Author's Note:

This story is a rehash of another story I had worked on previously, also titled Battlestar Arcadia. It will utilize certain characters and elements I had introduced in those few initial chapters I wrote. Ship classes and other information found within come from a multitude of sources, with the main sources being, of course, the re-imagined series from 2003 and the 2017 video game Battlestar Galactica Deadlock. Some elements I introduce could be completely made up by myself, others could be fan inspired, etc. Please keep in mind that ship models from Deadlock do not properly show ship board armaments (i.e. showing the Jupiter-class as having only fifteen artillery emplacements), leaving me to do some guesswork with certain ship classes.

That being said, please enjoy the first chapter (hopefully of many) and feel free to leave any constructive criticisms you may have in the review section. Thanks for reading!

Scorpion Fleet Shipyards
Five Weeks Before the Attack

Crew Count - 3,415

Commander Rodrick Gideon stood from one of the several jump seats possessed by the Colonial Raptor he was currently a passenger in, slowly stepping forward to get a better view from the front windscreen of the cramped transport. The two man crew of the Raptor, one electronics countermeasure officer and one pilot, were both situated in the front two seats, with the ECO having little to do during a fairly simple passenger run.

What Gideon was interested in, however, was the view of his first command as they approached one of several docked battlestars found at Scorpion Fleet Shipyards. "Push her nose down a little, Lieutenant," the recently promoted Commander ordered softly, with the ship's pilot quickly complying.

As the nose of the Raptor pivoted downwards, the hull of his battlestar came into view. The battlestar Arcadia, one of twenty three Minerva-class battlestars still in service with the Colonial Fleet after the end of the Cylon Revolt, was bristling with activity as work crews toiled away across the outer hull installing new sections of armor plating and assisted interior laborers with electronics and various other tasks.

Arcadia had been put into spacedock nearly five months ago for an overhaul and partial refit, having been one of the final Minerva-class battlestars to undergo this particular overhaul. The refit was meant to replace many Cylon Revolt era subsystems, weapons emplacements, and other various parts aboard ship to modernize the light battlestar.

The Minerva-class had been one of the first battlestar classes constructed after the progenitor Artemis-class command battlestar and Jupiter-class battlestar, though the third ship class of the battlestar type did not retain the extensive armor plating the previous two classes had. Instead, the Minervas focused on offensive capabilities over defensive capabilities, being the very definition of a glass cannon.

In her Cylon Revolt era configuration, Arcadia and the fellow ships of her class possessed eighteen heavy dual barreled turrets, with eight turrets mounted dorsally, two turrets mounted ventrally at the tip of the alligator head shaped front of the battlestar, and four mounted on the ventral of each flight pod for a total of eight turrets spread across her starboard and port side flight pods.

Missile launchers were mounted all along her sides in the original configuration, with the class sacrificing armor plating and bulk for firepower, a doctrine which had carried over and partially inspired the design of the Mercury-class battlestars. Hundreds of small caliber close-in weapons systems were mounted along her hull as well for point defense protection.

In her new configuration, however, the remaining Minerva-class battlestars in the Colonial Fleet had the vast majority of their conventional missile launchers stripped and replaced with bulkier armor plating, resulting in increased endurance in battle. With the majority of the Jupiter-class battlestars beginning to be phased out of service, including the sole remaining original block one Jupiter-class, Galactica, the Admiralty of the Colonial Fleet wanted a ship that could fill the void between the Valkyrie-class light battlestars and the Mercury-class battlestars.

The remaining Minerva-class battlestars were to be the ones to fill that void until a new ship class could be approved by either President Adar's administration or the following administration. Arcadia and her sister ships were to be a more general purpose warship, rather than an assault warship like the Mercury's or a light warship like the Valkyrie's.

Despite the vast majority of her conventional missile launchers being stripped away, Arcadia still possessed a total of ten launchers mounted in pairings of five on both the starboard and port sides. There were also four missile tubes on the dorsal midsection of the battlestar for the launching of nuclear missiles, if the need was to arise.

All in all, Commander Gideon was satisfied to be taking command of Arcadia, a ship he had once served aboard as a Viper pilot, as she entered this new stage of her service life.

Gideon was taking command of Arcadia after the battlestar's previous commanding officer, one Commander Emily Stone, had tragically passed away from sudden cardiac arrest five months prior to Gideon's arrival. The Minerva-class had just entered drydock for her refit and, as most of the crew prepared for reassignments or shore leave, Stone died in her personal quarters, found by her executive officer a half an hour later after not appearing for her shift in the combat information center.

In her stead, the Admiralty ordered forty one year old Colonel Maria Dawes, the XO of Arcadia, to oversee the ship's overhaul while they searched for replacement commanding officer. Gideon had been told by Rear Admiral Richard Vernier, the commander of Battlestar Group Fifty Five, which Arcadia was apart of, that Dawes had been passed up for the role as CO due to the fact that she had only been promoted to full Colonel six months prior to the death of Commander Stone. As such, Dawes was considered too inexperienced for the job.

Gideon, on the other hand, had spent seven years as a Colonel, serving as executive officer aboard the Battlestars Yashuman, Erasmus, and Solaria over the course of those seven years. Promoting him to Commander was logical to the Admiralty, due to his lengthy experience in a high level command position and his familiarity with the ship's class, with the Erasmus being a Minerva-class battlestar that had already gone through the retrofits Arcadia herself was undergoing.

As such, Commander Gideon would be the individual charged with taking the proverbial reigns of the last Minerva-class refit in the Fleet as she broke out of drydock and returned to active service, a duty he was proud and honored to perform.

"Take us in, gentlemen," Gideon finally commanded after surveying the exterior of his first command for several minutes.

"Aye, sir," the Raptor's pilot responded dutifully, before he keyed his wireless over to Arcadia's flight control channel. "Arcadia-control, this is Raptor 4479, requesting permission to land, port-side landing bay," the Lieutenant spoke into his helmet's wireless, the professionalism projected through his voice portraying his apparent skill to the Commander.

Gideon returned to his jump seat, strapping himself in right as the battlestar's landing signal officer responded to the pilot's transmission. "Raptor 4479, Arcadia-control, you are cleared for approach. Speed 155, port-side bay, hands-on-approach, checkers green, please call the ball," the LSO responded with equal professionalism.

The hands-on-approach interested Gideon, though he quickly surmised that the auto-landing system was more than likely offline during the refit for one reason or another. "I have the ball," the Lieutenant responded into his mic, indicating that he had acquired sight of the crossed navigational lights at the lip of the flight pod's open entrance.

Landing went smoothly, as the Commander had expected, and, after waiting for the internal elevator to lower the Raptor into the actual port-side hangar deck, he unclasped the jump seat's restraints and retrieved his two duffel bags. One of the orange-clad knuckledraggers of the deck crew taxied the ship into its assigned berthing using an aircraft hand tug, giving the pilot and ECO a thumbs up after the Raptor was finally stopped.

"Welcome aboard, Commander," the Lieutenant stated simply, unsealing his helmet from his pressurized flight suit.

Offering a smile and a small nod in response, Gideon waited for the duo to pop the hatch, exiting the craft after they did so. He knew from experience that the two would be required to go through a post-flight check, so Gideon didn't exactly feel obligated to wait for them to finish before he left.

As he exited the Raptor, he was greeted by a small welcoming committee composed of what he figured were department heads and officers of importance. Most were clad in their dark blue duty tunics, with a few clad in khaki fatigues indicating they were either Fleet warrant officers or were non-commissioned officers in the Colonial Marine Corps.

"Commander Gideon, on behalf of the crew of Arcadia, welcome aboard," the center figure of the gathered personnel, a woman clad in duty blues with her rank insignia indicating she was a Colonel, spoke curtly to Gideon. Considering there was only one Colonel aboard ship, Gideon felt safe assuming that she was his executive officer, Colonel Maria Dawes.

Salutes were offered, with Gideon returning them dutifully, before the Commander suggested that they move their group into the considerably quieter and more private wardroom. To the group's partial surprise, Gideon led the way, remembering the ship's layout very well. As they walked through the corridors of the thirteen hundred meter long warship, introductions began. The names of a few of the more obscure department heads were quickly shadowed by the more meaningful positions.

The commander of the air group, Major Mackenzie 'Donor' Warfield, was the first he shared a few actual words with as they walked. "Donor's a bit of an odd call sign, Major. I'm sure there's an interesting story behind that," he said after she introduced herself, with the Major offering an embarrassed chuckle in response.

"It was given to me by an instructor back at the academy. We were going through our survival course, specifically the water ditching section, and I had a little bit of an incident in the pool. I drowned before anyone spotted me struggling and by the time I was dragged out of the water, I was technically dead. The instructor, I can't really remember his name, performed CPR, successfully obviously. After I came to, the first thing I did was upchuck all over the poor guy," Gideon and those in the group who hadn't heard the story before all shared a short laugh, before she continued. "He said that he was going to stamp 'do not resuscitate' on my forehead for future reference. Eventually, that was shortened to Donor and that's pretty much it, sir," Warfield explained.

"Could be worse, Major. My first name is Gideon and everyone in the academy just called me Giddy, so I figured it was practically my call sign at that point. After finishing flight quals, I shipped out to the Fleet, to this ship actually, and introduced myself to the CAG as such. He was Aerilon-born and had that deep brassy accent you'd usually expect and he just bent over and let out this guttural, raspy laugh the minute the word left my mouth. I didn't get it until he finally regained his breath and said 'Giddy up buttercup', and from then on my call sign was 'Buttercup'," Gideon spoke, with Warfield letting out a surprised snort in response.

After a moment, she regained composure, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, sir, but that's fantastic," she said sheepishly.

"No, don't be sorry. It's a great story. I was Major Buttercup for five years, and I certainly intend to tell that to my grandkids once I have a few. Now, onto official stuff. Give me a quick rundown of our air wing," he commanded, with Warfield quickly slipping back into a state of professionalism as she responded to his order.

"We have our peacetime compliment of Mark Sevens aboard currently, sixty planes in total split into three separate squadrons. Fighter squadron designations are 37, 43, and 68. The squadron nicknames are Hexers for the 37th, Cap-Cats for the 43rd, and Terriers for the 68th. We also have one Raptor squadron of twenty ships aboard, the 21st squadron, nicknamed Sweepers. Total number of pilots aboard ship is one hundred and twenty, with twenty of those being qualified as ECOs," the Major explained dutifully.

What really surprised Gideon was that those were the same exact squadrons as those he had served in and alongside during his original tenure aboard the Arcadia nearly twenty three years ago as a rookie Viper pilot. The fact that they hadn't been rotated to a new command was interesting. "Very well, Major," he said, doing his best to commit the pilot and ECO count to memory.

Shortly after he received the rundown of Arcadia's air wing, the group of department heads and various other important personnel arrived at the wardroom, with each of the members taking their seats around the u-shaped table situated within the room. "XO, I want to know where we're at with the refit," Gideon began once he was situated in his seat, having left his duffel bags by the entrance to the room.

Dawes rose from her seat to respond, as was tradition when one was addressed by the commanding officer in a warship's wardroom. "Refit is nearing completion, with finishing touches being applied as we speak, Commander. The chief of the overhaul sent an update this very morning saying that the project should be complete within the next three weeks, leaving us precisely where we need to be to reach projected completion date," the Colonel replied, taking her seat once more after she finished speaking.

"Thank you, Colonel. As much as I would love to have a little round table discussion about our operational status, I would very much like to get situated and move onto the necessary preparations for our upcoming launch. Rear Admiral Vernier indicated to me that we are to perform a shakedown cruise after we break moorings. We'll be doing a few routine system checks, testing our FTL, doing some weapon tests at the Fleet range at the Zodia asteroid belt here on the outskirts of the Helios Gamma system, et cetera. It's expected to take two months to fully test our systems, with an additional month allocated to any minor troubleshooting or maintenance we may need to perform," he spoke, sharing the first part of Arcadia's orders from the Rear Admiral in charge of their Battlestar Group.

"And after those tests, sir?" Warfield questioned before anyone else could speak.

"After those tests, we begin Arcadia's first deployment since before the refit began. Extremists from Tauron are getting brave once again, testing their limits against Colonial law. A fringe group believed to have ties with the Ha'la'tha managed to hijack a freighter last month, though it was rapidly retaken by a Fleet Anti-terrorism Security detachment before it could be put to use. With aggression like that being openly implemented in Colonial space, the Admiralty has decided that a visible presence is necessary in the space lanes of Helios Alpha. Our ship has been selected to do just that, with Arcadia acting as both a quick reaction force and a deterrent for any situations that may arise in-system. That being said, a one week leave will be offered to all non-essential personnel once our initial shakedown cruise, with essential personnel receiving two day passes," Gideon explained to those gathered in the wardroom.

"Should we pass this information onto the crew, sir?" one of the department heads, Captain Sunniva Mills of engineering, if he remembered correctly, questioned in her gravelly Aerilon accent.

The Commander shook his head. "Not yet, Captain. We'll pass on word about the week leave and two day passes, but don't expound any actual details of our upcoming tests or patrol. Orders will be passed on once we're underway. The most they should know is that they are to prepare themselves for, at minimum, a six month long voyage," Gideon answered, turning to address any other questions.

"Sir, what will be our rules of engagement regarding any extremist groups we may encounter?" Arcadia's head gunnery officer, Captain Byron Silva, asked next.

"We will not fire unless fired upon. Orders are to seize the ship, incarcerate the crew, and then remain on station until a Fleet response force arrives to impound the ship and retrieve any prisoners we have aboard," the Commander explained in response, with Silva nodding his head in response.

Another of the gathered department heads rose from his seat, wearing the duty uniform of a Colonial Marine Corps officer. "Commander, will our current MarDet be supplemented by a FAST platoon before leaving, or are we to conduct any operations involving recapture of vessels with the current Marines aboard?" the Marine Captain whose name escaped Gideon questioned.

"How many men and women in the MarDet now?"

"I have one hundred and thirty five Marines under my command, sir. We're at company strength, but our lack of trained personnel for boarding operations is somewhat troubling," the Captain, who sported the fairly generic high-and-tight haircut found throughout the CMC, reported.

"I'll pass your concerns upwards, Captain, but prepare yourself to make do with the MarDet in its current configuration if we are tasked with the recapture of a civilian vessel. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be happy to address any other questions after I've familiarized myself with the nearest head," Gideon joked, prompting a shared laugh from the various department heads. "Please report any further concerns or questions in writing to my quarters and trust me when I say that I plan on making this command transition as smooth as possible. Dismissed," he stated, rising from his chair.

All of those currently in the wardroom rose to their feet and snapped to attention, with most pivoting in perfect form and marching straight out of the wardroom to return to their duties. Colonel Dawes remained, however, seemingly wanting to address the Commander in private.

"Sir, if I may speak freely?" she requested, with Gideon nodding his head in approval. "Commander Stone was a good woman, sir, but she pushed the crew a bit hard at times. I understand that the CO isn't supposed to be friends with their crew, but I highly recommend giving the crew the carrot, so to speak, as often as possible, at least until your command style is cemented in their minds. The humor you offered during that little meet-and-greet was more than Commander Stone offered during her entire command tenure and I'd say it would probably go quite a ways in terms of cementing your authority without any major issues if it continued,"she offered, supplying Gideon with some insight as to how Stone had run her ship.

"Thank you for the advice, Colonel. I'll take that into serious consideration. That being said," Gideon paused and extended his hand towards her, with the Colonel returning the gesture. "Commander Rodrick Gideon. When we're by ourselves, feel free to call me Rick," he introduced himself with a soft smile, which the auburn haired Dawes returned.

"My pleasure, sir. Colonel Maria Dawes, Mitzi when I'm not in CIC," she spoke, clasping her hands behind her back. "The CO's quarters has already been emptied of Commander Stone's belongings. The personal items you had shipped aboard last week are inside," the Colonel added. "If you'll excuse me, Rick, I'll be in the CIC for the next six hours," Dawes explained.

"So be it. Mid-watch begins after your shift, correct?" he questioned, with Dawes nodding in response. "Very well, I plan on introducing myself to the officer of the mid-watch before turning in for the night. If you want to talk further, you're welcome to stop by after your watch," Gideon spoke.

With that, both he and Dawes exited the wardroom, with Gideon retrieving his duffel bags before he left. A nearby Marine was quick to offer his assistance to the Commander, with Gideon politely declining the offer. The day he was too conceited to carry his own luggage was the day he'd retire from the service.

Despite only having visited the CO's quarters a handful of times during his previous tenure aboard Arcadia, Gideon was familiar enough with the layout of the ship to find his way to the room. It took him a few minutes to traverse the corridors of the four fifths of a mile long battlestar, but he soon arrived at the hatchway that led into the CO's quarters, with a single guard from the on board MarDet posted at the entrance.

Said Marine quickly moved to open the hatch for the Commander, pulling the hatch outwards and holding it open for Gideon. Passing by the Marine with a grateful nod, Gideon found a sparsely furnished room awaiting him, with little more than a desk and chair, a bed, and a small couch awaiting him within. The three boxes of personal belongings he had sent before his arrival were stacked neatly in the center of the room, along with a fairly flat item that was wrapped carefully in brown wrapping paper.

Dropping his two duffel bags atop the fairly spartan bed, the Commander moved to begin unpacking his belongings, beginning with the paper-wrapped item. Gideon knew that the item contained within was a painting, specifically a painting he had commissioned by an artist from Leonis, of his home planet of Pallas as viewed from space.

Pallas was a small desolate planet that was believed to have once been habitable and, while efforts to Kobolform the world failed multiple times, several civilian outposts had been setup around the planet, either for research or mining purposes. Gideon was born at one such civilian outpost, a series of connected and enclosed habitats that were made to house the workers of Telcore, a Virgon-based mining corporation that operated several large scale facilities on Pallas.

Despite his homeworld being considered lifeless and of little value by most citizens of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Gideon had a special relationship with the dust covered planet. As such, the painting of the red world, which was so colored due to the abundance of rust particles on the surface, had been one of his most cherished possessions since having it commissioned.

Normally the painting stayed in his modest condo in the city of Blaustad on Virgon, but due to the time dedication demanded by the position of commanding officer of a large warship, Gideon had chosen to include the framed canvas as part of the personal belongs he had brought aboard ship.

Taking several moments to survey the dimly lit stateroom, the Commander found a suitable spot to hang the frame, nestled directly behind the room's large wooden desk and a pair of bookshelves, one of which housed the various operations manuals that could be utilized as reference material for the commanding officer in various scenarios that may occur on an active-duty battlestar.

The walls of the stateroom were of a pegboard design, allowing Gideon to hang various items from secure supports without the need to drill holes into the walls for mountings.

After a few minutes of unpacking and decorating, the Commander moved to the storage room that the stateroom possessed, placing the now empty duo of duffel bags into the cramped closet. Almost immediately after stowing his luggage, he moved to his queen sized bedding, collapsing onto the stiff box spring mattress. Silently cursing the bean counters who had authorized the purchase of such a low quality bed, Gideon rolled over onto his back and allowed himself to rest for the first time since awakening nearly twelve hours ago.

He had a terrible feeling that this command was going to be a dreadfully boring affair, with an endless number of near-meaningless patrols and constant shift rotations in the CIC between him and a dreaded desk job at Fleet Headquarters or another ground installation that would lead to his eventual retirement from the Colonial Fleet altogether.

And with that single thought process, Gideon's stress reared its head once more.