His cure spell didn’t work.  He’s unsure of what the problem, but he’s trying a detect magic, then cycling through his alignment detection. 

Heal.

The pain stops.  She is on a stretcher with people standing over her, at some sort of primitive festival or gathering.

Ow. What now.

Hm. No memory of getting here. Bad. She doesn't recognize any of these people, which is good and bad. No immediate hostile intent, except from that bearded one. But from the feel of it such is more or less his baseline state. Not a present threat. Good. Language unrecognized, not detectably related to any she knows. Bad. Robe, yes, no tears or suspicious stains. Saber concealed in its customary holster, yes, crystal whispering softly at the brush of her will. Good.

Half a second after the silver woman finishes, Darth Occlus propels herself to her feet in a single smooth motion, fully expecting that anyone whose head is in the way of her rise will remove it in good order or accept having it telekinetically nudged out of her way. (Her chest twinges painfully. Probably the worst pain she's felt in ten years. But not worse than what she endured back then, and no sign of it registers on her face or bearing.)

Nothing about her detects as magic, which is somewhat strange, because she is strong enough to detect as Evil, and adventurers strong enough to detect ought to have at least one magic item.

”Who are you?  What was that injury?”

She glances around the surroundings, in no great hurry to respond to the man's questions. Metal armor, bladed weapons... good heavens, are those actual crossbows? Not a blaster in sight. Quality of manufacture is... generally poor, to her eye. She can practically see the weave on some of this cloth. No droids, no non-humanoids. Uncontacted primitives? That burst of healing remains an open question, as does her arrival.

"I am Darth Occlus. Who are you, and where is this place?"

“Are you claiming not to know?  You’re in Kenabres, at the Worldwound.  You were brought in badly injured.”

“Hulrun, please, the woman looks like she’s been through enough.  Why don’t you give her some time to recover, let her enjoy the festivities.”

"Hulrun, then. And you are?" she asks the silver woman.

“It’s Prelate Hulrun.  And I am Terendelev, patron and protector of this city.  Your injury was strange, I’m not sure if it’s fully healed.  Do you feel alright?”

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am sure. And while I thank you for whatever stabilizing effect your first aid may have had, I am quite capable of seeing to my own health. And I would prefer not to discuss such in so... public a setting."

“Why don’t you enjoy some of the festivities, and we can answer each other’s questions tomorrow?  You can ask for Terendelev at the Cathedral.”

And if she doesn’t show up of her own accord he will have her detained.  He unfortunately doesn’t have the spells or manpower to arrest and properly interrogate every single adventurer with an Evil aura, but she is strange enough to be noteworthy.

"I have very little interest in your festivities. You may direct me instead to a library, if you have such things here, or failing that, somewhere I might obtain private lodgings. And Prelate Hulrun, if you are looking for somewhere more productive to direct that anger, might I suggest investigating some of the beings present who do intend to do immediate harm?" She indicates a handful of people whose minds, to her senses, do not match their appearance. "That one, for instance, is plotting to ambush those girls and tear their faces off."

“That’s a very serious accusation.”  

Nevertheless, he motions over some guards and prepares them to detain the people she indicated.

She prepares herself to cast a spell or return to her true form as needed.  If this woman is some kind of mind reader or has some innate sense for demons or cultists and she’s right…

It looks those guards are gathering to take him in for questioning.  He would really rather just teleport away, but one of the few instructions that was made absolutely clear (with the implication of Areelu or Deskari personally hunting you down and killing you for violating it), was not to show off any teleports until the attack began.

Fuck it, he impales a human on his claw and chucks them at the guards.  He was really looking forward to cutting off someone’s face, but he will have to settle for something faster as an opening move.

Interesting reaction. Not really Occlus's problem at this point. She could almost certainly use this distraction to slip away and find the library on her own. On the other hand, the Prelate does seem to have some kind of legitimate law enforcement authority if he's commanding those guards, and 'patron and protector' implies some political sway. Perhaps a small effort now will buy enough goodwill to make her time here easier.

Occlus negligently waves a hand. The airborne human is gently caught and floated down to rest behind Terendelev. The stab wounds cease bleeding and a small infusion of lifeforce ensures the victim will not die of their wounds in the next few minutes. At the same time, the horned alien can flip into the air, dangling just above the ground, and find itself unable to move any of its limbs of its own volition, as though the air itself has solidified around them. Incidentally, it will also be unable to breathe in through mouth or nose. She finds this generally helps to encourage compliance.

(Anyone observing Occlus instead of the action may notice her eyes briefly flash an ethereal violet.)

Very convenient.  Also, cultists selling out other demons and cultists to build their cover or even just as a temporary distraction is a trick he's seen... more times than he can recall off the top of his head.

He prepares to take her in for questioning.  Her spellcasting is a bit strange, silent and with minimal somatic components, but that means he just needs to be extra sure to thoroughly break her arms if she doesn't cooperate.

Terendelev has the perception and spellcraft to note that the woman's 'spellcasting' doesn't feel like proper spellcasting at all.  Maybe she's a psion? Terendelev would be interested to meet a psion, she has actually met psychic casters before, and even they felt more like conventional spellcasting than this woman's ability.

For now she focuses on the situation at hand, a cure to follow up on the woman's healing.  And how did she manage both healing and a levitation/restraining effect at once?

He's been observing the city closely.  In principle everyone was supposed to wait for the locusts to start swarming and a wave of reinforcements to teleport in as their cue, but you don't manage a demon swarm without learning to build some tolerance in your plans for impulsive idiots.  He lets his swarms loose and looks for a moment when Terendelev is distracted.

Across the city locusts appear out of nowhere, illusions break to reveal demons, and cultists give shouts of "Hail Baphomet" and "Praise Deskari".

Bah. She did not sign up for... whatever this is. A civil war?

One deep breath of frustration in as she raises her hands-

-and on the exhale it gives form to the Force in the form of vast swathes of lightning leaping off her hands to target every newly-revealed alien and human who gave sign of joining them in the festival square. (She'd already picked a side by her actions. Might as well see it through for now. She can always kill the rest later.)