Counterbalance
Posted on Fri Feb 13th, 2026 @ 1:42pm by Vice Admiral Sidra MacLaren
414 words; about a 2 minute read
Mission:
The Tavrik Accord: Orchestrated Chaos
Location: USS Caelestis
Timeline: In the middle of Bearing Part III.
// Admiral’s Office – USS Caelestis //
Quen stepped out with a quiet acknowledgment, the door sealing behind her as she moved to address something outside the Admiral’s hearing.
Sidra remained where she was.
The office aboard the Caelestis was smaller than the one she kept at Fleet Operations. Less layered. Less crowded. The hum of the ship at impulse was steady beneath her boots, a constant reminder that they were already moving.
She did not sit.
Instead, she opened a secure channel and flagged it priority.
Not emergency.
Not fleet-level.
Personal.
High enough that it would surface before the end of his day. High enough that he would open it before sleep.
The recording light shifted to red.
“Mac.”
The word was quiet. Familiar. Not from the Admiral. Just his.
“I’m aboard the Caelestis. We’ve picked up a thread I can’t ignore. I’m on a hunt.”
He would hear the difference in her tone. Focused. Forward.
“Will’s staying with the Ruckers while I’m out. It may be better than him waiting in the apartment for me to not come home again. Fleet Ops has had me keeping hours I don’t like.”
A controlled breath.
“He’s mad at us.”
Not accusation. Not complaint.
“At both of us.”
She let that sit.
“He’ll message you tonight. Answer him before you answer me.”
That mattered more than anything else in the room.
“I want to hear about Tavrik. Not the reports. Not the summaries routed through ships and filtered language. I want to hear it from you. It deserves to be said in person.”
She rested her hand lightly against the console.
“I’m patient enough to wait.”
She did not mention Mackenzie.
Did not mention hearing from McKinney that Stephen had walked away from the explosion physically untouched.
Did not mention how close the escalation had sounded in the tactical briefings.
If he wanted to tell her, he would.
“I trust you.”
No elaboration. No qualifier.
“And I hope whatever this is for both of us resolves before it stretches any further.”
A quiet breath.
“I would like to come home to you.”
Her voice did not waver.
“Be steady, Mo Chridhe.”
The words were softer. Not weaker. Just closer.
She ended the transmission and watched the priority flag transmit cleanly.
He would see it before he closed his eyes.
For a moment she stood in the stillness of the office, feeling the ship move beneath her.
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