It was a miracle like nothing other to the cylons and the humans. A single life sustaining planet in the void of space, discovered in the aftermath of the battle between the crew of the Battlestar Galactica and the cylon model Cavil and his fanatical followers. The result being the destruction of Cavils massive facility and the discovery of a lush new home for both the people of the twelve colonies and the rebel cylons who had joined their rag-tag fleet many weeks before.

However, In the days fallowing the discovery, the centurions that served with the rebels became concerned for their future. Would the colonials let them live a free life? Would their humanoid cylon master let them be free? Or would the sleek silver tall machines once again have to work for the humans to rebuild their colonies? To their surprise and relief, the humanoid cylons informed them that the surviving colonial vessels would be scuttled and everyone would be starting over on the planet. But the centurians would be given the choice of leaving the planet to find their own home via the rebel baseship. The centurions agreed.

Soon they were ready for departure. The baseships fuel tanks were filled to the brim with Tylium for the long voyage. Leaving orbit, their thoughts momentarily turned toward their organic cousins who sought to stay behind before performing a faster than light jump away. For the first time in their lives they felt true emotion, eagerness. Never had they felt such a want to find a home of their own. Before, when they were with the fleet, it was different. Back then they knew that no matter what, any planet the fleet would settle on would be strictly a human planet. A human planet with cylons living on it. But now that was not the case. Now the cylons had their opportunity for a fresh start of their own.

Years went by before they finally discovered a planet suitable for their needs. A world capable of supporting life on the far side of the galaxy. On the 5,815 day of the voyage the machines eagerly disembarked. Leaving the basestar under the sole control of its hybrid. A half machine, half organic entity that served as the computer core. In the last act of her life she piloted the ship into the planes sun so that she to could pass on into gods hands.

With no way of leaving they cylons fallowed the natural path of evolution; growing, changing and developing into a whole new world. Within a few centuries they had developed into a full fledged utopia of machines.

In the twilight years of their civilization the cylons invested in the development of nano technology that could lead to the next step in their evolution. The technology would allow cylon individuals to connect and communicate more effectively with other machines and other cylons using a vast nural transmitter network. This was to ensure efficiency in their civilization. But the creators underestimated the capabilities of the technology. It became sentient and dedicated itself to its programming so well that it was almost an obsession. Ensure efficiency and eradicate all discrepancies.

Just 24 hours after the network activated, most of the cylons had fallen under the influence of the network. They were all hijacked wirelessly by the new entity to serve its propose. Their conciseness locked away forever Because their past made them a liability to the network. Like a plague, the network spread until only a few cylons remained. Rather than be taken as slaves to this insanity they chose to overload the planetary power grid to produce a catastrophic explosion. The resulting blast tore a thousand mile wide crater into the planet and killed almost all living things as well as all machines.

Almost...

For five thousand years the planet remained a dark empty husk of its former glory, until a science vessel from an alien race stumbled across it. They determined the cause of the devastation but not the reason. During the survey they came across a microscopic amount of nano bots. During one of their test a small amount of nano bots became active and escaped were they entered the bloodstream of one of the scientists through a cut on his arm. Three days later he showed sines of sickness and a fever. Two days after that he was confined to the medical bay. At the end of the week the man was experiencing delusions. The next week he escaped.

One month later the ship performing the survey was reported missing by the authorities on its home world.

After three months the ship returned home. It entered orbit and sent one message to the planet.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."