"I'm good with machines, but people? I don't get people."

Deshayla|Kerrin

Rationally, it took a significant amount of time for either of them to realize what was happening. Everyone else around them was either staring blankly at the young bomber or still barely in the throes of the fading conversations, and shock was just starting to wear off. But experience from similar previous situations kept them both alive.

"Cover." Kerrin murmured. Deshayla was already moving, leading the way behind the line of clothes they were standing in front of. Fortunately, the large amount of sudden commotion covered their movements. It was no metal barrier or synthetic wall, but it would do.

Once they were safely out of sight, Kerrin concentrated on isolating certain information his senses were in the process of comprehending. There were footsteps - numerous footsteps - and the traditional incomprehensible shouting. But there was something else, as well. Heavier footfalls, originating from the entrance to the store. Weapons fire, from a heavy pistol of some kind. Phalanx?

"All right, listen up!" A rough voice called out. The shoppers began to quiet down. Not all at once, but with slightly startling brevity. Kerrin had some difficulty with placing a species to the voice. Most certainly not a softer-toned one, nor emotionless, like an elcor. But that still left krogan, batarian, turian, human, bass vorcha (unlikely, of course), quarian and yahg. Hah! He thought, suddenly amused. Imagine. A yahg on the Citadel.

"This piece of dirt here is smart as my boot, but he doesn't shit around." The voice continued. "And if the explosion doesn't kill you, I'll shoot your asses."

A click resounded throughout the building, but not the arming of a weapon. That was different. This sounded more like a forced lockdown. "As of right now, this is my world."

"What do you want?!" A woman shouting. A weapon discharged, and then screams of terror. Kerrin's blood went cold, and he heard the soft thump of a body hitting the floor.

"See her?" The terrorist asked. "She's doing a great job of staying down and keeping quiet. Everyone else, be like her. Because I got plenty more bullets."

The eyes of krogan and salarian met, and their feelings were, at a rare moment, mutual.

Kerrin turned and examined his surroundings. There were a few choice mirrors along the walls, but none with a particularly good vantage point to where he suspected the assailant was. Perhaps it was intentional. More likely, however, it was circumstance. There had to be at least one place he was visible from. In the meantime, they would need to selectively eliminate a few thugs.

As if on cue with his thoughts, in a nearby mirror he saw a lackey murmur something to another and hand over his weapon. His ally shook his head in exasperation but motioned down a hall just a ways away and across from Kerrin's position. A jolt went through him with another thought. He knew the locations of certain areas? They must have performed some amount of reconnaissance. This had been planned. But why?

Unbidden when he saw exactly where the thug was going, a thought appeared in Kerrin's mind. Be subtly altered it for his own amusement. Blast it, child, I told you to go before we left the house!

It did, however, allow him a golden opportunity to dispose of one assailant, and perhaps even an investigator sometime later. But he would need a guard and a distraction. Fortunately, he had both.

He tapped on Deshayla's shoulder and handed her a remote communication device. She plugged it into an ear and nodded. "I need you to distract them while I enter the facilities." He whispered. She looked at him like he was insane and he realized how that must have sounded, but didn't explain. He moved between the clothing racks that offered sufficient cover until he arrived at the beginning of an open area. If he attempted to enter the male disposal units now, he would absolutely be seen.

He heard something shatter on a far wall. Several criminals rushed over to the source, and everyone else turned to look. Kerrin didn't waste a moment. Like a flash, he was inside the location of his objective. He was already running late - he could hear flushing and the zipping of someone getting back into uniform. He readied a syringe filled with a nontoxic knockout serum of his own design (he kept several on his person at all times, of course, and this situation was a perfect example of why) and stood next to the exit.

Within seconds the guard stepped out of a stall and up to the door. He wasn't paying attention, merely looking downward and adjusting his gloves. Kerrin calmly thrust the needle tip into his neck and emptied the contents with one practiced motion.

As the guard slumped forward noiselessly, Kerrin found the need to say something clever, so he naturally made the first remark that came to mind. "You didn't wash your hands." He told the unconscious man, his tone disappointed.

A problem of his current situation soon became apparent; If he were to leave this room, he would be noticed. Fortunately, to this part he had thought ahead. "Deshayla." He whispered into his end of their communications unit. "Are you able to force them to turn again, and then hide?"

"I'm not much for hiding." She grumbled.

An idea sprung fully formed into his mind. "Restyle a thin barrier to the entire color spectrum, with a slight emphasis on marble. Just your skin."

"You'd better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"I have faith in your comprehension abilities such that what you think I am suggesting is exactly what I am suggesting." He nodded, despite knowing full well that she couldn't actually see him.

"But-"

"Good luck!" He told her cheerfully, then disconnected. He waited exactly thirty-seven seconds, and opened the door. Just as planned, everyone was looking away from him once again. He ducked behind a clothes rack and stealthily proceeded back towards their original hiding spot.

However, he wasn't the only one there. Two of the five armed individuals he'd counted earlier were stalking in front of him, rifles raised. "Well?" He heard someone ask out of sight.

One of them shook their heads. "Nothing."

"Told you." The other muttered.

"Goddamn it." Their leader sighed. "Someone go get number three and tell him to either get out here or shove his bladder up his ass."

Footsteps began to fade out of Kerrin's hearing range, but neither man in front of him moved away. Once again part of the plan. He waited...

"Gah!" Someone yelled and cursed from the vicinity of the restroom. "Man down!"

That was all the third distraction he needed. Standing up, he injected the two terrorists within arm's reach, then pulled them back. The small sounds these movements made were covered up by the leader's line of questioning.

"The hell do you mean, 'man down'? Secure the perimeter, two and f-" There was a pause. "Two! Four! Where are you?"

Meanwhile, Kerrin was stashing the bodies underneath choice clothing racks, then hiding himself. Someone in heavy armor turned the corner and looked around. To Kerrin's chagrin, his neck was covered.

"Anything?" The one who'd found number three asked nervously.

"Nothing." The leader spat, striding off again. Behind him was only a krogan mannequin displaying civilian clothing and a wide-rimmed, flowery hat. It rolled its eyes at him, and he grinned.

"What's going on here?" The leader (whom Kerrin now assumed was called 'One') shouted. He heard the hard impact of a reinforced glove against flesh, then startled gasps and a groan of pain. "As if your sticky little hands aren't enough, what's your security system? TELL ME!"

"P-please..." Kerrin heard a soft, flanging voice reply. "I don't...know...what you're talking about."

"Bullshit!" Another blow. This time it elicited a full cry of pain. Kerrin internally analyzed what little he could hear. From the blow itself: multiple cracked, broken ribs, possible internal trauma. From vocal stress patterns: Definitely a lie, but what about? From direct vocals: Turian, female, one-hundred and eighty eight centimeters in height, young adult.

He slipped a pistol from the holster of one of the assailants near him and held it up on the side of the clothes rack One wasn't on. It caught Deshayla's eye and she nodded slightly. He tossed it to her. She caught it flawlessly and locked eyes with him, waiting. This was an excellent moment to have a companion with the same intellectual capacity, he thought. He held up a total of five fingers, then motioned to her pistol and pantomimed holding a rifle.

Deshayla nodded again. Kerrin held up his hand and accessed his omni-tool while the sounds of the beating (and several whimpers, perhaps sobbing from the captives) continued. He didn't have much time. Quietly, he released a directed neurotoxin keyed to human DNA and hoped he was correct in his assumption. The invisible gas would spread to certain types of nervous system and disrupt it. In this case, it locked on to stress hormones produced during fits of rage. Neurotoxicity had quite a few benefits, he thought grimly, reconfiguration being one of them.

He waited five seconds. Then he locked eyes with Deshayla again. He nodded once, firmly.

She burst out of her cover and, on cue, Kerrin moved his omni-tool out from behind cover. Inducing neural shock wasn't nearly as stealthy (and a bit more dangerous), but it certainly did the job. Five dropped like an overfull sack of bricks. One turned around in shock, already partway through what was no doubt a disconcertingly violent curse. But the neurotoxin had already worked its magic - he tried to hold up his rifle, but he acted too quickly for his weakened body to keep up. Before he had the chance to act, Deshayala fired and shot the rifle right out of his hands.

Kerrin fully expected him to realize his odds were then nil, but then recognized that he didn't account for traditional stupidity. One roared and charged (clumsily). Deshayla snorted and backhanded him so hard that she dented his helmet. Kerrin rolled out of cover and dusted his outfit off.

That still left the bomber, though.

For his part, the instigator (whom Kerrin had, on a whim, elected to mentally refer to as 'Jim') seemed far too shocked to do anything dangerous such as, say, following through on his threats and killing them all right then. That gave them an opening. Kerrin waved Deshayla down and took a tentative step forward, hands raised in a gesture of peaceful semi-surrender.

"Who...who are you?" Jim asked, still bewildered.

"I could ask you the same thing." Kerrin replied smoothly. "Or, more importantly, why you are doing what you are doing."

Mercifully, the assorted hostages were silent during the exchange, and Kerrin privately applauded their shared common sense. The store owner was still whimpering on the floor, but that didn't necessarily count.

"Th-they made me." Jim gesticulated wildly to the various unconscious thugs while he stammered. "I d-didn't want..."

"And I believe that." Kerrin nodded. "However, I need you to stay calm. Do you know how your bomb is disarmed?"

"N-no..." Jim mumbled, though he stopped looking quite so panicked, which was a good sign.

"Do you have any objections to having a disposal unit called?"

Jim's eyes widened. "W-what...I can't go to jail!"

"I have little doubt that a situations victims tend to remain free." Kerrin assured him. "But we need an expert in this field."

"You mean...you're not?" Jim asked.

Kerrin shook his head.

"But...aren't you STG?" Jim blinked a few times.

Kerrin smiled. "No. I'm just a doctor."

It didn't take long for C-Sec to sent additional assistance, though it took them several minutes to arrive. Deshayla had assured them that the situation was under control, but they had sent at least four squads anyway. They merely found a frightened and immobile unwilling bomber, a group of civilians, a quintet of bound terrorists, and two medical specialists who felt mildly pleased with themselves.

During the interval, Kerrin had checked the crowd for serious injuries. His most pressing concern, the store owner, was taken under first care, but miraculously no one else was seriously hurt. Including the bodies, the salarian thought grimly, looking over for the thirteenth time in as many minutes at the carelessly executed woman on the floor barely meters from him. Deshayla was doing her typical 'duty', which involved growling at anyone who so much as glanced at him and modifying her new sidearm to nigh-ridiculous lengths so as to make it an even more painful killing tool.

"Thank you..." The owner muttered to him as he went over her wounds, patching normally where he could and applying medicine where he couldn't. He was no replacement for a fully stocked medical facility, of course, but he liked to think he did an excellent job with what he had.

"You're quite welcome." Kerrin told her softly. Due to the distance everyone else was putting between themselves and him (or, more likely, his krogan compatriot), he was able to hold a conversation unheard by any others. Which was good. He had questions. "Why was that man interrogating you like that?"

"Didn't...give him correct change." She tried to chuckle, but it turned into a rasping cough. Despite himself, Kerrin smiled, too; how she was able to keep humor with such injuries mystified him. And yet, somehow, it was also infectious. "No, too late for jokes, I think." She corrected herself.

"Unfortunately, I have to agree." Kerrin said.

"He wanted..." She paused, considering, he assumed, how much to tell him. "Something of mine. A secret. Something I...admit, is getting harder to keep. These men...they were just the first." She fixed him with a stony gaze. "You said you weren't STG?"

He shook his head, and she continued. "But I guess you can...handle yourself. Lis...listen, doctor. Can you keep a secret?"

Kerrin hesitated. "I may not be the best..."

"No one is." She said. "Not with this. But I'd rather know...it's with someone like you. Someone who...can help."

"Perhaps you could just send me flowers and a 'thank-you' card instead?" He suggested facetiously.

"Better than...than an employee discount." She laughed again. This time, it was full-throated, if hoarse.

Kerrin, at this had stopped paying attention. Where before his scans had only picked up the expected injuries, now something was wrong. Some kind of toxin even he didn't recognize was spontaneously in her system. He could see her organs shutting down in front of his eyes. "No..." He muttered, trying to think of a solution.

"Better...this keep..." She took out an OSD and set it on her lap. Her words were getting harder to released, her breaths ragged.

"No." He said again. "Stay awake..." He was starting to panic. Everything was going wrong too quickly. His brain was racing at eight-hundred thousand and twenty six point four miles per half-minute, but he still couldn't keep up. There was no injection he had, no antitoxin that matched. Desperately, he tried injecting virtually random substances. Blood thickeners, nervous inhibitors, antibiotics, anything.

He barely heard her last words. "Tell your...friend..she can keep..."

His ears didn't even register the beep his omni-tool scanner made when her heart stopped.

"...The...hat..."

Brain function. Nil. Circulation. Gone. Everything was just...off. Like a light. Except it couldn't be turned back on. Some blueish blood trickled out of her open mouth and splattered down over her outfit. It obscured some of her employee nametag, making it read 'Kyr_ra, Man_r'.

Loud banging noises brought him back to his senses with a jolt. Were there more terrorists? Another attack? A low, commanding voice called out from the other side of the closed entrance: "This is Citadel Security! I expect to see weapons down!"

Kerrin glanced over to warn Deshayla, but she was already setting his pistol on the floor (reluctantly). Mere seconds after their announcement, no less than nine officers piled into the room, four of them in a bomb squad garb. Jim winced, but mercifully kept his stillness and composure. Kerrin decided he might as well announce his presence and stood. However, the commanding officer, an otherwise unremarkable turian, had already noticed him.

"Looks like this situation is already half resolved." He noted. "I take it you're the miracle doctor the call mentioned?"

"I don't do miracles." Kerrin couldn't keep a bitter tone out of his voice. The pain of losing two people was already starting to fade as he began to logically digest recent events, but even for him it would require time. "But I am a doctor."

The turian looked slowly and obviously over to the five bound criminals in the center of the room and then looked back. An eyeridge was raised in irony. "A doctor."

"If you'd like, I can produce multiple resumes and credentials." Kerrin shot back, his tone dry.

"That...won't be necessary." The officer scratched the back of his neck. "You have me in an awkward spot, doctor. Because of your involvement, I do have to take you into light custody, for questioning. That being the case, I-"

Kerrin held up a hand, cutting him off. "I have no problems with interrogatory custody, under these circumstances."

He nodded and motioned to Jim. "And the bomber?"

"As responsible as the civilians, I believe." Kerrin considered the problem. "That being said...his innocence is his own testimony. I did assure him that he would remain blameless, but..."

"We have to take the proper precautions." The officer said automatically. Then he took another look at Jim, and relented slightly. "But...I don't see a particular reason to be unnecessarily rough."

"Can we leave now?" Kerrin asked softly. "I've...had enough of this place."

"...And you have no idea why they tried something like this?"

The travel between the store and the C-Sec office was interspersed with various thoughts and musings on Kerrin's part. Foremost in his mind were thoughts twofold: Why he had been unable to save the owner, and what she had on that OSD which was so important. While he naturally had the mysterious device with him, he hadn't had the chance to look it over. Every moment he was under surveillance, though, was a moment spent agonizing over the multitude of secrets he now had on his person. The only piece of evidence he had that it was of even vague import was assumption. A good assumption, but no 'hard' data. The assumption being that five heavily-armed men did not force a bomb on someone and beat the life out of someone else for a pie recipe.

The pressure that was putting on his logical thinking was almost as bad as the mystery itself. The other thoughts were hardly any better. He thought he could refuse to torture himself unnecessarily over two deaths that were not his fault. But unfortunately, his conscience would apparently not let him be. Time dilation kicked in within minutes of arriving at C-Sec headquarters. He subconsciously recognized and recorded events, but couldn't quite remember how he had arrived in the room with the asari staring at him.

Mechanically, and untruthfully, he answered her question. "No. Does anyone willing to resort to such measure need a reason?"

Her lips pursed. "Socially-disabling sociopathy isn't always the answer. I wish it were that simple, but they were in there for something."

"And you think we know what that was?" Deshayla asked, a warning growl creeping into her tone.

"Two combat specialists who just happened to be in the same place can bring down five armed terrorists?" The asari stared at them again, letting her meaning sink in. "Are you telling me that's not suspicious?"

"It is suspicious." Kerrin agreed. "But that does not equate to connected. I'm glad we were in the right place and the right time to save those people, but there was no other reasoning behind it."

"All right." She exhaled near-silently and went on with a trace of sardonicism. "I'll put it up to that the building was full of clergy."

"What," Deshalya snorted. "You think we were actually with those idiotic meatsacks?"

"What I'm telling you is that so far, I don't know what to think." The asari corrected. "Neither does the executor. This has turned into a full-scale investigation, and we take hostages and terrorism very seriously on the Citadel."

"Can we leave?" Kerrin asked, more bluntly than he intended.

The officer fixed them with one of her stares. It occurred to them that she must do that quite a bit to be so disconcerting while doing so. Finally, her gaze lowered. "Honestly, I could charge you with vigilantism. But screw that. The executor might be that much of a vindictive asshole, but I'm not. You can go."

They stood in unison. "Do you think your executor will give us trouble?" Kerrin asked.

She chuckled humorlessly. "Not right now, maybe. But I don't recommend getting taken into custody again for a while."

"We'll be off, then." Kerrin took a step outside, then turned back. "And thank you, officer..."

"Vanno." She nodded. "And you're welcome."

By the time they got back to the main C-Sec area, the station was in an uproar. Officers rushed around desperately, various higher ranking officials were simultaneously giving orders and trying to maintain them. Someone with more of an ego might have wondered as to the timing and why such a show was being put on for them, but Kerrin merely wondered what was going on.

"Nice timing." Deshayla muttered. "Why's there a big show for little old us?"

Vanno frowned and pulled aside another officer. "What's going on here?" She asked.

"Officer Jelanis is dead, ma'am, they found him in The Trap." The young human looked nervous and humbled, and for the first time Kerrin wondered exactly how much clout Vanno had.

The asari paled ever so slightly and pursed her lips. "Dismissed." Vanno mumbled. The junior officer sped off.

"The hell's 'The Trap'?" Deshayla asked.

"It's an area outside C-Sec headquarters, in the wards." Vanno explained. "It used to be a lot for officers to park their vehicles coming in, but now it's a graveyard for informants supposedly under C-Sec protection. It's damned embarrassing."

"Why isn't it under guard?" Kerrin inquired.

"Every cop we send out there either disappears or mysteriously 'forgets'." Her tone made it clear that she was much more upset about the situation than she let on. And she let on quite a bit. "It's pissing us off to no end. But losing an officer in there..." She shook her head.

"What-" Kerrin began. He was quickly cut off.

"VANNO!" The voice was rough, with an accent that Kerrin, as a nonhuman, couldn't place. He turned to see a C-Sec officer almost running towards them. He looked furious, and numerous others shrinking away from him also lowered their gazes.

Vanno looked suddenly like she was trying to hide the expression normally associated with punching something. "Hello, Executor..."

"Don't give me that bullshit." He growled. "Why the hell are we getting picked off in our own damned backyard?"

"I only just heard." Kerrin, personally, was impressed with how calm her voice managed to be. "Maybe you could ask Clarke? He was in charge of today's watch over the Trap."

"Clarke's gone, too." The Executor spat. "I've got fuck-all for intel, so why aren't you up front?!" He glanced at Kerrin and Deshayla, then did a double-take. "And who the fuck are these people?!"

"Concerned civilians putting in a report. " Vanno told him smoothly. She, too, looked at them, but her expression was less 'shoot these idiots' and more 'run, you morons'.

"Who were just leaving." Kerrin added, already backing away.

"Fine, go." The Executor waved his hand and turned his full attention on Vanno. As the medical pair left the elevator and got inside the rapid transit station, Kerrin thought that he honestly wasn't sure who to feel more sorry for.

"And that's all." Kerrin concluded. It honestly wasn't; he had elected to leave out the OSD during his retelling. Based on the expressions of the others, their 'adventures' had been similar. The unconscious geth was another indicator.

The hooded human behind Renar looked around the docking area. Kerrin couldn't see his face, but he imagined it wasn't particularly impressed. "I notice a distinct lack of a ship."

"Yeeeaaaaaaaah." Davisson scratched his head. "We have no idea what that's about, either."

"Urgent distress call?" Tali posited.

"Just as well." Deshayla grumbled. "I could use something to eat. And it looks like we've got time."

They all looked at each other. Except Tali; she was crouched, eyes on the geth she was working on reviving.

Renar shrugged. "That sounds fine."

"ONLINE."

The sudden (and loud) noise made them all jump and look down at Jeddah, who had begun to stir. "Er, Jeddah, can you turn down your auditory output settings?" Tali asked.

"Affirmative, Creator Tali'Zorah." The geth stood to its full height with surprising agility. "Notice: I appear to have several missing files in my memory banks."

Tali shook her head. "No, you were just deactivated."

"Unfortunate."

"Hey, maybe we can fill him and the Doctor here on our various misadventures. While we're eating. At a place that sells food." Davisson suggested.

"All right, all right." Tali stopped him, but sounded amused.

"There's a fairly diverse hole-in-the-wall on Zakera Ward." The hooded man said.

"You mean the very excitable noodle peddler?" Tali asked.

"What? No. He couldn't manage decent food if his grandmother slapped him in the face with a cookbook."

"If we're going to go, we might as well go." Deshayla shrugged. Then she fixed 'Hood' (ah, now he was getting the hang of nicknames) with a suspicious glare. "This place has ryncol, right?"

"And here we are." Davisson concluded.

Both he and Renar had retold their tales for the benefits of Kerrin, Deshayla, and Jeddah, the latter of which seemed very interested in the situation regarding Amber Wave. Kerrin himself had vaguely heard of the organization (or perhaps he was thinking of something else) and to think they had done something so horrific chilled him. As for Renar and the individual now known as Bob, at least he now knew the details of 'The Trap'. He couldn't honestly say he mourned Jelanis' death, either.

Of particular import (to Kerrin, at least) was exactly how Bob had known the things he did. Every indication was that this man was anything other than an ordinary vigilante. His gaze drew absently over to a nearby group of quarians while he considered the situation. Surely someone had to be told. Vanno was the most likely, but would anyone honestly believe Jelanis had been dirty?

"So how exactly did you manage to know all of that?" Deshayla asked Bob. "Seems like an intensive job for some random human."

"You don't like a good mystery?" Bob asked casually.

Kerrin sighed. Tali was having a conversation via omni-tool (likely with her geth companion), Davisson and Renar were taking the opportunity to eat, and Deshayla was now regarding Bob with an air of wariness. The food wasn't bad, but at the moment, the atmosphere could have been better. Davisson suddenly put his fork down and rubbed his chin in thought.

"What I really want to know..." He whispered to the others. "Is why all of the other customers in here have weapons."

Kerrin surreptitiously glanced around the diner. Sure enough, he caught glimpses of steel and thermal clips under the tables of the quarians, a group of street toughs, and a gathering of seemingly normal people. No sooner had he made his own conclusions than everything went directly to hell.

Half a dozen C-Sec officers burst into the diner, weapons drawn. Their leader, a turian (the same turian present in the store, Kerrin realized with a jolt) pointed his weapon at Renar and shouted: "You're under arrest!"

Everyone in the room took that as their cue to stand up and draw arms. One of the quarians shouted "Amber reigns!", one of the toughs pulled out a shotgun and aimed it at Bob with a "Gadschalk sends his regards!", and the normal people dove for cover, announcing in unison that "Shadows will take you!".

The Normandy's shore crew had a much simpler yet much more simple battle cry.

"Oh, shit." Davisson muttered.

"So much for vacation." Tali sighed. "Bet Garrus is having a ball in com-"

Davisson looked almost exactly like a giant exclamation point should have appeared over his head. "Shut u-!"

Fire and debris rained down around them. A line of freezing rounds connected just over Kaidan's head as they ducked into the building. It wasn't the safest avenue of cover; it was little more than a shack. But it could last them for some breathing room. Vaya closed the door behind them and collapsed in a heap to the left of it.

"Corporal, status!" Garrus shouted.

Vaya nodded. "Just a scratch, Admiral."

"Bravo team, come in!" Garrus yelled into his comm connection. "Vega, what's going on in the east side?"

The marine's response was immediate, but rushed. Garrus heard the sounds of gunfire on the other end. "I'm taking a beating over here, don't know how much longer I can last without the defense systems online!"

"What about the others?" Garrus asked. "Where's your backup?"

"They're down, Garrus." The turian suddenly felt remarkably like he was falling. He dreaded the next words out of Vega's mouth just as much as he suspected what they would be.

"Lokkan's dead."

[Author's Note: It's a bit of an early update, and hopefully that makes up just a little bit for having missed last week's. So, yes, surprises abound. We won't see the outcome of the Citadel team for a little while, but meanwhile next Chapter centers around what in the sam hell is going on wherever Garrus and co. are.

And yes. This cliffhanger is evil. I regret nothing. Stay tuned!]