No messing around here. Nine pages in, the Admiral is dead. Totalitarian
fascists are even bigger dicks than walking chrome toasters. Twenty-nine pages later, the
long flight of the fleet has begun. If this is an obvious rewriting of the new Galactica
(it is; Campbell’s claim 2006 and 2003 are “about the same time” is ridiculous),
there’s no interest in redoing the miniseries, part one. Just no time. Fight, brood,
fight, brood. Done. Readable in a weekend; a holiday book leaving you plenty of
holiday when you've finished. Not smart (though perhaps pleasingly progressive),
but fun.
And fast.
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