The momentum of the ship lurches to a stop, prompting you to nod to Grubber. He throws the lever controlling the main ramp, the metal groaning and the pneumatics hissing as it deploys into the freshly overcast plaza, the cool air from outside rushing into the bay with a light whoosh and stirring up some of the intentionally generated ominous fog cover. The ramp finishes deploying, hitting the stone of the ground with a resounding metallic CLUNK, and Grubber wastes no time in booting the roll of red carpet down the ramp, grabbing his funny little jack-in-the-box megaphone thing, and strutting on down to give his little speech.