Crais was surprised that they all went down. Guiding the pod down felt a bit cramped with everyone on board. He wondered what was in the satchel and he stole furtive glances at it. But there was nothing in the shapes inside that would give it away.

Ka D'Argo was still dressed in the hideous outfit and Crais shuddered. Aeryn had a smaller satchel with her as well and Crais wondered what she would be wearing. Hopefully not something like what the Luxan wore.

He breathed in deeply. Once they were down he might get a clue to what this contest was all about. At least the prospect of obtaining some suitable non-PK clothes was beginning to appeal to him more and more.

Crais guided the pod safely down and it wasn't long before everyone was standing outside the tailor's shop. Crais felt uncomfortable when he saw the different outfits displayed in the shop window. Some of them made the Luxan's look common by comparison. He turned to Aeryn. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Yes, Crais, there is nothing to worry about. Let's go inside."

To his relief, the others decided to go to the restaurant they had mentioned earlier and only Aeryn followed him in. The tailor came scurrying up to Crais and Aeryn from behind a black curtain almost immediately.

He was almost what Crichton would have called 'humanoid', except for the extra set of arms, and vaguely 'buggy' looking eyes. (To a Sebacean, the concept of 'Sebaceanoid' would have been anathema.)

"Oh, Captain, sir" he (?) called out in a rather high-pitched voice. "It is so good to see you again. You were pleased with the garments that I constructed for you last time? You wish for me to make you more?"

He unwound the tape measure in his top left hand and began to mutter to himself, "Yes, yes, Let's just see..."

Bialar's attention was drawn to the bolts of fabric and displays of clothing and accessories in various stages of completion. He still had no idea why everyone but he himself seemed to recollect his earlier visit to this planet.

Aeryn noticed Crais' absent look while the tailor scurried around him, lifting his arm, bending the elbow, measuring the inside of his leg.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Huh? Yes, I am all right," Crais returned from his reverie, "Just looking for the right colours. I was thinking that maybe that Tharovian black silk would be nice."

Aeryn shook her head, "Black again? Why not the same cream and brown you decided on last time? It really did look spectacular on you. I seem to remember more than one attractive female whose eye you caught during the last round. The material was just as fine, and sturdier besides.

"You really do need a change, you know. Order several outfits, and make one of them the black silk, but provide yourself with something that will offer you camouflage the next time you have to visit a commerce planet. None of us will begrudge you this. We certainly owe you more than the handful of crindars that 2 or 3 sets of clothing will cost."

Crais coloured slightly with her words. He could do with some more outfits than the few he carried. The tunic was getting a bit threadbare and he was aware of some slight fraying at the cuffs. He just didn't have the credits for more than the essentials. "That is most gracious of you, Aeryn," he said to hide his embarrassment.

"Gracious has nothing to do with it. You've pulled our eemas out of danger more than once, yet you never ask for anything in return. We are glad if we can finally do something in return for you. At least give us the chance once in a while to do so."

Crais looked away with a slightly painful look on his face, "There is no need to..."

"Frell, Crais. Just say "yes" and forget about it," Aeryn was losing her temper, "Anyway, you want to look your best at the contest."

"Ah, yes, about the contest..."

Aeryn rested her hand on his sleeve. "Bialar, you'll do just fine. You did last time, once you set your mind to it."

Aeryn turned to the tailor and offered him a small pouch. "Aasshrecht, we still have some credits left over from the other order and I have another hundred crindars here. The Captain needs your services again. If this is not sufficient payment, you may present us with a bill when we pick up the remainder of the order and rest assured we will settle the account. For now, the Captain needs one outfit as soon as possible. We don't have that much time before the opening ceremonies. Now, Crais, lets see what we can find to suit you."

Aasshrecht took Crais by his elbow and walked past the rolls of cloth, now and again stopping to hold a colour next to Crais' face. Shaking his head now and again or receiving a scowl from Crais when he picked up a colour which made Crais cringe, he finally said, "Are you sure you don't want to use the cream again? I believe we went through this last time and in the end, you only wanted to settle on the cream."

Crais nodded, "Very well, cream it is, but I want it with black trousers this time.

Aasshrecht nodded happily, "It will be done."

Crais held him back, "You have a drawing to show me what it will look like?"

"It will be the same cut as last time..."

"A drawing" This time it was not a request.

"All right." Peacekeepers....

He came back with a drawing. Crais nodded. He could live with that. He stopped the man again, "What is the contest about?"

Aasshrecht looked at him with big eyes, "You should know. You are going to be a participant. Why... oh, you are pulling Aasshrecht's middle appendage! Oh, Captain, you are so funny, not at all like they say Peacekeepers are..."

Crais glared at the tailor.

Aasshrecht hurriedly added... "Oh Captain, please forgive! Aasshrecht means no harm. Why, you are the first Peacekeeper that Aasshrecht has ever met in person. Aasshrecht has heard such stories, but he knows better now than to believe them... You have been most kind to Aasshrecht, yes..." as he furiously bowed and backed away a step or three.

Aeryn had wandered away to examine some of the available material, but now she approached the two of them again and saw the danger signs of Crais' well known impatience appear on his brow. She felt sorry for Aasshrecht, "Have you been able to make up your mind yet, Crais?"

Crais turned to Aeryn, "We have decided on cream and black. I approve of Aasshrecht's design." He tried to placate the tailor by giving him a strained smile.

Aeryn smiled at Aasshrecht, "Don't worry, pre-contest nerves."

She turned back to Crais, "Of course you do, Crais, you approved of the design last time, why should this time be different? Last time you even commended Aasshrecht on both his design and his workmanship. You told us before you left that you might want to commission another set of garments upon your return. You know, Bialar, once upon a time, neither of us would have thought to praise a tech for a job well done, much less a tailor. We have both changed much since we left the Peacekeepers.

"Even the contest came as a surprise. None of us would have even thought that you would be the one to suggest it. John couldn't stop talking about it until days after you had left to make the arrangements. Chiana and Ka D'Argo warmed to the idea immediately. I had to admit to having my doubts but after we won the first round and then continued, I knew you had us on a potential winner. What made you decide to go for it?"

Crais had no idea how to answer this. He still had not been able to determine what was happening here. Everything was 'wrong', although at least for once there seemed to be no mortal crisis at hand.

"Officer Sun, it appears that we are both fated to spend the rest of our lives away from the Peacekeeper regime which was everything to us and ruled our lives."

A wry smile appeared fleetingly.

"We have been through much, both Talyn and me, and you and the others on Moya. Even as Peacekeepers, we were assigned occasional recreation periods. This contest would seem to be a rare and perfect chance to relieve the constant stress we find ourselves under. Do you not agree? Tell me, what memory of the contest do you value most so far?"

Aeryn thought for a moment, "Hmm, there was winning the first round, of course..."

Crais tried to look pleasant and patient. His smile was almost pained with the tension.

Aeryn looked about, "I know, it was when you started your sequence..., (Crais looked expectantly) but you remember that better than I do."

He balled his hands on his back, the knuckles nearly shining white, and there was a slight nervous catch in his throat, "I would like to hear it from you. One always has different perceptions of oneself."

"Oh, Crais, what's this? Getting shy?"

"No, Aeryn, I really would like to know how you saw it," Crais feared that he might lose his temper.

"All right," said Aeryn, "You had just entered the arena and the crowd had settled. You could hear a pin drop, when..."

At that moment the door opened and Crichton peered in, "You two finished yet?"

The murderous glare he received from Crais would have been enough to scare a Tavlek.

Crais turned back to Aeryn, but she had already left his side, and was proceeding toward the black curtain, behind which Aasshrecht had scuttled.

Meanwhile, Crichton, apparently not gifted with the common sense of a Tavlek, seemed totally oblivious to the withering look he had received. He stepped inside the little shop, and threw his right arm around Crais' shoulder.

"Crais, my boy, this is going to be a thing of beauty. You know, I never would have thought you had it in you. But I have to admit you've sure surprised me. Looks to me like more than one Peace-, er, Ex-Peacekeeper I know has it in her... him to be "more"."

Crais was not often caught speechless, but he found this turn of events hard to believe. He was not sure how to handle this sudden "friendship" of Crichton.

He gave a small frown to the arm placed around his shoulders but Crichton, with the sense of a drannit, had not noticed Crais' scowl and left his arm around his shoulders. "I would never have thought you would go through with it but you did, and we got far, very far." Crichton grinned at him. "I bet even you didn't believe we would get as far as we did? You have to admit the combination was... is most unlikely. Two Ex-Peacekeepers and two of their former charges. Of course, the crowd doesn't know that and luckily they don't give a biography of the contestants or we would have lost right at the first round. Still the combination is most remarkable."

Crais tried the same tactic he had used on Aeryn. He knew it was successful with her... until Crichton came in and had to spoil it. He managed to make a smile appear on his face, "What do you remember best of the contest?"

"Why, the applause, Cap'n Crunch, the applause of the crowd and the announcement of the judges that we had made the cut. How many times since we entered the Uncharted Territories have we ever been left in peace, much less actually been cheered and acclaimed? I thought I'd forgotten what it was like to be welcomed instead of hunted."

Crais was making a vain attempt to hide his annoyance with the answer he got from the Jhumon. He was trying to decide whether he was more annoyed by the arm still draped across his shoulder or the fact that this Erpman had just stepped neatly right across the trap set for him. Had he been more familiar with Erply things, he would have felt an absurd identification with Wile E. Coyote, or perhaps a cat named Sylvester.

Crichton paused momentarily and said, "Oh, yeah, sorry. Bad habits die hard. I really should lose the whole "Cap'n Crunch" thing, shouldn't I? But you know, Bialar, somehow you just don't lend yourself to nicknames."

"I hope you will refrain from finding more "nicknames" to apply to me, Crichton. They are rather... insulting."

"Hey, I said I'm sorry, Crais. Don't you ever loosen up?"

Crais realised that his own annoyance had just lost him the opportunity to get Crichton to tell him more about the contest. At least he had taken his arm off his shoulders.

Crichton cocked his head at Crais, "If I didn't know any better, I could almost believe that you are reverting to your old self again. I had thought you had loosened up over the last cycle. Hopefully it's just pre-contest blues. I was really getting used to you letting your hair hang down."

Crais frowned. Why would he loosen his hair? He had done so on occasion when visiting a potentially dangerous Commerce planet and had found some obscurity in it but as far as he knew he had never done this on Moya.

Crichton smiled at his expression, "I hope you are not going to wear that face to the contest. Why, people might believe that you were here under duress. Admit it, Crais, you know that you've enjoyed the contest so far. You even looked like you were drawing a bit of a fan club there for a while. Things have been so much better on Moya this past cycle. You know, Aeryn's not the only one who's been glad to have the new, improved Bialar Crais around. Even I admit that I like having you around. I missed you when you had to leave so suddenly, and for a while we were worried that you wouldn't make it back in time for the contest. I am so glad that you did." Crichton grinned.

Crais searched the Jhumon's face for insincerity but found none. He should have felt comforted by that idea but he couldn't. Something just wasn't right.