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“This old relic-”

“Enough!” Worf screamed over both of them. “We are under orders to install this cloaking device before we are in scanning distance of Romulan space. That will be in thirty hours. If the cloak is not installed, our mission cannot proceed-and that is not acceptable.”

Scott muttered, “I’m no bloody relic.”

“I’m not 'daft,’ either, Captain. What I am is the person who designed this ship. I know it better than you.”

“And I know Starfleet engines better than anyone alive, lad, and unlike you, I’ve put a cloaking device into one, and I’m tellin’ you-”

“That was a hundred years ago!”

“The principle’s the same!”

“Mev yap!” Worf repeated the interjection he’d used previously, but this time in Klingon, hoping it might be more effective. “I am not interested in puerile name calling. I am interested in an installed cloak. You will work together, you will install the cloak, and you will cease this idiocy!”

Without waiting for either to respond, Worf turned on his heel and left engineering. To make matters worse, while Scott outranked Sisko, as first officer, Sisko had a higher position in the ship’s hierarchy. Still, Worf imagined that Scott would have difficulty taking orders from a lower-ranked officer who wasn’t yet born when Scott first made captain.

However, Worf’s word was final. He hoped that was enough.

Kira was waiting for him on the other side of the door, and she gave voice to his thoughts. “You really think that was the best approach?”

“I do not know,” Worf said, “but if it is a successful approach, then I do not much care if it was best.” He looked behind him. “They bicker like children.”

Kira shrugged. “Engineers. They’re all the same. We had one in the resistance, name of Biroj. You couldn’t tell her anything, either.”

Thinking of La Forge and O’Brien, Worf said, “My experience has been that engineers are reasonable.” Shaking his head, he proceeded down the corridor. “Perhaps I should have insisted that Lieutenant O’Brien be assigned to this ship.”

“Sisko knows this ship, though,” Kira said as they walked together. Worf noted with admiration that, despite her lesser height, the Bajoran was able to keep up with the Klingon’s greater strides. “And from what that older one-Scotty?-says, he’s been doing this awhile.”

“Captain Scott was born in the twenty-third century. He was trapped in-in a form of stasis for seventy-five years, and then rescued by the EnterpriseD four years ago. Commander Sisko’s concerns about his suitability are, at the very least, understandable. But he was assigned to this mission, and that should be all that matters.”

“Real life doesn’t always work like that,” Kira said.

“No,” Worf growled. “You wished to see me?”

She nodded. “I’ve gone over Elim’s notes, and compared them with the latest reports from Starfleet Intelligence that you let me see.”

Worf noted an undertone of annoyance. In truth, Worf hadn’t wanted to show a Bajoran civilian any SI reports, but Picard had argued that she needed to in order to perform the mission. As long as the reports pertained only to the mission, and any outside references were omitted, Kira could have limited access.

But Kira had bridled under even those restrictions, not understanding why she couldn’t see the uncensored reports. “You do not need to know,” Worf had said.

“I think the two most likely candidates on his list are Colonels Koval and Lovok. They’re both with the Tal Shiar. Admiral Braeg’s been too much on the front lines, and I can’t see one of the shapechangers taking that big a risk.”

Worf had seen the list provided by Kira’s ex-Obsidian Order friend Elim Garak, and so asked about the fourth person on it: “What of Senator Vreenak?”

Kira shook her head. “In theory, he’s not a bad candidate, but then I came across this.” She called up one of the intelligence reports. “According to the Romulan news service, Colonel Lovok died last week from a sudden accident.”

Seeing where she was going, Worf said, “High-ranking Tal Shiar operatives do not die of accidents.”

“No. And Lovok was in charge of intelligence for