Ankat queries the grid as he heads towards the airlock, paging those members of the crew not otherwise occupied with a message reading "We may have guests in the immediate term. Come to the airlock to throw a welcome party for any Nirai that want to come aboard. Iawa or Sulen, bring some snacks and a few whiskey glasses from the galley for the friendly customs inspectors? Istradez and Avrayen, I have party favors in case they're less friendly."

He's carrying several holstered handguns in harnesses slung over one shoulder, and a bag filled with sufficient ammunition to outfit a platoon. Or at least a platoon at half-strength, he thinks to himself. In one hand he's carrying a bottle of Scadrian whiskey from one of the crates in the cargo hold, on the working theory that any excessively nosy Nirai will be easily diverted with sufficient quantities of alcohol. Plus if we do end up in a gunfight, no need to go all the way to the galley to celebrate afterwards.