The Epilogue

The harvest season on Tah came early that cycle. The seasonably warm weather was ideal for the twenty million Draegen colonists who relocated there. Biological scans prior to their arrival had failed to detect the dormant virus in the callah rhizomes. Death came swiftly and without warning. The absence of symptoms during the virus' inoculation period allowed the plague to be transmitted to the home world before the first signs of illness manifested themselves.

Within a weeken of the pollen's release, over three million died on Tah, and twice that number on the planet Draegen. A monen later, with the exception of the ruling family and the hierarchy who had escaped to underground bunkers, it was over. Thousands of ships floated lifelessly between the two planets, their inhabitants seeking to flee the horror, yet too late.

Eight monen after they fled their homes, the people of Tah returned and began to rebuild. The ex-Peacekeeper Captain Bialar Crais returned with them. Of those who remained behind on the planet, only a handful survived the holocaust. The largest group of seventy people eluded capture under the command of the only member of the Tah strike force to escape death . . . an Astra pilot shot down during the assault on Mu'Lahr.

As the Scarren-Peacekeeper war raged across the quadrant, refugees of countless species sought out the freedom and safety of Sector 12. The populations of the planets Tah, Mayatta7, Tarn and a dozen others grew and became diverse.

While he made good his vow to never again to be a soldier, Bialar Crais was instrumental in founding the Colonial Peacekeepers, a military force created to protect the newly formed coalition of planets. Other Tah names would become their cornerstone, soldiers dedicated to the preservation of freedom, among them, Ke'air Masahje, Tenis Dauscho and Trinn DuSett.

Two cycles after returning to Tah, Toma Crais gave birth to twin sons, Tauvo and Talyn. A midborn daughter, Ke'airah Nimm, came a cycle later.

Ultimately, Bialar Crais' destiny was to be that of neither soldier nor farmer, but of husband and father, educator and constituent. His past never found him. As the names Crichton, Aeryn . . . Scorpius faded, so too did the dark fragments of his life until like moon shadows, they floated harmless through his memory, distant reminders of a long, cold night that in the end gave way to morning.