He was young then, wild and exuberant, full of life, and a zeal for the cause of ‘Cetacean Rights’. He was an up and coming Lieutenant and the Asst. Chief of Cetacean Ops for the flagship of the 3rd Fleet, which was the USS Concord at the time. But his left pectoral fin shook as it hovered over the button that would transmit the signal to his fellow ‘labour unionists’. The dozens of other cetaceans involved all knew the risks involved in what they had spent weeks planning, and would carry out their part in the “General Strike” regardless of consequences.

Their demands were minimal in the grand scheme of things; double insulated pool linings to avoid accidental electrocution, which had become all too come on shipboard pools across the Federation, expedited roll out of the ‘Dominion inspired’ integrated VR headsets that were ready for mass production but had been stuck in R&D developmental purgatory for several years, and a commitment to begin developing mobility aids for cetaceans.

Though it had been 100 years since the Great Enlightening, brought on by the hallowed George and Gracie, and Dr. Taylor, grace be to her, there was still a small but vocal minority of cetaceans that felt they were underprivileged and treated as second class citizens. And it just so happened that Lt. Mee IH was secretly one of the ring leaders of the activist portion of that minority.

The smallest of squeaks emerged from the thin and fit pygmy Belugas lips.

“Mee IH, bro, if we’re going to do this, we gotta do it now, otherwise this channel will be traceable.” His bottlenosed dolphin accomplice said from a console across the pool from him.

Mee IH steadied his hand, dispensed with his doubts, grit his teeth and slapped the button that would tip off what would later be known as the “Cetacean Mutinies of 2385” officially, and the “General Strike of ‘85” in cetacean circles.

Mee IH leaned his head over and scratched at the side of his black eye patch. It had been 7 years since the Gorn invasion that he had lost an eye defending against, but it still itched sometimes. The years since then had seen a stabilization of front lines all around the embattled Federation, but the situation had deteriorated for cetaceans in the service. As the Asst. Chief of Cetacean Operations for the FSS Concord, he had eventually been brought into a plot that involved dropping several dozen ships out of warp and beginning a general strike in protest of their treatment, and the harsh conditions of the service in general.. LCdr Mee IH had been given a central role in the conspiracy, as an organizer. It would be he who would send the signal that began the ‘insurgents’ actions.

His flipper didn’t shake, in fact the digits in the extremities were curled into the cetacean version of a fist. His mind was filled with the thoughts of fallen comrades and good times swimming with his humanoid crewmates. Though he felt that his kind had been dealt a bit of a bad hand over the past several decades of near constant warfare, he did not think that black bloody mutiny was the way to address the injustices.

“Mee IH bro, if we’re going to do this, we gotta do it now, otherwise this channel will be traceable.” His bottlenosed dolphin accomplice said from a console across the pool from him.

“No. Nope, there has to be a different way. Pushing this button would betray my oath as an offic…” Mee IH’s principled speech was silenced as his accomplice shot him with a phaser.

“Had a feeling you’d get limp flippered.” The accomplice swam over to the now limp Beluga, nudged him out of the way and pressed the button. The signal went out, and the great “Cetacean Uprising of 2385” commenced. The mutinies, sadly, were all unsuccessful, and resulted in the executions of several thousand cetaceans, both servicemembers and civilians as a warning against any further disobedience.