Editor’s Note: This story takes place during the Earth year 2367, Star Trek: The Next Generation’s 4^th season.

Marine’s personal log, stardate 44930.3:

My name is Michael Curzon Drake.

I'm a Starfleet Marine...part of an elite group of shock troops serving and defending the United Federation of Planets.

You probably want to know how, even why, I joined this elite group of warriors; whose roots trace back to the Marines of the first sailing ships on Earth long ago. From ancient Greece and Rome; Great Britain's powerful navy; those Marines all over the world; as well as the proud few of America's toughest fighting force.

...Continuing that warrior tradition as we explore the galaxy and beyond. Our mission: provide for the security of our Federation; fight against all enemies; to boldly go where no one has gone before...

...Anytime, anywhere.

Star Trek: The Proud Few

“A Long Tradition of Service” By David Kingsbury

I was born in September of the year 2349, the second son of starship captain Kyle Drake and Heather, a Starfleet medical officer. Born an American hailing from Round Hill, Virginia, our family comes from a military background, dating back to the old Highlands of Scotland. Continuing on through conflicts in the American Civil War; Boxer Uprising; World Wars I and II; Vietnam; Beirut; Grenada; Panama; Desert Storm and Somolia...

...And against the forces of the genetically-engineered dictator, Khan Noonien Singh, whom we would go up against one more time centuries later in the Battle of the Mutara Nebula.

One of my ancestors, Lieutenant Geoffery Drake--before leading men against Khan in the Eugenics Wars--came to be well-known, even in the history books of the Federation. The reason: while serving as a lance corporal, was a member of a Marine security platoon onboard the American aircraft carrier USS Enterprise. In the 1980’s, the combat information center detected an intruders presence within the ship, as it was experiencing an unexplained power drain. Security was alerted, and apprehended an unknown Russian saboteur...so he was called."

Aircraft Carrier USS Enterprise CVN-65

Alameda Naval Air Station, 1986

The man stood nervously waiting for the familiar tingle of the transporter to encompass his body. The sounds of fast approaching feet growing louder.

"Scotty...now would be a good time," Chekov said into the Klingon communicator he held. The voices were growing louder. Suddenly, several armed men surrounded Chekov from every possible angle.

"Freeze!" Corporal Drake yelled.

…To our family's discovery in the centuries ahead, this saboteur (who was later reported to have escaped—even though critically injured due to a severe head injury--with outside help) turned out to be a Starfleet officer, part of a crew who traveled back in time from the 23^rd century to save Earth from a planetary catastrophe caused by the effects of an alien probe.

The Drake line continued on through the centuries, many of them eventually serving in Starfleet. My father, Kyle, served during the Cardassian Wars, having fought bravely in that conflict. He almost lost his life when the enemy attacked the outpost he was serving at, known as Krasner, during a surprise assault. The Starfleet personnel fought off the Cardassian troops that entered the base, taking heavy losses, before the enemy was driven off by the arrival of the starship Rutledge under the command of Captain Benjamin Maxwell. A few of my father's closest friends were lost in the Krasner attack. Among them, Lieutenant Duncan Rossa, who was the son of Admiral Counaught Rossa, the same admiral who lost another son, Conner, during a Talarian border conflict on Galen IV.

Another Drake family member, my uncle Lt. Colonel Harold 'Hal' Drake, is a Starfleet Marine. Another Cardassian War veteran, whose platoon came to the aid of the Federation colony on Setlik III, when the Cardassians began an unthinkable massacre. Uncle Hal, while assisting Captain Maxwell's crew, had the help of one Starfleet petty officer in particular, a man who would come to be known as a 'jack-of-all-trades' by the name of Miles Edward O'Brien. It's as if our two Gallic bloodlines, both Irish and Scottish, were united once more against a common enemy. But this time, we weren't fighting against 'Longshanks'; nor trying to help retake the English throne for Bonnie Prince Charlie, prior to Cullodon.

Even though I was born on Earth, we grew up mostly in my dad's starship, the Excelsior-class Sun Tzu (named after ancient China's greatest military strategist, whom I've grown fond of). While onboard, my older brother, Nolan, and I had to get accustomed to living a naval family life. It wasn't an easy thing. Parents, especially my mom, who's a medical officer assigned to the ship's sickbay, had a very busy time. So we didn't get to see them as much. Along our journeys in space, when we were just little, we often spent some time with the ship's security officer; an Asian man named Lin Fau Chang, who had just recently graduated from Starfleet Academy. Ensign Chang is also an expert in the martial art known as kung fu; a fighting art that eventually gave birth to such fighting styles as Okinawan and Japanese karate, Akido, Korean Tae Kwon Do, and others. Chang was a pupil of the Chinese martial school known as the Chin Woo; and has also studied with the Shaolin and Tibetan masters. Having become a teacher (or sifu, as we call him), he took my brother and I, as we got older, as his personal students--where we learned some of the popular kung fu styles: such as Wing Chun, Hung Gar, Eagle Claw, San Shao, grappling, and a few others. I maintained contact with Chang even when he accepted a security position onboard the Enterprise-D (and later to Starfleet Intelligence). He has become my personal mentor and advisor, keeping up with my training of kung fu.

Among our travels, Nolan and I have gotten to know the Trill ambassador and family friend, Curzon Dax... for whom my middle name was given in his honor. Because he is old, and often fun to be with at times, we kept calling him 'grampa', or 'gramps'. To us, Curzon was like an additional grandfather to us.

To keep us occupied, we had a lot of hobbies and other forms of entertainment, including the holodeck. I am also a big fan of 20^th and 21^st century film and television. I'm likewise into another form of old Earth entertainment: music. But not just any music; classic rock 'n roll and the hard kind they called heavy metal. I have been exposed to such groups as Metallica, Kiss, Def Leppard, and a few others; as well as 1980's and '90's Pop songs. I tend to think myself a little different from the typical Starfleet officer or crewman, ones who are more likely takes up jazz, classical symphony, old early 20^th century swing. I'm not like those types, who seem to think hard rock is too loud. I'd rather use what the U.S. forces played to drive Panamanian dictator Manuel Noreiga out of his sanctuary in 1989. Can that stuff work against a brutal Cardassian Gul on Bajor? Doubt it.

Like our parents, and theirs before them, Nolan and I planned to join Starfleet, hoping to apply to the Academy. My big brother, having the age advantage, got there first, while I had to wait, 'cause I was still not old enough. At the time I was barely eighteen, my brother, having already graduated, was serving aboard the starship Saratoga as a security officer. I was just about to enter the Academy, having passed the preliminary and qualification exams. Then a few things, especially an event that altered Federation history, caused me to change my mind.

News of the threat that the Borg posed to the Federation caused great fear among us. But to us Drakes, we were ready to fight off this new, all-powerful foe; despite the fact that the odds were against us. My dad was commanding the Sun Tzu as part of the Earth Defense Fleet, while my brother onboard the Saratoga, headed off to join an armada commanded by Admiral J.P. Hanson at Wolf 359. Starfleet Command was monitoring the armada when contact with Admiral Hanson was lost, possibly due to Borg interference. But we knew where the Borg were heading, as many of us caught a glimpse of their Cube vessel blocking the sun high in the sky.

Fortune favored us when the Enterprise-D arrived, destroying the ship and ending the Borg threat for the moment. Prior to the Enterprise's arrival, the Sun Tzu, along with most of the Defense Fleet, was destroyed; though my father and most of his crew escaped safely. Soon after the Borg incident, our family received tragic news. Nolan was onboard the Saratoga when the ship, along with thirty-eight others, had been annihilated during the Battle of Wolf 359. Nolan was trying to help evacuate the survivors before he was killed. He died bravely, defending us from a soulless, cybernetic species bent on enslaving the entire galaxy.

Prior to my brother's death, as I was embarking on a future career as a Starfleet officer, I was in a romantic relationship. I often envisioned myself among the famous figures of Earth's history, as well as those of Starfleet. But the one historical figure that caught my interest (which, of course, I would never actually emulate myself) was the romance between the Augmented 20^th century dictator Khan Noonien Singh, and the beautiful Starfleet officer, Lieutenant Marla McGivers, formerly of the starship Enterprise-1701--commanded by Captain James T. Kirk.

I remember reading about the incident onboard that starship. But what fascinated me the most was the romantic story between Khan and McGivers, a Starfleet officer whose experience and historical qualifications were often not taken seriously by the ship's commander. At times, as I read some of the descriptions of the late ship's historian and what eventually led to Khan's takeover of the Enterprise, McGiver’s brief betrayal of both Kirk and later Khan in order to save her captain... events that resulted in the former dictator and his followers exile to the doomed world of Ceti Alpha V, where Lieutenant McGivers joined him.

At times I found myself dreaming and fantasizing myself; could I--without the possible betrayals that led to what happened on the old Enterprise--could I find my own 'McGivers'?

I thought I did, in the relationship of a beautiful woman, a cadet about my same age, who was already in the Academy: Jean Hajar.

We met a few years before she entered that institution. We had a lot in common; shared the same interests. We fell in love. We hoped to share more together. However, that was not to be. A number of disagreements between Jean and I shadowed that relationship. I even caught her cheating with another cadet one time during one of her semester breaks. This constant disregard of everything we had together--her nature that put a constant strain in our love, plus the fact that her constant presence, 'cause she was often popular among the cadet classes--could put a never ending sorrow within me. Could even create my downfall in my first year at the Academy. Due to those bitter feelings about my ex, I decided to withdraw from the Academy--a decision that did not sit very well with my folks.

But I did have a backup plan. Originally, I didn't want to join Starfleet itself. Although my parents and my late brother served in the fleet, Starfleet is not strictly a military organization, and I'm more into the military aspect. I'm a ground force junkie, wanting to wear Battle Dress Uniforms, getting dirty when the situation calls for it-- I mean literally; when taking cover; using my phaser rifle in the heat of combat. I want a more active role to defending the Federation. I looked to my Uncle Hal for advice, and made my decision.

I decided to enlist in the Starfleet Marines. At first, my parents were shocked when I told them. But between what I've been through, knowing that they'd hate for me to just come home after flunking out of the Academy, they came to accept my choice. My dad hoped one day, with enough experience, I would be eligible for the Officer Candidate School. I told him that I would make him proud, and that's what I intended to do.

I went to Parris Island, the training depot of the Starfleet Marines (whose history as a military training facility goes all the way back to before Earth’s World War One), where I began about three months of boot camp.

My drill instructors, having heard of my family background--in spite of my uncle being one of them--were not sure how I would live up to their expectations, being the son of a Starfleet captain; and why I decided to turn down a life of Academic privilege for the hard physical and mental discipline of becoming a Starfleet Marine. I had to prove to them that I had what it takes to become one of them.

In spite of what they threw at me, I did prove that I belonged in the Corps. I got through basic--graduating with the rank of private--then went through advanced training before I was assigned as a rifleman to a fire team in the 2nd Platoon, serving Bravo Company of the 46th Battalion. The platoon is under the command of 2nd LT Joshua Collins, who had just graduated from Starfleet Academy. Parts of the Battalion were assigned near the Romulan Neutral Zone, where a lot of activity was occurring in the past year. We've been maintaining a constant watch ever since a few-near conflicts with our pointed-eared adversary, with only the treaty preventing us from spilling blood. So far we've been lucky.

All of the events that have occurred, and anyone else posing a threat to the security of the Federation, is the reasons why I've joined the Corps. I'm willing to go through the trials, to lay down my life for those I'm sent to protect, and to uphold the principles that the Federation stands for. We want to maintain peace throughout the galaxy, but be ready when war is imminent. We must have a strong stance against those who threaten us.

I'm ready for action.

END OF PERSONAL LOG.

PRIVATE MICHAEL DRAKE,

ASSIGNED TO 2ND PLATOON, BRAVO COMPANY

46TH BATTALION, STARFLEET MARINE CORPS

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