The Narendra class stations, though not as well outfitted as the mega stations of the Spacedock Class and larger, had a comparatively well equipped Cetacean Ops section. Though they were more commonly found aboard ships ensuring safe warp travel, most space stations maintained small cetacean staffs that could be used to support ongoing operations.

Lt. Stu was a 6 foot long cybernetically enhanced Narwhal from Oceania 5. He had a tritanium exoskeleton grafted onto his frame under his blubber layer. He had been born with a congenital disease that was colliqiually known as “weak fin disease” that afflicted roughly 1 in 100000 Narwhals and about 1 in half a million Orcas. The exoskeleton had been an experimental therapy when it was performed on Stu in 2390, having only been performed half a dozen times at that point in history. But in his case it had been wildly successful, allowing him to swing as fast or faster then his contemporaries.

His terminal in his small modest quarters chirped signifying an incoming message.

“What’s this malarkey? Transfered for a critical temporary assignment…” the porpoise continued reading the set of orders.

“Mission specialist?… Investigating a distress call?… I’m a warp field theorist and marine biologist, what in Kirks name would they need me as a missoon specialist for? Guess I’ll be canceling that date with Peg tonight.” Peg was a cute young dolphin Ensign he had been chatting up the past few weeks since he had been assigned to Framheim.

Stu acknowledged the message and began packing his meager belongings that consisted of several beach balls, a variety and different sized hula hoops, and a few photos into his trunk and got ready to beam over to the Bakersfield.

((Bakersfield, Cetacean Ops))

Stu was beamed directly into the pool aboard the the California Class ship. The, up until now, unused pool. The water cyclers were on, and the pool was full, but that was it. The room was dark aside from the random glow of the different consoles and panels spaced out around the room.

“Hello? Anyone else here?” Stu asked in the eery darkness. He had expected there to be other cetaceans onboard. It had been SOP for all Starfleet capital ships to have a Cetacean ops department while on active duty for nearly 40 years. Stu didn’t know that the ships AI had made that role redundant aboard the Bakersfield.