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"... Mr. Yore, sorry to have let you sleep so long. I kept hesitating whether to wake you on your 80th birthday, but then I remembered what you said. You wanted to see a beautiful new world. That might take a little longer…"
"It’s 2174 now, the 45th of the Wasteland Era. When you’ll see this letter, I can’t say… Maybe it will be 2229? I hope not. No one should sleep that long."
"My body is failing. Even with bionic organs, everything else ages. Lately, everything’s a mess. Those fools from 50 years ago still hadn’t had enough, and now they’re fighting again… The Post-War Reconstruction Committee was dissolved. Now it’s the Enterprise, Academy, and Army. Who knows what’s next."
"Ah, you must be confused. Where do I even begin… In short, the Post-War Reconstruction Committee was the body I told you about, set up to rebuild more efficiently. You can see it as a continuation of the Federation. It inherited all the Federation’s bad...
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