“Could we not have flown?” Thrawn asked.

“We could have,” Frangelic agreed. “But the Creators’ Market is one of the finest representations of Garwian culture, and I’d hoped to share it with you.”

Thrawn looked at Ar’alani. “Commodore?”

Ar’alani shrugged, sniffing as a shift in the breeze brought another flavor of smoke. Holiday open-fire banquets had been one of her favorite family meals when she was growing up. “Why not?” she said. “Lead on, Security Chief.”

“Thank you. This way.”

Frangelic set off toward the edge of the courtyard. It was crowded with people, as Ar’alani had already noted, but those on the edges quickly spotted the alien faces and moved out of their path. Some of them bowed toward Frangelic as the newcomers approached, and Ar’alani’s first thought was that the gesture was one of subservience or even fear at the sight of his uniform. But Frangelic invariably bowed back, and she eventually concluded the gesture was simply a form of respect between citizens.

“You can see that the booths are laid out in concentric circles,” Frangelic said as they approached the outer group. “The ones on the outside are reserved for those who require more space for their wares and equipment, while the smaller ones toward the center are for those with more compact displays.”

“You said creators,” Thrawn said. “What do they create?”

“Anything you want,” Frangelic said. “There’s a man here who makes unique kitchen utensils for people whose passion is cooking. Over there is a woman who creates historical costumes for remembrance parties. You can smell the aromas of cooking fires for those who wish a particular food preparation or a unique layering of spice or sauce.”

“Seems rather inefficient,” Ar’alani said.

“Oh, we have the same mass-produced items as all other worlds for everyday use,” Frangelic assured her. “These are for those who want the unusual and unique. If you can define or describe what you want, someone here will make it for you. Here, or in thousands of other Creators’ Markets across the Unity.”

“You spoke of remembrance parties,” Thrawn said. “What are those?”

“Ah,” Frangelic said, shifting direction. “That is, I believe, a cultural aspect in which the Unity stands alone among all other peoples. Those who attend such parties wear elaborate outfits utilizing features from clothing throughout Garwian history, woven and melded together in subtle and unique ways. The goal of each participant is to create the most beautiful and most intricate melding, while at the same time detecting and identifying the features in the other attendees’ garb. Let me show you.”

He led the way to a long table and a woman working an old-looking sewing machine. On either side of her were neat stacks of cloth, thread, and sewing implements, while racks behind her held dozens of samples of cloth, leather, silk, and some materials Ar’alani couldn’t identify.