Originally published in Compadres 20

"But we have to go," Ray Stantz insisted, an eager smile upon his face. "It's the last con the GalaxyQuest actors will attend before they start filming the new series. I don't want to miss it."

"Yeah, I have to say I agree with Ray on this one," said Winston Zeddemore. "I used to watch GalaxyQuest when it was first on. Beside, a couple of Babylon 5 actors are supposed to be there, too, and that's a good show. Great script writing. And somebody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

"And a couple of guys from the comic books," chipped in Ray. "Len Wolfman will be there to tell about the new issue of Captain Steel. But I want to see the GalaxyQuest actors. They'll all be there."

"Come on, guys, GalaxyQuest is just a cheap ripoff of Star Trek," Peter muttered. "That Nesmith guy has got a Shatner complex if I ever saw one." He added with a faint smile, "Buffy's a babe, though."

"Perhaps a little young for you, Peter."

He elbowed Egon with mock annoyance. "So what? She's not gonna be there, anyway. Besides, she probably appreciates a classic." He struck a pose.

The Ghostbusters had gathered in front of the television set the night before the New York MegaCon. Peter had approved the contract when they'd been invited to attend as guests, but now, at the last minute, he was having second thoughts. It wasn't as if the fee was that great, anyway.

Egon had never had first thoughts. He had agreed to go under protest. Cons and Egon were as likely a match as chalk and cheese. "I'll go," he had claimed when Peter had waved the contract in his face. "But I won't like it." He would do his duty to promote the business, but he'd far rather stay in his lab and work on his experiments than attend a science fiction convention. Maybe he had the right idea.

"I would have thought you'd want to see Gwen DeMarco, Peter," Winston kidded. "She's a babe, too."

Peter shook his head vehemently. "Not my type. This whole thing is so lame."

"But, Peter, we're being paid to appear at the convention," Egon reminded him. "If I have to go under protest, then you must go as well. Remember, I do know how to disintegrate you with one burst of the thrower."

Peter ignored the threat. Egon made them periodically but it would take someone a lot more annoying than Peter to drive him to carrying them out. "Okay, so we won't get paid as much as we'd make on a bust. Can't you guys handle this without me?"

"No," the other three Ghostbusters chorused. "We have to give a demonstration of the throwers," Winston said. "And I betcha anything we'll be signing autographs. Come on, Pete, a lot of women go to these things. You'll have fun."

Peter shook his head. Never mind that Gwen DeMarco, who had played airhead crewman Tawny Madison on GalaxyQuest, reminded him of a blonde Dana Barrett. That wasn't why he didn't want to go, was it? It had been years since he'd seen Dana, years since he'd even thought of the great love of his life except in passing. Still, he didn't need the reminder.

"Come on, Peter," wheedled Ray--and no one could wheedle quite like Ray. He even turned on that earnest, puppy dog eyes gaze of his. "Besides, you know what they're saying on the con circuit; that the actors from the show actually went into space and saved some alien race."

Peter groaned. "Spare me, Ray. I believe that like I believe I'm going to win the lottery tomorrow. It's just hype for their new series. A publicity stunt. You don't really believe a cornball rumor like that, do you?"

"Well, we've been in space," Ray reminded him.

"Sure, courtesy of NASA."

"Well, they practically crash-landed a spaceship at that last GalaxyQuest con," said Ray. "I know a couple guys who were there and saw it. They said it was real, and that a nasty alien came out and Jason Nesmith blasted it."

"Publicity stunt." Peter noticed that Egon seemed to agree with him. "The magic word here is money. You said they'd pay us. Okay, I'll be a martyr. But I won't like it."

"Great. Then let's get into our jumpsuits and head over there. I know there's a pre-con party tonight that will be really super."

"Ray," said Peter sternly. "Our contract says we show up tomorrow morning. I am not dragging myself out again tonight for anything short of a Class 7 demon running riot in Central Park."

Ray's face fell. "I thought it would've been neat," he said as he resigned himself to an evening in front of the television.

Another day, another convention, thought Jason Nesmith, GalaxyQuest's intrepid Peter Quincy Taggart. After the show had been canceled in 1982, he'd attended so many cons that they all ran together in his memory. It was a gas, all the admiring fans, but there had been times when he'd wondered how his life had turned out the way it had. All these cons. Every one alike.

Except for the last one.

As he took his place behind the autograph table, he gave a wry grin to his fellow cast members. These days, he didn't hold out for the separate table and the special attention. Facing death with a bunch of people far from Earth had turned them into more than just people he worked with. It had changed them into a family. Especially Gwen. This con, he sat next to her at the table, grinning like an idiot whenever a fan noticed the diamond on her left hand. After all these years, he'd finally popped the question. It had stunned him when she had said yes, but he was still floating on a wave of triumph and delight. The fans were great, the con was great, and there was a brand new show lined up. 'The Journey Continues.' Everybody was back, even poor old Guy, who had run around the whole experience convinced he was the expendable crewman, and Fred's new lady friend, Laliari. Nesmith had seen the first two scripts and they were pretty damn good.

Beside him on the other side, Alexander Dane groaned and muttered, "They can't be serious." He would have raked irritated hands through his hair, but the Mak-tar head appliance covered it. He ought to be like Nimoy and appear as his normal self, but their contracts always called for him to attend cons in character as Doctor Lazarus. Of course Alex was not exactly a sparkling fountain of joy and enthusiasm on the best of days, even when he was appliance free, although he'd mellowed out somewhat after their adventure with the Thermians.

"Who can't?" Jason asked. "I thought we'd get through this whole con without a panic attack."

"It isn't a panic attack, it's the Ghostbusters," the British actor muttered in tones of great disgust.

"Hey, look at that," cried Tommy Webber from his chair beyond Gwen. "The Ghostbusters are here. I heard they were guests with us. That's pretty cool."

Doubtfully, Jason eyed the four men who stood in the line in front of them. No secret about who they were; they wore their Ghostbusting uniforms and--what did they call them?--proton packs on their backs.

"Us and those two guys from Babylon 5, and some script guy from Buffy, and a couple of comic book writers," Fred Kwan said in his deadpan voice. It took a lot to ruffle Fred, although the digital conveyer on the Protector II had come close. Jason hadn't exactly liked that either--until it saved him from the rock creature.

"Tell me about the Ghostbusters, Fred." Laliari had her arm linked with Fred's. Probably had her tentacles linked with him under the table, too, where the fans couldn't see. That was still a little disconcerting.

"I'll tell you about the Ghostbusters," said the spook chaser in the lead. A cocky grin on his face, he beamed at Laliari as if he'd just spotted the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. "What do they teach you out there in La La Land, anyway?"

Laliari was too new to Earth to be current on all the slang. Futuristic GalaxyQuest slang was natural to her, but she was learning things the 'historical documents' had never taught her, and one of them was that Fred wasn't the only human who wanted to jump her bones.

"I'm Peter Venkman," the Ghostbuster continued smoothly. "And these are my buddies." He introduced them in turn. "Ray has been raving about you characters for hours. Come here, Ray. Here they are. Heroes of your favorite show."

"Oh, gosh." Ray Stantz had the big-eyed stare of a devoted fan. "You went into space!" he burst out. "You landed a spaceship at the last con! Wow, that's great! We've been in space, too, but only in orbit."

"You've been reading our PR," Alexander said dampeningly. The official policy was to deny that what had happened was anything but a publicity stunt. Jason and his 'crew' knew what had really happened, and the L.A. fans were convinced of it, but the rest of the world appeared to believe the incident was California hype. Of course the die-hard fans followed the cast from con to con, and even the ones who didn't knew fans in other places followed it through the internet--there were a lot of GalaxyQuest lists and websites out there--so the fannish underground was convinced of it. The actors had met and agreed that they would pretend it had been no more than hype. It wasn't as if Mathasar and the Thermians were going to show up, now that they had defeated Sarris, to blow their cover.

"No way," Ray plunged on. "I know five people who were right there on the spot and saw the whole thing. I think it's great." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But if it's a secret, we can play along. Most people away from the con circuit won't believe it anyway. I know. A lot of people out there don't believe in ghosts, either."

It was clear that Alexander was one of them. Ray must have seen it in his face, and he reared back in astonishment. "Gosh, you think we're con artists," he mourned, stricken. "And you're British," he accused him as if that should make a huge difference.

Alexander didn't appear to know how to take that. Jason had to hide a smile. His friend could be prickly without the slightest hesitation. "And if I am?"

"Well, statistics prove that a higher percentage of people in England believe in ghosts," Ray insisted earnestly. "We hardly ever get calls to bust in England. The Brits are proud of their ghosts. We'll have our own ghost, Slimer, here this afternoon for our question and answer session. We'd have him now but Peter didn't want Slimer here any sooner than we had to."

"I'll buy that," muttered Fred. He didn't look at all alarmed at the thought of 'Slimer', though. Crazy name for a ghost, anyway.

"No, it'll be great," enthused Tommy. Okay, so after running into Sarris a ghost would be nothing. Jason had to admit he was a lot calmer about things like cars that failed to start and unexpected daily crises after racing through tunnels and passages and 'choppers' to shut down the nuclear reactor on the Protector II. Taking on evil aliens and rock creatures and pig-lizards made a ghost seem tame by comparison.

"I think it'll be interesting," Gwen put in. Peter eyed her uneasily out of the corner of his eye. From the way he had been ready to hit on Laliari, Jason had been prepared to come down on him hard if he'd tried anything on Gwen, but he hadn't. Funny. You'd think he'd be just the type.

Egon Spengler, the tall, blond guy with the hair that looked like a stylist's nightmare, said to his teammates, "Perhaps we should move along. We're holding up the line."

"No problem." Winston Zeddemore had been pumping the hands of the cast as he moved through the line. "It's early yet. The line'll get long later and we'll be sitting soon enough." He nodded at the place further down the tables reserved for the Ghostbusters. "This is great. I've been a fan since Episode One." He raised his hand to Alexander in the traditional Mak'tar salute. "By Grabthar's Hammer, I salute you." Alexander winced, but Jason didn't think it was because he was sick and tired of 'that line', the way he'd been before their trip into space. Now, hearing it must remind him of Quelleg, the Thermian who had died in the fight against Sarris. Jason gave him a quick nudge under the table. Alexander played up and returned the salute unenthusiastically. Had to be tough on the guy. At least Winston hadn't said anything about being avenged.

Ray shook hands with Guy. "Hey, I remember you. You were in Episode 81." Guy looked delighted. He was still riding the high of their space adventure and being cast in the new series.

Abruptly, a pushy fan crowded in between Peter and Egon. "Peter Quincy Taggart," he intoned in an ominous voice. Jason felt a chill shiver through him. Over the years he'd run into one or two crazed fans who were way over the top and this might be another of them. He raised his eyes to signal security. The Ghostbusters stiffened to alertness. They must have encountered their share of deranged groupies, too.

The fan raised a device and pushed a button on it. It was about the size of a vox but it was made of a heavy-looking dark metal and adorned with four buttons in a row, so it obviously wasn't a prop communicator. "Now," said the crazy fan, "Sarris will be avenged." Damn it, Jason had been too quick to be relieved about the absence of such dialog. The security guard started toward them, Peter Venkman gave the guy a look that suggested he was about to draw his Ghostbusting weapon, and the next minute, fluid flowed around them from the feet up, enclosing them in a substance that was far too familiar to Jason. He saw the startled Ghostbusters struggle to resist, start to reach for weapons, only to be contained in the fluid field. With a zip of alien energy, the entire GalaxyQuest crew and all four Ghostbusters were somewhere else.

"Good trick," Peter muttered automatically as the field melted away. God, that was not fun. The experience left him icy cold and shaking, his insides revolting. Had he actually seen outer space rushing past for a second there? Okay, who dropped acid in his drink? He craned his neck. Where were they? This sure as hell wasn't the con hotel. Was that teleportation? Beam me up, Scotty. His buddies were all with him, every one of them shaking with reaction to the experience, although Egon had his meter in his hand and was already working on it. The actors from GalaxyQuest were here, too.

Peter had gotten really bad vibes off the fan--there were always a few nutcase groupies out there; Egon's cousin the rock star had once been dogged by a demon groupie--but now, he looked at the guy, saw him push another button on his gizmo, and then, whoosh, he wasn't a fan after all but a huge, towering green monster with scales and an evil glitter in his beady little eyes. No, they sure weren't at the con any longer. Probably the Netherworld, and if that dude wasn't a demon, Peter had never seen one. The actors and the four Ghostbusters stood on a slightly raised circular platform in a metal-walled room that vibrated subliminally beneath their feet. Through chattering teeth, Ray let out an excited, "Wow," but Egon fiddled with his P.K.E. meter and took a reading of the entity. Waiting for the detection device to go into high gear--demons had a tendency to cause the meters to overload at such close proximity--Peter was astonished when it failed to react.

"It's not a Class 7?" Ray blurted.

"No. I get no ectoplasmic readings from it at all. Negative valence but not as if it were simply a physical entity. It"s alive--"

"Jason, I think this is the Protector II," blurted Alexander Dane.

"It sure is," muttered Fred Kwan.

"Our buddy looks a lot like Sarris," groaned Tommy Webber.

"Sarris? Isn't that the guy you fought when you wound up in outer space?" Ray's eyes were huge. "You mean he came back to life?"

"Not unless he could reintegrate his atoms," Jason murmured. "That isn't Sarris, but it's one of his race."

"And not a ghost." Egon adjusted the meter and it gave off a weird squawk. "How intriguing. These are biorhythm readings, but they are like none I have ever seen." He had already shaken off the effects of the teleportation gig. How did he do that?

"Silence!" the towering being commanded. "You are not of the crew of the Protector. You are not wanted here, but you are here, so you must also die."

"Wait a minute. Who said anything about dying?" Winston muttered uneasily.

"I never thought about Sarris's guys wanting revenge," Tommy blurted, his face full of dismay.

Fred reached out for Laliari's hand. And, omigod, what was that? When had the babe grown tentacles? She had one of them wrapped around Fred's waist, and he didn't look remotely surprised. Peter felt his eyes bugging out. Ray breathed a second fascinated, "Wow!"

"Commander. We have failed you again."

The voice spoke in English, but with a weird inflection that went up and down in an almost singsong pattern with the accents on words Peter would have left uninflected. At the speech, Venkman saw two newcomers issued into the room at gunpoint--or whatever that weird weapon was. A ray gun? It sure wasn't something as tidy and smooth as a Star Trek phaser. Another of the big lizard guys followed the two dudes with slicked hair and silvery uniforms, and he looked mean and threatening. The weapon in his hand was huge and bulky, but Peter was pretty sure it was deadly. He passed another gun to the one who had snatched them from the con.

"Mathasar," cried Jason in recognition. "What happened?"

Mathasar caught up the Commander's hand and squeezed it. He had a patch on the left breast of his uniform that matched the GalaxyQuest logo Peter had seen hanging above the autograph line. These must be some of the friendly aliens Ray had claimed the GalaxyQuest cast had rescued last time. Uneasily Venkman eyed the aliens with the guns, but they merely watched, radiating complacency, and didn't try to halt the evident reunion. It looked like Ray's claim that the actors had gone into space was more than just a publicity stunt for their new series.

The alien guy, Mathasar, started talking. He looked human, but he also resembled Laliari with her tentacles enough to make Peter suspect 'human' wasn't his natural appearance, either. "When we returned through the black hole, they were waiting with three ships. They captured us. My crew is locked away in the main barracks. We tried to fight them as you would have done. We used your example from the historical documents, but they killed one of us for each attempt at freedom." He greeted each member of the GalaxyQuest cast, including the two newest actors, Fleegman and the alien woman.

"Historical documents?" echoed Egon in an aside.

Ray muttered under his breath, "Tell you later."

"There was nothing you could have done, Mathasar." Nesmith's voice was full of sympathy. All that actor ego, the Shatner complex Peter had heard he possessed, dropped away in a heartbeat. He was a man talking to a comrade in arms, and Peter's opinion of him started to alter.

"We have failed you," Mathasar repeated, and the other alien nodded his head in agreement.

"No, you stayed alive, and that's what matters," Jason pointed out. "Now that we're together, we'll work something out." He nodded at the other man. "Teb."

Uncertain of whether that was a name or a greeting, Peter decided it was the former when the guy with the slicked back hair and prominent widow's peak replied, "Commander." Did they really think Nesmith was his TV counterpart?

To Peter's surprise, Mathasar turned to him. "Doctor Venkman," he cried in awe-filled tones. "Doctor Stantz. Doctor Spengler. Mister Zeddemore." He grabbed each man's hand in turn with both of his.

"You know us?" Winston asked in surprise.

Mathasar and Teb laughed weirdly. "You are nearly as famous to us as the Commander and his crew," Mathasar explained. "We have watched your daring adventures in the historical documents, in your animated representations. We have since attempted to record certain of our histories in that form. It has proven most challenging."

"You watch our show?" Peter asked, tickled.

Jason gave him a nudge with his elbow. "They watch your historical documents, Venkman. They study our history that way."

The meaning clicked. "Gotcha," Peter muttered. Well, most of the episodes of their cartoon show were based on real busts, after all, so, in a way, they really were 'historical documents'. Mathasar and his buddies might think Nesmith was the heroic Peter Quincy Taggart, but Peter and the other Ghostbusters were the real thing. What's more, they had their proton packs with them, and the bad guys hadn't attempted to remove them. He couldn't help wondering if these Sarris guys ever popped a tape of the Ghostbusters cartoon into the alien version of the VCR or DVD player--Peter had worked out a contract for releasing their episodes on DVD just last week--and clued in to how the throwers worked. If they didn't, it meant the Ghostbusters were armed and the baddies didn't know it.

So they had to get a handle on what was going down here before they started blasting. And be careful, because the time they'd been on a bust on the space station, they hadn't dared fire in the direction of the outer hull. Last thing they wanted to do was open the ship to the vacuum of space.

"Enough talk," the alien who had come after them at the con interrupted. "Silence. We will take you now to Hath-Sarris."

"But Sarris is dead," Gwen murmured, edging closer to Jason, who snatched up her hand.

The alien backhanded her across the face. Jason lunged at him in a fury, and Peter felt himself moving forward, too. God, she did look like Dana.

"I'm all right." Gwen held up her head with stubborn pride. Dana might have looked like that as she fought off Zuul's possession. Peter shivered. This was not fun.

They bunched together under the guns of the two aliens. Peter eyed the weapons measuringly and saw Nesmith and his buddies doing the same. It was funny, but from the moment they'd shaken off that outer space slime that had been used to zap them here, the actors had stepped into the roles of their TV personas. They might be uneasy and tense, but they suddenly looked and behaved like the crew of the Protector in those old episodes Ray and Winston watched. Good. That made it easier.

None of them were trying anything, though. Probably the wisest thing. They needed to figure out the set-up, how many aliens were on board, whether Mathasar's crew were under threat of execution, things like that. Peter caught the gaze of his buddies and sent them a warning. We'll check out the opposition first.

Ray restrained himself with a visible effort. Egon inclined his head in agreement, nodded at the meter he still held, and looked pointedly at the proton pack on Winston's back. We can do this, his gaze said. The team had been on enough busts over the years to be able to send signals to each other without giving anything away.

Peter saw Mathasar picking up on it. Probably had curled up in front of the TV or monitor or whatever it was they had out here, a bowl of their popcorn equivalent in his tentacles, and watched the Ghostbusters in action. They'd needed a space crew before, not Ghostbusters, so they'd recruited Jason's buddies. This time, they had both. Peter hoped Ray had been right about the actors actually helping to defeat the nasty aliens. They'd just team up this time. They'd know this ship if it was a replica of their TV vessel, and Mathasar's people would probably help out; they'd want revenge.

The aliens guided them down the corridors and onto the bridge or flight deck or whatever they called it on GalaxyQuest. Peter couldn't remember. He'd never been a fan of the show. Command deck? That sounded right.

Seated in the commander's chair--right about where Kirk's would have been if this had been the bridge of the Enterprise--was another alien, as if seated on a throne. She had another guard on either side of her, meaner looking than their two escorts. She was even bigger than the nasty guys who had the ray guns, and definitely female if those massive boobs had anything to say about it. Just as ugly as her male counterparts, she had a ridge of feathers or spines rising up out of the top of her head in an array like a peacock's tail, and there were a lot more planes and angles in her face. When she saw them, she turned her beady little eyes on Nesmith, singling him out with a hatred so intense it was nearly visible.

Egon took a meter reading of her.

Even though she was glaring at Jason, she saw it and made a curt gesture. One of the aliens knocked it from Egon's hand with a blow so hard it sent Egon reeling backward. He gasped and went down hard clutching at his hand. The meter shattered, and Peter, Ray, and Winston yelled, "Egon!" and tried to go to him. Suddenly all four ray guns were aimed at their guts.

"I'm not hurt." Egon pushed himself to his knees and stayed there, shaking his head to clear it.

"Silence!" hollered the same guy who had given the command before.

"Think you're tough," muttered Peter under his breath. "You'll be sorry."

One of the aliens backhanded him the way he'd slapped Gwen before, and Peter rocked back on his heels. Ray and Tommy Webber caught him. Alexander Dane gave Egon a hand up. Okay, time to see what was up. Peter shook his head to clear it and nodded to let his buddies know he was okay, but his eyes were busy checking out Egon. The physicist stood, cradling his left wrist, but he flexed his fingers cautiously without obvious pain.

The 'babe' on the command seat spoke, and her voice was as deep as the males' but with a slightly higher edge to it. "Which is Taggart?" she demanded, although she must already know, the way she glared at Nesmith.

One of the aliens grabbed Jason and forced him to his knees in front of her. She nodded as if that was what she had expected.

With a taloned hand, she forced up the actor's chin. Blood trickled in a thin stream from the point where one of the talons dug into his flesh, but Nesmith refused to allow pain to show in his eyes. He met her gaze head-on, and Peter had to respect the guy.

"I am Hath-Sarris, the 'wife' of Sarris. You killed my mate," she said in the most ominous voice Peter had heard this side of the demon Tolay. "For that, you will die in extreme agony. I am told you witnessed the torture of this pitiful Thermian." She gestured with her other hand at Mathasar, who flinched with memory.

"I saw your 'mate' taking advantage of someone because he could. There's nothing to respect in that." Jason didn't give an inch of ground.

"Jason..." Alexander muttered warningly under his breath. "Don't antagonize her."

"Why not?" Nesmith countered. "I've already antagonized her. What more harm can I do?" He knelt there, grimly determined. "Never give up. Never surrender." It was a line from the show, one that Peter had always thought hokey. It didn't sound hokey now. None of Jason's fellow cast members took it that way, and Ray looked thrilled. Winston's spine straightened up and even Egon, who didn't tend to get emotional over such moments, let go of his wrist and stood tall.

"Such talk is cheap," snarled Hath-Sarris. "It will not matter as you die, slowly, and in pain. We will not kill you first, Peter Quincy Taggart. We have heard of the intrepid commander of the NSEA Protector. Now we shall see how intrepid he is as he watches his crew, these other humans, and his Thermian lap dogs die before him. I have instructed my crew to prepare tear harnesses for them all."

"You can't." Jason surged to his feet and went for her. "I killed your husband. Me. Alone. None of these others did it. If you need a life, you take mine, not theirs."

"Jason, no!" cried Gwen.

"That's what she wants you to say," Alexander urged. "Don't buy into it, Jason."

"And then what? Let her kill all of you first?"

"You have faced far greater threats than this," Mathasar spoke in the tones of someone who had never outgrown hero worship. "We have seen it."

Peter opened his mouth to jump in, point out that there were better options than dying--after all, dying was last on his list of what he'd planned to do when he got up this morning. Egon nudged him with his elbow.

But he couldn't hold out. "Hey, uh, Mrs. Sarris. What about us?"

"You are here. You die, too," she said with sublime indifference.

"Hey, no fair. Come on, tell us what's going down here. You snatched this ship, right? Here you are with your army, hot for revenge."

"I do not need an army to defeat these pitiful Thermians," sneered Hath-Sarris. "Nor do I require one for you few humans."

"Course not," Peter replied. "Not for somebody as powerful as you. Just a few hand-picked bodyguards, right?"

She sneered at him. "Do you think me a fool?"

"Well, yeah," Peter replied. Keep her off guard.

"Venkman," Jason growled, but not in time to keep one of the guards from punching Peter in the stomach. He doubled over as the air rushed out of his lungs, and wrapped his arms around himself, moaning. Okay, so that wasn't very smart. But at least he'd tried. God, that hurt. He cast her a baleful glance and imagined how it would feel to zap her and her cronies at full streams.

"Peter!" cried Ray. Egon, close enough to react, knelt at Peter's side to check him out, and Tommy, on his other side, bent down. They helped him to his feet and Egon supported him until he could straighten up and breathe without wheezing.

"That was a very stupid thing to say," Egon said sternly in his ear, but the severity of Egon's tone didn't mask his concern.

"He's right, isn't he?" Jason persisted. "You're here on a power trip. You figured you could do it so you showed up here with your hand-picked commandos. Talk's cheap, as you said. Let us take him to the medical quarters."

"I'm okay," panted Peter hastily, although he wasn't entirely sure he was. The last thing he wanted was to separate the team.

Nesmith caught his eye and shot him a warning as pointed as Egon's remark. He had a plan. Peter didn't know whether to be glad or worried.

Jason turned back to Hath-Sarris. "If you want to torture us, wouldn't it be better for us to be in top shape first? It's easy to torture someone already hurt, and not nearly as satisfying as working on someone who was strong to begin with."

The female lizard perked up at that. "There is much in what you say, although you say it not to appeal to me but to protect your crew. Very well. Take the mouthy one and the one with the peculiar topknot to the medical quarters. When they are treated bring them back here."

Egon's disgruntlement at her description of his hairstyle would have been laughable under better circumstances--and most circumstances were better than this one.

Winston and Ray clued in to the fact that Hath-Sarris meant to separate them, and they started protesting. The alien queen studied them, and then she held up a hand. "They remain," she said coldly. "But we will divide to conquer. You, and you. And you." She pointed to Fred and Alexander, and as a last resort, Teb. "You will accompany them. We will divide both teams." Pretty sharp lady to have figured out who was with who--course the Ghostbusters' jumpsuits were a dead giveaway. Now if she didn't figure out that the proton packs and throwers were weapons.... Peter hoped like mad she'd never watched the 'historical documents'.

Nesmith caught Alexander's eye before they were taken away. They exchanged the same kind of visual signals Peter and Egon were doing with Ray and Winston. Warnings. Concern. The two actors had been reputed to dislike each other, at least Peter seemed to remember hearing that, but under the abrasive interaction, there was an element of warmth. Facing death together made a great bond. Peter knew. He lived it every day. Mathasar and Teb sent each other signals, too. For all Peter knew, the Thermians were telepathic. It would be handy if they were.

Guarded by two of the armed aliens, nearly half the party were escorted off the bridge. Peter snapped to alertness and checked out the halls. No trace of any other lizard guys, and no sign of captive Thermians. They were in the main barracks, wherever that was. Ray probably knew. He had the Protector blueprints back at the firehouse. Back on Earth. Peter shivered.

"Are you all right, Peter?" Egon asked in concern.

"Just taking it in, Spengs," Peter muttered. He glanced over at Alexander Dane. "Bet you went through it, too, the last time."

"I confess to some...disconcertment," Alexander admitted. He lowered his voice. "Teb. How many of them are there?"

"We have seen twenty-one, counting those on the command deck," the Thermian replied in an undertone. "There may be more."

"Silence!"

"Probably the only word he knows," Peter said under his breath.

The alien took a swing at him, and he ducked to evade it. "I said, silence!"

Egon sent a stern, warning glance at Peter, and he fell silent regretfully. He got a charge out of bugging the guys; but it wouldn't do any good to jump in too soon, especially when his gut hurt so much. So he let them usher him and the others into the medical quarters, where Teb went to work running futuristic gizmos over him. The lizard guys stood in the doorway with weapons at the ready and Teb didn't look like he was prepared to jump them.

Alexander and Fred, who hadn't been hurt, stood to one side, their eyes darting about the room. Were they looking for something they could use to take out the green, scaly guys? They had been on the show. They must have seen what these gizmos were supposed to do. And evidently did. How had that happened, after all? These historical documents, or TV episodes, hadn't possessed real, working high tech medical equipment, let alone a working NSEA Protector. So what had the Thermians done? Designed stuff to work the way it had on the show? They had to be pretty advanced to do that. So there must be something they could use to take out Old Lady Lizard Breath and her cohorts.

Teb pressed something small and roundish into Peter's hand as he operated the equipment that eased the dull ache in Peter's gut and made it easier to breathe. Funny, but he could feel the improvement, the accelerated healing. If he could get his hands on one of those gizmos, he could patent it and clean up. He curled his fingers loosely around the item. Ray or Winston would probably know what it was, but Peter didn't have a clue. Still, Teb ought to know. Egon, whose wrist was the focus of another alien device, took one of the little thingies in his good hand. Were they weapons? The equivalent of the Star Trek Feinbergers? Injectors filled with tranquilizer gas? Whatever they were, they were sure to be better than nothing. Of course Peter and the other Ghostbusters had their packs and throwers. Would they work on the lizard guys? They ought to, if Egon had gotten biorhythms from them. Hit a living being at full streams and you sent his atoms to the stars at the speed of light.

"How you doing, Egon?" he asked.

Spengler lifted his eyes. "This is fascinating, Peter. I can feel the improvement. I believe the blow broke a small bone in my hand, but I would be willing to swear that the bone has already knitted." He flexed his fingers carefully.

"Ray would say 'great'." Peter had to agree with him.

Peter saw Alexander scoop up another of the little devices and palm it. Fred, who looked too laid back--or drugged out--to be part of an escape plan, didn't seem to move at all, but then he caught Peter's eye and winked, and there was one of the things in each hand.

A communicator squawked in the possession of one of the lizards, and he spoke into it and listened. Peter was glad they hadn't jumped the two green dudes first. Would have given the whole show away.

As soon as the transmission ended, Teb nodded, and Alexander and Fred raised the little devices, aimed them at the two lizards, and pushed on the raised ends of them. Peter and Egon copied the action.

The bad guys collapsed to the deck. Just like that, limp as dishcloths. Egon's eyebrows shot upward.

"How do you like that?" Fred said lazily with a grin. "They just fell down."

Teb messed with one of the devices and pushed the button again. The two aliens vanished without a trace. The Thermian gave a faint, excited chuckle.

"How did you do that?" demanded Egon and Alexander in perfect chorus.

"Directed sonic vibration," Teb explained. "The medical tranquilizers were once modified to disintegrate hostile aliens, the Amarna Pod People."

"In Episode 36," Fred said knowingly.

Ray would have known that. He probably had all kinds of great ideas. Sometimes Peter thought he knew the various sci fi shows he watched better than the various casts and crews did. 'Course it wasn't every day that the props turned out to be real.

Teb spoke to Peter and Egon. "You have your particle throwers? You can use them to free our people?"

"You bet," Peter agreed. "It's what we do best."

"We'll do that next," Alexander decided. "Teb. Can your people use your image generators to simulate the appearance of Sarris's people?"

"Image generators?" Peter echoed uneasily. "What the heck are those?"

"This is not our normal appearance," Teb admitted. "We chose this form to operate the ship, since it was designed for your kind. It is easier to operate the controls when we hold human form."

The tentacles Laliari had produced suddenly made sense. What were these guys, anyway? Intergalactic octopuses? Octopi? Peter decided he didn't want to know.

Egon was fascinated. "If only I had another meter. I'd love to take comprehensive readings. I only got a fleeting glimpse of your readings when I tested the alien. Laliari is one of your people?"

Teb inclined his head in agreement. "I can adjust my form to simulate the enemy. What is your plan?" Peter was starting to get used to the sound of the guy's weirdly intoned English.

He knew what Alexander had in mind. Funny how easy it was to believe it could happen. "You take one of their guns and march us down to the, wherever it was, main barracks. Then you switch forms. We'll let your buddies out and then we can take the ship."

Jason watched Alexander, Fred, Teb, and two of the Ghostbusters escorted from the Command Deck and held his temper with an effort. He didn't like having the teams split up, but he figured he could count on them to do something to free themselves. Alexander had come out of the last experience in space tempered by their adventures. He had risen above the embittered former Shakespearean actor living on past glory and enduring his alien persona, and discovered that he could be a hero. Fred might be utterly laconic and laid-back, but it had been his idea to sic the rock monster on the bad guys last time. Teb knew the ship inside out, and Venkman and Spengler were used to facing worse things than Sarris's buddies every day of the week. Funny, but Jason had somehow come around to believing in the Ghostbusters' job without even realizing it. They'd stage their own get-away. That's what Alexander's last look had promised. That meant he had to stage his own.

He studied his team. Mathasar could handle it. He'd risen to the occasion last time. Tommy would follow Jason's lead, and Gwen had helped him with the reactor shutdown last time. Guy would do what needed doing even if he complained and angsted about it, and for all Alexander's disparaging remarks about the Ghostbusters, Jason knew they would come through, too. Laliari probably had some alien trick up her sleeve along with her tentacles.

Jason sought out Ray with his eyes and tried to look a question about their weapons. Would they work on Hath-Sarris and her minions?

Ray grinned eagerly. God, he was gung-ho. Reminded Jason of the young ensign in Episode 49, who had been so thrilled to be assigned to the Protector that he'd taken crazy risks and wound up going out in a blaze of glory. That had been fiction, of course, but Taggart's part had been written to be broken up about the guy's demise. Jason had a feeling he could react just like Taggart had if he lost any of his makeshift team. He knew his own fellow cast members, knew what they could rise above. These two guys and their buddies in the medical quarters were untested, at least by him. But they'd been tested in their own crucible. They could handle it. God, he hoped they could handle it.

The alternative was death by torture and that was something Jason didn't even want to think about. Bad enough they'd done it to Mathasar last time, poor, trusting Mathasar who had believed Jason was a hero. Telling the Thermian that he was nothing of the sort, just an actor who had 'lied', had been one of the hardest things Jason Nesmith had ever done. Funny that he'd turned out to be a hero after all. Maybe heroes weren't invented, they were created, forced to act when there was nothing else left to do.

Hath-Sarris still had her hand on Jason's chin, her talon digging unpleasantly into his flesh. He could feel a thin trickle of blood but it wasn't a deep cut. Still, it was enough to make Gwen's eyes burn. She looked like she wanted to jump the alien female and pound her senseless.

Okay, what did they do now? They couldn't use the Omega 13 device; it only gave them thirteen seconds' time reversal, and that wouldn't do them any good now. He'd hold that in reserve in case they needed it.

What about the Ghostbusters' weapons? Could they zap the alien lizards with them? Aliens weren't ghosts, after all. But they had to do something. The other party might find all they needed in the medical quarters to get away from their two guards unless those two had picked up more on the way. How many of them were there? They hadn't seen many in the corridors on the way here, but that didn't mean much. There were probably some in the Generator Room, guarding the beryllium sphere, and there had to be some at the main barracks, guarding Mathasar's crew. Where else? The digital conveyer room? The nuclear reactor?

"It is time to begin the torture," Hath-Sarris remarked complacently. "We will start with the female."

"No!" Jason lunged up at Hath-Sarris. He wouldn't let her have Gwen. But one of the aliens zapped him with the same type of pain-inflicting device that they'd used on him last time. Pain flooded his body in jagged, twisting bursts, and he collapsed limply to the deck. Gwen cried out in alarm, and Tommy snarled something short and savage under his breath. Mathasar braced himself to act. Laliari caught hold of Gwen's arm.

"Stop it," yelled Ray Stantz and lunged into the fray, ready to fight. He didn't even know Jason, but he was evidently that kind of man. Zeddemore grabbed his arm and stopped him just in time to prevent him getting a dose of the pain device.

The other aliens grabbed Gwen, who struggled fiercely in his grip. Ray started to go to her, and this time Winston let him. They and Laliari yanked her away from the alien, just in time for the other guard to zap the two Ghostbusters. They landed on the deck beside Jason, and Gwen said something extremely profane and stomped down hard on the foot of the alien who held her. From floor level, Jason saw her get a good stomp in. Too bad the costume/uniforms didn't come with high heels for the women, the way they had on Star Trek. It worked anyway. The alien gave a soprano scream that went badly with his hulking bulk and let go, hopping around comically on his other foot. Maybe their feet were their most sensitive area. The alien with the gizmo slapped Gwen hard, and she came up swinging and actually got a punch in before Mathasar and Tommy yanked her out of range.

This was not going well.

Hath-Sarris picked up a vox and spoke into it in her own language. Mathasar cocked his head to listen, but didn't look alarmed, and when she'd finished and lowered the device, he said before he could be interrupted, "The others have reached the medical quarters."

Ray shook his head to clear it and winced at the process. "What a zap," he muttered. His hand inched toward his thrower.

"Not till we know about Pete and Egon," Winston warned him. Jason knew why he hesitated. If they gave away too soon that they were armed, they'd be stripped of the weapons and the Sarris guys would probably want to try the particle throwers out on their prisoners. Jason had a good idea the Ghostbuster weapons wouldn't do living humans any good.

Hath-Sarris clapped her hands together in a parody of applause. "Very gratifying. You have now proven concern for each other. It will make it so much more entertaining when you watch each other suffer."

"You're not going to make anybody suffer," Jason gritted out, fully into his Taggart persona. The scary thing was, it was starting to get easier. It didn't matter that there was no audience; it didn't even matter if the fans never found out about it. He owed it to his crew, to the Thermians, even to the Ghostbusters, who were here by mistake.

His crew? Out here, they were his crew. He wasn't just a guy who put on a costume to play a space hero. He had accepted the responsibility when he'd gone along with Mathasar in the first place, because he'd been the one to kill Sarris. Okay, Commander Taggart, he asked himself, what happens next? There is no way they're gonna torture Gwen the way they tortured Mathasar last time. They're not going to torture anybody, if I have anything to say about it.

Winston, very close to him on the floor, whispered, "Can any of the other lizards see us? Are there monitors here?"

Mathasar heard and shook his head. He knelt in a pretext of helping Jason to his feet, and spoke quickly. "We have not yet completed the scan tracer connections. Speakers are active, but not visual scanning."

"So they might be listening."

Ray shook his head hastily. "I don't think so. Not if they needed to use a vox to communicate with the medical quarters."

Hath-Sarris did not like that. "Silence! I will not have you plotting, although such action is futile."

They staggered to their feet, still recovering from the effects of the pain-inducer. They had to act fast and get together with the others. No handy rock monsters for Fred to fetch with the digital conveyer this time around.

Jason glanced at the main screen. No evidence of another ship. Earth was visible, though, hanging below them just like a shot from the space shuttle. They were still in orbit. He was willing to bet the lizards had come through the black hole in the Protector II rather than risking their own ship. It didn't mean they wouldn't have a fleet waiting for the Thermians when they returned to their home galaxy, but, if they were lucky, it meant Hath-Sarris couldn't call up back-up on this side of the singularity. Jason needed to talk to Mathasar in the worst way.

Mathasar proved he was alert and thinking. His eyes shifted to the monitoring equipment where Guy had noticed that Sarris was firing at them last time. If he craned his neck, Jason could see that no 'red thingies' were moving toward the 'green thingy' that represented the Protector II. They weren't under fire, but no other ship was visible on the monitor. That took care of that particular problem. Unless they could be detected from Earth and the major powers were at that moment turning the Star Wars defenses upon them.

All they had to do was overthrow an unknown number of the enemy, take the ship back and figure out how to get the Thermians home safely--after first depositing his crew and the Ghostbusters back at the con before any missiles arrived from orbiting stations or from the ground. They could pass the whole thing off as a publicity stunt for the new series....

Jason shoved that thought out of his mind and made eye contact with his team. They outnumbered Hath-Sarris and her two guards, and last time the lizard guys hadn't proven themselves to be conspicuous for their intelligence. Sarris himself had been a crafty old lizard, but his followers were so obviously yes-men who didn't know how to think for themselves that it should be easy, if only they could take out Sarris's mate. She looked crafty, too, if no candidate for Mensa.

Okay, take her out, take out her two bodyguards, and then it would just be clean-up.

He hoped.

It was down to the fact that only two of their party were armed. Jason had done all those episodes of GalaxyQuest. There ought to be something here on the command deck that he could use, at least as a distraction to give Ray and Winston time to draw their weapons without calling down enemy fire. He cast his mind back and shuffled through the episodes.

What about Episode 20, when the Protector had been boarded by the Cremorians? Ready to loose the dreaded fangor beasts on the crew, they had fallen prey to one of the oldest tricks in the book. If Mathasar and the Thermian scientists who had replicated the ship had paid attention to the historical documents--and it was pretty apparent they had memorized every episode--then Jason had a chance.

"Take them to the torture now," Hath-Sarris said complacently. "The female first." She rose to her full height. In their culture, females must be the larger of the two genders because she was a full head taller than Sarris had been.

"Wait a minute, there's something behind you," Jason said in mock alarm. He had to get the phrasing just right. Taggart and Lazarus had planned it out in advance in the event of a take-over of the Command Deck, right down to the exact words to be spoken. "Look out, it's going to jump you."

Tommy and Gwen stiffened in preparation. Guy didn't have all the episodes memorized, but he knew, too. From the way their eyes lit up, so did Ray and Winston. The guys just had to be fans.

Mathasar caught Jason's eye and nodded.

Hath-Sarris sneered. "You might fool these pitiful Thermians with such a trick, but my people are far keener. We do not submit to deceptions."

Perfect. She was reacting just as he'd hoped. He produced his best shit-eating grin and administered the coup de grace. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he completed the ritual.

The code words worked. With a sudden roar, a huge, vicious snark cat from the third moon of Arctinus burst into being. Pretty decent work. You couldn't immediately tell it was a hologram. It looked completely solid, right down to the saliva dripping from its four-inch fangs.

Ray Stantz grinned like an idiot; then, when Winston elbowed him in the ribs, he pretended horror and cried, "Look out!"

At the roar, the bodyguards whirled, then staggered in shock at the sight of the eight-foot beast. They fired at it, but the hologram had been programmed to react as if it repelled enemy laser fire. Jason hoped they had enough time to act that the bodyguards wouldn't notice that their blasts passed right through it and took out a section of bulkhead behind it.

Ray and Winston took advantage of the distraction they'd both expected to yank out their Ghostbuster weapons. Hath-Sarris, who had jumped a good six feet away from the holographic snark cat, saw them and reached into her voluminous robes for a weapon, but the two Ghostbusters had their throwers powered up and adjusted by then, and they fired as if they'd programmed it, Ray at Hath-Sarris and Winston at the bodyguards. Jagged ropes of energy lashed out at the aliens, who hadn't expected it, and they yelled and tried to duck involuntarily.

As the particle energy struck her, Sarris' mate jerked, twitched, and went down in a heap. She didn't move. The first bodyguard fell, still spasming, beside her. The second one dodged sideways and managed a quick blast that made Winston fling himself flat on his stomach to avoid being zapped before Ray swung around and fired. The second bodyguard dropped like a stone.

"Winston!" yelled Ray.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." Zeddemore bounced to his feet.

The snark cat roared viciously. Gwen spoke into the silence following the savage growl. "Computer. Deactivate hologram."

The snark cat vanished without a trace.

"Go for it," Jason told her as Ray dusted Winston off and checked him for any wounds he might have overlooked.

Gwen slipped into her Tawny Madison persona without effort. "Computer. How many hostile aliens are present on the ship?"

"Twenty-six," reported the computer.

"There are twenty-six of them, Jason," she reported, then she caught herself. "There I go, repeating the damn computer again."

"Yeah, but you were always good at it," Winston told her with a grin.

"Where are the rest of our party?" she asked the computer.

"Doctor Lazarus and Tech Sergeant Chen are moving toward the main barracks with Requisition Officer Teb and two unidentified humans."

Gwen persisted. "Computer. Are they under hostile guard?"

"Negative. Hostile guard were deactivated with directed sonic vibrations from the medical tranquilizers."

Gwen started to repeat the words, then she caught herself before she could finish, raising her hands in apology.

"Okay, people." Jason tugged at his uniform tunic to straighten it. "Somebody check out these bodies. Are they dead?"

"No," said Ray. "Well, I don't think they are. We reset the throwers to emit low-level bursts. They disrupt a person's system and cause unconsciousness, but they don't kill. We were in space before and we didn't want to accidentally punch a hole in the hull."

Guy shifted uneasily and rolled his eyes to scan the command deck for gapping breaches. "Yeah, that would be bad."

It was left to Tommy and Mathasar to check the bodies. "They're alive," Tommy announced.

"This is good, Commander," agreed Mathasar. "We can use Hath-Sarris as a hostage. Lieutenant Madison, please have the computer secure them with techno-binding."

"Computer, secure the hostile aliens on the deck with techno-binding," Gwen ordered with a quick glance at Jason. How many little techy details were they forgetting that might work? They had a lot of episodes to choose from.

Electronic sensors came into play, detected the three aliens, and projected glowing coils of power. They wrapped around each of the prisoners and secured them.

"Way cool," breathed Ray. "There's so much you guys can do." He turned to Mathasar. "Did you incorporate the selective stun gas function when you were designing the ship?"

Mathasar clapped his hands together, seal-like, in the Thermian gesture of approval. "Of course. We can..." Then his face fell. "Alas, no, that is one of the many features of the historical documents that we have not yet had time to incorporate."

"So you mean we can't just gas the rest of the Sarris guys," Tommy said unhappily.

"All that means is that we'll have to take them out one by one." Once, that would have daunted Jason, but that was long ago, back when all he had to do was trail around the conventions, trying not to admit to himself that he was a has-been hack who couldn't find work.

"First thing we've got to do is pin-point their location, then we'll take 'em out, each group at a time."

"Peter and Egon and the others are going to let Mathasar's crew out," Ray reminded them. "It'll be easier than you think."

"This is harder than I thought it would be," complained Peter Venkman in a whisper as he and his intrepid band of spacemen drew back from a glance around the corner near the main barracks. The corridor outside the barracks was full of lizard aliens.

"How many of them are there?" Egon asked practically, his thrower in his hand.

"I counted sixteen," Fred admitted.

"Yes, sixteen," agreed Teb.

The aliens weren't all on guard. Some of them sat on the deck, playing some kind of game with stones or markers, while four of them paced the corridor, standing at alert. Peter and the others had ducked back so quickly that the aliens hadn't seen them, but they might decide to do a sweep at any moment.

Egon motioned them back the way they had come. Around a second bend in the corridor, they gathered for a quick conference.

Alexander, who had been so coolly, sardonically British all along, seemed to have undergone a metamorphosis at the sight of all those Sarris dudes. His mouth had tightened, his eyes had hardened, and he looked like he wanted to wade in and start kicking and punching like Chuck Norris. He must really have it in for them. "We can take them," he said.

"Whoa, hold up there, Rambo," Peter cautioned to restrain the gung-ho Brit.

"Yes, we need a plan." That was Egon. Usually it was Winston who held out for a plan. Egon had a knack for solving a problem in his mind as he raced toward it, and Ray just raced, eager to plunge into conflict. When Peter found himself in the forefront in a confrontation with a major demon, he wasn't out there trying to hog the glory but to make sure his buddies didn't get themselves zapped in their zeal. At least Egon was thinking this time.

'Course their foes weren't ghosts or demons this time around. They were honking big scaly guys with weapons of major destruction. Ghosts and demons weren't usually armed, although most demons could lob fire from their fingertips that served the same purpose.

"I have no way to take readings," Egon complained. "Fred. Alexander. Teb. Are there any devices on the ship that could be modified to serve as a P.K.E. meter?"

"We're not scientists and engineers," Alexander began and caught himself with an uncomfortable glance at Teb. Peter wondered if the Thermian really believed he was looking at Doctor Lazarus and Tech Sergeant Chen.

"That was a brilliant deception last time," Teb said complacently. So he did believe.

"What about the scanning lasers?" Fred said at last. He dug around in his mind. "In Episode 41, we needed to scan the ship for aliens who didn't have any physical form, and we were able to..." He paused and cast his mind back to recall the old line. "...modify the guidance matrix in the generator room and tie the hand-scanners into the output from the beryllium sphere to focus wavelengths of energy."

"We wouldn't need to perform a ship-wide scan," Teb volunteered. "We...adapted the function of the hand-scanners to perform such detection readings as portable devices."

"I would like to examine one." Egon's face was thoughtful. "Peter, you remember the risks involved in using our particle throwers in space. Should we damage an outer wall, we risk exposure to vacuum. I don't have the specs of this ship. Although Ray has a set of the blueprints back at headquarters, I have never studied them. I never believed I would need to do so."

"The outer hull is there," Teb explained, pointing to the wall at their backs. "If you were to fire your throwers directly toward the entrance of the main barracks, you would not hit an outer wall."

"Yeah, come on, Egon, we might take out a wall or two, but there ought to be a way to avoid letting the air out."

"There is," Egon replied. "If I could take comprehensive readings of an alien, I could coordinate a thrower setting to a wide-angle stun function that would not endanger the outer hull. With exact readings I could guarantee its success. We are seriously outnumbered and I would as soon not risk failure. There's only one chance."

Teb clapped his hands together and sucked in an excited breath. "To see the Ghostbusters at work is a privilege I never dreamed to have." He hadn't switched his image to resemble the lizards yet. Accustomed to his human form, he'd retained it until they were ready.

"I'll get the scanner," Fred volunteered.

Alexander shook his head. "No. They might have stationed troops in the generator room. We'll all go."

They migrated down the hall in a body, trying for stealth. Five guys aren't exactly stealthy, but the aliens in front of the main barracks had been making enough noise on their own that they didn't hear anything.

Peter had seen a few episodes of GalaxyQuest, although he'd never been a fan. He remembered the generator room, several decks high with the huge beryllium sphere held suspended in an energy field, providing power for the Protector. He'd thought it pretty cheesy looking, but somehow the real thing overrode what had once been cheap special effects. Maybe it was the thrum of power he could feel through the soles of his boots or simply the size of the place.

There was only one lizard lurking in the generator room, and his back was to them when they came in. He heard them and whirled, bringing up his gun, but Teb and Alexander dove for the guy and bore him to the deck so hard his head thumped and he lost all interest in the proceedings. Alexander hadn't struck Peter as the physical type until now, but there was a light of combat in his eyes. He stood up and muttered something under his breath that sounded like, "That's for Quelleg," before he collected himself and proceeded to look thoroughly embarrassed at his display.

Teb took it as natural. "By Grabthar's Hammer, Doctor Lazarus, that was well done." He turned. "Computer. Secure downed alien with techno-binding."

Egon's eyebrow arched up toward his hair as a field of energy came down and encased the unconscious lizard. "Fascinating."

"Wrong science officer, Spengs," Peter kidded. "Wrong show."

"Indeed?"

"Here you go, Egon." Fred passed him a gizmo that looked a lot like a curling iron projecting at cross-angles out of a cell phone. A series of buttons in the 'phone' part caused a mini-screen to light up.

Egon took it with delight and studied it while Teb stood at his side explaining the device's functions. Peter didn't pay attention. He knew it would be over his head, and there were other things that remarkably handsome Ghostbusters could do far better. He aimed his thrower around the room in hopes of spotting another alien so he could zap it.

"Uh, you can't fire in here," Fred told him. "If you damage the beryllium sphere, you could shut down all functions but life support." He was starting to get into his part. "When I get my kids back, we'll give you a tour. They're sharp."

"Your kids?" Peter asked.

"The generator room crew. Last time I was here, they had all the answers."

"Gotcha." It wasn't likely that Fred Kwan had ever studied engineering or astrophysics or any of those courses that might be handy when trying to run a space-ship based on a canceled TV show. He'd done the talk so long at so many cons he'd probably picked up a few things, but not enough to understand the theories behind them. Well, Peter didn't entirely understand the theories behind the workings of a particle thrower, but he knew how to blast spooks and specters with the best of them.

"This is excellent," Egon approved. He took a reading of the downed alien and then one of Teb, who smiled excitedly and stood tall for the process. "Ah. Yes. Thank you," Egon told him in absent-minded tones. "Peter, adjust your thrower to level seven, wide-angle beam."

"This isn't gonna take out the hull, is it, Egon?"

"No. This will render all future aliens we encounter unconscious. However, it will not do the same to a Thermian."

"What about humans?" Alexander questioned.

"Humans will be at risk. Thermian physiology is considerably different. Teb, when this is over, I hope you will allow me to take readings of you in your natural form."

"I would be honored." The Thermian beamed.

They trekked back to the main barracks in a body and stopped at the spot where they had conferred before. Egon aimed his curling iron down the corridor and brooded over the readings. "Sixteen," he confirmed. "I wonder how many are here altogether."

"I wonder if any of them are inside the barracks with the prisoners," Alexander offered.

"Well, if we can zap their buddies without them knowing, Teb can pretend to be one of them long enough for us to go in and find out." Peter clapped the Thermian on the shoulder.

"Ready, Peter?" Egon asked.

Peter checked the setting of his thrower, registered the power, and took a firm grip on the handle. Running out blasting sixteen honking big lizard guys was a little unusual, but he was a Ghostbuster, after all. "You make sure none of them get trigger happy, Spengs," Peter told his friend sternly.

"And you do the same."

They exchanged a quick look, then Peter nodded. They'd done this kind of thing--well, okay, so not exactly this kind of thing--before. Together they drew in breaths as if choreographed, then they raced around the corner. The second the aliens were in sight, they fired.

It was over in seconds. The aliens hadn't expected anybody to interrupt them. Secure as they were in the belief that all prisoners were contained, the last thing they expected was two strange humans firing unfamiliar energy weapons at them. They had time to register Peter and Egon's arrival and one of them who was quicker on his toes than the others got off a shot that whizzed between the two Ghostbusters without doing more than plucking the sleeve of Egon's jumpsuit, then the glowing energy field encased them and they tumbled over and made intimate acquaintance with the deck.

Teb fought down the urge to blurt out a cheer as he joined them, trailed closely by Fred and Alexander, enemy weapons in their hands.

"It actually worked," the Shakespearean actor blurted.

"Told you that you ought to believe in what we do," Peter said smugly. He glanced sideways at Egon to make sure only the fabric had been scorched. Egon was so busy taking readings that he probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd been hit, but he was intact.

Alexander shook his head. "But the premise is so unlikely."

"And this isn't?" Peter gestured at the sprawled bodies. His point made, he grinned at the actor and nudged one of the lizards with his toe. "Look at 'em. They're no fun. They fell right over."

"That was the object of the exercise, Peter," Egon reminded him. "Fred, if you would see them bound...."

Peter knew Egon had figured out how to call down those energy bindings after the first time. But he had bigger fish to fry. Adjusting his curling iron phone, he aimed it at the door to the main barracks, his mouth pursed up as he studied the readings.

"Well, Spengs?" Peter rested his thrower against his shoulder the way a soldier would lean his rifle when standing at attention, and draped his other arm around Egon's shoulders over his proton pack. "We got any more nasties in there?"

"No, Peter. Only Thermians."

"Aw," Peter said in a deliberate whine. "I wanted to see Teb shapeshift."

"There will be time for that later," Egon told him and gestured for someone to open the door.

Alexander did it, stepping into the main barracks. At once what seemed like hundreds of Thermians leaped to their feet from endless rows of beds that stretched off into the distance. The ship had to be a heck of a lot bigger than Peter had believed it was."

The crew started cheering, and Alexander preened himself--until one of the Thermians cried, "Commander Taggart has saved us again."

Alexander's shoulders sagged, and he muttered under his breath, "I don't know why I try."

"Fill them in, Teb," urged Peter. "We need to find out how many more of the bad guys are still running around. We don't want anybody getting shot in the process."

Alexander came to immediate attention, putting aside his discomfiture. He snatched them away from the doorway and looked out past them for sign of the lizards. "Nobody gets shot," he insisted.

Peter leaned in close to Teb. "What's all that about?"

"Last time, Quelleg, one of my people, formed a bond with Doctor Lazarus. He was killed by one of Sarris's people."

That explained a lot. Peter nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Teb, we need you. How can we find out how many of the bad guys are left? And while we think of that, we better drag the ones in the corridor in here where they won't be seen."

Egon heard him and introduced himself to the Thermians, who regarded him with the awe usually directed at sports greats and rock stars. If they were the type, they'd have asked for autographs. Startled, Egon couldn't help smiling. Peter would have to get on his case for that later.

Before he could jump in and introduce himself so he could grab a little of the acclaim, Egon instructed the Thermians to hide the bodies. They went to work immediately, but Peter could tell from the admiring glances cast in his direction as the little guys went about their business that he'd been recognized, too. He was famous in outer space! He loved it.

Teb tugged at Peter's sleeve for attention, distracting him from fame and glory. "Doctor Venkman. There were twenty-six in the boarding party. They took the ship and brought it through the black hole to Earth. Their own vessel is waiting on the other side of the black hole."

"That's gonna make it tough for you to go home, isn't it?"

"We will have Hath-Sarris as a hostage. They will not risk harming her."

"You're sure of that?" Alexander asked.

Teb hesitated. "None would have dared to harm Sarris. He was very powerful."

"What about old wifey up there on the bridge--uh, command deck?"

"She will hold much power in his name, if she is the heir to his power."

"Then she may work as an ideal hostage to allow you to return to your home planet," Egon assured him.

"We have no home planet," Teb said soberly. "After the attacks by Sarris, we are all that are left."

"Ah," said Egon, for once at a loss for words.

Peter couldn't even begin to imagine the scope of such a tragedy. He found himself wishing they'd disintegrated the bad guys instead of just stunning them. Here he'd thought Teb and Mathasar were a couple of quaint aliens, maybe sharp on the science stuff, but halfway to being comic relief. Now he realized they'd lost everything.

"We learned that last time," Alexander said softly.

"Tough," muttered Peter. There weren't any words for something so comprehensive. He hoped they could get rid of these Sarris dudes once and for all. "Want me to go blast 'em?" he offered to Teb.

"No, for they shall serve us well as hostages. Finally we can make a treaty that will hold. And we have begun to make...allies, out there, beyond the black hole."

"That's good," Fred said. "Jason will be glad to hear it."

"We better try to get to the command deck and rescue him and the others," Alexander suggested, and Peter took a better grip on his thrower and followed Egon and the others out past the Thermians who were moving the bodies into the main barracks to conceal them. He couldn't help noticing that sixteen of the Thermians now held alien weapons and looked ready to use them.

It was going to be their show all the way.

"Jason!" Gwen turned away from a low-voiced dialog with the computer. "Alexander and the others are at liberty. They have freed the Thermians."

"Great!" So that leaves how many of Sarris's buddies at liberty?"

Gwen questioned the computer again. "The others stopped one in the generator room and sixteen of them on guard outside the main barracks. Those plus the three we have here and the two taken in the medical quarters leaves four at liberty. Computer." She assumed her Tawny Madison voice. "Locate the four remaining members of the boarding party."

"That will not be necessary," intoned a new voice and Jason jerked his head up to see four of the lizards standing, two in either entrance to the command deck, weapons aimed at the party. Nobody was watching? Damn. He thought he'd learned that lesson down on the planet with the rock monster. Overconfidence could kill a guy. Worse, it could kill his whole crew.

Ray and Winston still held their particle throwers. If they fired fast....

Ray did, blasting away, and he got one of them before the others fired at him before Stantz could duck. He let out a pain-filled yelp and went down hard. Winston screamed his name and jumped after him. The aliens didn't shoot at him but, ignoring their downed comrade, they stood, weapons leveled, clearly ready to blast the next person that moved.

"Free Hath-Sarris," one of them, obviously the leader, instructed, and a second marched over and bent over the alien female. She was conscious and glaring, restrained by the energy field that contained her. Her lips moved in a fierce attempt to speak but the field blocked any sound from getting through. Probably just as well. Jason didn't need to learn any alien profanity. There was enough profanity in his own language going through his head, aimed at himself for his carelessness.

"Aw, come on, Ray, don't do this," groaned Winston.

"Is it bad?" Jason heard himself ask. God, he didn't want to lose anybody.

"Got him through the shoulder, right next to the strap of his pack," Winston muttered. "He's losing blood."

Jason whirled to confront the squad leader. "Let us take him to the medical quarters."

"It is no concern to us if he dies. You do not belong in this conflict, but you are all about to die. You are the one who killed our lord Sarris. You will die slowly." He cast a yellow-eyed, baleful stare at the lieutenant who bent over Hath-Sarris. "What are you waiting for? Free her."

"Commander, I cannot. I do not understand this technology."

Under cover of the discussion, Gwen and Mathasar knelt beside Ray to help Winston treat his wound while Laliari stood over them. Mathasar produced a small circular device from the pocket of his uniform--that was one-up on the uniforms Jason and the cast had worn when they were filming the original series. No pockets in their costumes.

"Place it over the wound," Mathasar directed.

"I don't recognize it," Gwen murmured.

"It is the technology of our homeworld. After our last encounter with Sarris, we designed them to function at the size of the medical tranquilizers so they could be carried on missions." He flipped a small switch on the device and it began to hum. Winston settled it on Ray's wound.

The aliens didn't bother them. They were too busy fussing over Hath-Sarris, who cast fulminating glares at her hapless henchmen. Only the commander watched the prisoners, and Jason could tell that if any of them did anything that ticked him off, they'd be down like Ray.

Stantz was conscious, his face twisted with pain, his good hand clutching Winston's arm hard enough to leave major bruises. Conscious of Tommy and Guy at his side, gazing down at the injured man, Jason felt a battle fury flow through him that Peter Quincy Taggart would have recognized in a heartbeat.

"Never give up, never surrender," he muttered under his breath.

Tommy and Guy exchanged glances. "Here we go again," said Webber. Laliari took her position, ready to act.

The commander reached his tolerance limit. He stalked over and yanked Gwen to her feet. "Free Hath-Sarris or the female dies," he commanded.

Jason acted on sheer instinct. With no thought for his own safety, he threw himself at the commander, tackled the guy around the waist, and bore him to the deck before he could fire. The other two aliens yelled and swung away from the futile attempt to rescue their leader and brought up their weapons to fire, but before they could do it, Guy and Tommy jumped one of them and Winston yanked up his thrower and zapped the other. Laliari produced a handy set of tentacles and wrapped them around the one Jason wrestled with, restraining him neatly.

A second later, Alexander, Fred, the two missing Ghostbusters, Teb, and a whole squadron of armed Thermians burst onto the command deck.

Alexander charged over to Jason's aid, the Thermians grabbed the alien Tommy and Guy restrained, and Peter Venkman yelled, "RAY!" at the top of his lungs, echoed instantly by Egon. The two Ghostbusters raced over to join their downed comrade and thudded down beside him so hard their knees would be sore for days. Fred went at once to Laliari, who freed the alien commander and wrapped her tentacles--much more affectionately--around Fred instead. Thermians leveled weapons at the commander, who didn't risk moving.

"Winston? What happened?" Egon insisted, his voice full of alarm.

"I'm okay, guys." Ray's voice was breathless and full of pain, but he already looked better than he had when he'd first been shot. Jason let Alexander haul him to his feet, then the two of them helped Gwen to stand.

"You hurt?" Jason put his arm around her shoulders.

She snuggled into his embrace. "I'm fine."

While the Thermians, under Mathasar's direction, secured the rest of the prisoners, the humans gathered around the injured man.

"You're not okay, Ray," Peter said with a sternness that didn't mask his concern. All that ego he projected--takes one to know one, Jason thought wryly--vanished when his friends needed him. "You're bleeding all over the place."

"I got the other one before I got hit," Ray said with a grin. "Besides, Mathasar has this nifty little gizmo." He let go of Winston's arm, and Zeddemore flexed his fingers, probably to restore circulation. "It's healing me--just like that. I can feel it."

Peter dropped a hand on Ray's sound shoulder. "You sure about that, Tex?" He squinted suspiciously at the device.

Ray's head bobbed energetically. Color returned to his face as they watched. "Positive. It's okay, Peter. I'm gonna be fine. What about you? Are you and Egon okay? Did you get all the other bad guys?"

"Zapped 'em all," Peter confirmed.

Mathasar's device emitted a shrill beeping sound, and the Thermian reached out and switched it off. He lifted it away, and Egon, Peter, and Winston instantly pulled the fabric of Ray's jumpsuit away from the wound--

Or the place where the wound had been. All that remained was a faint, reddened scar. "It will continue to heal normally," Mathasar explained. "Doctor Stantz, use your arm carefully for the next day. Then you will be fine."

"And that means getting him out of his pack," Peter instructed. He and Winston helped Ray remove it, an action that didn't appear to hurt. The minute it was off, Ray sat up, moving his fingers carefully.

"I'm fine," he said.

Peter gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You better be. Taking crazy risks like that...."

"Well, gee, it's not like you never take any," Ray reminded him.

Egon clapped Ray on the arm and rose. He and the other Ghostbusters helped Ray to his feet.

Alexander turned to Nesmith. "Jason. What next?"

Everybody turned to stare at him. Suddenly he really was the commander. There were times, usually when he managed to forget all the moments of danger, when the thought that merely acting the part of Commander Taggart on the new series when he'd played it for real seemed just a little...tame. But then he remembered the danger to Gwen and to his friends, and suddenly being an actor seemed the most reliable profession going.

"We have to go back to the con," he said. "Everybody saw us vanish, so we have to pretend it was a publicity stunt for the new series."

"The fans'll never believe that," Guy put in. "They'll know it was like last time."

"The fans are on our side," Tommy reminded them. "And nobody else will believe it for a second. They didn't last time."

"So, how do we get back?" Peter asked as he steadied Ray, who didn't really seem to need it. Ray grinned at him and nodded reassuringly.

"There's always the digital conveyer," Laliari put in. "Fred handles it so well." She flashed a glowing smile at her lover.

Fred shuddered. "Then who will send me down?" he asked.

Teb raised his hand like an eager student. "I will. I have seen the master at work and I understand the device now. I have practiced."

It took a lot to disturb Fred, but that made all the color leave his face. "I don't want to be turned inside out. I still remember that thing last time...." He shuddered.

Mathasar clapped Fred on the shoulder. "Do not fear, Tech Sergeant Chen. Teb is quite skilled."

"It'll be okay," Guy reassured him. "It worked on Jason last time, didn't it?"

Fred threw him a reproachful glance.

Jason left him to it and turned to the Thermian leader. "Mathasar, we have to get back. We left pretty abruptly. People are gonna be missing us. What about you? Will you and your people be okay?"

"We shall do well," Mathasar declared. He had gained a lot of stature since last time.

"We have a fine leader," Teb declared, and the Thermians voiced their approval. It sounded a lot like barking seals and made the Ghostbusters stare at them in momentary disbelief. Mathasar swelled with pride.

"You don't have to go back, you know," Jason told them. "We could find a place for you on Earth."

The Thermian appeared to consider it, then he shook his head in very human denial. "No. We have a place, if not a world, and there are others of us at the Star Port who service our ship. We would not abandon them. Besides, Sarris's people have broken the treaty. We must deal with them." He held his head high. "With the example of your brave crew and the Ghostbusters to guide us, we shall succeed."

This time the cheers were for the cast of GalaxyQuest and the four Ghostbusters.

Jason preened himself a little. He couldn't help it. Too much ego in his make-up. Only the sight of Venkman doing the same while his buddies ragged him for it made Jason call himself to order.

"Okay, crew," he announced. "Time to go back to Earth."

Peter Venkman heaved a sigh of relief when the autograph line materialized in front of him and he found himself--and his teammates--in one piece. Fred had regaled their trip to the digital conveyer with the tale of a pig-lizard that had been digitized and rematerialized inside out--just before it exploded. That was not what Peter wanted for the gorgeous Venkman physique. He knew he didn't want to remember the sensation of being digitized. There were a lot of things in life more fun. Like fighting with the IRS, or being slimed. His only regret was that there hadn't been time to see Teb and the others in their natural form.

Their abrupt arrival in the autograph line created a wild sensation. Babylon 5's Captain Sheridan, Bruce Boxleitner, nearly fell off his chair in the middle of signing a photo, and six GalaxyQuest fans actually fainted.

Then everybody realized what had happened and there came a ragged cheer. Peter threw his clasped hands above his head like a triumphant Rocky, and reveled in the sensation. Too bad Nesmith was hamming it up so much.

Ten seconds later, Janine Melnitz went by like a miniature hurricane and flung herself into Egon's arms. Startled, the physicist barely caught his balance as he received the team's secretary. He nearly dropped what he'd been holding--uh-oh, looked like he'd sneaked away with his curling iron/cell phone thingamajig. Peter hoped Mathasar wouldn't get too upset when he realized what he was missing.

When had Janine arrived on the scene? Heck, why wouldn't she? They'd been gone long enough for the word of their disappearance to spread.

Janine gazed soulfully into Egon's eyes. "Oh, Egon, I heard you were kidnapped by aliens."

"Yeah," Peter called into the dead silence that followed her cry. "Where's Fox Mulder when you need him?" Too bad Duchovny wasn't a guest at the con. That would have put the cap on the whole experience.

Uniformed policemen and a couple of guys in suits who didn't look like fans and were probably plainclothes officers bore down on them. So did a ton of fans, some of them in GalaxyQuest tee shirts, some of them in Ghostbuster ones. Even the Babylon 5 and Buffy fans crowded closer. Peter eyed them warily, uncertain of whether the cops or the fans posed the greater threat.

"Publicity stunt, everybody," Jason Nesmith said firmly under his breath to his crew.

"Man, you got it," Winston confirmed two seconds before the deluge struck.

Peter wasn't sure that Hath-Sarris might not have been safer.

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