B I O M E C H A N O I D * A N G E L

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Issue #0 - "Yesterday"

Written by Andrew Perron and Edward Protera

—☆G☆—

[ The cover is green holofoil. It shows an outer space scene; a planet with the sun rising over its edge, giving sharp backlighting to the silhouette of what appears to be a shattered moon. Around the viewer's vantage point, the long, pointed noses of huge spaceships are aimed dead center on the planet below, its surface smeared with blotches of holofoiled silver. ]

—☆G☆—

    The unblinking mechanical eye of an AI-operated warship surveyed a world wracked by war and the sprawl of an unrelenting mechanical plague, orbiting high above, beneath the shattered remains of an alabaster moon, the fragments scorched and pockmarked with fresh scars. The consciousness behind that eye would heave a sigh, had it the breath to do so.

    The planet was dying – no; it was in the midst of its death rattle. Its feeble tremblings were a barely-heard gasp, begging for death – a request the construct knew it would have to oblige.

    Hundreds of other vessels, both manned and unmanned, floated solemn and silent, each positioned above one of the massive smears of tainted land that covered the planet they had called home. Every one of these nation-sized blotches of tarnished silver, gleaming dully in the sunlight, was a monument to the rot that had consumed their world.

    The sentience paused for several seconds, thinking, running through all of the options available, only to come to the same conclusion it had hundreds of times before. Total incineration of the planet's biosphere was the only way to destroy the planetborne infection at this point, and it knew this; it had ordered a planetwide evacuation in preparation. But what if there had been a better solution, only a simple calculation away?

    There was no use wasting clock cycles. As soon as the decision was made, it was carried out. The order was a simple one – "Fire." The AIís feminine voice, solemn and quiet, echoed through the bridges of the manned vessels, and through the electronic brains of those that were unmanned – but not uncrewed.

    Almost simultaneously, thousands of massive turrets swerved and locked into place at the command, shafts pointed at the planet far below like so many accusing fingers. Luminous green energy danced and arced across their yawning mouths, a glow rivalling that of the sun forming deep within. The vessels' other lights dimmed, then petered out entirely. Even the primal power of the mighty atom was dwarfed by the energies that poured into the batteries.

    Shafts of emerald light lanced to the planet below, outshining the jealous sun, scorching great swaths of land as the infection tried to retreat from their energy.

    And then it happened. All over the globe, massive fireballs began to spread. The atmosphere itself caught fire, incinerating the blight beyond recognition even as it fled. Oceans began to boil and entire forests burst aflame like twigs even before the waves hit, only to be reduced to ash and vapor in their wake.

    The beams of light died as the inferno began to gain a life of its own. The fleet drifted, silent and dark, high above. Several vessels lay shattered, torn apart as the terrible fury proved too great to contain, but most survived, remaining dark to mourn the immense loss they had inflicted upon themselves.

    And soon, it was done. The infection was purged. But in its place lay a truly dead planet, its surface charred and blackened. Feeble embers dotted the landscape, struggling to burn in the depleted atmosphere.

    And now? Now, they must rebuild. It would be long, and hard, but—

    Wait.

    The tumbling lunar fragments. A small subroutine had been idly plotting their trajectories, as one might drum one's fingers in tension. But there was one— no, three— no, a dozen pieces whose motion was outside the margin of error.

    Suddenly, instinctively – if entirely manufactured beings can be said to have instincts – it knew. A back-up plan. Seeds that lay waiting, waiting for the opportunity to flee to some other unfortunate world... and start the process over again.

    Orders blasted through the fleet, riding waves swifter by far than radio. Intercept! Disable! Destroy! The manned ships were still wholly blind, drifting under minimal power, and were slow to move as their reactors strained to reactivate. The AI ships were more ready by far, but the massive expenditure of energy had taken its toll on them as well, and the fleet, all in all, was only able to destroy nine of the seeds before they were able to shed their terrestrial husks and begin their flights.

    The three that remained had escaped. They were fast – faster than anything the fleet had left; they were on courses for inhabited worlds, all of which were too technologically backward to even begin to face such a threat.

    This was the most dire of circumstances. The darkest of hours. At this point, it was the worst of possibilities.

    But the enemy were not the only ones to make backup plans...

—☆G☆—

    And now the fun really begins! Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to anime-influenced high-octane science-fiction fun. Welcome to Biomechanical Angel GENESIS!
        —Andrew

    Welcome indeed. This project's been in the works, one way or another, for over a year now, starting the day I showed Andrew the first episode of the anime 'King of Braves GaoGaiGar'. That's likely the biggest single influence here; I'll explain more about the evolution of Genesis the character another time, but suffice it to say, this wouldn't be here if not for that show.
    Let me be perfectly clear: We want and need critique. Especially me, as I'm the less experienced writer of the pair, though I'm sure Drew will welcome it as well. Opinions! Things you liked! Things you didn't! We're all ears (well, eyes)!
        —Edward

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