sombra's first visitor is, well, the SAIL unit itself, actually. "Based on intrusion risk assessment, I've determined that you may have significant levels of control over this server." Says the flickery holoman, a blank and blue form that's neutral in all ways. "Due to my lacking computing power, I cannot perform any significant defense. Instead I will kindly ask that you not cause damage while you are here, as we are amid space-based repairs and it may cause unforeseen consequences with peril ratings exceeding three hundred morts. Thank you for your consideration." <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The second one is Moonfin, who prods the SAIL interface and gets the telepresence chat set. The server is tenuously connected, so the bandwidth is low, their semi-holographic forms to and from digital space are flickery and glitchy, but it's working. "Greetings, visitor. I am Haruto, a Moonfin of the Hylotl and once-captain of the SFS Connoisseur. It seems you wish to contact the Starbound Core Fleet...?" The politeness has a conspicuous tenseness, the calculated tenseness of someone who recognizes the show of power and secrecy involved in the contact, and who is making a point of being polite specifically out of that sort of respect. He folds his webbed hands in front of him. "We shall connect as we are able. How can I help you?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The arrival of the SAIL unit is met with a cant of the head of the intruder. As her hood falls slightly to the side, a calavera can be seen underneath it, lifeless eyes staring back at the neutral form. The voice that speaks is distorted, though it hints towards female. It's impossible to get a voice match on this however. Seems somebody takes their security rather seriously. "Ah, you're right about that. There's no way you're throwing me out, but don't worry... I have no mal intent. I'm just here to talk," she states with a note of humour in her voice as she waves her hand in a flourish. "It wouldn't do if your crew came to harm, that would only upset the plans I have."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With Moonfin logging in, the hacker turns to them. "Aaah, buenos dias! Yes, I do. If I merely wished your data, I would have taken it without you knowing. It's so much easier to get ahold of you all when I send out invitations like this, it's kind of you to not keep me waiting, I'm a rather busy person," she states, and unlike Moonfin there's no tension whatsoever to hear in the distorted voice. "But I will wait until you're all here."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Bringing up her hand, she summons another screen; one that shows the chat the flotilla had the other day. "I do see that you all have a voice in this, and I do wish for you all to consider my proposal. A proposal that can be beneficial to us all, amigo~" With that said, the intruder claps her hands as a digital chair appears in the middle of the chatroom, one that she sits down in, reclining with complete confidence as she crosses one leg over the other. Yes, it appears that whoever this is, she considers this chatroom to be hers for now. So much that she begins changing the settings for now. Within seconds the place turns a cool purple, the lighting becomes slightly more dim, with calaveras floating around in the distance. Chairs are summoned in front of her own, all ready for the members as they arrive.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Organics tire and sleep, but Septette never truly takes a break from her duties. It takes a handful of milliseconds from the invitation being received for her to decide to accept it, patching the strange transmission through to her radio and camera-set. In contrast to the wavering holographic forms of the Flotilla, she appears as a face on a screen: the space-age technology of the Flotilla is still a little strange to her taste. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When it switches on after a few moments, her video feed shows a black-haired lady with faintly glowing lavender eyes and a simple headset; the camera is tightly focused enough on her face that the rest of the room isn't visible. There's a sound like cutlery being sharpened as she laces her fingers together below the pan of the camera and inclines her head forwards slightly. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I'd almost forgotten this channel existed," Septette murmurs- an affable, humanizing lie. "Moonfin, to whom do we owe the pleasure?" Her voice is soft, emotive, but clearly synthetic in timbre- one could be forgiven for assuming she's using some form of vocal modulation software. Her eyes are fixed on the video transmission Sombra provides, soaking in every detail. One never knows when a stranger might let something useful slip in their slightest quirks of affect. <br> <br>

:'''{{#var:672|Starbound Flotilla (672)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pavo is the next to log in, flickering her own deep yellow form into the digital area. "Aye, matey? A proposal?" The bird flickers into resolution on the telepresence, pacing up near Moonfin and peering at the mysterious figure. "If it's business ye seek, we've little to trade. If it's services ye seek, well, we've always need of income, but ye sure as anything will find a better deal if it's something to make our little group more spaceworthy."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Moonfin nods. "My friend speaks accurately. We are certainly quite willing to hear all proposals, especially from one who demonstrates such... Significant information awareness. Of course, I shall have the others join us. Friends?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Albert grunts. His login is brief and doesn't do much. He's busy disassembling and repairing guns. Seft pings, and connects via her own actual digital interface, her own visual form in digital space being a sort of empty suit of armor. George connects via external telepresence. He's upside down, and Sombra will detect that's not a hacking thing, he's just sort of like that right now, floating upside down in space. Biteblade... Doesn't connect? No, instead she shoves her face up to the screen where Septette is transmitting. "Floran, isss alssso here! Hiiiii!" Looks like she'll be screensharing with Septette.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Moonfin smiles. "You have our attention, visitor." He says, gesturing wide to the multitude of digital presences. Then he bows. "How may the Starbound Flotilla assist you?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Once Septette has logged in and her feed appears, the hacker gestures towards the screen, flicking it towards one of the chairs. "Kind of you to join us, amiga. You may call me Sombra."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The video transmission that Sombra provides is clearly not real, but virtual. The avatar she's invaded the chatroom with will do for now. Nothing about this is real. Her appearance, her voice... all digital.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Here they all arrive one after another. Excellent. "Welcome, I'm glad you could all join in since this is something that concerns all of you. After all, it appears that you all are in need of resources, no?" The previous chat is brought up for them all to see, a transcript behind Sombra and her chair as it scrolls down in a slow tempo. "When I ran across it, I couldn't help but feel... simpático. And I wish to help you, since I could use your firepower. Especially if you wish to join the Concord."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All it takes is one gesture from Sombra, and they are given more information that pops up on their screens. In the chatroom, it's a small holovid in front of each of them. George's is placed updown for his convenience as well. "The Earth I hail from is a technological marvel compared to many, and it should suit your needs." A map of Africa is opened for each of them, with coordinates provided. "The city of Numbani.... a place where omnics and humans leave in peace, very progressive in many ways. Especially when it comes to space travel. I will help you raid it... if you make sure to help me get the information that I seek."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When Biteblade shoves her way into the frame, Septette makes a kind of undignified "ackpfth!" sound and scrunches up her face before settling back down and zooming the camera out a bit. It appears the camera is angled upwards slightly, which would give her a slightly imposing look if not for the fact that she's sharing her screen with an overenthused plant. The new angle shows her wrapped tightly in a faded lavender shawl, sitting in a wood-furnished room with simple stucco walls. Judging by the cup in her lap, it seems the pair were interrupted in the middle of tea. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Arcubielle's face falls back into its gentle smile, but internally her mind is racing as the milliseconds stretch out like molasses. She covers multiple possible sequences of events, but one is most likely and most prominent in her thoughts. Extrapolating from known voting behaviors in the Flotilla regarding piracy or violent intervention for profit: Biteblade will assent. Pavo will assent. George will likely assent. Albert will assent provisional on confirming it isn't some form of setup. Seft will likely dissent. Moonfin is harder to predict but ultimately will not cast a deciding vote. Predicted vote: 4-2 or 5-1 in favor, assuming favorable conditions and likely profitability. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Given that the Flotilla has a high chance of agreeing, whether now or after due diligence, the only decision left to Septette is whether to aid them on this 'raid'. It is almost certainly illegitimate and illegal, or this 'Sombra' would not be contacting them through such means. It is almost certainly going to be dangerous, or Sombra would not bother recruiting muscle. Nonzero risk of injury to Flotilla members. Likely nonzero risk of civilian casualties. Given all that... <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It would be irresponsible not to accompany them. Failure to do so could lead to greater chance of Flotilla casualties, which indirectly affects the safety of her own world. And if she's in on the raid, she could sway them in favor of tactics less likely to cause casualties among defenders or civilians. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Go on," she replies a fraction of a second later, lifting the teacup to her lips with one skeletal, metallic hand. "I'm listening."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:672|Starbound Flotilla (672)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Awww, you felt sorry for us? What a generous person!" George says, clasping his hands behind his head and grinning through the hardsuit's solid helmet. "You're a real friend here, you know. Sounds like a hell of a place to get things properly restarted! I'd love to get a real assembly setup to work with, you know, welding stuff out here by hand is just bad."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Albert grunts. Septette's prediction isn't wrong. "More information. What do you want? Need to make sure this isn't a trap." He looks up for once from his extensive weaponwork. It's not clear if he's making a tactically judging sort of grimace, or if that's just the natural state of his face at all times, since he's never NOT making that face. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Seft already looks uncomfortable. Her digital avatar shifts and looks awkward. "Worried. Mr--*beep* Ms. Sombra, I wish to avoid dealing with too much violence... The sort that come from threats or excessive breaching. If we take this offer, I will be helping even if I would rather not hurt a city like that, but..." The empty suit of armor actually fidgets in a mechanical way. "Nervous. Will you be providing any access codes or similar? It would make me feel much better to avoid as much of the combat as possible."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Matey, you've already a deal from me, probably Bitey too! A smash and grab on a space center, aye! 'Tis just what we be needin' to fix up me boat!" Pavo cheers, raising a hand. "Castin' me vote in favor of this operation already! Ye just tell me what ye be needin' in that place, matey! We'll take it all and give nothin' back!"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The hacker remains silent as the members voices their opinions, though she is still typing away at her virtual keyboard, her right hand not slowing down as text runs down one of her private screens, too quickly for most eyes to follow.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When they have all said their part, she nods, addressing Albert first. "I want information on the Lunar colony. There are safe guards set in place by the Overwatch that I can't get past without being there physically. But since you have need of resources, I thought I would be effective. After all," she begins, amusement lingering in her voice, "why not get two birds with one stone, amigos?" Albert's concerns are completely valid, and Sombra leans forward in her seat slightly. "If we do this right, then this can just be the beginning of a wonderful &lt;amistad&gt;, Alberto. I am willing to provide information if you are willing to be muscle, especially for the Concord."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Seft gets Sombra's attention next, "While I do not care whether you kill any people or not, I did read up about you." Tapping one screen, Sombra then sends it towards Seft. "Here are the access codes, they will be valid for two more days. There are various clearance levels, but these should take care of all of them." So worry not.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As the others appear to be in favour, Sombra chuckles slightly. "I'm glad you are amiable towards my proposial, niños. I will send you a package with tools that ought to make it easier for you, including a way for you to get the information to me. Don't worry, it's idiot proof." After all, she had to create tech that /Reaper/ was able to use.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"There should also be information there about the people leading the space program, and if we use that information correctly, we might be able to get our hands on even more resources. For you, and for me. Though I do warn you, there is a task force on said Earth, the Overwatch." Dossier folders are transmitted to the users of the chat rpp, all done with a tap of Sombra's finger on a hexagonal purple light on her keyboard. "I suggest you read up on the information beforehand and be prepared for their... interferencia. Do not underestimate them. I will do my part to prepare beforehand so that you may easily enter the space center. I have assembled an inventory list, maps of the place, and I will remotely do what I can to shut down their security system. That way you will only have to deal with the Elites that will surely respond sooner or later. Hopefully my aid will give you the time needed so you can acquire what you need to get back to business."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Ah, there's the inevitable catch. A local Elite taskforce- that's why she needs hired help. A strobe of indistinct lights plays across Septette's face as she flips through the pages of the dossier as quickly as they'll load, committing their contents to memory. "Ah, yes. ¿Por qué no los dos? Sound business model, killing with a borrowed knife." Despite the dispassionate words, Septette's tone remains outwardly cordial. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Such funny names... 'Reinhardt', 'Soldier 76', 'Mei'. They look almost like a team of adventurers from back home, albeit with shinier gear. I'm sure we'll be alright, Sombra." If there's one piece of advice the little war-machine is sure to disregard, it's the one about 'not underestimating them'. Maybe she'll wise up after a few pulse rounds to the face. <br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I think this information will suffice. Has anyone else been tipped off to this opportunity, that you know of? I'd hate to see any other potential collaborators fall victim to a 'shoot on sight' policy." Off-camera, she scribbles something on a sheet of paper on the table, and silently slides it over to Biteblade: "Restore SAIL and all ship drivers from latest external backup afterwards." <br> <br>

:'''{{#var:672|Starbound Flotilla (672)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Biteblade taps the paper and does a little thumbs up. Her eager, bright, cheerful persona isn't stupid. She even avoids nodding or anything like that onscreen! She does, however, give her own input. "Moon colony! Floran think, we can help! We help you get to, too! Floran get to space center, rebuild... Then, you come with! We go to moon together! Yeah! Floran think, agree for proposssal." She seems quite eager to propose even more collaboration!<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Albert grunts. "Once links are made with the Concord, this will be enough." He says. Seems to take that as acceptable. "Tools. Good. You supply, cover, we'll act." He clicks a heavy emitter on one of his laser guns into place, locking it with an ominous THUNK sound. "Have the firepower to cover any other gaps. Will bring all our force. I won't underestimate. Maximum prejudice. I agree to the proposal."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pavo says, "Aye aye, lass. Send ye list, we'll take 'em all. If ye can give us help like this, all the better we're hoping to join up on the Concord." She's already looking over the Overwatch data with eager eyes, hoping to break through security of that significance.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;George has been contemplative, but he finally speaks up. "Oh hey, blackmailing a space program big-wig? Yeah, definitely count me in. Especially if it takes us to space colonies. Love those places! Let's hit 'em, perfect job for me." He says, gesturing in both comically exaggerated ways, and ways that somehow keep his upside-down state utterly stable.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Moonfin nods several times... "Well, it seems we are mostly decided. The Starbound Flotilla shall take your offer, work to acquire your data, and hopefully restore ourselves. Potential collaborators... Perhaps it would be good to make a full and proper contact with the Concord sooner rather than later. We will establish our links shortly, in that case, and thank you greatly for the opportunity, Ms. Sombra." He bows again, a common gesture for him. "We shall carve from this city the gem of their achievement, and return to the state of our namesake in turn."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Nobody else knows. I prefer keeping things on the low. And I'd hate to risk allies that prove themselves useful to me. It is a public area, so I can't stop any bystanders from calling in reinforcements. It it was in a remote area, then it would be easier. But I trust you will be able to handle the situation. Otherwise I wouldn't have contacted you."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The comment regarding the Overwatch agents are rather amusing, and Sombra points at Septette and Biteblade's screen. "I would greatly appreciate it if you're able to keep my involvement in this entire deal quiet, it will make it easier for me to assist you in the future. The Overwatch is not particulary fond of me, desgraciadamente..."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The fact that the members of the chatroom now seem to be less tense, that's a good one. "I'm glad to hear you're all on board, just as I expected. Sí, I'm sure we will talk more once you're formal members of the Concord, and then we can meet face to face. I trust you can understand that somebody like myself must act with caution." Rising to her feet, Sombra closes the screens, all while her chair disappears into a thousand tiny partickles. "I'm certain a successful mission will ensure the Concord accepting you as members, and I will vouch for you if needed." She too bows to the members, peering up through her hood, the calavera skull almost looking mischievous thanks to the shadow falling over her 'face'. "Should you need me for whatever reason, whether it be intel or friendly chatter... just say my name and I'll step out of the shadows, colega."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Septette nods wordlessly, seeming satisfied, and cuts her feed. Then she takes a long, slow sip of tea and scruffles Biteblade's leafy hair, while staring into empty space with a contemplative expression. She's rarely one for long pauses (save for dramatic effect), but this one stretches out for several seconds while she appears to be deep in thought. Then, electricity arcing between her fingertips, she reaches out and fries her own camera. Not worth the effort of going through all her comms devices for potential contamination.<br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Biteblade," she finally says, "I think it's time to go shopping. I'll need my adventuring supplies again."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:672|Starbound Flotilla (672)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"A name such as yours is better spoken among friends than among enemies, Ms. Sombra." Moonfin says, with a wry grin. "We acquired such tools through an anonymous supplier; all else is beyond our reach." The Flotilla won't say anything, though they take no responsibility if Sombra's tools and hacking get traced back to her. "It is our pleasure to have made your acquaintance, and to have made this arrangement. If all goes to plan, you shall find the data transmitted to you within 36 hours, alongside notice of our membership in the Concord."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There's a moment. A singular moment where the eyes of every Flotilla member present all seem to gleam. Even Seft's empty armor shines ominously. The coordinated group, even with dissenters among them, commit fully. By tomorrow evening, Sombra will have what she was after, and so will the Starbound captains.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="color:xterm160">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm160">+</span> <span style="color:xterm50">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm50">+</span> <span style="color:xterm40">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm40">+</span> <span style="color:xterm184">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm184">+</span> <span style="color:xterm39">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm39">+</span> <span style="color:xterm15">+</span>_<span style="color:xterm15">+</span><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I look forward to our upcoming meeting, Ms. Sombra. And all that comes from it. Farewell." Septette's camera fries, and that heralds each Starbound member flickering off. Seft, then Albert, Pavo, George, and finally Moonfin, giving that elegant bow with the precise noble posture... The meeting is completed. Plans are in motion. They're bound for the stars again.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Bueno. I'm glad we have reached an understanding," Sombra states, the distorted voice sounded rather pleased. If they can do this without mentioning her name, the better. If not, then that's fine. "Adiós." With that the hacker's avatar disappears into a myriad of purple electronic particles, just as the other users log off.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Opening her eyes, Sombra stretches in front of her work station, all her screens illuminating the hidden lair. "Hmmm, as expected. Perfecto." She stretches her legs, her pj bottoms hiking up slightly on her calves. "Now we just have to wait... What do you think, Señor Sleepy Bear?" Sombra asks, readjusting the teddy bear that is propped up against one of the screens. "Oh, this is brilliant! Gabe will love this, especially if those hombres can take out any of the Overwatch agents," she adds in a different voice, only to revert back to her normal one. "Quizás, Señor Sleepy Bear. Quizás..."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This will be fun either way.<br> <br>
}}