When searching for Hope, how do you know if you find it?

Posted on 01 Nov 2025 @ 3:33am by Senior Chief Petty Officer Morgan Harrison

607 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Shakedown

Morgan Harrison sat in his new quarters aboard the USS Cygnus, looking out of the window as he tried to understand everything. For the last seventeen years, he'd been happy working for now Admiral Reynolds, and yet when Malcolm had suggested he accept the offer of Admiral Savok, Morgan had trusted his long time friend.

But being here... what was this? He had been a procurement officer, and yet now he was Chief of the Boat, essentially overseeing all the Non Com crew on the ship. It wasn't something new to him; he'd led Vindicta Corps for years, and commanded people in battle, but then, that was different, in the sense that Morgan had been someone different back then.

Now, he was really good at combat, hand to hand, and marksmanship... and yet that was the life he'd been fighting to leave behind. He'd gotten his revenge for the fourteen year old boy who'd been forced to watch his parents get butchered, and he'd felt nothing on that day.

He'd expected to feel happy, but he'd felt nothing... except lost. So, after some thought, he'd accepted now Admiral Reynolds offer, and had joined Starfleet.

People told him he should be in security, but he'd had too much blood on his hands already. He still felt like there was blood soaked into his hands. Yes, Morgan would fight when he needed to, but he preferred to solve problems instead.

He remembered how the crew of the Starbase, and the ships he'd been on, all went to him when they wanted something they couldn't find in the replicator, or through their friends.

The reason he was good was because technically, he still owned Vindicta Corps, even if he didn't run it, and he also owned a trading business. He let others run them; he needed to focus on his duties. But he had his contacts.

But this ship... it was different from his last job. He'd seen the crew still tired from their last mission, and a brief look into it showed that they'd seen death and destruction. He'd immediately put in a call and made sure the colony had new supplies, but it still didn't give him that feeling he had been hunting.

Could he even feel anything anymore? Was he capable of feeling pure joy or happiness? For all the years he'd been serving in Starfleet as a Non Com, he hadn't ever considered his own feelings and emotions, and yet here he was, trying to make sense of how he felt.

He took a sip of his drink, a simple glass of fruit juice, trying to process his recent understanding. He refused to speak to any counselor, of course. He could respect the profession, but he knew it wouldn't help.

So he had his own quest to perform whilst he remained on the Cygnus. He needed to find his emotions. He wasn't a Vulcan, that was for damned sure. But at the same time, he was... something else, at least mentally and emotionally.

He'd spoken to Captain Bane about finding peace, but that was one conversation. This thought, this feeling... no, it wouldn't be found in a single conversation.

But maybe... just maybe... there was some hope for him. There was just one question he needed to answer.

Would he even know if he found it?

That question remained on his lips as he finished his drink, and began to arrange his quarters to be how he liked it.

After all, every quest began with an organised mind, and an organised home.


OFF:

An Introspective post by

SCPO Morgan Harrison
Chief of the Boat
USS Cygnus.

 

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