Shitpost I sketched up in a drawpile Transcript:
Captain's log. Star date: who gives a damn. They told me that selling dilithium and other blue rocks to the primitives and waiting for them to nuke themselves and then anointing myself god emperor of the surviving savages and instituting global slavery and using it to build fleets of warships to create an alliance of solar systems subservient exclusively to MY will and command was a violation of some asinine section of the prime directive and they said they'd have put me to death for crimes against humanity if the death penalty weren't outlawed in the federation so instead they reassigned me to a new post commanding a galaxy class on diplomatic missions which was the most severe punishment they could think of but they and I both know that they're just jealous that I figured it all out before they did and now I'm set for life as a golden god among an empire of primitives devoted to pleasing me while those fools in the admiralty are stuck having to virtue signal to the woke federationbrained idiot masses instead of living it up! They just want what only I was smart enough and brave enough to take! They don't have the balls to do what it takes, so they needed me to put in all the work! They want what I built! It's so obvious! But they can't have it! I created it! It's mine! My personal empire! My retirement plan! Think they can just take it over?! My slaves will never accept it! They know my face! Did the bastards at starfleet command save them from the cataclysms I caused? NO!! Only I did, in person! Who is it that they call the pale visage of merciful rains washing away wrath's shadow? Who here is the prophesied bringer of exalted wisdoms? Who is known as he who giveth and who taketh away? I am the one true god king! My rage carves canyons and my mirth revives the fallen! I am the great uniter and uplifter! ME! DO YOU HEAR ME?? -ahem- Computer, erase log...














