Disclaimer: Paramount, God...how far apart are they?
Rating: PG, why not?

Resurrection
Chapter 7

Klantio rubbed at the scab underneath his left eye. This would prove to be a glorious
scar. He only wished he hadn't inflicted it upon himself. He made a mental note to get the
lighting in his room fixed.

Sitting down on the floor, he gathered up the doctor's reports. Neither of the Starfleet
officers were talking. Klantio had contemplated going over to Voyager and taking one of the other senior staff members for interrogation but he had a strong feeling the results would be similar.

These humans were a stubborn and resilient species.
Getting up off the floor with some difficulty, Klantio made his way out into the corridor
and to the bridge of his own ship. It wasn't as impressive as the bridge of the Federation vessel.
His captain's chair was situated in the center of the back wall, which was only five paces from the small viewscreen. His weapon's officer sat directly to his right, facing the wall, and his
navigator had a similar position on the left side of the captain's chair.

"Did you contact the councilor?" Klantio asked one of his bridge officers, a solider who
had to have plating installed on his left shoulder because so much of it had gone missing. He
looked very much like a Borg.

"Sir, the councilor's secretary refused to speak to me. I told him your call was very
important but..."

Klantio wanted to smack the bridge officer. Of course, it wasn't the soldier's fault the
councilor wouldn't speak to him, but Klantio couldn't very well hit the councilor. He reigned in
his anger and sighed.

"Keep trying, solider. Tell them anything you think will get their attention."

Klantio sat down in his chair and stared at the blank view screen. He could have been
doing this wallowing in his quarters, but this felt better. If the whole crew saw that their
leader was unhappy, maybe they would work harder at getting him back into the good graces of the Council. Besides, his presence would ensure that the crew would not slack or otherwise not work to their highest ability.

His mind began to focus once again on the two very difficult humans he was holding captive.
How was he going to get them to talk?

Maybe a little emotional persuasion... He let the thought trail off. Smiling, he stood up
and walked off the bridge.

"Mr. Vulcan," Neelix said cheerfully, sliding up next to Voyager's chief of security. "I
know you have more experience when it comes to these sorts of situations and I should concede to your decision..."

"That would be the most logical course of action," Tuvok replied as he concentrated on his
index fingers.

"Yes but...I mean," Neelix dropped his voice. "Should we be trying to escape?"

Tuvok sighed. "Mr. Neelix, we are out gunned and trapped behind a level ten force field;
any attempt to escape would be met with greater resistance than we could withstand."

Neelix opened his mouth to speak but shook his head slowly instead. "Very good, Mr.
Vulcan." Smiling, Neelix made his way across the cargo bay to where the rest of the senior staff
sat. "He's not going to cooperate."

B'Elanna growled low in her throat. "That's just wonderful." She turned to the other
three members of the group. "So we're in this alone."

"Well, us and the rest of the crew," Tom reminded her.

B'Elanna nodded. "After we coordinate the plan, we'll let them know." She sighed.
"Anyone have any idea about a plan yet?"

"Once we have a plan," Seven broke in, "if it requires one of us getting beyond the force
field, I can achieve that."

"How? Did you and Harry figure out how to get the force field down?" Tom asked.

"No, but my Borg implants can be modified so that I can penetrate the field. That is how
Captain Janeway and I escaped Arturis."

"Why didn't you tell us this sooner?" B'Elanna asked, biting back her anger.

Seven frowned. "As more of my human biology asserts itself, my Borg memory nodules stop
working."

"You forgot," Harry summarized.

"That is correct."

"Well, at least we have something to work with," Tom said with forced cheerfulness. "Now,
how do we get there?"

Tuvok peeked over the edge of the transporter console and sat back down quickly. The
Minatians were crouched behind the transporter pad, trying to hide their large frames behind a foot of metal. Three of the six who had arrived on the ship were now dead. Tuvok's casualty rate was a little better-only two of his six security team members had been injured.

A familiar voice spoke from the other side of the control console. "Lieutenant Tuvok, this
is pointless. Would you please just surrender? You're clearly outnumbered."

"On the contrary, Klantio, the odds are even."

Klantio scoffed. "Your attempt at humor notwithstanding, Lieutenant, I meant our ships.
There are fifty of us, and only one of you. Tell your captain to surrender."

"I doubt Captain Janeway would listen to that suggestion."

The Minatian sighed. "Have it your way."

The firefight began again.

Janeway blinked again slowly, trying desperately to stay awake. The torture had stopped
for now, but her body still ached. Of course, if she ever allowed herself to sleep, some of the
pain would probably subside.

But there was no time for that. She still had no idea where Chakotay was or how, exactly,
she was going to go about rescuing him. He was, after all, much larger than she was.
Don't be so negative, she reprimanded herself silently. He might be fine, just detained.

That thought soon became a mantra for her. If she kept up the thought that her first officer was
alive foremost in her mind, then she would keep working on a plan to free them both.
Either the guards were unobservant or just didn't care, because she had managed to keep a
spoon from one of her last meals. Slowly, she had been filing it down on the bars in an attempt to
sharpen it. When she finally decided what her plan was, she would most likely need a weapon.
She heard doors unlocking and tensed up. It wasn't time for a meal, and they'd been
leaving her alone other than that. More torture? She hoped not. Her body was weak and tired.
Another round of interrogation would not sit well.

The moments before the guards arrived at her cell were excruciating. She knew fighting
would be useless, but she had to be ready anyway.

"Captain Janeway," Klantio said smoothly, "You and I are going for a little walk." He
grabbed her by the wrists roughly and dragged her off the floor.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice hoarse from screaming and disuse.

"You wanted to see your first officer, didn't you?" he asked casually.

She nodded but remained silent. Her mind was working furiously, trying to analyze
Klantio's actions. Was she really going to see Chakotay? Probably not. But what purpose would
there be in lulling her into security? It wasn't like she could fight back. Yet.

After walking for maybe five minutes, Janeway was brought into what looked like an
observation room. Three of the walls were the same gray color as the rest of her prison and the
fourth was most likely a two-way mirror. There was no furniture in the room she stood in, but the
adjoining room had a large chair in the middle, reminiscent of dental chairs from the twentieth
century.

As the lights came up in the other room, the lights in the room Janeway occupied were
lowered. She couldn't see any doors, but three figures entered from somewhere, two of them
dragging a fourth between them. The limp fourth form was thrown into the chair and strapped in.

"Chakotay," she whispered, feeling her throat tighten as a lump formed.

"Or what's left of him," Klantio added. "Unfortunately, our...medicines aren't very
compatible with your human physiology."

"Are you saying that he's dying?" she asked, trying to swallow the lump.

"Yes."

She closed her eyes tightly, willing the tears to hold back. "Can't you save him?"

Klantio smiled maliciously. "Will you tell us what we want to know?"

Janeway sighed. "What do you want to know? That man in there hasn't done anything..."

"Exactly. Neither of you has told me anything."

She wanted to scream. "What you want to know doesn't exist! There is no one coming to
help us; you can't get to our home world." She turned back to the viewing window. The shortest
Minatian walked over to Chakotay with a long needle and pierced the skin at the base of the first
officer's neck. She flinched.

"I think you've seen enough." Klantio grabbed her by the shoulder and tried to turn her
around.

"No," she said, twisting free of his grip. "Let me talk to him."

"Talk to him?" The Minatian's voice sounded stunned. "No, I don't think we can allow
that. But now that you know that he's alive, maybe you'll be a bit more cooperative."

"Yes," she said softly, "maybe."

"Damn it," Tom swore, pulling his hand back. "I never realized how strong these seals
are."

"Problems?" Harry asked from his guard post.

"The seals on these bins...they're airlocks. I though maybe I could pry them open."

"Ask B'Elanna," Harry said, smirking. "She's pretty tough."

Tom glared. "No thanks, I'll keep at it."

Harry chuckled and looked out over the cargo bay. He couldn't see Seven of Nine or
B'Elanna, even though he knew where they should be. The bins did an excellent job of concealing their work. Most of the crew was huddled together in small groups, talking quietly. He saw Naomi curled up next to Samantha and frowned. He wondered how hard this must be on the little girl.

"Got it!" he heard from below. Glancing down, he saw Tom peeling back the lid with
bloodied fingers. He looked inside and swore softly in a language Harry didn't recognize. "This
isn't the one I wanted."

Harry sighed. After an hour of work, they'd opened the wrong bin. If they continued like
this, the Minatians would notice. But it was obvious they couldn't rely on Tom's memory. So who would remember?

After helping Tom reseal the bin, Harry walked over to where Neelix was sitting. The
Talaxian was trying to comfort a nervous Ensign Jackson. The young woman had a fear of prolonged containment and had been on the verge of hyperventilating for hours.

"Neelix, can I talk to you?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Ensign Kim; what do you need?"

Harry dropped his voice. "Tom needs you to help him find something; do you know where the
plastisteel is?" Neelix nodded, gave Ensign Jackson a reassuring pat on the shoulder and made his way over to where Tom was crouched. Harry started to follow but changed his path and made his way to the hidden women.

He tapped softly on one of the shorter bins and two heads whipped around to look at him,
both bodies tensed for a fight.

"Take it easy," he said quietly, looking around before he ducked into their hiding space.

"Harry, Seven and I could have each killed you before we realized who you were. Be
careful," B'Elanna warned.

"Sorry," he whispered. "How's it going?"

Seven held up a metal plate. "Lieutenant Torres and I have successfully removed the
panel."

"Then we're on our way?" Harry asked hopefully.

B'Elanna frowned. "It's not as easy as that, Starfleet. We still have to figure out how
to by-pass the electricity controls without turning off life support."

Harry nodded. "I'm going to go back and check on Tom and Neelix. Once of us will be over
when we get everything set."