Syravari finished his drink as the Grosetto cruised into the atmosphere of the world, it's heavy clouded sky shrouding the ground below. Though they had a fair idea on the location of his odd cult of Oku waiting for the next ship to arrive, he knew this fanatical reception they were about to receive could go wrong in a moment. Rising, he carried his glass back to the lounge and then continued on to the cargo bay, meeting Brannoc and four others already geared and clothed in the heavier coats and boots. Weapons holstered or across their chests, Syravari reached into the locker and joined them.

"Food's being arranged in the room now," Brannoc informed, motioning with his head through the stacks of crates to the open door to their holding cell.

Nodding, Syravari zipped up the coat and took in the faces of those that he had been working with now for several years. "Don't take their simple ass minds for granted, these aliens aren't going to be happy once the cargo ramp raises, so be ready to shoot." They all knew what they were doing as his eyes lowered to the boots as he crouched and snapped the buckles on either side. Standing once more, he paced quietly until Tomas's voice chimed in over the intercom.

"Found 'em. Coming in now," the pilot informed everyone. "Large crowd gathering on the outside of a cleared area bordered by bonfires," he chuckled. "Damn, look at these things."

Tensions rose as his team in the cargo bay spaced out, taking up positions as Syravari placed his hand near the cargo bay's button to open the wide door which commanded the starboard side and though their back would be protected by the ship itself, they would have to keep their eyes along the lowered edge which would touch the ground.

"Ready," Tomas stated. "Three.... two.... one. Open the bay door."

Doing so, Syravari did his best to step up and prepare to calm the masses that he expected. Servos whined as the door lowered and the large group of white furred aliens in jubilation was as expected, their celebration filling the air with an uproar of emotion. Stepping up, the tall, middle aged pirate motioned to them as a larger male rose and stepped to him, then bowed. It's large, black orbs lowering to his hand as he moved to kiss the glove. Letting him, Syravari was beginning these aliens were out of their minds, but he played along for now. It's toothy maw full of flattened, wide teeth with only two incisors, it began speaking to him in it's language and then motioned to his people.

Nodding, Syravari backed a step and then raised his hands twice, all fingers outward and then motioned to the crowd as the protocol droid approached from within the ship. "Tell them we can only take twenty at a time."

"Yes, sir." It's polite, tinny voice then translated the instructions and the leader of the clan clapped once, loudly and turned to choose the first group, including himself among them. A good mix of male and female were in the first group and so far Syravari was pleased with the choices. He then turned and motioned for them to enter the cargo bay and they did so reluctantly. Once the last of them stepped aboard and were guided toward the cell, Syravari punched the button for the cargo bay to rise.

"Tomas, let's get out of here," Syravari stated.

"Got it."

A command that the chieftain and the few males among them didn't like....