Who Am I?
Alina quickly regrouped with Darth Strosius once there wasn't any guards running amok. Most of her arms were actually reformed, all the way down to the bottom half of her hands. The hunger was a dull ache in the back of her mind. Soon, very soon, she'd have her hands back. And when she did, well. She wasn't sure what do to afterwards. They'd likely have to leave the world before they were approached by the law. Or any other gangs.
The party below would of been far easier to finish if she did have her arms. Her lightsaber could easily rip through them all. A group was dangerous. She crouched on the balcony above the make shift dance floor. "We'll have to kill them before we drain them. A shame. It's best as fresh as possible. But I'd rather not damage what I've already healed."