“You mean as people?” Thrawn shook his head. “Not really. I see the people, certainly. But their personhood is seldom at the top of my thoughts.”

“Then how do you see them?”

His eyes swept the crowd, and Ar’alani thought she could see a hint of both thoughtfulness and sadness in his face. “As possible allies. Possible enemies.

“Assets.”

The group was nearly to the Solitair planetary security center when the racket of emergency alarms suddenly filled the air over the Creators’ Market. “What is it?” Ar’alani shouted over the noise.

“Solitair is under attack!” Frangelic snapped, breaking into a dead run. “Hurry!”

The alarms had been silenced by the time the three of them reached the underground situation room beneath the building. “Security Chief Frangelic, reporting for orders,” Frangelic called as they hurried toward a small group of Garwians standing in front of a large display wall. The three Ruleri, Ar’alani noted, were also present, conversing together off to one side beside another, smaller set of displays. The screens were of course labeled with Garwian script, which made them unreadable to her.

But there was no mistaking the reason for the alarm. The main viewscreen showed two Lioaoin ships coming in toward the planet. Even as Ar’alani watched, they reached firing range and the nearest of Solitair’s orbiting defense platforms opened up with lasers and missiles.

“Security Chief,” one of the officers greeted Frangelic tensely as Ar’alani and the others came up to them. Up close, she now recognized him as a general who’d been at one of their earlier meetings, though she couldn’t recall his name. “Commodore Ar’alani; Senior Commander Thrawn.” He gestured to the displays. “As you can see, the quiet talks we’d envisioned between our two peoples have been violently interrupted.”

“Indeed,” Frangelic said grimly.

“We were afraid this would happen,” the general continued. “With our forces off defending our five outer worlds, the Lioaoi have chosen this moment for a surprise attack. You helped us once, Commodore Ar’alani. Can you also assist us in repulsing this new aggression?”

Ar’alani shook her head, feeling a sense of helplessness. The woman up there in the Creators’ Market, diligently sewing her historical clothing…“I’m sorry, General, but we can’t,” she said. “By all standard protocol, we shouldn’t even be in your situation room.”

“You are our guests, and such guests must be protected,” the general said. “If the invaders break through, you could be in the same danger as our own helpless citizens.”

“There’s little likelihood of that,” Thrawn assured him. “Your defense platforms should be more than adequate to protect you from two warships.”

“What if there are more lying in wait?” Frangelic countered. “Anything you can tell us about our attackers could spell the difference between survival and utter destruction. Please.”