There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen. The USS Ahwahnee travels at high warp into the latter; an imperceptible turn in the cogs of time, or the latest stroke hammered out on one typewriter of an infinite continuum that tells our story. The past becomes a shadow, frozen and inaccessible to all save the few that flit through this universe unconcerned. The future; an array of quantum unpredictability, anchored to the real by the actions of the now.
We have surpassed relativity. Space twists and warps around us. Our spatial coordinates are fixed; our coordinates in time constructible. Intermix chamber annihilation, and the departure of matter from this universe, in turn annihilates possible coordinates for the unfolding of time. Yet still more, later destinations, are created. Branching quantum realities, ever fluid across infinite tributaries continue to open and close. Pulsating like mycelial nodes, they weave a gossamer web enmeshed in the fabric of existence.
The continuum retains a viscosity. Slingshots, causality loops, wormholes all provide a spyglass through which the distant shores are seen. We possess the means to traverse these waters. To affect the past, to witness the future, unspooling uncertainty into concrete reality. What, then, would be the mystery of life? Locked on our path through the fourth dimension with the abilities that we possess, we could know all. New realities might be tailored, new paths woven.
Temporal wars, the flapping wings of deterministic chaos, and the lived experiences of beings beyond our dimensional realm all show us that to alter our continuum is folly. Change must come from within. Through our philosophies and celebrations of progress, we control our present actions. We build on the past, and improve our future not through surgical alteration, but through steadfast adherence to our guiding principles.
Foshir is reached. Two D’deridex class warbirds decloak; troop carriers. Thus we find ourselves at the mercy of events. We accept the monkey’s keystroke. The whims of the cosmic joker and capricious entities may prevail. For this reason we must remain the masters of our fate. We are, after all, the captains of our souls.