"Oh dear, whatever shall we do?" Obi-Wan replies in kind.

As the ship settles into the routine of being hauled in by the pirates - or whatever they are - he slides out of his seat with a tiny stretch. "Well, let's lock the ship down and go see who's captured us. And remember, no lightsabres until absolutely necessary. We have a cover to maintain."

When the inevitable chime at the airlock requests permission to board, Obi-Wan's there to meet it with an appropriate expression that's half indignation, and half frightened. The two men that precede the boarding party are definitely the hired muscle, meant more for show than security.

The woman that follows is around Obi-Wan's height, athletic build, with short, brown hair. She's dressed in black, tight-fitting pants, a black sleeveless, form-fitting shirt, with black thigh-high boots. A blaster is strapped to her leg, and she looks like the type to be highly proficient in its usage. Obviously she likes to make an impression.

"There now," she says in greeting, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"