There, my friend, the predictions get fuzzy. The signs do not align, and the portents are dark and empty. There, of all places, be Golgothas... uh, dragons.
The good ship BWO steers for that place of clear skies and calm oceans, but when it may arrive, whether it be battered or holed or otherwise maimed, no man can say.
To all those not part of that brave crew, heed this well: it is perilous to cling to the waterline, to suffer the scrapes of anxious barnacles and the copious drink-of-constant-overwatch! For ye shall be swelled by such expectations that the herculean efforts of those heroic Few shall not satisfy you!
Journey on ahead instead in safety and comfort, by nuclear powered carrier if need be, and wait for the arrival of the good ship BWO in that place of tranquil seas!
For know without fear that once the voice acting is done, the MODs perfected, the missions fixed, it will all be coming to you in two-thousand-and-six.
EDIT: Ugh. I should not write things like that. A travesty of English literature in both form and concept.