So, how many of you believe in poltergeists? Well, I have one that follows me around and destroys all the electronics that I own. Its most recent victim was my laptop. Fine one night, and the next day it was doing a FABULOUS imitation of a fire alarm. The next three chapters of this story were in fact written and just awaiting a more thorough proof-read than I usually give my chapters. Needless to say, they've poofed. So, I ask for yet more patience with this already patience taxing story and implore you to stick with me.

This chapter: Back to Scotty and Numair, who have a little bonding session over magical sciencey engineering stuffs.

POV: Numair

Numair sat back, watching with a growing feeling of respect for the man as Scotty poured over a thick text of magical Laws. It covered the basic limitations of the Gift, the ways it can manifest itself in a person, and the interaction of the Gift with the rarer power of The Sight. It also had chapters written by Numair himself in it describing Wild Magic. Periodically the man would utter small phrases of delight and understanding, ranging from 'aha's' to the slightly confusing 'by the Enterprise's nacelles'. It was gratifying that his work was being received so enthusiastically, Numair thought to himself.

It was also a testament to the boisterous Engineer's nature that he was so immediately accepting of this world. It was quite obvious to Numair that the Realm Montgomery Scott and his crewmates came from was vastly different than this one. It was in the way this man jerked in surprise to small things like the clang of steel swords echoing up from the courtyard, or the small spells Numair cast without a thought. Even then, Scotty was more eager to learn than afraid. He swallowed Numair's explanations an eagerly looked for more. When Numair produced a tiny Simulacra, he was entirely sure that Scotty's eyes would burst from his head.

"Nay, I cannae believe it. How? It isn't a hologram," exclaimed the excitable Scott, poking the miniature Numair with curiously still fingers compared to how his body was vibrating with energy.

"Hologram?" Numair chuckled and watched as his tiny counterpart voiced displeasure with being picked up and manhandled.

"It's a, a, image that looks three dimensional. But its nay solid like this," Scotty looked up at Numair, eyes bright and gleaming, "This is as good as a real body, ain't it?"

"Yes. Though for all intents and purposes, it isn't actually there. It's a complex mix of my own Gift and magics that deal with sight, sound… the senses. It is a doll, a puppet. A shadow made solid,"

"It's fantastic. Tha's wha' it is," Scotty gripped Numair's shoulder, grinning widely.

An odd bubble of emotion filled Numair's chest as Scotty's grip tightened. He was unused to such an eager response to his breadth of arcane knowledge. His wife, his friends, his King even, usually just flapped a hand at him and carried on when he launched into an explanation. This was the first time since leaving the University, since leaving Lindhall's company and that of his students', that someone genuinely wanted to listen to him. His assignment teaching the pages was enjoyable, but none of the pages had the raw talent necessary to grasp the greater magics. The Words of Power. The spells that needed blood and time and immaculate energy. So Numair never got to discuss them.

But here was a man, from another world, hanging on every word that fell from his wagging tongue. Numair would be lying to imply that he wasn't preening-just a bit.

Numair coughed and extracted himself from the space traveler's grip slowly, oddly sad to feel the blunt fingers let go, "So tell me about your world, your technology,"

Scotty canted forward even more and rubbed his hands together, "We're from the 23rd Century of our," a wave of the hands, "Realm. We've progressed far past the time period you all are in. This, this all looks like our past. Savin', o'course, the Magic and the fantasy and the Ogres an' such. We're the Crew of the USS Enterprise, call number NCC-1701. She's tha best, and most beautiful starship there is in the entire Fleet. She's all sweet lines, beautiful construction. She can run anything ragged before the dilithium crystals even begin to get warm,"

Numair blinked.

Scotty blushed.

"I… I am unaccustomed to understanding so little of what someone tells me," Numair remarked dryly.

"Aye… Sorry 'bout that. D'ye have paper an' something to write with? Ah can try to make it clearer," Scotty snagged sheaf of parchment and accepted the quill Numair handed him. As Numair hunched closer to Scotty he noticed the flush spreading over the other man's face as he talked. Sure fingers sketched the lines of a most insane looking craft. Scotty labeled the engines, labeled the living areas. The sheer size of the thing boggled Numair's mind. Could something so large really fly on its own?

"It's gigantic…" he breathed, running a finger over the inked lines, "How does it work? You mentioned crystals in the engines?"

"Aye. We use dilithium crystals in the propulsion engines," Scotty launched into an explanation that Numair could barely follow and as he soaked in the new and wild information, Numair felt his entire being drawn in. He couldn't wait to pick the man's brain for everything he knew.

Outside the window a sudden shout drew both men's attention.

"Captain?" Scotty jumped to his feet and rushed to the window, leaning over the edge, his worried face broke into a beaming smile. Soon he was guffawing, collapsed on the sill. Numair leaned over him, hand resting on his back to see what commotion was happening outside. There, in a practice courtyard, stood gathered the Enterprise crew accompanied by Raoul, Keladry, Duke Baird, and Neal. What Scotty was laughing at, however, Numair was sure was the fact that Lady Alanna had evidently just tossed Captain Kirk the length of the practice course. The golden haired captain lay sprawled and wheezing in the dirt as his audience laughed.

"Och, Looks like the Captain has meet 'is match!" Scotty crowed. Numair watch as Alanna hauled the bruised man to his feet and smiled.

"I would have been very surprised if she lost a match,"

"So what's tha deal with 'er anyway? Where we come from, women were nay often knights. At least not real ones,"

"Lady Alanna was the first female knight in living history. She hid her sex, switched places with her twin brother so he could become a sorcerer and she a knight, all because she didn't want to be a waste. She knew she could do it, and she wanted to do great things. And she has. She has done more for this Realm than almost any other person; and in some cases more than King Jonathan. She was a Tool of the Goddess. Destined for greatness. Keladry, on the other hand, was the first legal female page. She overcame the resentment of the conservatives-those that felt and still feel women shouldn't bear weapons, to become the finest Knight in her generation,"

"Ye all talk about your gods like they… exist," Scotty hedged.

Numair looked at him, eyes wide, "Because they do? The Realm of the Gods is adjoined to ours, across a barrier of energy. Do you not have Gods where you come from?"

Scotty looked uncomfortable for a moment, then took a deep breath, "Where we're from, there are as many gods as there are cultures. An' no-one will ever know if they truly are real. We've been to worlds where someone else had got there first an' set themselves up as a god, and more oft than not they were a vengeful god. How can ye all know for sure that these gods are… not like us?"

Numair was silent a moment, thinking about the type of lure it would be, to have an entire world think him a god because of a power he had that they did not.

"Well," he began, "because I've met them. I've seen their Realm. I've studied their histories and seen their power. My wife is the daughter of a minor God and a human. She is on speaking terms with the first Badger, and many other animal Gods. I've seen the Realm of the Black God-Death," he clarified, "I know they are real Gods because they have a real and permanent effect in this world. But they also are bound by their own rules. They are bound to not meddle in the affairs of mortals beyond their use of a Vessel. Someone told me that when they asked the Gods why they didn't just stop the war, or just stop the bad things from happening… They replied with 'Then where is Man's right to choose?'. They do not use us for anything. They merely watch over and try to preserve the balance,"

Then Numair's eyes took a grim cast, "I also know because I fought in their War,"

"The Gods waged a war?" Scotty was still frowning, though he now looked fairly amazed.

"Former Emperor Ozorne… he caused the veil between the mortal and divine realms to dissolve, releasing the Immortals that had been imprisoned there, all at the behest of the Queen of Chaos, sister to the Great Gods. She wanted to topple the world, topple our nations, enslave all living things; mortal, immortal, divine. And he was helping her. We stopped it,"

Scotty reached out to grip Numair's shoulder. About to thank the man, Numair paused. There was a look in his eyes. This man understood the loss that comes with a war no one thought could be won. This man understood the meaning behind not having said 'we won', but rather 'we stopped it'. Lives had been lost; precious lives. This man had also made decisions and seen good people die.

Numair swallowed the unexpected lump of emotion in his throat and blinked away a rare tear,

"Shall we go rejoin your friends?"