For better or worse, Caprica was a force for which to be reckoned.

It was the long-awaited prequel to the Battlestar Galactica saga, and it had the monumental task of succeeding one of the most preeminent science-fiction series ever to grace the television screen.

To say that everything was stacked against it was an understatement. How does one follow a show as beloved and decorated as Battlestar Galactica and not fail to compare? It is to Capricas credit that it tried.

Caprica should never have been handicapped by the comparisons to Battlestar Galactica. But as it was holding itself out as the prequel series, the weight of a sci-fi legacy was hanging on its shoulders.

When Caprica debuted at the Paley Center in April 2009, Battlestar Galactica fans received it with open arms, hailing it as the next great chapter in science-fiction. Yet the eight month hiatus in between that special screening and when the series launched on television was a confused cooling off period.

Much confusion arose as to whether the two-hour pilot released on DVD was simply a standalone movie or a failed television series. So when Caprica finally did launch last January, the diehard fans tuned in and casual viewers did not know what to make of it.

From the beginning, Caprica was a multi-faceted series that strove to be a little bit of everything. It was to be easy-to-watch science-fiction to draw in a wider television audience. It was to have family drama, corporate intrigue, mob conspiracy, lurking terrorists, teenage angst, groundbreaking scientific development, with a bit of cyberspace titillation mixed in. The canvas of storylines was indeed widespread and all encompassing. It should have been a show with a little bit for everyone. The epic grandeur it aimed to achieve was breathtaking. One had to admire its sheer audacity.

It was also simply mind-blowingly awesome. The opening sequence in New Cap City where anything goes foreshadowed how much more risqué and rule-breaking Caprica was going to be. That followed up with the horrific suicide bombing aboard a public transport by a teenager branded Caprica as risk-taking. It was not afraid of sex, violence and political statements. It was seeking to capitalize on the boundaries broken by Battlestar Galactica and exploit them.

In this new world, everything was game.

But as the series slowly moved forward, viewers were confused. The pacing was snail-like and the tone microscopically introspective. This was not a battle of good versus evil like had been seen in Battlestar Galactica (humans vs. the Cylons). In Caprica, the lines between good and evil were blurred -- everyone seemed deeply flawed and duplicitous. The one clear-cut hero was a dead girl -- only her avatar (a computer-generated version of herself) remained. How does one root for a computer chip?

As Caprica progressed, it became harder and harder to grasp who the viewers should be identifying with and supporting. Did one support the egomaniacal, mad-scientist Daniel Graystone (Eric Stoltz), who stole the designs and programming of his teenage daughter? Amanda Graystone (Paula Malcomson), who may be slowly losing her mind, seeing visions of her dead brother and haunted by her failure as a mother?

Joseph Adama (Esai Morales), an attorney fronting for organized crime who bribes judges, orders hits on those who oppose their agenda and who was slowly falling apart over the simultaneous death of his wife and daughter? Sister Clarice Willow (Polly Walker), who recruited Zoe Graystone (Alessandra Torresani) into a terrorist organization and led her unsuspectingly into a mass suicide bombing and then who sought to steal Zoes avatar work?

Lacy Rand (Magda Apanowicz), the clueless best friend who joins a terrorist organization to help her dead friend by rescuing her avatar inside a Cylon body?

Every one seems so ambiguous and not hero-worthy at all. How was the audience supposed to connect to some of the most morally depraved characters?

In Battlestar Galactica, the lines were more clear-cut, and no matter what the humans did to the Cylons, they were human. They were automatically the good guys, at least initially. Caprica was simply too ambitious and too ambiguous.

The foundations of science-fiction were present (set in the future, advanced technology, avatars and Cylons), but the earth-bound storylines managed to smother much of the science-fiction aspect. It did not help matters when an overtly cloying religious element was introduced and continued to grow until it nearly eclipsed the entire show.

Caprica was no longer a show about the origins of the Cylons. It was a show about religious zealotry and how it turned scientific advancement into a tool for their terrorist activities and justification for their vision of utopia. It was this very aggravating aspect that led this author to write: Is Religion Killing Off Good TV Shows?

Despite the concerns with the over-emphasis of religious dogma and precious storytelling time on tangential themes, Caprica remained at its core a fascinating look at everything a science-fiction drama should offer.

With its "final five" episodes still yet to air, and perhaps only to be seen on the upcoming DVD release, "Caprica" has left fans hanging. Will Lacy escape the clutches of the STO and have a chance at being a normal teenager again? Will Sister Clarice's evil plan to inflict monotheism launch the Cylon species? Or will it be Daniel Graystone who puts the final piece in place that melds the Cylon body with Zoe's avatar research and creates an artificial intelligence race obsessed with the annihilation of its creators?

Will Amanda stop Clarice from killing more innocent people and recruiting children to be the terrorist weapons of her religious war?

With perhaps all these questions still unanswered after the "final five" episodes are revealed, will the next "Battlestar Galactica" prequel "Blood & Chrome" answer these pivotal questions?

What "Caprica" will be remembered for will be both its spectacular ambition, and its inability to live up to the heightened expectations of the fans.

Hopefully it also will be remembered for the amazing things it gave us. For one, it provided the unique perspective on what it feels like to be the first person to wake up and find themselves stuck in a Cylon body -- to then realize that you are not real, but a copy -- an avatar of someone who has since died.

It asked us to imagine what is real then? To the avatar, it feels real. It feels pain. It experiences love, loss, desire and fear. "Caprica" challenged us to consider whether artificial life and artificial intelligence could be real. If it is, then does an avatar have rights? Does it deserve to live free of domination and control? Did Zoe, the avatar, have the right to be free and to live as she chose?

It was confusing and intriguing to think about. For those of us who are fans of "Battlestar Galactica" recall that, ultimately, Cylons were granted autonomy and the right to live free -- to be granted equal rights with humans. "Caprica" made us think what it means to be human and if alternate forms of life deserved to be recognized.

"Caprica" also introduced a virtual world that we wish we had more time to explore. New Cap City was perhaps not meant to be the focal point of the series, but each time we were allowed to peek behind the curtain and visit, we were intrigued. We wanted to see what Tamara Adama (Genevieve Buechner) was going through as she tried to figure out her place and purpose in this new world, and how Zoe figured into it as well. Its "Matrix"-like feel drew us in and we were curious to see if there was a master plan for those who resurrect in New Cap City.

As the "Caprica" and "Battlestar Galactica" universe expands, we hope that everything that drew us in and hooked us will be further explored. "Caprica" was a decadent delight that lost its way in mob stories and religious wars. Let us remember that it also was a marvelous world where A.I. rose from the dead and aspired to be autonomous -- where Cylons were created with good intentions and yet fell prey to the evil ambition of men.

R.I.P "Caprica" -- you will be missed. May your legacy live on . . .