Mission Log treats Star Trek as both beloved television and a working object. That distinction matters. The show is not just counting aliens, endings, or continuity notes, though it has room for all of those. It moves through episodes in a deliberate line, naming the premise, the character pressures, the production context, and the moral claim sitting underneath the adventure. Recent entries concentrate on the end of Voyager, where the Delta Quadrant starts to look less like a destination than a test of what the series has been saying all along. "Natural Law" gives the show a clean ethical problem: Seven and Chakotay try to repair interference with a protected culture, then discover that the repair may carry its own damage. "Homestead" shifts the lens to Neelix and the discovery of Talaxians living inside an asteroid, turning a late-season departure into a question about home, loyalty, and when permission is not quite permission. "Renaissance Man" brings the Doctor's desperate deception into the penultimate slot, with the show attentive to how late-series structure changes the stakes. "Endgame" lets Mission Log start at the end, loop backward, and ask what kind of closure Voyager actually earns. The format also makes space for retrospectives. Ellie Littlechild helps sort Voyager's essential and forgettable episodes, including a cool appraisal of "Unforgettable." Ken Biller brings the writing-room view, from Neelix's exit to the old discipline of asking what a character would do next. Tim Russ widens the conversation again, connecting Tuvok, television direction, music, and the practical authority of producers and editors. That inside material never floats away from the series itself. It usually returns to craft: why a shot is allowed, why a finale bends toward one choice, why an episode can make one argument in act five that it should have made earlier. The humor is dry and fan-literate. The judgment is affectionate but not sealed in nostalgia. Mission Log is best when it can say that a scene works, that an ending ducks a consequence, and that both things can be true. Its rhythm suits listeners who want Star Trek discussed with patience, memory, and enough curiosity to keep familiar episodes from going flat.