He knows we're watching, curse him!

Ba'aque sat ramrod-straight on her chair, eyes riveted on the image hanging in the air. The center of the Hall was now occupied by three scryers. They pooled their power to pierce the Veil and show the Assembly what they saw. Within the misty circle, Tirad strode with casual arrogance down a street of the city humans named New York. And with every obscenely confident step, Ba'aque's hopes faded a little more. No sign of the teh'cherin. No sign of her former captive. Around her, fellow Assembly members spoke in hushed tones. Anticipation was building among Sker's faction and dread in those who once followed her. Heads turned as the door to the Hall opened and a Guard silently made his way down to the Voice with his message. Ba'aque's crest flattened against her skull. The armies were ready. It would take only one move from Tirad to trigger a cataclysm.

Was it all for nothing? she asked herself in despair.

***

Winston braced himself in his seat as Egon wrenched the steering wheel to the left, barely slowing as he turned onto Mott. With the help of their police scanner, their siren and a flagrant disregard for speed limits, they'd managed to detour around the Y'larat and get ahead of him.

I just hope he's none the wiser, Winston thought as Ecto slalomed around slower vehicles. We're gonna need every bit of help we can get.

"He's sure taking his time," Ray said as he looked up from listening to the radio. "He's only just now made it to West 14th Street."

"And why should he hurry, Tex?" Peter asked. "It's a lovely day. The sun is shining through the smog. The pigeons are crapping on everything that moves. Just the perfect day to start Armageddon."

"I don' know, Pete," Winston objected. "I think it's a bit chilly for the End of the World."

"Then wear a sweater," the psychologist retorted. "Seriously, though. Any ideas on how we're gonna stop Chewbacca? Without getting zombified again, that is. Pulling you guys back to reality is entirely too much work."

"And we all know how much you hate that, Dr. Venkman," Egon replied as he swerved around a taxi. "Fortunately, recent events have forced us to develop a countermeasure for Y'larat attack."

"The shielding unit!" Ray exclaimed. "Of course. It blocks all telepathic transmissions. We can use it for protection."

"Marvelous! More silver lining on Petey's little stormcloud," Peter said with distaste. Winston shot him a sympathetic smile.

Guess I can't really blame him for that attitude, he said to himself. If that lizard had only just talked to us instead of barging in and blasting Pete's brains out!

"How big's the diameter on that field again?" Winston asked, thinking ahead to battle strategy. "'Cause we're gonna look pretty silly squished together like sardines when we take this dude on."

"Maximum range is eight feet," Ray said. "But the rate he's going, we should be able to put together another one before he gets to headquarters. Maybe two."

"That will be our priority," Egon agreed. The firehouse was just ahead. The physicist braked abruptly and turned into the open garage.

"Egon!" Janine shouted as Ecto's engine shut down. She was standing beside her desk with the activated shield unit resting on it, proton thrower at the ready. "'Bout time you got here. What'd you guys do? Stop for pizza?"

"Of course, Melnitz!" Peter said with a grin as he pulled himself out of the hearse. "Sorry we didn't save you any."

"Figures, you rat!" she shot back as she holstered the rifle. "So what's the story? Is it safe for me to move?"

"Safe? You? Wearing that skirt?" The psychologist leered and ducked as Janine lobbed a phonebook at him. "Seriously, Janine. Big, Mean and Hairy is far, far away at the moment. And we'll probably need all hands in the lab to get his welcoming party ready."

"But we need an early warning system," Ray said, pausing on the stairs. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey, Slimer! Where are you?"

A green head poked its way through the ceiling. "Ray?"

"Come down here, Slimer. We've got a job for you."

Slimer dropped down to hover just in front of Ray, one hand snapping up in a salute. "Aye-aye, Ray!"

Raymond pointed out the door. "We need you to go down the street about four blocks and keep watch. There's a Y'larat coming this way. When you see him, come back and tell us right away."

"Yerat?" Slimer asked, scratching his head in confusion. Winston sighed as he started up the stairs, hoping it wouldn't take too long for Ray to get the ghost to understand. He froze mid-step as his mind filled with the image of Tirad standing in the subway. Just as abruptly, it was gone.

"That's what you're looking for, Spud. Get out there and don't get distracted."

"Roger, Peter!" Slimer cried as he shot through the wall.

"My God!" Janine whispered. "Was that what we're up against?" Winston then realized that it wasn't a memory he'd experienced. Everyone turned to Peter who sighed and ran one hand through his hair.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Figured it'd save us some time. And don't you start thinking I'm gonna get in the habit of being Slimer's official translator, Ray!"

"If we get out of this alive," Egon said with a quirked eyebrow, "you must find a way to focus your broadcasts."

Winston suddenly got the whimsical mental image of Peter sitting casually atop a radio tower, Aerosmith music radiating from him. In spite of the situation, he had to suppress a snicker as he followed the rest upstairs. Good Lord! Just what we need. Radio Free Venkman.

***

Yes, run away little humans.

Tirad curled his lip in amusement as a group of people who had just turned the corner in front of him, skidded to a halt, then backpedaled and fled back the way they had come.

Run far, far away. Maybe some of you will survive to serve the Y'larat in the new order.

He ran over the directions in his mind. His next turn would be onto "Lafayette", then "Bleecker Street" and finally "Mott". His goal was almost at the end of thats particular road. His pace quickened as he looked carefully at each sign, spelling out the symbols to find one that matched the map.

He took his time, savoring the warmth of the sun on his fur, the terror he inspired in the humans as he passed. He had waited a long time for this day, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

***

"Is this what we pay you for, Melnitz? To sit around all day?"

Janine shot a scathing look up at her employer as she pressed the squelch button on the radio. "Yes, it is, Dr. V. And, believe me, you don't pay me anywhere near enough."

Peter smirked and dropped in a boneless sprawl across a nearby armchair. Janine wondered (not for the first time) if the psychologist was part cat...or perhaps had a shark's cartilage skeleton.

"And just what are you doing down here, Dr. Venkman?" she asked. "I thought the lab was top priority."

"For your information," he replied loftily as he leaned back and closed his eyes. "I provided my colleagues with such excellent assistance that they decided to reward me with a well-deserved break."

Janine's eyes raked over Peter's form, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the pale skin and general air of exhaustion. Translation from Venkmanese, she thought to herself, they threw him out before he ran himself into the ground. She'd been given a quick briefing on the events in the subway station before resuming her post at the radio. She was surprised Peter was still on his feet at this point.

"Guess it was rough out there today," she finally said, dropping the antagonistic mask. Peter's eyelids rose to half mast for a moment, then, with a heavy sigh, slid shut again.

"You could say that. Swimming upstream through someone's braincase really takes it out of you. This must be how a salmon feels at the end of the spring rush."

"As long as you don't go into a mating frenzy on me, Dr. V." Janine smirked. Peter propped one eye open to shoot her a half-hearted leer.

"Only if you ask nicely." He smiled at Janine's snort and hauled himself to a slightly more upright position.

"The boy geniuses had better get those extra shields working, or I'm docking their pay," he said with a worried glance at the stairs. "Believe me, Janine. You do not want to go through what they did."

"It's not exactly on my dream list," she replied tartly. "And having you wander around in my subconscious is not in my contract."

"Trust me, Melnitz. There's no place in the world I'd rather avoid," he shot back. "I've got enough mental scarring as it is." Abruptly, he broke off his part in their informal one-upmanship contest. He leaned forward, crossing his arms on his knees, and stared at the floorboards. Janine cocked her head to one side as a worried frown creased a faint line between her eyes.

"Hey." She got up from her seat and stepped over to Peter's armchair. Sitting on the arm, she nudged his shoulder. "What's wrong, Dr. V.?"

Peter turned his head to look up at her, his eyes troubled.. "It's just...well, I guess you kinda know how difficult this whole thing is for me. It's bad enough that I had to...go into the guys' minds to pull them out of the pit. But I kinda had permission from them beforehand. And they trust me."

"Yeah, they trust you," Janine agreed, but she couldn't resist adding, "Heaven only knows why."

"Careful, Melnitz," Peter warned. "Remember who signs your check."

And, color me nuts, but so do I, she said to herself. She briefly wondered if he could hear her, then shrugged off the thought.

Peter dropped the banter and continued. "The guys know me, but the other two." He shook his head. "Tirad had put the whammy on a couple other people when we got there. We needed information so I..." he broke off and rubbed his face with his hands. "I had to be rough with one of them to get her out of it. It was wrong. Every bit of it was wrong, but I didn't have a choice."

Janine let one of her rare, gentle smiles come through as she patted Peter's shoulder. "You did the best you could, Dr. V. When you're hip deep in crap, you just have to use what you've got. I'm sure the guys will agree that you only did what was necessary."

NECESSARY!

Janine was completely unprepared for the blast of anger, fear and self-disgust that hit her as that word echoed in her mind. She heard a small clatter from upstairs, probably a tool hitting the floor. She was about to shout at Peter to stop it, but he seemed to realize it on his own. He relaxed his clenched fists and cut off the projection.

Sorry, guys.

The words that drifted through her mind were bone-weary. Peter looked up at her with an expression to match.

"Sorry about that, Janine. It's just...I'm really starting to hate that word."

"You okay, m'man?" Janine turned around to see Winston on the stairs to the third floor. Peter waved him over.

"Aside from feeling like Tolay used me for a toothbrush, I'm just peachy, Zed." Peter propped his feet up on the coffee table and slid down in the chair until he sat on the base of his spine. "What happened? You get tossed out on your ear, too? Endangered one of Egon's fungi with a wildly flailing soldering iron and got yourself exiled from the sanctum sanctorum?"

Winston rolled his eyes and dropped onto the couch. "Get serious, homeboy. We've gotta talk strategy."

"What strategy?" Peter asked lazily. "Once we've got the shields, we hide behind them and Tirad goes BOOM."

"Think, Pete," Winston said in mild rebuke. "Those shielding units aren't the most portable things around to begin with, and the power packs that Egon and Ray are hooking them to so that we don't have to use really, really long extension cords are even less portable."

Janine recalled the size of the devices she'd seen being put together in the lab and found herself agreeing with Winston. "Yeah, it'd be a neat trick trying to run around carrying one of those things while trying to hit the broad side of a demon with a proton beam."

"Okay, Winston, you don't have to draw me a diagram," Peter said with a groan. "You're saying that mobility is going to be an issue if we don't want to go zombie."

"Especially since two of us are going to have to double up," Winston confirmed with a nod. "We're only gonna have three of those things."

"You mean four of us are gonna double up," Janine broke in, challenge in every line of her body. "I'm not sitting out this one and that's final!"

Peter looked at Janine, then turned to Winston and shrugged. "Have it your way, Melnitz. What were you thinking, Zed?"

"Some kind of ambush," he answered. "Thing is, we've got to have a way to get him right where we want him, or he'll fly the coop."

Peter fell silent and chewed his lower lip for a moment. When he looked up, he did not look happy. "Okay, good news and bad news. Good news is I have an idea."

Janine snorted. "And the bad news is you have an idea."

Peter made a buzzer sound. "Wrong! Thank you for playing, Miss Melnitz. Do you have a guess, Mr. Zeddemore?"

"Bad news is that I'm gonna hate it?" Winston asked.

"You, me, the Wonder Twins and maybe even Janine here."

Janine glared at the psychologist. She could already tell she was gonna hate this plan.

***

What is this?

Tirad frowned as he caught sight of a vehicle in the distance, sitting square in the middle of the road. For the last few blocks, his path had been practically deserted by both cars and pedestrians as word spread of his coming. Perhaps a foolhardy enforcer had a mad notion to be a hero. The Y'larat chuckled quietly at the notion. I suppose I should kill this one, he thought. If the humans are to be of any use as servants, such stupidity must be culled from the breed.

Amusement faded and was slowly replaced by alarm as he drew closer to it. It wasn't an enforcer vehicle. It was that graceless conveyance used by the Ghostbusters! This planet's enforcers were pathetic, but the Ghostbusters were a true threat if they had found some way to fight off his memory-lock. Tirad froze in his tracks as his keen eyes examined the situation. The only other visible occupant of the street was a single, brown-clad human standing in front of the white car. He then reached out with his Other Senses. Y'larat psi-talent was mainly projective in nature, but it was usually sufficient to detect the presences of other sentient lifeforms. Again, only one mind and this one...

Oh, ho! Tirad thought with satisfaction. Shielded! Amateurish but effective. So that is how you managed to fight off my mind-hold.

Almost lazily, Tirad resumed his advance. His lip curled in a smirk as the human tensed and readied his weapon. He does not lack for courage, I'll give him that, the Y'larat thought. Perhaps I can bring him to see reason. It would be a shame to waste such potential.

He stopped several yards away from the vehicle and crossed his arms across his chest. "You do realize that your efforts are quite futile," he told the human. "I admit that I am surprised to find that not all humans are head-blind. Perhaps if your friends shared your ability, you would have a chance against me. But alone?" Tirad shook his head in mock sorrow. "It is insane to throw your life away for nothing."

He saw a muscle in the human's jaw twitch, but the Ghostbuster did not waver. He raised his weapon to center on Tirad's chest.

"I always thought sanity was overrated," he all but snarled, desperation plain on his face. "Besides, I don't think I'd sleep well at night if I didn't at least try to keep you from turning the Big Apple into the world's biggest glass-top coffee table."

The Y'larat frowned. "A...what?"

"Blow up containment," the human grated out between clenched teeth. "I figured out your little game. You blow containment, make your little gate and, in the process, make Chernobyl look like a cherry bomb. Nuh-uh, Chewbacca. That's not going to happen on Peter Venkman's watch!"

"Oh, that," Tirad laughed with a negligent wave of his hand. "I suppose if I had to blast through your device's defenses, there would be a certain amount of...collateral damage. But, if you will be reasonable, I believe we can avoid it."

The human startled, his eyes going wide in shock, then narrowing in suspicion. "Excuse me if I find that a little hard to swallow. I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday, you know."

"But I am being quite truthful, Peter Venkman. If I am able to devote my energy and attention solely to building the gate without distraction, I will be able to channel all the power of your containment unit into the gate. There will be nothing left over for this `Chernobyl' you speak of." The Y'larat dropped his jaw in a grin. "All you would have to do is open your prison for me."

"Yeah, right!" Venkman snapped. "I open it for you, your buddies come in, then the Gaurnim join the party for a nice little Holocaust. Somehow, that just doesn't sound like a fun night on the town."

"You are remarkably well informed, human," Tirad observed, now somewhat impressed. "But you need not fear those mincing scale-skins. Your people need only ally with me. Become willing servants of the Y'larat, and, once we grind the Gaurnim and their collaborators into the dust, your race will have power like unto kings."

Venkman snorted in derision. "Pull the other one, bunky," he said. "First, I may be a prince among men, but I don't claim to speak for all of them. Second, you seem to be suffering from a major delusion of grandeur, because, from what I've heard, you don't speak for the Y'larat either. They threw you out of office, right?"

Tirad felt a growl escape his throat and his hands curled into claws as long smoldering rage bubbled to the surface. "And they will soon realize their error," he growled. He took another step forward, forcing the human to back up against his vehicle in fear. "True, I do not now lead the entirety of the Y'larat, but my allies on the Counsel are ready. Once the gate is opened, the Gaurnim will attack. In the confusion of that crisis, my friends will stage their coup." His eyes glittered as he looked down at the human. "So you would be wise to keep that fact in mind."

The Ghostbuster laughed nervously. "I guess you've got all your ducks in a row then."

"I do attempt to plan for most contingencies," Tirad replied, getting his temper back under control with effort. "You were unexpected, but I have learned to be flexible with my plans. Even if others of your race do not willingly join my new order, there could be a high place for you."

Venkman shrugged. "Ehhhhh...can't say I ever cared for government work. Long hours, lousy pay and daily migraines."

"Perhaps something of more personal value, then?" Tirad asked, his voice lowering. "It is painfully obvious that you know next to nothing of shielding technique." He chuckled quietly as the human looked up at him in alarm. "Oh, you do quite well for someone who has not had training. And your shields probably are quite effective in the short term." He cocked his head to one side and gave Venkman a sad smile. "But how often do they fail? You must spend most of your waking hours patching holes as they crumble around you. How long can you keep this up until you flee into exile from all other minds...or until it drives you mad?"

Tirad savored the surge of triumph as he saw his barbs strike home. The human was actually considering his offer. Yes, this would make things much easier. "Do you accept my generous offer, Peter Venkman?" he asked. "Your city and your mind safe. Your race exalted. All this and more I offer in return for a small amount of cooperation."

The human stared at Tirad, his face an expressionless mask, then he caught sight of something and smiled. "Sorry, Fuzzy-wuzzy, but I think we can handle all that on our own. HIT IT!"

Tirad was ready for the proton blast Venkman fired at him...but was caught totally off-guard by the three that came from behind. With a howl of pain, he poured energy into his physical shields.

How?

He turned slightly to see the three other Ghostbusters, along with an unfamiliar woman, scattered across the street in an arc. It was obvious now. Peter Venkman was a diversion to let the others get into position. But why hadn't he sensed them? Pushing that thought to the side as irrelevant, he reached out with his mind to lock their consciousness away once more.

What? Impossible!

He could feel Venkman's resistance behind him, but the other humans appeared to be completely unaffected. With a snarl of frustration, he put all his energy into his physical shielding.

"Fools!" he cried. "Do you really believe you can outlast me with your devices?!"

***

Great! Got ourselves a goddamned stalemate! Peter grumbled silently as he concentrated on holding his proton thrower steady. Between him, Zed, Ray and Janine, they had Tirad pinned down, but, until they found a way to get past his shields, Egon couldn't risk using the destabilizer.

And it was going so well for one of my plans. Although they had no real idea of the extent of the Y'larat's psi-ability, Peter had argued that, even if Tirad had realized that one of them had fought off the mind hold, he probably figured one Ghostbuster wasn't a threat since he simply left him behind. In that case, he probably wouldn't be too surprised to see Peter, but wouldn't expect the other Ghostbusters, especially when they went in hiding behind their artificial shields.

Lucky for me Tirad likes to run his mouth as much as I do. Easy as pie to keep him busy while the team sneaked in. Maybe a little too easy. I should have known Murphy couldn't resist a chance to screw with me. He blinked furiously to clear the sweat dripping into his eyes.

"No good! We're not getting through!" Winston yelled.

"Boost the power!" Egon ordered from across the road. The whine of the proton packs went up in pitch as they complied with the instruction. Tirad staggered under the increased assault, but his shields still held. Peter glanced at the power indicator on his pack. One-third depleted already and dropping fast.

Okay, this is not good. We don't get this wrapped up soon, all we'll have left to throw at him is harsh language. At least Chewy isn't projecting anymore. I was ready for it this time, but I didn't need that drain...

Like a bolt from the blue, inspiration struck.

Son of a bitch! I'm sure he doesn't need the drain either. Peter observed their adversary closely. He's gotta be feeling the strain now. Okay, you bastard! Time for a taste of your own medicine!

"It's a good thing you insisted on me keeping the radio on, Spengs," he murmured into the microphone Ray had run to his collar. Going in wired in case he got into trouble with Tirad was the only way he got the team to agree to his plan. "I'm gonna try something. Be ready."

He knew that he couldn't simply broadcast his thoughts the way he had earlier. This had to hit Tirad and Tirad alone or it would do more harm than good. Peter focused his attention completely on the Y'larat standing before him as he deliberately gathered every bit of anger inside him and condensed it into a stiletto blade of pure rage. He held it back, letting it build inside until he was practically quivering with fury, then let it fly. It worked! He pierced Tirad's weakened psychic shields like a bullet and drove his way deep into the Y'larat's consciousness.

Payback's a bitch! he laughed in his enemy's mind as he twisted the 'knife' and Tirad howled in shock and pain. That's for Egon! And that's for Ray! And that's for Winston! With each name, he stabbed deeper and deeper.

The entity tried to strengthen his mental defenses, pushing Peter out of his thoughts, but doing so took his attention away from his physical shields. He howled again as the proton beams penetrated. As he tried to increase his physical defenses, Peter renewed his attack. Tirad kept see-sawing back and forth between two battlefronts, only able to respond to one attack at a time. Peter shut off his beam, needing all his concentration to keep his attack from bleeding over into his friends' minds , but three beams seemed to be doing the trick at this point. He kept up the pressure, dropping his own shields to divert the energy into his mental duel. It demanded so much concentration that he was only dimly aware of the rising sense of triumph in his friends. Tirad's pain and fear...that he felt in great detail due to the link he had established, but he stubbornly ignored it.

"Now, Egon!"

The lower-pitched drone of the destabilizer joined the cacophony and Tirad's screams became frantic as he felt his body losing cohesion. Peter fumbled for his trap and managed to slide it under the Y'larat without letting up much on his front.

"Trap out!" he yelled to the team.

"Now, Peter!" Ray yelled back.

Peter stomped on the pedal and light exploded upward from the box, pulling Tirad down into it.

"Bye-bye, Fuzzball!" Janine called from her position next to Egon. "And say hello to the other wannabe emperors we've got in containment!"

Curse you! Tirad's mind-voice echoed down the link as Peter started pulling back. Curse you and yours to the end of time!

Tirad lashed out at Peter one last time as the trap doors closed. His shields gone, Peter had no defense at all. Rage, hatred and blinding terror burned their way down the freshly healed channels of his mind. Belatedly, he tried to block, but it was too late. Tirad's parting shot sent him flying into oblivion.

***

Sker stared at the scrying image, numb with shock. He, along with the entire Assembly, had watched Tirad's march through the human city. He had recognized the lone human who had challenged the Y'larat agitator as the one Ba'aque had kidnapped and later released. He had thought it an interesting coincidence.

It was quite obvious now that it was anything but a coincidence. Sker was stubborn, but he was no fool. While the other humans attacked the invader with their technology, that one had attacked with his mind. Sker had seen mind-warriors in action before, and he knew the signs. It had been telepathic fighting which had finally turned the tide in the War, so he had studied the techniques carefully in his preparations for the next war which he had thought inevitable. But Tirad disappeared into the humans' trap, taking with him all of Sker's plans to remove the Y'larat menace once and for all. All that was left was the scrying image which now showed the mind-warrior lying insensible on the ground, blood trickling from one nostril. His image was joined by others as his comrades rushed over to give aid.

"Enough," the Voice said. "It appears that there is no longer a danger of the Pact being broken. You may break the scry."

As the scryers released the image, the Voice turned to a nearby Guard. "Carry this message to the generals. All troops may stand down."

As the Guard hurried out with his message, Sker turned his gaze to Ba'aque. Fury was boiling up within him now. He realized what Ba'aque had done, how she had used him. And it was obvious from the looks the rest of the Assembly were giving her, that they had figured it out as well. Her supporters looked at her with restored faith and perhaps rebuke for not trusting them with knowledge of her plans.

Very well, Honorable Ba'aque, he seethed. Your plan was clever, but you had to break our law to accomplish it. Do not think for a moment I will allow you to get away with no penalty. In all things, the laws and the forms must be obeyed.

"Our emergency now ended, we shall resume the trial of Ba'aque," the Voice said, gesturing for Sker and Ba'aque to rejoin him in the circle. "Honorable Ba'aque, how do you plead?"

Ba'aque turned slowly to face Sker who was practically bristling with repressed fury. She closed her eyes and nodded to herself, as if she had confirmed something she had expected.

"Honorable Assembly," she said in a clear voice. "I, Ba'aque, do hear-by plead guilty to all charges and submit myself for punishment."