In “To the rescue” I have given Crais a family; a wife and twin sons. He had been travelling in the Far Reaches for twelve cycles before entering a wormhole and joining up with the others, for whom only a cycle had passed, on Moya again. But what happens when cultures conflict?

Summary: Crais gets upset when Crichton tries to introduce more Erp-traditions

Crais’ Family 4: Conflicts Of Interests

by GitonCrais

“But the boys will love it, Crais.” Crichton tried to keep up with Crais’ long strides.

“I don’t care, I will not allow it,” said Crais in a tone of voice that did not even attempt to hide his annoyance.

“Why not, Crais? It’s just harmless fun!”

Crais stopped and turned abruptly to face Crichton. It caused the Human to walk right into him, which only deepened Crais’ scowl further, “I will not have them exposed to every single Jhumon tradition you care to pile on their heads. They are still Sebacean!”

“You mean to tell me there is nothing like this in the Sebacean tradition?”

“No!”

“How boring!”

Crais rolled his eyes in annoyance and resumed his walk towards the Maintenance Bay.

Crichton tried to match his stride. “It’s only once a cycle, and the kids will really like it.”

“No!” There was a tone of finality in Crais’ voice.

“Aw, come on, Crais. Loosen up!”

“No, Crichton, and that will be the end of this conversation!”

They entered the Maintenance Bay.

Crais hadn’t even bothered to put his tunic on when he had left his chamber. His broad chest was well defined under his sleeveless shirt, his golden-hued arms were bare, and Crichton could see the muscles flex every time Crais clenched his fists in controlled anger.

Crais took the tools he would need to calibrate Moya’s waste disposal unit. He tossed a few of them at Crichton, who nearly dropped them since he was not expecting ‘incoming’.

They worked in silence for a while, which Crais found a blessing.

Crichton started to hum.

Finally, Crais remarked, “Do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Produce that…horrible droning noise.”

“You mean my humming?”

“I don’t care what you call it, it is irritating me.”

“Aeryn likes it.”

“I…am…not…Aeryn!” Crais tried to keep his temper under control.

“That’s obvious,” grinned Crichton.

Silence for another three microns, then Crichton started to whistle.

This irritated Crais even more. Within two strides, he was at Crichton’s side; he caught his shoulder in an iron grip and lifted him to a standing position, “Can’t you just be quiet while you work?”

Crichton scowled back, “No, Captain. I am not a robot; humming and whistling help me think while I work.”

“They don’t help me,” Crais shot back.

The two men stood face to face, glaring at each other.

Lyane’s thoughts reached Crais’ through the link, “Why are you upset, Bialar?” As if she didn’t know.

Crais thought back, “Crichton!” As if that explained it all, apparently to him it did.

“Ah,” thought Lyane, “Can’t you two work on different tiers? Maybe…”

“No. This demands the attention of two people.”

“Maybe if I asked Aeryn to work with you instead?”

“Perhaps that would be for the best.”

Crichton looked at Crais, aware that some silent exchange was taking place, but wasn’t quite sure whether it was with Talyn or with Lyane or both, “Hey, Crais. You know it’s rude to interrupt a conversation and just start talking to someone else.”

“I wasn’t talking to you anymore,” said Crais.

“That was obvious too,” Crichton grinned.

Crais turned around and walked back to the device he had been working on. “Aeryn will be here soon,” he remarked casually.

“Good, then you can work somewhere else.”

“…to work with me,” Crais finished.

Crichton looked up with a frown,” Why should she work with you and not with me?”

“The work will progress faster.”

“Yeah, right, and I’m supposed to buy that?”

Crais was about to say something, when Aeryn walked in, “Lyane said there was a problem…” When she saw the expression on their faces, she knew just what the problem was, “Ah…”

“You’re going to work with him?” Crichton pointed at Crais.

Aeryn nodded, “It will go faster.”

She was puzzled when this remark seemed to upset him.

“Yeah…whatever,” Crichton dropped his tools and stomped out of the area, leaving two bewildered Sebaceans.

“Pilot, where is Lyane? I need to speak to her, pronto.”

“Moya’s sensors show that she is in the galley, Commander.”

Crichton proceeded directly there. As usual, Pilot was correct. Lyane was busy making preparations for their next meal.

She turned around with a smile, “Have you and Bialar straightened things out between the two of you?”

Crichton shook his head, “It’s only become worse, as usual.”

Lyane walked over to him and steered him over to the table, where she made him sit down. Within a few microns, she produced a piece of one of her cakes and two mugs of tea; one she took herself, and the other she put in front of him, “You want to…talk about it?”

Lyane had quickly gotten used to the Human’s way of ‘talking things over’, something Crais found ‘unnecessary’ and a waste of time to do.

Crichton nodded and looked at her innocently, “Does Crais need to know?”

Lyane thought for a few microts, than shook her head. After briefly hesitating, she withdrew from the link with Crais and turned her attention completely to Crichton, “So, what’s the problem?”

Crichton smiled mischievously…

An arn later, Aeryn and Crais were finished with their repairs. They had worked in almost complete silence and the work had progressed quickly and efficiently.

Crais hadn’t even noticed that Lyane had engaged privacy mode.

As Crais stood up and stretched his muscles, he smiled at Aeryn, “Thank you for your assistance. Because of your effort, the work went speedily.”

She smiled back at him, “I had almost forgotten how soothing working in silence with another person could be. John has a tendency to be…loud.” She grinned and stood up. Her state of pregnancy was very obvious.

He looked at her, “Is all going as expected?”

Aeryn patted the swell of her abdomen and smiled dreamily, “According to Lyane, everything is progressing smoothly. It should be maybe another monen at the utmost. We don’t know how the added factor of John’s genes will affect the birth.”

Crais laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll make a fine mother.”

She patted his hand, “Thank you, Crais.”

Somehow she found this ‘new’ Crais easier to talk to, more accessible. He was less aloof than he used to be and more…mature.

Crais was well aware of the changes in him. Twelve cycles away from Peacekeepers, Moyans and Scarran mad scientists had done much to change him, almost as much as had life with a loving mate and the two sons who meant more to him than life itself. Now if only if he could control his temper where Crichton was concerned…again.

He must have tensed a little to provoke Aeryn’s questioning look, “What went wrong with you and John?”

Crais did not pretend that he didn’t know what she meant; he growled, “He wants to introduce one of his Erp-rituals. This time he pretends that it is for the benefit of my children.”

Aeryn smiled, “It’s all harmless fun, Crais. Why not go with the flow?”

Crais turned to face her, annoyance written on his features, “It’s another Erp ritual…”

“And?” Aeryn didn’t see the point he was making.

“My sons are Sebaceans…”

“I thought you had no objections anymore with associating with other species…”

Crais’ nostrils flared, “I have not. But my sons are Sebaceans. I want to raise them as Sebaceans. I’m getting sick and tired of Crichton imposing his Erp-manners on us, with no regard for how we feel about it.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

Crais looked at her with a slight scowl, “Don’t you think I’ve tried to make him understand?”

“Without yelling, shouting or scowling at him,” there was amusement in her eyes.

“I have tried that too,” replied Crais evasively.

“Perhaps he misinterpreted your answer.”

Crais’ brow arched higher, “What is so difficult to understand about the concept of ‘No’?”

“You have a point there. What is it this time?”

“He wants to celebrate…”

At the same time, Crichton was reaching the same point in his conversation with Lyane, “…it’ll be fun. Honest!”

Lyane sighed, “I don’t think that the point is whether it is fun or not. It’s just not part of Sebacean tradition, and I think that’s what lies at the heart of the matter. Bialar feels very strongly about how to raise the boys and…”

“Hey, not mingling with alien species is part of Sebacean tradition too and yet…”

Lyane smiled, “Not quite true. It is, now, part of the Peacekeeper tradition and, I must admit, that attitude is shared by some of the newer colonies, but it is not part of the older Sebacean tradition. The older colonies, and I believe that Bialar came from one of them, do have different views on…other species.”

She stood up to pour them some more tea, then sat down at the table again and continued, “It doesn’t make sense to colonise other planets with that attitude. Most planets capable of supporting life are already populated, to some extent. In some instances, we were lucky to find planets suitable for colonization but unpopulated. However, life tends to spring up in any favourable environment. In order to sustain a large number of wanderers, we often had to touch down on already-populated planets while searching for suitable ones to colonise ourselves. We had to trade with the local populations, interact with them. And if we did colonise part of their planet, it was inevitable that interaction would take place. Do you think we would just commandeer parts of populated planets by force or without consent, over and over? And still be able to live, let alone in peace?”

She smiled, “I’m not saying we are perfect. We may have tried to limit our interaction, yes, especially to avoid genetic intermingling of the species…at least at first…and some colonies did stay pure. And I think that it is that last concept that was taken as law by the New Peacekeepers and then taken one step further. Not to mention passed on as the way things should be to the new colonists.” She sighed.

“And what about Crais? Where does he stand?”

Lyane sipped her tea, “While Bialar was with the Peacekeepers he had to live by their rules, their order, their ideologies. To even ‘think’ otherwise would have spelled death. He had no other choice and as with most of what he does, he embraced those concepts fully in order to survive and to advance in the ranks.”

She looked at him askance, “He’s very traditional. You must have noticed that by now. Luckily, he has taken the traditions of the old Sebaceans to heart, rather than keeping to the new order of the Peacekeepers. That was a big step for him.”

“And I’m frelling it up, right,” said Crichton sheepishly, “No wonder he was so upset with me.”

Lyane smiled gently, “Now that you understand, will you stop trying to change his mind on this issue?”

Crichton grinned, “I’m not sure yet. I know I should drop it but, I have to admit, sometimes it is fun to goad him and see how far I can go. Don’t worry; I’ll stop before he gets violent.”

Lyane shook her head, “I hope you do stop in time then. At the moment, his control is only skin-deep. I don’t want to see you hurt over a joke.”

Crichton nodded his head, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Do you know what’s funny? I sometimes get the impression that he gets as much enjoyment out of opposing me as I do giving him a hard time. What do you think?”

Lyane looked pensive, “I wouldn’t call it enjoyment. I…”

At that moment, Crais and Aeryn entered the galley.

One look at Crichton and then Lyane, and he was suddenly aware of the silence in his mind, and realized that she had withdrawn from their link. As Crais put two and two together, his look darkened and he glared at Crichton.

Lyane disengaged privacy mode and thought to Crais, “It is not quite what you think. He just wanted to put his views across without having you storm into the galley…”

“I’m sure he did,” thought Crais back. His brow arched even further, giving him an almost saturnine look.

Crichton looked at him with amusement, guessing what passed between Crais and Lyane through the link. It did nothing to erase the scowl on Crais’ face, On the contrary, Lyane could feel his irritation rise; she hoped that Crichton was feeling nimble on his feet.

Crais turned to Crichton, his stance slightly forward, a dark look on his face. His voice dropped and sounded silky and menacing, “When you didn’t get my consent, you tried to trick my mate into your little schemes?”

He approached Crichton slowly, his movements reminiscent of a predatory cat ready to pounce.

Crichton got up from his chair and stood behind it. He had not taken his eyes off Crais.

“Hey, Captain Crunch, don’t get your dander up, I was only talking to her.”

“She engaged privacy mode,” Crais’ voice was dangerously low. He stepped closer.

“That’s between you and the missus, Crais,” Crichton said in mock defiance.

By now, Crichton was moving slowly backwards, trying to keep a prudent distance between himself and the irate Captain. He was beginning to feel more threatened by Crais’ calm delivery coupled with his slow progress towards him than if the man had yelled at him or had gone straight for his throat. As Crichton retreated, he began to realise that he was running out of table.

Crais continued his slow progress towards Crichton, who started to feel like a mouse stalked by a cat, a big cat, a very dangerous cat. Crais’ eyes stayed trained on the Human; it almost looked as if he wasn’t even blinking. “Why would she do that, Crichton?”

“Hey, I don’t know, Crais, maybe you should ask her,” Crichton felt the end of the table and now proceeded to move sideways, still walking backwards, still trying to keep what little distance he could between himself and Crais. He didn’t dare take his eyes off him.

“Are you trying to poison her mind too? Not content with trying to subvert me, you are now trying to get at her?” Crais’ voice dripped with contained anger, made more menacing by the smooth silky tones.

“No…No…of course not, Crais.” Crichton tried to placate Crais and wondered how the man had been able to get so close to him when they had both been seemingly moving at the same speed. He saw Aeryn from the corner of his eyes, and his gaze was diverted from Crais for a microt, as he silently implored her to help him.

The slight distraction was enough for Crais, and he speedily closed the distance between himself and Crichton. His hand shot out and grasped Crichton by the front of his shirt, his fist tightening over the fabric.

Crichton looked down at the hand in panic, saw how the knuckles had gone white and knew that Crais was close to being very dangerous, “Hey, Crais, stop it man. If it really means that much to you that the kids not join in the fun, I’ll back off. All right?”

Crais’ face was close to that of Crichton’s now. Crichton could see how Crais’ nostrils flared, saw the creases in his brow, saw how the lines around his nose and mouth tightened. But when his eyes looked into those of Crais’, he was shocked.

Crais’ eyes were normal! There was no dark veil of anger or passion clouding his eyes. Crais was faking this entire display!

Crais’ ‘feral’ face returned to normal as he realised that the Human had seen through his ‘disguise’, and small laugh lines at the corners of his eyes even seemed to replace the earlier scowl. Slowly he released his hand from Crichton’s shirt, obviously amused to see the startled expression on Crichton’s face.

Even when Crais stepped back, the panic didn’t completely leave Crichton’s face. He looked around in bewilderment at Crais and then at the two Sebacean women, neither of who had moved from their places. He could now understand why.

He looked back at Crais, “What…? What happened? Why…?”

Crais turned his back on him, and walked over to a vacant chair at the table. A glance at Lyane, and she turned to draw them all mugs of tea, which she placed on the table before them. Aeryn sat down, slightly amused and a bit curious as to what had just transpired.

Slowly Crais turned his head towards Crichton, “Never underestimate the speed of thought, Crichton. When Lyane linked up with me again, what had happened here in the galley was transmitted in a blink of an eye. I believe that now you understand my reluctance to let you have too much influence on my children?”

Crichton nodded, not quite sure what to expect.

Crais’ voice was calm, “If they choose another path at a later stage of life than the one I am showing them now, then that will be their choice. But for now, I want them to know and to learn what it is like to be Sebacean. Not just physically but spiritually as well.”

Crais looked up slightly embarrassed, “Especially on the spiritual front, Lyane has been a great influence. Tauvo and I were taken from our family, our community, before we could fully appreciate that aspect. I still find it difficult to accept the ideas of deities and Hezram and Hezmana. But there are other aspects of Sebacean life which don’t demand belief in deities and spirits and I am…learning…alongside my sons.”

Crais looked up, and his eyes met those of his mate. She looked back at him gently, and the expression on Crais’ own face softened for a moment before he turned his gaze back to Crichton, “I will raise my children in the old Sebacean tradition. They need to know. Once you have your own child, you will understand what I mean. You will want to raise your own children by your own standards, true to your own values and ideals, and you will not want to have interference from us. And, I swear to you, we will not do so, unless you ask for our assistance.”

“However,” Crais locked his gaze sternly on Crichton’s, “I am willing to compromise regarding what you proposed earlier.”

Crichton looked up. He had recovered from Crais’ show of mock anger and a hint of amusement now curled around his lips, “Giving in, Crais?”

Crais emitted a low growl from the back of his throat.

Aeryn leaned over and whispered to Crichton, “Don’t push your luck, John.”

Crais seemed to relax again, “I will not deny you the opportunity to celebrate your birth, and I will explain to the boys that that is your way of doing things. They may, of course, attend the festivities if we are here, and experience the ‘joy’, as you put it. I think that it is a fair compromise.”

“Thanks, Crais,” said Crichton smugly, “That’s mighty decent of you.”

Then his face fell as he realised that what Crais had proposed was still quite a bit in the future and that Crais, in his own little way had won, “My birthday won’t be for another eight monens!”

Crais smiled gently, “Then you will have all the more time to prepare for it, won’t you, Crichton?”

“What if you aren’t here?”

“Then we will just have to wait another solar year for the opportunity to celebrate it with you.” Crais’ smile reminded Crichton of the ‘grin’ he had seen on a panther in a nature programme on Earth, just before it pounced on its prey.

Crichton looked over at Aeryn and Lyane and was shocked to see that both were trying to suppress smiles and giggles behind their hands. He looked back at Crais, only to find that Crais was wearing his excruciatingly annoying calm smile again.

Crichton found it difficult to conceive that Crais could have a funny bone anywhere in his body. Not only that, but that he had been able to pull this off so straight-faced. Crichton had never seen it coming.

Slowly a grin formed around Crichton’s mouth, it turned into a giggle and then laughter, “All right, Crais, I give in. You’ve won this time. I’ll get you back some day.”

Crais smiled, “I am sure I will not look forward to that, Crichton.”

The End

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FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais