Neelix grinned again at the tiny camera resting serenely on the table in front of him. Wasn't that a wonderful story, folks? he said rhetorically, not expecting an answer from a camera. I'd like to thank Lieutenant Hargrove for being a guest on my show and for sharing the thrilling adventures of Winnie the Pooh. He paused to stare quizzically at the lieutenant. What is a pooh, anyway? Is it some form of exotic animal life?

Hargrove's own satisfied smile began to dissolve under the Talaxian's questions. Well, I...I guess he's a... a... it's rather hard to explain.

Neelix nodded in understanding and patted the man on his knee. Nevermind. Next time, bring a picture. He returned his attention to the camera. And that's all the time we have today, folks. A few reminders now: a message from Ensign Samantha Wildman - if you have signed up to help raise the first baby in Voyager history - and what a cute baby she is! - please take another look at the baby-sitting schedule she and I worked out last week. You don't want to miss your token hour with the cutest child on the ship. And don't forget about that upcoming wedding! Lieutenant Saunders and Ensign Marnissi are as excited about the event as we are, but not much more excited! So keep that date and time free. You don't want to miss this - what a party it's going to be! But more about that later. And congratulations to Ensign Marnissi and Lieutenant Pktash on their promotions! I'll keep you in touch with any more news as it comes my way. For now, that's another exciting installment of Briefing With Neelix. Until next time, see you around the ship!

Neelix clicked off the camera and grinned at Lieutenant Hargrove. Thank you, Lieutenant. That was a very entertaining story.

Hargrove smiled back. I have more.

Excellent! Neelix beamed. I'll let you know when I have another opening for my show. But now I have to see to lunch. Excuse me. He rose and hurried into his kitchen, grabbing his brightly colored apron and tying it on as he went. He figured he had just enough time to heat up the leftover roast garnished with leola sauce and make more gracken bread before the lunch rush began. It was fortunate that he had enough leftovers; he'd been so busy lately that he hadn't had much time to plan or prepare new and interesting meals. Just the night before he'd stayed up well into the morning hours, talking with Saunders and Marnissi about their wedding. Though they had accomplished a lot and managed to settle several mild disagreements about the post-wedding party, he was too tired to care much about fixing something new for lunch.

The roast was heating nicely in the oven and the leola sauce was coming to a slow, even simmer just as the first of the lunch crowd appeared. The bread, however, was far from edible, so Neelix quickly grabbed some of the breakfast cakes he'd made out of grain from the aeroponics bay. He knew if he arranged them becomingly on the pretty flowered plate he'd found in storage, few of the crew would realize they were recycled from the last meal only hours earlier. He grinned at his own cleverness.

He was in the kitchen's back regions, carefully checking the bread that was rising on a warm heating unit when an irritated call interrupted his concentration.

Neelix! the voice boomed across the mess hall.

The Talaxian jerked in response to the shout and unwittingly poked a finger into the puff of bread dough. The slight bulge of the dough over the pan disappeared instantly, taking with it the thirty minutes of work that had gone into preparing it.

Argh! Neelix said under his breath, but dutifully grabbed a towel and hurried to the serving counter. Tim Rollins stood on the other side, looking highly incensed.

Neelix, what is this? Rollins asked the minute the cook came into view. He was holding one of the cakes aloft in his hand.

Neelix glanced at it in distraction, his mind still on his bread. Well, it's a breakfast cake, he announced.

Tim gave the man another irate scowl. I know that. But we had them for breakfast. That's when you're supposed to eat them - that's why they're called breakfast cakes.

Apparently the flowered plate and aesthetic arrangement wasn't doing what he thought it would. Neelix's expression changed to one of equal irritation. Is that all you want, Lieutenant? To complain about the food?

Food? Tim laughed sarcastically. Is that what you call it? My uncle's livestock gets better food than we do.

Neelix's eyes narrowed. For your information, Lieutenant Rollins, I was in the process of making a delicious batch of gracken bread when you so rudely interrupted and ruined the recipe. Now, if you think the food is so bad, you can just hop over to the replicator and get whatever you want. But don't bother me about it! he roared.

Rollins took a step back, surprised by the anger in the usually cheerful Talaxian. Okay, okay. Don't loose your shirt over it. Sorry about the bread. He turned away, but Neelix still heard him mutter to himself. Geez, make one simple comment....

His fists clenched tightly at his sides, Neelix returned to his bread to see if he could salvage any of it. But he'd barely had enough time to look at it before another crewmember interrupted him. This time it was Ensign Wildman.

Neelix? She had hesitantly entered the kitchen area to talk to him at his bread counter.

Neelix smiled as much as he was able under the circumstances. What can I do for you, Ensign?

Wildman looked around, puzzled. I thought we were having macaroni and cheese for lunch today. You promised.

Memory of that promise suddenly lit up Neelix's face. Oh, I'm so sorry, Ensign! Of course, how could I have forgotten? I just got so busy after we talked yesterday, and then the wedding plans got hold of me....

Wildman smiled. It's all right, Neelix. I'm just still craving things. I can't seem to stop myself, but I want...cheese. Her eyes grew a bit wider as she spoke. I was up every two hours last night with the baby, and each time I had to order something with cheese in it from the replicator. Now I'm all out of rations for the week, she continued, her voice changing from its typical complacent timbre to one of growing desperation.

I understand completely, Ensign Wildman. And I apologize most sincerely for my blunder. He pulled the woman across the kitchen with him. Here, will this do for now? It's a hunk of the fabricated cheese I was planning to use for your lunch today.

Wildman took the hunk of light yellow cheese, her face distorted into an odd look of disappointed longing. It's better if it's melted, she complained under her breath. But then she tightened her fist around the food. Thank you, Neelix, this will be fine. She broke off a piece and ate it right there.

Good! Now, how is that baby girl doing?

Fussy. Wildman shook her head, now looking tired. I'll be glad when her teeth finally come in. But then I don't know what I'll feed her.

Neelix patted her on the shoulder as he ushered her out of his kitchen. Oh, don't worry. The doctor and I are already thinking about solutions to that problem. We'll have her fixed up before she's even ready for it!

Thank you, Neelix, she said, clutching her cheese.

No problem! he insisted, though his thoughts were running along different lines. His enthusiasm lasted only long enough to get the ensign back into the mess hall so he could return to his bread.

But then Kes came in with Tom Paris and Harry Kim. They were all laughing loudly at something Ensign Kim had just said. They seemed to be having such a good time that Neelix couldn't stop the sudden negative feelings that engulfed him. There was Kes, his special friend, having fun with other people while he was stuck in the kitchen, cooking, listening to complaining crewmembers, and apologizing for not remembering 150 different eating preferences. He felt put upon at the least, and just as abruptly, left out.

Tom Paris chose that moment to jokingly comment, Hey, Neelix, got any coffee? Tom smirked at Harry and elbowed his friend in the ribs.

Neelix was beyond simple irritation now. Suddenly it all bombarded him at once: at this rate, he would never get his bread baked; he never had time to spend with Kes anymore due to his numerous duties, and all he could do was watch while others enjoyed her company; none of the crew ever appreciated his efforts, and most rarely even acknowledged him unless it was to complain about something he did or didn't do. The experience with Rollins and the breakfast cakes was just one of many similar incidents. Now Tom Paris was harping on yet another minor detail, undermining his authority in his own kitchen, and in front of Kes. Neelix decided he'd had enough.

That's it, the Talaxian said with a sense of finality. He started taking off his apron.

Tom watched him for a moment, frozen in surprise. Finally he said, What is?

Neelix folded the apron neatly and laid it on the counter. I've had it. The kitchen is closed. You'll have to get your lunch yourselves. He waved a hand in the direction of the leola sauce.

Harry Kim glanced at Kes and Paris before hurrying to explain. No, it was a joke at my expense, Neelix. Tom didn't mean anything by it.

Neelix nodded. Oh, I know that.

Kes moved forward, a furrow marring her brow. Then what is it, Neelix? Do you need help in the kitchen? I'll be happy to help out this afternoon. I'm sure the doctor can spare me for a few hours.

Neelix shook his head, then came around the serving counter to stand beside her. No, that's not it. He paused, then slowly continued. I just think that I spend an awful lot of time in this kitchen, making sure the crew gets the proper nourishment to stay healthy and fit, and all I get in return is insults and an extreme lack of respect.

Kes sighed and the furrow disappeared. She seemed relieved that the problem was what she considered a relatively small one. All she had to do was convince Neelix of that. That's not true, Neelix. The crew appreciates you a great deal.

Yeah, Tom echoed persuasively, thinking that if Neelix closed the kitchen, he would never be able to get by on just his replicator rations.

Kes continued, And you're very involved with the wedding plans. Alex just told me yesterday that he couldn't do all this without your help.

Neelix had to concede this point. True, I am a great help with planning a wedding. Still he shook his head. However, Lieutenant Saunder's comment, as nice as it is, does not make up for months of mistreatment. I have decided that I won't work with these conditions any longer. As of this minute, I'm on strike. And he folded his hands across his stomach, a sure sign that he considered a subject closed.

But Kes persisted. Neelix, don't you think you're overreacting? she asked, smiling indulgently.

Neelix thoughtfully regarded the three crewmembers. Finally he shook his head. No, I don't feel that I'm overreacting at all. When a worker is treated poorly, taken advantage of, and abused, then I believe that some form of action is appropriate. Rather than screaming at the entire crew at the top of my lungs, something which I doubt the captain would appreciate, I'm going on strike. Let them cook for themselves a while - see how much fun it's not. He stepped back, then grinned his disarming grin. As for me, I'm going to the holodeck. I haven't had the chance to try out that new program of yours, Tom, and I've been waiting for a month for just the right moment. See you later!

Neelix left the mess hall with a slight bounce and a light step. His attitude was downright jovial, in fact.

Kes looked at Tom. Tom looked back. They both turned to Harry.

Kim said, Does this mean what I think it means?

Tom nodded, an unhappy frown on his lips. Yeah. No dinner.

Kim grimaced. So, who gets to tell the captain?

Captain Janeway heard the turbolift doors open behind her and she turned around quickly to see who had arrived on the Bridge. A look of slight disappointment crossed her face when Harry Kim stepped off the lift, just returning from his lunch break.

She returned her attention to the sensors report that Lieutenant Tuvok was currently torturing her with. She valued the Vulcan's thoroughness in his reports, but she sometimes wondered if he wasn't more meticulous than necessary.

Tuvok glanced at her questioningly, but continued. The long range scanners underwent a complete diagnostic yesterday between the hours of eleven hundred and thirteen thirty. Four minor malfunctions were detected, none of which impaired the scanners. They were: a deteriorating fuse on conduit sixty-three, a minute rupture on the array dish, a blocked -

The turbolift door opened again, and Janeway couldn't stop herself from looking expectantly around to see who it was.

Tom Paris sauntered off the lift, glanced once at Harry, then shifted his gaze around the Bridge. He was a bit taken aback when he found the captain watching him. He was so surprised, he blurted, Hello, Captain!

Equally as displeased at being caught staring, she could think of nothing quickly enough to ask him that might not be conceived as a cover for her behavior. So she just nodded and gave him a slight smile. How is lunch today? Anything interesting going on in the mess hall?

Tom gave Harry another sidelong glance, but only said, Oh, you could say that, Captain. You know Neelix - he always has something up his sleeve. Tom crossed to his station and began an update on the ship's status, thankful to have an excuse not to look at his captain.

Janeway let a decidedly unprofessional sigh escape her lips, then turned back to Tuvok and his report.

But the lieutenant did not continue immediately. Captain, you seem preoccupied. I can only assume that you have something on your mind that does not relate to the sensors.

Janeway was forced to admit her distraction. You're very perceptive, Mr. Tuvok, but please, don't take it personally.

Commander Chakotay piped up from his place on the command level, She's next on the baby-sitting list. His grin split his features from ear to ear.

She eyed her first officer, amused at his teasing. I missed my turn two days ago when the warp coils needed realigned, she explained. I don't want to miss out again.

Tuvok's eyebrow rose a notch. I was not aware that you had volunteered to take care of Ensign Wildman's baby.

Janeway quirked a wry half smile. If it's up to this ship, I may never get my chance. I just wish it was longer than an hour at a time. It's been many years since I've had the opportunity to care for a baby.

Tuvok nodded sagely. I too find myself looking forward to spending time with the infant.

Tom Paris couldn't resist commenting on this. You, Tuvok?

Tuvok peered inquiringly at Paris. Yes. Is there a problem, Lieutenant?

Tom shrugged. I guess I just can't see you in a paternal role. No offense intended.

Tuvok nodded. None taken, Lieutenant. But I remind you that I have four children of my own. The youngest was well beyond the need for continuous attention when I left with the Maquis. It will be... Tuvok paused, searching for the right word, ...nice to again help instruct a fairly young child. He looked at Paris from his elevated perch at Tactical. I take it you do not feel the same.

Tom snorted. Looking after a squirmy little kid is not my idea of a good way to spend a free hour.

Chakotay chuckled perversely. And don't forget about the diapers, Paris.

Diapers! Paris wrinkled his nose at the suggestion.

As if on cue, the turbolift door slid open. This time there was no doubt - the baby had arrived.

Lusty screams echoed across the Bridge. Tom Paris wanted to dive for cover, but he settled for discreetly covering his ears.

A very distracted Ensign Partlow marched over to the captain. Here, she's all yours. Thank the prophets. With a heavy sigh, Partlow handed the baby over to Captain Janeway's willing arms, then dropped the Starfleet duffel bag he was carrying to the carpeted floor. There's all her things, diapers, clothes, stuff in bottles. I don't even know what all that stuff is for. I'm sure my parents never carried this much truck around when I was little, he said. He vigorously rubbed his shoulders, as if the strain of holding a baby was too much for him.

Odd, thought Janeway, eyeing the ensign's muscular build. She almost didn't stop her smile before it erupted across her face. Very good, Ensign. I think I can take it from here. You're dismissed.

Partlow moved into the lift, then turned once more. Oh, her diaper might need changed.

Tuvok's eyebrows were now in a line equal to his hair. That is obvious, Ensign, by the smell. But the lift doors shut, and Partlow did not hear Tuvok's comment.

A loud groan issued from the direction of the Conn.

Janeway grinned down at the wailing baby. There, it's all right. He's gone. That nasty old ensign who can't change a diaper is gone. Sh. She wiped a line of drool away from the baby's chin with the corner of the new blanket she was wrapped in. But it was apparent that Ensign Wildman's baby was not going to be comforted until she had a dry diaper on her little bottom. The captain situated the girl more securely in the crook of her arm, then bent to pick up the duffel bag.

Commander, she said, you have the Bridge. I'll be in my ready room.

Aye, Captain, Chakotay acknowledged.

And what of the sensor report? Tuvok asked, making the captain pause in her escape.

Later, she promised.

Enjoy yourself, Captain, Paris called helpfully after her.

I intend to, Mr. Paris. Janeway smiled to herself as the door slid shut on the Bridge, blocking the baby's wails from the other officers.

Nope, Mr. Paris said a moment later. You won't catch me doing that. The baby's cries were muted, but every officer on the Bridge was aware of each breath she took.

Tuvok sighed and glanced towards the ready room. At this moment, I tend to concur, Mr. Paris.

Captain Janeway, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She had changed the baby's diaper, and was now wiping a smudge of vomit off the shoulder of her uniform. Her desk was not much cleaner than her uniform, since she had chosen that spot as a temporary changing table. But she reveled in the mess. Though Voyager made a rotten nursery, and Janeway would have hesitated to admit it to anybody, she had secretly looked forward to the birth of this baby as much as its mother. Just the thrill of holding a baby again made up for much of their wandering bleakly through uncharted and dangerous space.

Yet Kathryn Janeway was keenly aware of what this baby represented. Like the approaching wedding between Marnissi and Saunders, Wildman's baby was a symbol of Voyager's future, proof that they could get by without the help of Starfleet and the backing of the Federation. As Marnissi had said, they could survive if they managed to stick together. Survival would eventually entail a complete, separate society of humanoid lifeforms in the Delta Quadrant, a unique USS Voyager civilization. Samantha Wildman's tiny baby girl was the start of it all. And it was at this moment, when an undistracted Janeway held the writhing infant in her arms, that the full realizations revealed themselves to her.

This was a new life, one whose experiences would wholly center around her ship, her policies, and her ideals. Starfleet ideals. For, by growing up on board a starship, and Janeway didn't see any alternative to that eventuality, the baby would know nothing except Starfleet rules and regulations. They would become the guiding influences in her life.

In visualizing this, Janeway suddenly became aware how stark an existence of pure Starfleet could be. For the typical Starfleet officer, a life of rules and regulations was tempered by shore leave, planet-bound family members, and other ties to various homeworlds. But for this baby, and any baby that might follow, there was no relief unless they made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. And though reaching home may be a relief to their parents, being displaced suddenly on an alien planet could hardly be a comfort to a child raised in space.

With such a severe existence so clear in her imagination, Janeway felt a revulsion for that kind of unrelenting life that was equally as strong. And for a brief, terrifying moment, she found herself considering alternatives to Starfleet.

The girl squirmed suddenly, distracting the captain from her disquieting thoughts. Janeway smiled tenderly at this baby who was bound for greatness as the first born of the ship's next generation. Oblivious to the distinction bestowed on her at birth, the baby yawned and blinked sleepily up at Janeway.

Content now that the baby was quieter, the captain settled down on her ready room couch and propped her feet on the clear table in front of her. She placed the baby on top of her legs, letting herself sway back and forth to further lull the child.

Age old methods work even in the Delta Quadrant, she mused as the little girl began to gurgle with her fist stuck in her mouth. The captain ran a finger gently down the baby's cheek and straightened a wrinkle in her dress. She marveled at the smooth skin and tiny hands and feet. Such a little thing to have caused so much trouble to her mother during birth. Janeway gingerly touched the three distinctly Kataren ridges rising in a vertical line from the tiny forehead, then began to play with the two perfectly shaped feet. She was determined to forget about responsibilities for awhile and simply cherish the little time she had with this newest member of the Voyager crew.

But only a few moments later her door chime sounded. Janeway cheerfully called out, You can come in, but you can't have her yet.

Kes entered, a smile on her elfish face when she set eyes on the baby.

Kes! Come in. Janeway was always delighted to talk to Kes. Take a look at her. She's growing.

Kes sat next to the captain and let the baby grab one of her fingers. Yes, she's several inches longer now than at birth.

Isn't it amazing how fast they grow? Janeway asked with a wide smile. She'll be needing new clothes before we know it.

And she'll be eating real food very soon. The doctor expects her to start teething any day. Kes sat, absorbed in the small life resting on the captain's legs.

A moment of silence passed unnoticed. But finally the captain felt obliged to return to business. So, is this a simple visit or is there something I can do for you? she asked the Ocampan.

Kes sighed and her expression immediately became sober. Have you read Neelix's latest report?

Janeway frowned. No. Why?

Kes just suggested, I think it would be a good idea if you read it.

Still frowning, Captain Janeway rose and crossed to her desk, carefully holding the baby against her shoulder. She called up the proper file and swiftly started reading. Then she blurted, On strike?

Kes nodded. I've been with him since lunch, trying to talk to him. I thought maybe I could convince him to change his mind. But he's so determined.

Did you have any luck?

No. If he were yelling and waving his utensils around, I might have a better chance. But he's so calm.

Janeway's frown deepened. That's odd.

Kes nodded, her expression worried. I'm beginning to believe that he's been playing with the idea for several days.

What's he doing now?

The last time I saw him, he was running through the computer's music library, helping Lieutenant Torres catalog the Klingon selections.

Really? Janeway was surprised at this. She'd had no idea that either crewmember had any leaning towards Klingon music. In fact, she wasn't aware that Neelix and B'Elanna got along well enough to attempt such a shared venture. She suddenly felt uncomfortably uninformed.

They were discussing the possibility of using some of the pieces for the wedding, she explained. As Kes spoke, Captain Janeway watched her expression begin to mirror that of a lost sheep, begging for help.

Janeway sighed and tried to look away. She could feel herself responding to the young woman's large dark eyes and imploring expression. She simply couldn't resist Kes when she looked like that. I'll talk to him, she said, knowing that she was relinquishing the rest of her hour with the baby. But for Kathryn Janeway, her crew came first, even when babies were concerned.

Kes' face lit up at that news. Thank you, Captain. I'll feel much better if you talk to him.

Perhaps we can solve whatever problem has come up. The captain planted a quick kiss on the baby's fingertips, then headed for the Bridge, the duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

She found Chakotay standing near the Conn and walked briskly towards him. Status, she commanded, more as a reflex than any fear that something drastic had happened in her absence.

Chakotay tried not to laugh at the humorous sight of the captain barking orders as usual while delicately holding a baby against her shoulder. He managed to check his emotions, but would probably never forget the juxtaposition Janeway suddenly represented. No problems reported, Captain, he dutifully responded.

Fine. You have the Bridge, Commander, and the baby. I'll be in conference with Neelix until further notice.

Chakotay had already read Neelix's strike statement and wasn't surprised at the turn of events. He only had to catch the glance that passed from Ensign Kim to Tom Paris and size up the situation. But he let himself teasingly say, Had enough already?

Don't gloat, she warned as she passed the baby to her first officer. She caught a last glance of Chakotay grinning and rubbing noses with the little girl just before the lift doors shut out the Bridge.

I can't believe you like this stuff! yelled B'Elanna Torres over the rumbling noise of Klingon music that Neelix had pouring out of his quarter's sound system.

Neelix grinned. B'Elanna grimaced.

But this is your culture, Lieutenant! Neelix hollered back enthusiastically. Just listen to that beat! Don't you think it would be perfect for the wedding party?

Torres slapped her hands over her ears. Only if you want Marnissi to murder you later that night!

The Talaxian physically scooted back a foot at that prediction. Well, no, I don't want that! he yelled. Perhaps something a little -

Neelix!

Both Neelix and B'Elanna jumped. They turned in the direction of the new voice.

Captain Janeway stood in the open door, and the best part, which is to say the loudest part, of the Rhapsody to Praxis boomed unheeded down the corridor of deck eight. Janeway slowly looked around her, too stunned to do much more than stare.

The quarters assigned to Neelix resembled more a trash heap for the refuse of the galaxy than the serviceable starship quarters one might expect to find. Spare parts of every conceivable kind lay scattered in any available space - on the table, the chairs, the bed. A few power boards were stacked in the closet, which would no longer close properly, and cables and wires covered every inch of empty space left. Janeway wondered how B'Elanna and Neelix had found an uncluttered place to sit.

After the first shock of the captain's visit passed, Neelix jumped up and manually stopped the computer. The noise instantly vanished, and they stood for another moment, allowing their ears to adjust to the ringing silence.

Sorry, Captain, Neelix apologized quickly. I didn't hear the door chime.

That's obvious, Janeway muttered and entered the cabin the rest of the way. The door closed behind her.

We were just going over some music, B'Elanna said, then mentally kicked herself for making such an idiotic statement. The captain was surely aware of their activity. By now, all of deck eight had an idea of what they were doing.

But Janeway refrained to comment. When she didn't explain her visit, but instead continued to look around in astonishment, B'Elanna and Neelix joined her in a perusal of the room.

Neelix blurted, Oh, I'm so sorry about the mess, Captain! This is only temporary, of course. I plan to move all this to storage at the first available opportunity.

Good, she stated shortly.

He quickly began clearing stacks of data padds off a chair, then motioned her to it. Please sit down, Captain. Can I get you anything?

No, thank you, Neelix. This isn't a social call. She turned to B'Elanna, who seemed rooted to her spot on the floor. Do you mind, Lieutenant? I need to talk over some business with Neelix.

Torres climbed to her feet and dusted off her pants. Uh, no, I'll go. I'll - uh - see you around, Neelix. She headed for the door.

Just take my advice, Lieutenant, and try listening to The Jumble Collection. That one has words to it. I think you'll really like it! Neelix called after her departing form, and Torres nodded, then escaped into the corridor. Neelix turned to the captain. Wonderful stuff, that Klingon music! What a solid beat!

So I heard, Janeway said as she seated herself on the chair Neelix had cleared for her. She crossed her legs, then pensively regarded her volunteer cook and morale officer. She began without preamble. Neelix, what's this about you going on strike?

Neelix cleared off a second chair and sat before answering her. His expression grew serious. I made a report this afternoon -

I read the report. It was...very thorough. She leaned forward, taking the edge off the official aura she employed while in conference with a crewmember, and openly beseeched Neelix. Neelix, please - is something wrong? Are you having problems with specific crewmembers or the crew as a whole? Is being Voyager's cook so awful that you can't....

Horrified, Neelix swiftly interrupted. Of course not, Captain! I never wanted to give the impression that I regret my move to Voyager! I love this ship as much as my own, and I love being your cook!

Janeway nodded. I'm gratified to hear that. She glanced at him, watched him hesitate. But? she prompted.

Neelix grimaced. Finally he said, Do you want to hear the story from the beginning?

Thinking of Tuvok's reports, Janeway wanted to ask for the brief version, but she only said, Please.

Neelix launched on a list of grievances. Minor though each incident appeared while spotlighted, being lumped together in one major complaint gave them a weight that would have depressed even the happiest of people. And Neelix was getting more depressed by the minute.

Finally he cut himself off. Well, you get the idea. This afternoon's occurrences were just examples of any typical day. For some reason, I just couldn't take it anymore. He shrugged. I'm very sorry if I inconvenienced anyone, but I decided that striking might have more impact than simply loosing my temper.

I would agree. And there are times that being an inconvenience is a good thing.

Puzzled, Neelix shook his head, making his loose hair dance over his shoulders. Uh, captain, I don't think I understand.

Janeway smiled. From what it sounds like, this crew, without exception, has gravely taken advantage of you, Neelix.

Oh, now Captain, I wouldn't go that far....

I would. You have supplied us with three decent meals every day for years, and I wonder how many people have given their thanks.

Not many.

I'm not surprised. And I apologize on account of all of us. You have been more help to us than you realize. In fact, I'm just beginning to realize it myself. Things should never have been allowed to escalate to this point. She sat for a moment in silence, turning over solutions to this dilemma. The question is, what should we do about it?

As the silence lengthened, Neelix began to loose his nerve. He squirmed in his chair, clasped his hands, then unclasped them. At last he said, Captain, maybe going on strike isn't such a good idea after all. I mean, I don't want to cause any problems. I mean, you're probably busy....

What would you say to a vacation?

Neelix squinched his eyes and pursed his lips. A what?

Janeway brightened at the idea. A vacation, she repeated. You're very busy right now planning the wedding, developing your show, seeing to the crew's general morale - it's no wonder you decided you'd had enough.

Neelix grunted. Hmm. I never thought of it that way.

You don't want to wear yourself out, Neelix. If you collapsed from exhaustion, where would the crew be then?

Neelix paused, trying to grasp her unspoken meaning. So you're saying I should take a vacation for the sake of the crew? This was a novel idea, one that Neelix had never considered. The concept that he needed to take care of himself so that he could capably take care of the crew was nothing less than a revelation. Captain! You're right! he gasped.

She nodded. Yes, I know.

I just never looked at it that way!

It's amazing what a little change in perspective can do.

Why, when can I start this vacation? How long does one last? What should I do? Do I have to -

Janeway held up her hands to stop the bombardment of questions she could practically see poised on the Talaxian's lips. I think a break from the kitchen would be a good idea. Just until the wedding is over, and you feel rested.

Rested, Neelix echoed, as if he had no concept of that notion either.

Does that sound fair?

Fair? Oh, yes, yes, very fair. But, what about the kitchen? Who's going to cook?

Janeway settled back in her chair and steepled her fingers against her chin. She slyly glanced at Neelix. Who do you think would benefit most from the first kitchen detail?

Understanding at just what the captain was suggesting dawned on Neelix. Slowly a grin spread across the Talaxian's freckled face. Why, how about... Lieutenant Rollins.

Chapter 2 || Contents || Chapter 4