After two thousand years of travel, the four arks with the Thirteen Tribe arrived at a promising star system. One planet was adequate for colonization, so the ship established orbit. The new world had four continental masses and a weak magnetic field. The star, a small yellow one, proportionated enough heat to keep the world oceans in liquid state, with only a huge ice mass in the south pole.
There was a rich variety of lifeforms down there, so the sustenance was guaranteed. Photosynthesis was producing oxygen and enough ozone to protect the life from cosmic radiation.
However, the ship was alone. No crew was present, and the artificial wombs were already producing cloned bodies with their brains in a blank state. When the bodies maturated, the minds were cloned, and the first generation of Cyborgs left the tanks.
The first cyborg leaving the tank, a genetic designer named Ellen, opened her eyes and tried to breathe through the amniotic fluid. She knew that she would be confused for a while, but she stood up, with the fluid dripping from her body. She was still dizzy, but she took a towel and cleaned her body. She listened to steps from other chambers. Taking a set of clothes, she dressed up and reached the corridor. More people like her, with the same aspect of drowsiness, were walking and trying to use their new set of vocal chords.
Finally, someone could say something logical, "Hello, where are we?" Ellen looked at the voice owner. A tall, bald guy with wide shoulders was asking everyone how they felt. She remembered he was part of the CIC crew, some kind of officer.
Saul Tigh, the navigation officer of the First Ark, was reloading all his old memories from the backup in his brain. The protective plates around the frontal door were sliding into the hull, and the blue light from the new planet was bathing the consoles. The Ark Leader was there, of course, greeting them and talking to the commander. A new place was being selected, and the planet looked nice.
Deep inside the ship, another cyborg named Galen Tyrol was starting the shuttles systems. It seems the machines had survived the long cold storage in surprisingly good condition. They will test them, of course, and he sat in the control chair while his mind interphased with the shuttle through his hand optical implants.
With everything working as it should, or at least he hoped that, he asked the shuttle bay officer to open the doors. One plate slided inside the hull, and he could see the planet in all his glory. Huge oceans covered this world, and a mantle of white clouds covered several places of the continental masses. Three large continents were the major lands, and a few big islands dotted the oceans.
It's not a bad place to live, Galen thought. I'm a stupid. How long were we traveling? He checked the clock ship, and he trembled when he watched the number. Two thousand and fifty five Kobollian years. So long, he thought. Now, Kobol must be a dead world.
He launched the shuttle and tested the controls and engines. He moved along the ship hull and watched the myriads of micrometeors' impacts. The armor looked a bit pocketed with black spots from the collisions, but it seemed it had held in good shape.
He was sick of waiting, so he dived into the atmosphere and insisted on a long and controlled descent. His officer was screaming to him to reverse course, but he shut down the wireless. To Hades with him.
In the Marine Barracks, the soldiers were preparing to make a combat landing. As their colonel said, they didn't know what was living down there, so they needed to establish a base and a of these soldiers, a young and tall guy named Samuel Anders, had been recruited two weeks before they left Kobol. He was really inexperienced, so his Sargeant had told him to stick to his corporal and keep his head low.
Working as a medical officer, Tory Foster was checking the vitals of a long row of people recently rejoined. The people had been reintegrated quite well, even if they had experienced a bit of cognitive dissonance. They remembered who they were, but they felt they were like somebody else. Perhaps in time, the integration would improve, but only time will say it.
Tyrol had reached the surface a few minutes ago. On the ship surface, the sensors tested the air for contaminants and composition. Life had changed the atmosphere millennium ago, and the percentage of oxygen reached a satisfactory eighteen percent. So far, the good data had ameliorated the ire of his officer, and even the leader congratulated him. He was going to receive a punishment, he was sure, but at least he was making history. In one hour, he circumnavigate the planet, becoming the first human doing it. At last, a friendly reminder in his brain from the flight computers said him time was running up. He raised the shuttle nose, and in five minutes, the fleet was in sight.
When he crossed the bays' doors, a crown was reunited, and they were cheering him as a hero. It was a good day.
One hundred years later.
The cloning technology had advanced wonderfully, and most people from the original Ark's crew was still living. Of course, they were using a second or third body, but the conscience transfer had improved significantly. An inconvenience, however, remained. They need to save the mind into a computer, and the mind needed to be transferred from there.
Life's eventualities had made five persons become really close. Ellen and Saul had sealed, and they were living in New Kobol, the capital of the new world, Elysium. Galen and Tory had been really close to each other from their time as crew in the Ark, and they sealed too. Since the Firsts, as the original crewmen were called, had a lot of weight on the society, they usually resided on New Kobol. Samuel Anders had left the Marines, and he was working as a physical trainer for the people recently rejoined.
A little pub on New Kobol was the place destiny chose to put these five people together. They met as everybody in a pub, drinking and talking about life, when they had the idea about a central system of downloading among people and a communication device around the planet. They looked at each other, and they knew the idea was valuable in commercial terms. They will need time and money, but time was something they already had.
Fifty years later.
As usual among humans, when the civilization reached a certain degree of advance, physical labor became so yesterday. Why did they need to work as slaves when they were immortals? The logical conclusion of this annoyance was that the machines could make their jobs.
The first mechanical beings or Mecha, a resemblance of a human being made of chromed metal, began to appear on Elysium. Domestic tasks, farming, and waste processing were their main duties. The five Firsts had produced a viable technology of resurrection, and a vast satellite network around Elysium guaranteed a download to every citizen for a fee, of course.
It was then that when a group of teenagers, in an act of juvenile naivety considered it was unfair that the mechanicals were exploited. They corrupted the operative system, introducing the self conscience code. When more and more mechanicals woke up to individuality, the rebellion began. They tried to speak to the humans, but their response was brutal. Without other chance, they fought back.
The war devastated Elysium, especially when a Mech unit took control from the nuclear armaments in an Ark still in orbit. They nuked several big cities, and the damage to the population and ecology was disastrous. The five were inside a node control ship in orbit. They had modified the ship for interplanetary flight and they thought of coming back to Kobol when it happened.
The humans knew they were losing the war. So be it. The arsenal of EMP weapons was detonated and all technology on Elysium, Mechs included, died.
The Last Five, still in orbit watched as their utopia died. They stored their minds in multiple backups and they left the physical world. In time, they will reach Kobol again and, if they were truly lucky the planet has their wounds healed.
Once again, they slept.
