One day in 2422, an old and somewhat sullen Fred Tyler was walking along the shoreline boardwalk  of Oceania 9(a popular cetacean vacation destination, and for the last 6 years for Tyler, Home) when suddenly a young Dolphin/Rudellian hybrid kid recognized Tyler from some of her preschool lessons. For the last dozen years or so a small cetacean preschool curriculum lesson describing the Schwarz-Tyler Memo had been included each year. And Fred had never realized that many cetacean kids learned his name(though many would quickly forget, being kids and all) and indeed, some had even looked up to him.

“Mummy mummy, can you get my padd and stylus…Cap’n Tyler, Cap’n Tyler, can I please have your autograph sir.” The sir had come out sounding the thur. The kid had flipper mounted repulsors not unlike the ones he had ordered Tesa to fabricate for his cetacean back in the day on the Blythe. This sort of thing happened once every few years or so as Tyler had taken a job as a professor at a series of small cetacean funded universities across the Federation.

Since that fateful day aboard the Blythe just over 20 years ago, when Tyler had risked his career for his 3 cetacean officers, covering for them for a full day and a half with a Commodore and his security details waiting to arrest Joe the dolphin, he had taught Warp Field Theory and Stellar Dynamics in the Physics department on Oceania 12 and now here on Oceania 9. As usual Tyler shrugged it off as her just reading about the story recently in school as was usually the case. But in this instance, the child had heard the story in her preschool over 6 months prior. Since then she had dogged her parents with questions about the ‘man who stood up and had gone to jail on behalf of all cetaceans’ as the kids humpback preschool teacher had put it.

For his part Tyler never acknowledged the fact he played a small role in change that had started before he was born and would end long after he was dead. He had taught his lessons, and occasionally published papers in his field or wrote op-eds supporting one cetacean rights movement or another. He was often asked to speak at cetacean events as a keynote speaker, but aside from one mildly infamous conference he had stopped accepting those invitations. 

His friends from his 30 year career in Starfleet, or his work colleagues

would come and see him and visit from time to time. But by and large, after spending those 2 years in prison, Tyler had lived out the rest of his life in relative obscurity. He had stood up for something he believed in, he had been punished for it, and he went on with his life as far as he saw it. He did not seek any limelight or fame.

“Sure kiddo.” The old man said as the Rudellian mother handed him a stylus and padd from her bag and smiled. 

“Oh thank you Cap’n, I’ve read all your logs sir, you were so smart on the mission when you were facing the Tholians and the Sheliak…how did you blow up the base? The logs never said how you did it, it always just said, clastified? Collapsified? Mummy, what’s that word?”

The mother smiled and nodded at Tyler, appreciating the man’s patience. 

“Classified Suzie.”

“Oh yeah, class E fied” the kid said, sounding out the word.

“Well Suzie…” Tyler started, before kneeling on his old creaky knees, bringing himself face to face with the kid.

“Let’s just say it was a team effort. If you want to read some more logs(he only commanded the Blythe for a mere 5 months), you should have a look at the logs of Captain Varyn K’lev. His logs are more fun then mine.

“Write that name down Mummy.” Suzie said quickly turning back to Tyler.

“So kiddo, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I wanna be a Starfleet Cap’n just like you sir.” Suzie said then did some faux shadow boxing with her little flippers.

Tyler chuckled for a second then stopped.

“You know what Suzie. I have a feeling you’re not a Starfleet Captain just like me…” he paused and the kid was noticeably saddened.

“No, you won’t be like me, you’ll be an even BETTER Starfleet Captain then I ever was.” Tyler smiled at the kid’s face brightened with excitement. Tyler then ruffled the little patch of blonde fur on her head that was all the rage with the kids these days. After some more pleasantries the little group separated. Unbeknownst to Tyler he had just influenced the life path of the future ‘Vice Admiral Suzie Drussagga’ in a very profound way.

As Tyler walked away, a single tear rolled down his cheek. He’d live on for a few more years and published a few more papers. But one day he didn’t show up to teach his class, and was found deceased in his apartment on campus. He would never come to realize that though he had been punished by one group of people for what he did that day so long ago aboard the Blythe, he had been quietly celebrated by another group of people. The two groups were Starfleet Command and the nascent but growing Cetacean Rights group respectively. Then a week later, the funeral would show all the invited attendees just how much the latter group quietly celebrated Fred.

It was supposed to be a modest affair. Tyler’s family, family friends, several work colleagues, and a few dozen of his fellow Starfleet officers(many middle aged, or elderly by now). No more than about 100 people. The ceremony would take place at a cemetery in Tyler’s home town of Victoria, BC, Canada, Earth.

But at about 0850h that morning, right before the funeral was to begin at 0900h, the local transporter hubs were nearly overwhelmed with inbound transports. As it turned thousand cetaceans from all over the planet, heard about the funeral through the pygmy beluga, Captain Mee IH. Mee IH himself was one of the oldest pygmy beluga in Starfleet now at the mad old age of 63, and was also the first beluga to command a non aquatic Starfleet capital ship. He had sent out a notification on a local cetacean chat room when he arrived on Earth for the funeral a few hours prior.

As a testament to Captain Frederick J Tyler, Phd, SD and the efficiency of the local transporter hub’s staffs, four thousand and eight three cetaceans also attended the funeral. Fred never realized what a fine diplomat he has inadvertantly been for the cetaceans peoples. Though never assigned as one, he had accomplished far more then any cetacean born Ambassador ever had.