This will be my last entry.

Starfleet have fired me, following allegations about some regulations I may have breached.

Something to do with 'immoral interference with a inferior species.' Such frivolities never bothered them when I was mopping up their bad decisions in the Delta quadrant. They happily turned a blind eye so long as their foul little secrets were never outed. But now there's a new boss in town who's cleaning up Starfleets image, so guess who his minions are holding accountable for all their colossal muck ups. Yours truly of course.

Hypocrites. Every last one of them.

And they're making me the escape goat.

Except there's no escape, because there can be no appeal against the verdict. I was held in contempt of court, whatever that means. I was told that I will never Captain another vessel again. I even have to be supervised with a rubber duck in the bath. And not by a pleasant multicoloured alien female, I might add.

Anyhow, when the man in the funny hat told me I was guilty on all charges, and that my utter disregard for all that is morally decent within the starfleet code rendered me unsafe to Captain even a netball team, I tore off my shirt, forward rolled across the courtroom and dropped one of my extra special 'photon torpedos' on the courtroom floor.

As the missile steamed majestically on the glistening wood surface and the open-mouthed press pack showered me with flashbulbs, I stared the wizened old coot directly in the eye and smiled.

"How about that for a dishonourable discharge?" I said.

So, from the comfort of the luxury retirement apartment that I blackmailed my superiors into giving me, I leave you with this thought:

Being a Captain is not about wearing a badge or a uniform. It's about taking charge and doing whatever the hell you like.

Make it so.