One of the most common complaints leveled against Voyager is that it never followed through on its central ideas - those of a lone Federation ship journeying across unfamiliar space with no help in sight, and of a Federation crew merging uncomfortably with Maquis rebels. As far as the rebels go, that’s a fair point: the two crews get along surprisingly smoothly for two populations bordering on civil war, although friction between them drives more episodes than viewers probably remember. The complaint about Voyager’s journey being too easy, though, derives most of its fuel from continuity nitpicking. Voyager crashes more shuttlecraft (including a ton of Delta Flyers) and fires more torpedoes than it’s technically got to lose, sure - but such complaints misinterpret what Voyager was really about.
Upon a revisit, it's clear Voyager was never meant to be the gritty survival show fans thought they wanted (largely retrospectively, it’s worth noting, thanks to the rebooted “anti-Trek” Battlestar Galactica premiering shortly after Voyager’s conclusion). Viewed with fresh eyes and an open mind, Voyager was always about making the best of a bad situation: a crew made up of sworn political enemies, coming together to seek out their shared home - and taking the opportunity to do some honest-to-Science space exploration along the way. In other words, it’s BSG’s search for Earth, but fueled by Star Trek’s sense of discovery and optimism. In a sense, it’s almost a direct refutation of the political greyness of Deep Space Nine, refocusing attention at how tiny and precious is our pale blue dot - and how petty are our disagreements over it.
