DISCLAIMER: Star Trek and all related characters are the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc and CBS-Paramount Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The original characters and events are the sole property of the author and may not be used without permission.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next episode in the series of Star Trek stories told my way.

STAR TREK:

THE CAVALIER INCIDENT

By Darrin Colbourne

Its official name was the Close Support Weapon System, but it was known to the Fleet's plane crews as "See-Saws", a nickname derived from the acronym CSWS. It was a marriage of two technologies, the old-style Vulcan cannon and modern high-energy physics. Three large-caliber particle cannons were clustered together with a large power pack and an electro-optical targeting system in a black, rectangular housing. With the cannons rigged to fire in sequence, See-Saws was capable of firing nearly a thousand shots per minute. When mounted on either side of a Cavalier Tactical Support Craft, it allowed the pilot to provide devastating close air support for Lander Forces conducting operations on the surfaces of planets, or to tear apart enemy smallcraft, even the shielded ones.

Isabel Montoya had learned about the See-Saws - and other weapons carried by the Cavalier - from the technical manual lent to her by Brigid Silas. It was an education she felt she needed, since the tactical spacecraft would play a central role in her survey of the world the USS Enterprise was currently orbiting. Still, she hadn't actually seen the weapon until she discovered one mounted on each weapon pylon of Silas's craft, and she found herself staring at this one in awe, fascinated by how much killing power had been crammed into such a relatively compact device.

"Isabel." Silas said. Montoya turned to look. The tactical pilot was standing a few feet away, inspecting the starboard Warp engine. "The point of a walkaround is to walk all the way around the ship to look for problems. There's nothing wrong with that See-Saws."

Montoya looked back at the weapon. "I guess you're right. I'm probably just a little uneasy knowing they're there." She forced herself to turn away and catch up with Silas.

"Having second thoughts?" Silas asked as they walked down the length of the Warp engine together.

"No." Montoya said. "Just uneasy, like I said. Besides, I don't suppose you'd take the guns off if I asked."

"Can't. No tactical craft leaves the mothership unarmed. It's a rule."

"Why doesn't the same rule apply to the transports?"

Silas smiled as she started to inspect the tail boom. "Because transport pilots have armed tactical pilots to protect them." This elicited a few chuckles from Silas's plane crew, who were observing as she did her walkaround. Montoya just shook her head and watched quietly as Silas completed her inspection, checking the countermeasures launch tubes, tail running lights and the starboard stabilator. "Looks good, Chief."

"Thank you, Sir." The Plane Captain said. "All right, guys. Let's get this ship onto the Flight Deck."

Silas and Montoya stepped away as a small tractor towed the Cavalier through to the Flight Deck. The officers followed a second later, checking their flight suits as they went. Montoya had to admit that the suit was actually more comfortable to wear than it looked. She'd expected the life-support equipment built into it to make it awkward, but it was surprisingly light and flexible.

The Cavalier was positioned for launch in a few minutes. The plane crew helped Silas and Montoya into the cockpit and handed them their helmets. Montoya was in the back seat, where the Weapons Systems Officer normally sat, and she hesitated for a second as she stared at the controls. There was a world of difference between seeing them in diagrams on a page and sitting in the middle of them.

It was as if Silas had read her mind. "Remember what we talked about." She said. "I have control of the craft, we won't need any of the sensors up and running and the guns are essentially point and shoot, so all you have to do is sit back there and enjoy the show…"

"…and don't touch anything." Montoya finished the thought.

Silas smiled. "Smart Girl." She said, then they both put their helmets on. They did radio checks when the canopy was closed and the interior was pressurized, then the plane crew trotted back to the Hangar Deck with a thumbs-up from Silas. She turned on primary power as the Flight Deck was sealed and depressurized, then radioed the ship. "Prize, Rider One, we are go for launch."

"Roger that, Rider One." Both women heard. "Opening access doors, and you may sortie your ship."

Montoya thought that Silas would wait for the doors to open fully before she lifted off, so she was surprised when the Cavalier rose off the deck a second later and slid sideways until it was over the access to space. Silas descended just as suddenly, just barely clearing the inner doors as they slid into their recesses and passing the outer doors while they were still folding open. The rapid drop drew Montoya's gaze upward, giving her a spectacular view of Enterprise's underside as it receded. When she could see the whole ship she turned her attention forward. Any lingering doubts she might have had disappeared in that moment.

The dayside of Shiva Three hung right in the center of her field of view. Riding high in the back seat let her see the entire globe and made her feel as if she were floating through space on her own. It was a much better view than she could ever have gotten from the cockpit of a transport, and the heavy concentration of nitrogen and methane in Shiva Three's atmosphere and its wildly overgrown land masses meant that a smallcraft was the best way to get a close first look. Silas had convinced Montoya that the Cavalier was the better choice for the job, and she'd been right.

Montoya was so engrossed in the view she was startled when she noticed the planet was expanding in her vision. "Prize, Rider One is proceeding to station." Silas said.

"Roger that, Rider One." The Communications Officer said.

Captain Christopher Pike had the watch in the Control Room. He sat comfortably in the center seat and gazed idly at the main viewer as it showed Rider One streaking toward the planet. He was only slightly ashamed to be glad his Science Officer was conducting this survey from inside a fast, well-armed spacecraft. All the better to fight or run, whichever became necessary, and with Silas at the controls Montoya was in no position to balk either way. He made a mental note to work on making the entire mission go like this.

"Captain, New Contact, bearing 260 by 32, estimate range 130,000 kilometers." The Sensor Officer said.

Pike sighed. So much for an uneventful survey. "Nature of contact?"

"Thermal transient. Too brief for heading and speed estimates."

"Any other contacts?"

"No, Sir. I read only the bodies of the system. The tactical probe hasn't seen anything on the dark side."

"Okay, what do you think it was?"

"Sir, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was a split-second sub-light engine burn."

Pike looked at the data on the Sensor repeater screen, then said: "Goren, are you sure there's no spacefaring civilization in this system?"

He was addressing Lieutenant Ben Goren, who was manning the Science Station. "Positive." He said. "The only planet capable of bearing life is Shiva Three, and the place is just a giant swamp. The most intelligent life down there is still living in the trees or in the oceans."

"So we've got a possible spaceship where there aren't supposed to be any spaceships but ours…unless there's some natural phenomenon nearby that might have touched off our sensors…"

"Nothing that you'd actually mistake for a sub-light burn, Sir."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that." Pike rubbed his chin and muttered: "Montoya is gonna kill me." Then said clearly: "Sensors, increase sensitivity on the passive systems. Bring the Main Sensor to full power and set to 'Standby', and get the probe on the far side of the area of contact. Helm, turn us bow-on to the area of contact. Communicator, recall Rider One. Have her get above the contact and stand by for bi-static scan and visual identification."

"Rider One, Prize," Silas and Montoya heard, "stand down from survey mission and take station above possible low-observable contact bearing 260 by 32 our position. Stand by to VID track via bistatic scan."

"Roger, copy that, Prize." Silas said. "Rider One is proceeding to new station."

Montoya lowered her head and groaned as Silas increased speed to swing around the planet. "So near and yet so far."

Silas chuckled. "Isabel, the planet's not going anywhere. We'll probably be right back. Enterprise is just worried there's a cloaked ship off to her port and wants to do a thorough check."

"Why not send the tactical probe?"

"They are. The probe's going to flank the target. We're going to get above it. You know how a bistatic scan works?"

"The whole point of cloaking technology is to deflect or jam the return energy of an active scan so that the receivers on the ship doing the scanning think there's nothing there, but the deflected energy has to go somewhere, so if you set one or more receivers in areas you think the energy might go, you can still detect the ship."

"That's right, and we've been elected to receive. Now, remember when I said don't touch anything?"

"Yeah?"

"Now I need you to touch something. Under your right arm there are two rows of white contacts. There's one in the top row marked 'ALPS', and one in the bottom row marked 'CTP'. See 'em?"

"I see them."

"Press ALPS first, then CTP."

Montoya did as instructed, switching on the Cavalier's passive sensors and giving control of them to Silas. They continued on in silence until Silas had the ship stationed over the target area. "Prize, Rider One is in position."

"Roger." Came the reply. Then there was silence for a few seconds, then a soft beeping alerted Montoya to an image forming on the multi-function display in front of her. The Cavalier's combat data systems were forming a target image based on the energies picked up on the passive systems and comparing it to known images in its database. When the beeping changed to a steady tone, it was an indication that a match had been found.

Montoya gawked at the attached picture and list of specifications. "That can't be." She said.

"Oh, but it is." Silas said. She was looking at the same picture. "Rider One to Prize, ID track as Kahless-class Battle Cruiser, running cloaked and drifting. Awaiting tasking, over."

As soon as she was done talking, the space ahead of her erupted in a burst of light. It started out a rainbow, with the colors shifting from red through violet before settling down into a more definitive shape. When it was fully visible, Silas found that she was hovering over the ship's slender access shaft, halfway between the mace-like Command Section and the glider-like Support Section.

It was the closest she'd been to a Klingon warship in years…and she'd never had a cleaner shot.