A mysterious galactic storm causes many in the armada headed for the fabled Thirteenth Colony to dream dreams of Earth, of its oceans and continents. And no one, not even the doctors of the fabled Galactica, know the reason why.
With his usual deft hand at cosmic story spinning,
Licensed properties can sometimes be stilted or without emotion, but this book reads like a script by the fabled Glen Larson for the series itself. The pacing is very Rod Serling-like, and the ever-present threat of Cylons and other enemies is never lost by our crew.
The art of Dietrich O. Smith, like that of Steve Ditko in a manner, loses something when human beings are the concentrated subject. But in the rendering of the armada, the Galactica, Planet Earth and space itself, Smith’s art is awe-inspiring and, like Gene Colan or again Ditko in mystic realms, has an eerie beauty all its own. The peeps just need some adjusting, Dietrich.
I am loving this continuation of the franchise and, while not as successfully done as
