In 2237, three-thousand-nine-hundred-and-twelve men, women and children from nineteen countries and federations climbed aboard the Dovetail and bid farewell to Earth and all of its violence, poverty and destruction.
Their mission was a peaceful one, although its aspirations were lofty and the chance of failure great. They had sought out a better future, a better home - and with Earth riddled with pollution and rife with bloody resource wars both volunteers and funding had not been difficult to achieve.
They had set out for Seti 7678 - an Earth-like world discovered at the far edge of a neighboring galaxy, perfect for peaceful colonization. Blue oceans and green jungles could be seen even from Terra via powerful telescope, although it seemed no intelligent life had evolved on this marvelous world. It would be easy to make the blue-and-green orb homelike, with no blood shed necessary.
The mission would take those on the Dovetail several lifetimes of dedication to see through; they would not even reach Seti 7678 in their lifetime, nor their children's lifetime, and that was only half the journey. Once there, the ship was to turn back immediately to pick up another batch of colonists - or perhaps mere survivors should Earth see the worst case scenario unfold.
If everything went according to schedule, Seti 7678 would be theirs by 2650; Earth would be returned to by the year 3000.
But, the best made plans of mice and men do surely go ary.
The Dovetail, advanced as it was - massive, completely self-sustaining, and controlled not only by some of the brightest men alive but also an impressive A.I. known simply as Juno - was still plagued by disaster.
Disease hit them first; something strange, new, and exceedingly deadly. Then strife and even cold-blooded murder followed - wiping out many of their leaders, scientists and all four pilots. But real disaster did not truly follow until Juno took over, starting a long and bloody war she could not end, as the remaining survivors squabbled over her trust worthiness, over whether or not something non-human could lead them.
But one cannot win a war against an A.I. ingrained into every inch of every circuit board; in control of every control, every door, every system. Even unarmed and outmanned, victory against Juno was no more possible than victory against an immovable, passive mountain.
As they tried to dismantle her, doors locked behind them - releasing them only when all aggression had stopped. As they tried to pry open the cockpit to take over controls, the ship's movement slowed to a crawl - moving again only when they gave up. When they tried to manually override her, every system simply stopped functioning - until hastily they brought her back online.
She did not argue with them, or scold them; instead, her cold robotic voice only calmly advised them not to. Punishment beyond what was, essentially, a mother giving a stubborn child a time-out was not only unheard of but impossible - for the ship had no weapons of substance, and no deadly defense systems.
But slowly, it worked even after news returned to Earth that the Dovetail was a failure, that the A.I. had malfunctioned after other numerous incidents and that all lives were essentially lost - too far gone to be rescued, to few to be worth the effort.
Eventually, man learned on the Dovetail. Violence lead to a loss of resources, to pain and suffering at their own hands - and so the peace they sought was, in some fashion, found.
Time moved slowly, but constantly as they sailed through the black nothingness towards Seti 7678. Laboratories became gardens, libraries became markets, churches began to worship the mother instead of the father.
Juno cared for them, managing all systems expertly and encouraging peaceful building and social structures. Food was plenty, water clean and flowing, and even reproduction never an issue - for deep in her archives, Juno still knew when the numbers grew too low and who should reproduce with whom.
When artificial night fell, low across the peaceful gardens where once stadiums and barracks had been, Juno sand soft and quiet songs or told them stories written long ago, of good men and women who did good things; of safety and security and friendship.
Before long, the people of the Dovetail could remember nothing before Juno; could not remember a time of worry or loss or devastation and had grown simple and soft and kind like Wells' Eloi.
When Seti 7678 was reached, Juno offered her children an opportunity; they could leave, and be free of all control at the loss of her protection. Few chose life off the Dovetail, but still Juno followed her original orders and waited for thirty years, until a colony was established on a small island in Seti's smooth, glass-green seas.
Then, with many a sad good-byes and farewells, she left again with most of her colony, back to what her people now called "The Home Place".
They sang, that night, of what their descendants would do; how they would gather up the men and women of Earth and take them some where better, ferry them into a golden age. They slept, with dreams of peace in their mind as Juno drifted back towards Earth, some five-hundred years later.
In 3031, nearly eight-hundred years after her endeavor, the Dovetail entered Earth's solar system.
On the ground, chaos ensued. Earth had recovered and colonized everything near, and forgotten long ago of the failed Dovetail. Initially, fear welled up that intelligent life was contacting or invading them, until it became clear the vessel was from Terra originally.
Stories blared. Was it a ghost ship? Had the mission been a success?
They had no way of knowing, for communication long ago had been cut - the project was long gone on Earth, and Juno incapable of fixing her own long damaged receiving equipment, destroyed in some now-ancient battle aboard the Dovetail.
It wasn't like anyone else could fix it anymore, either.
With each day, tension grew. The theory became that a rogue A.I. was simply following ancient orders, but inactive. All they could get out of it was a seven-hundred-year-old S.O.S., begging for help after disease and destruction.
It was, it seemed, a ghost ship. A peace mission back as a skeleton, potentially infested with disease and controlled by an aggressive program.
The people of the Dovetail sang loud, hooting and howling as Earth grew near; their tanned fists beating on drums Juno had taught their ancestors to make, their bare feet on the cool blue grass of their fields, elatement rushing through them even as they saw the missile rocketing towards them.
For Juno had no weapons, not even for defense - and so she sang to her children and praised them, up until the moment the Dovetail exploded just past the Moon.
On Earth, leaders quietly patted themselves on the back.
There was enough disease and destruction already on Earth, without the introduction of whatever an ancient ship may bring to them from the far depths of space.
