Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Voyager crew. The Minatians, however, belong to me.

Rating: PG, sure.

JetC factor: About a 5; it's not too bad.

Dedication (which I forgot last time): To Alan, for always telling me that I can write.

Resurrection
Chapter 3

"Captain?"

Janeway looked up from her PADD. "Yes, Mr. Paris?" Bridge shifts seemed to be getting longer
while the Voyager crew waited for a reply from the Minatian council.

"The Minatians are back," Tom answered.

Harry's voice came over the intercom. "A whole lot of them."

That definitely did not sound good. Janeway left her ready room and walked to the Bridge. "On
screen."

At least ten Minatian cruisers were floating in front of Voyager. They were bigger than the ones
that had first appeared before them. The ships were blocky, almost like Borg cubes, but the corners appeared to have been sawed off. Long, thin tubes protruded from all directions, like cannons on a pirate ship.

Chakotay came to stand behind her, not overshadowing her authority, just making his presence
known. "I don't think they've come to escort us through the sector," he said softly, trying to be humorous.

"Unfortunately, I think you're right," she whispered, and then raised her voice so Harry could hear.

"Hail them."

"They're responding," he said. "Audio only."

"Open the channel." Harry nodded. "Minatian ships, I am Captain…"

"We know who you are," a voice said gruffly. "We are seizing your ship."

Janeway couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"

The voice was clearly not pleased with the delay. "The Borg technology."

"I assure you, we do not use it for weapons," Janeway said, eyes darting towards Chakotay. The
commander sat down in his chair, pressing buttons on the center console. "They're raising shields," he said, barely audible.

"We are seizing your ship. Prepare to be boarded." Janeway heard the soft click of the
communication channel being severed.

"Raise shields!" Janeway ordered. "Ready phasers."

"Phasers ready, Captain," Tuvok said from behind her at the tactical station.

The Minatian ships all fired simultaneously, concentrating on where the two sections of the ship met.

A volley of enemy fire rocked Voyager, forcing the captain and first officer to grab the arm rests or they would have been thrown from their seats.

"Shields down to thirty percent, Captain. Hull breeches in progress on Decks 12 through 15," Tuvok said with an eerie calmness.

"How the hell did they do that?" Tom asked from con, staring at the reports as they scrolled up his console.

"Captain, forty Minatian soldiers have beamed into cargo bay two," Harry blurted out, startling the Bridge crew.

"Security to cargo bay two," Tuvok broadcast over the com system.

Tuvok received no answer from security. The Bridge speakers were filled with static, as their
intra-ship transmissions were jammed. The doors of the turbolift on the Bridge opened and eight tense bodies turned, hoping help was arriving, albeit to the wrong part of the ship.

Klantio strolled in.

"So nice to see you again, Captain," he said. His tone would have been called friendly if he hadn't been carrying a large phaser rifle. "This ship is now property of the Minatian High Council. You are to tell us where you come from so that we may incorporate your people into our empire."

"We're not from around here," Tom said, but the look the captain shot him stopped any other witty comments from escaping his lips.

"I can tell you where we're from, but it will do you little good. We can't even get back there; how do you expect to?"

Klantio backhanded Janeway across the mouth, sending her sprawling into the lap of her first officer.

Chakotay's eyes flared with anger as he helped Kathryn back to her seat.

"You will tell us what we want to know, or we will torture every member of your crew. It is your
decision." His tone had become bored again.

"We will cooperate," Janeway said, "but I guarantee you will not like what we have to say."

The Minatian hit her again, harder than before. The captain's lip was split and she put her hand
over it, trying to stop the bleeding. Chakotay stood up in front of Klantio.

"She's telling you the truth. Don't do that again," he added, his voice calm, but sharp.

"Take the Captain and Commander to our ship. The rest…" he paused, thinking for a moment,

"Place them all in cargo bay one and erect a level ten force field."

The warrior to Klantio's left nodded and the other Minatians pushed the Voyager Bridge crew to the turbolift. The leader turned his attention back to the man and woman who stood side by side. He was rubbing the elbow on his left arm, the arm he had used to strike Janeway.

"Without you, this crew will break. They will tell us what we want to know. Or maybe you will
break," he said, his face contorting into a grin, flat nose disappearing into the folds of his cheeks and mouth.

"Juntero, take her back to my cruiser. Leave a cell open next to her for the man."

Juntero nodded and pushed Janeway roughly towards the turbolift. She looked over her shoulder
and saw the look of strength on Chakotay's face. He gave her a small nod and she forced a smile. The turbolift doors closed, breaking the eye contact they had maintained.

Seven woke up slowly, her eyelids heavy. When she eventually forced them to open, she saw the
faces of Paris and Kim staring down at her. The floor was cold beneath her and her entire left side had lost feeling, but was tingling as sensation slowly returned. She tried to sit up, but was held down by two hands.

"You're not going anywhere just yet, Seven," Tom said quietly. "They shot you when they beamed into cargo bay two. They allowed me to get into Sickbay to get a medical tricorder."

"How…considerate," she said flatly, trying to hide the pain.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Seven, did you just make a joke?"

"I believe I was using sarcasm, but the effect was the same," she said, wincing. Her head hurt. "How badly am I damaged?"

"Not too badly, actually." Tom was quiet for a moment, focusing the dermal regenerator on her.
Then he turned the little miracle-worker off and smiled. "Good as new."

"Thank you, Ensign," she said. "May I sit up now?"

Harry and Tom helped her sit up and she flexed her left arm slowly, trying to get the blood to
circulate. She looked around. "Cargo bay one?"

Harry nodded. "They brought everyone here. Well, everyone except the captain and Chakotay.
They were brought to the Minatian ship. We think," he added.

Seven nodded, as if she had expected that response. "They will be tortured for information."

"You're so optimistic," Tom said in his typically flippant manner. "Maybe they're just having tea."

"That is…unlikely," she said. She lowered her voice. "Have we made plans to escape?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Tuvok has told us we must be patient and wait for the opportunity to
present itself. We've only been here for a few hours. I think everyone is in shock still."

Seven looked pensive. "I believe there is a phrase from an old Earth book-"The Lord helps those
who help themselves." Maybe we should follow that advice."

Janeway had dreamed again. This time, she was on New Earth, crying. Her sleeping-self had not
been able to figure out where the tears had come from. But her dreaming-self revealed it slowly. She stood outside their house, staring at the ground; ground which had been newly upturned. As her sleeping-eyes fell upon what her dreaming-eyes were looking at, she saw the grave and the word "Chakotay" written on the dirt.

And then her sleeping-self began to cry as well.

"Doctor to Captain Janeway."

Janeway woke up quickly, brushing the tears away from her grey-blue eyes. "Go ahead, Doctor,"
she said with a shaking voice. She looked down at her body. She was covered in sweat; her pink satin nightgown clinging to her. She couldn't find the sheets anywhere.

"Captain, Commander Chakotay has begun to stir. I thought you would like to know. I doubt he'll be waking up anytime soon, but…"

"I'll be right there," she said, swinging her legs out of the bed. "Captain out."

Dressing in the first thing she could find in her closet, she arrived at Sickbay in a matter of minutes.

The Doctor stood over Chakotay's bed, turning briefly when the Captain walked in.

"You didn't need to come down, Captain," he said when she took up the spot on the other side of the commander's bed.

"I know I didn't, Doctor."

The Doctor shrugged and busied himself with the scan he had been in the middle of when the
captain had entered. For her part, Janeway placed a hand on Chakotay's chest, feeling his heart beat; it was no stronger than before. But he was moving a little, responding to her touch or maybe to his dreams.

"What do you dream, Chakotay?" she asked out loud and the Doctor, sensing her speech had been an accident, did not inform her that the commander was most likely not dreaming. "Do you dream of your father? Your spirit guide? Do you dream of Earth? Of the Maquis?" Do you dream of me? Janeway asked silently, not daring to voice the question.

He lay still, unresponsive. She sighed a bit, running her fingers over the tattoo on his face. A month ago it had all but faded into oblivion and now, three months into the coma, the tattoo was slowly resurfacing.

Janeway could only see that as a good omen.

"What's his status, Doctor?"

"His upper brain functions are lying dormant, but the more primitive parts of the brain are
beginning to act as they should. This is very encouraging, Captain, if a bit unexplainable."

She patted the Doctor on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work, Doctor," she said. She took
another look at her comatose first officer and ran her fingers lightly through his graying hair. She smiled softly as she left Sickbay and made her way back to her quarters.

The Doctor shook his head. Organics.

Chakotay heard the captain's words and wished that he could answer her. He was painfully aware of those around him, of every person who came to visit. And every time they spoke to him, he wanted to answer.

But his body would not comply.

He wanted to tell her that he wasn't dreaming, because he wasn't truly asleep. In his mind, he saw
pictures of his past, from the time he was a small child, to just hours before the Minatian attack. He saw his father, the Maquis, and the sparkle in the captain's eyes when she'd told him the truth about her days at theAcademy.

He was lost in the memories. They did not come in any chronological pattern, but were triggered by minor incidents in the previous memory he'd been reliving. And every time he tried to break free, when he heard a voice in the present, or the memory was just too painful, he was dragged deeper, and he would lose all sense of what was going on around him.

Klantio sat on his floor, staring thoughtfully at the two inverted-Vs on ovals. Janeway had called
these devices communicators, a way for crewmembers to talk amongst themselves and with the ship at large.

For a device that served such a simple purpose, it was incredibly complicated, far more complicated than anything the Minatians had.

On a broader level, that described the starship Voyager itself. On the outside, the tiny ship looked unimpressive and far from dangerous or intricate. And yet inside, the ship was far from effortless to comprehend. Klantio knew it was a worthy prize.

Standing up, Klantio ended up kicking the two communicators across his room. They were not
impeded by furniture or any other barriers, and hit the wall with a tinny clank. The Minatian warrior walked across his room to the only piece of furniture there-a wardrobe. He slid out of his robe and hung it up inside.

His body was covered in scales and scars. He was proud of every single scar he had received, but
the freshest had been the most rewarding to receive. The long scar started at the middle of his stomach and worked its way up the middle of his chest to just below his collarbone. The impossibly straight white line had been received from Klantio's sister in a battle over their father's body. His sister had joined their father on the bier that night.

Klantio's hand went down to scratch an itch on his left arm and stopped at his elbow. That was the injury that reminded him daily of why he was out in the middle of nowhere with the ship called Voyager. Had it not been for that battle, he would still have his command. Had they come out of the starfield where they should have, Borg cubes would not have surrounded them…

Klantio shook his head, banishing the memory to where it came. No, he would not worry about that battle now. He would think about Voyager and how he would get it back to Minas.

"It would help," he mused out loud, "if Councilor Sinten would answer my messages."

Klantio had been trying to make the council understand that if they could capture this Federation
ship, and find others like it, the Minatians would once again be a force to be reckoned with throughout the galaxy. But who wanted to listen to a captain who had once been a general?

Sighing, Klantio went over to the pile of blankets on his floor and lay down. The walls and ceiling of his quarters were painfully bare. The ex-general had made the decision, at the time of his demotion, that he would not have anything on his walls or in his life that reminded him of his formerly glorious days. But he could now build up more glory-with Voyager.