Operation: Pacifica, Daybreak
by Admiral J. FoxGlov, aka Hanover the Feral (NYAR!)

 It was still a hell of a time to be a Jihaddi.

 Months had passed since the X'hirjq fleet pulled out of Earth's
  orbit, and the lizards had long since retreated from its surface, certain
  that the planet's inhabitants were worthy of existence. However, they had
  left their mark -- and the Jihad's members had their jobs cut out for them
  trying to erase the mark.

 For those in TRES Corps, the job meant restoration on an enormous
  scale.  Main HQ, built among the Colorado Rocky Mountains, had been hit
  hard, and all but a few secondary bases and installations around the globe
  had been ordered to close. The majority of personnel were being dispatched
  to Corps HQ to help with the primary cleanup. Those, of course, who were
  still able to help.

 "Boston reporting in, sir."

 "Let's hear it."

 A pause. Then, "641 operatives confirmed dead. 128 listed as
  missing in action." That was from a number over a thousand.

 Reports continued coming in, every day. There was little to do but
  file the numbers away and continue working. Silent moments had to be
  postponed until off-hours. The reports themselves often changed from day to
  day, and were difficult to verify. Communication wasn't as easy as most
  remembered it, and until the main network was up to normal working order, it
  would stay that way.

 Restoration was one thing; but there was still something to be said
  for new developments. The space station _Ithaca_, while officially in the
  assembly stage, was being used at a level below full operative status.
  Recently that included service to the partially operable TRES Space Fleet,
  whose ships narrowly prevented disaster in the form of an enormous chunk of
  hardened cheddar cheese piloted as a warship by one very naive spounge
  minion.

 The Fleet was now a priority; though for most in the Jihad, the
  only flying dairy products to be expected were those in low Earth orbit
  during the occasional mess hall food fight. Nevertheless, it had been
  decided that TRES Corps needed a tighter defense for the solar system. If
  the Fleet was going to exist, the _Ithaca_ needed to be finished so it could
  be put into full use. _Templar_ cargo shuttles, Lt. Burdoo's design, took
  off and landed almost daily at a secluded base in Florida's panhandle to
  transfer personnel and supplies to the station.

 Yet no matter how much more smoothly things were allowed to run
  thanks to such advances, it was almost too much for the senior staff to
  handle.  Top brass had abandoned rigid scheduling in favor of general
  autonomy among the various squads and divisions. Deadlines were issued, but
  few were met. As long as every division produced the desired output,
  however, their superiors seldom issued reprimands. They just wasted more
  time while real work could be done.

 It had been particularly taxing for J. As an Admiral and 3rd in
  command, wherever he went officers bugged him for advice, authorization,
  reports, you name it. Most, as should be expected, weren't used to a crisis
  of this magnitude, and needed their commanding officers for emotional and
  moral support. It would've been nice if the higher-ups were significantly
  more equipped to handle the load. As for J, he knew he wasn't.

 "Sir! There's something I need to ask you, sir!" Lieutenant Andrews
  was on his case earlier that day.

 "Chris. Walk and talk, I'm busy."

 "Right. Well, it's this new idea I had for despoungification
  that..."

 J cut Andrews off with a sigh. "You know the procedure, Chris. Any
  new despounge ideas you have that you think are worth a trial run, you fill
  out a yellow form and file it in the appropriate drop box. I see them all."

 "Yeah... I know, it's just..." Chris's tail swished nervously, his
  saurian face showing a little uncertainty.

 J stepped forward and looked into Chris's eyes, reaching up to grip
  his shoulders. "It's okay. We're all under a lot of stress lately, and it's
  getting the best of us."

 Chris nodded, and stood up straighter to his full 7'2 height.
  "Y...yeah."

 J smirked and let Chris go. "Go back to your assigned post. You're
  needed if we're going to get the network back up."

 Chris was off again. He was just one more at that moment, another J
  wished he had time or nerve to see, but couldn't. At the very least, he
  could give Andrews credit for knowing the drill. It was a good sign: TRES
  Corps wasn't a unit of sheep, so a shepherd wasn't necessary. Aside from the
  understandable loss of attention from time to time, everyone knew where he
  or she was needed, and could be counted on to finish what they started.

 For J, however, it was hard not to feel at least a little bit
  different.  Okay, so a lot different. First and foremost he was different
  physically: a biped fox in an organization staffed by more than 90% pure-
  strain humans.  He was human in most respects himself, most of them non-
  corporeal. So despite the respect he commanded, and his ability to appeal to
  most human emotions rather easily, he still carried sort of novelty status.
  Like a walking cartoon.

 He didn't like to dwell on it for too long, in all seriousness.

 Still, there were times when his rather unique physicality meant
  practical service to the Corps. Like during the period when all nuclear
  reactors had been shut down for major reassembly, and all that remained were
  the solar panels. It shouldn't have been a problem, except that it was
  assumed enough reserves had been stored to weather the thunderstorms that
  suddenly showed up only a few days into the shutdown.

 "Ensign, what's the problem? Why are we blacking out?"

 "It's the generators, sir... we haven't got enough direct sun in
  days, and we're running out of power."

 J had just sighed, then borrowing a collapsable flagpole, had gone
  out into the storm. Ten minutes passed. Then:

 *FLASH*

 *RUMBLE*

 "Yow! That one must've been close."

 "No kiddin'." J was at the door, a bit damp, but eyes wide in a
  leer something like the one Jeffrey Jones had in a certain scene from
  "Howard the Duck." He extended his arm and rubbed his fingers together in a
  gesture that sent several sparks flying and most officers following suit.

 "I just need the wires." J spoke through clenched teeth, then took
  the electrical feed leading into the solar batteries.

 The base had power long after the storms passed. There had been
  talk of selling one of the reactors to expand one of the recreation decks,
  but it hadn't lasted for very long.

 This morning, J was involved in other work... that was leaving him
  emotionally rather than bioelectrically drained. Among those missing in
  action was the dragon known generally as Hamster, of Captain rank in the
  Corps. J had been the last to see him alive; just before the tail section of
  a B'Harnii Mechanized Warrior (BMW) thwacked Hamster out of the sky and into
  a rain-soaked Georgia ditch.

 J had been saved, but the dragon had been left behind. It didn't
  sit lightly on his shoulders, especially for the fact that Hamster hadn't
  been found after the X'hirjq left the Earth. Most had assumed he'd be
  captured or killed by the lizards, but there was simply no sign, no
  assumption that could be made certain. It was understood that if a normal
  human was killed or missing, that it would be difficult to find him or her
  over the entire planet. However, if a ten foot dragon was lost, one might
  think finding him wouldn't be so hard.

 Too much time had passed. The Admiralty had decided to list Hamster
  as MIA. For that recent decision, J faced the task he had volunteered for:
  cleaning out Hamster's office.

 It was a large office, even for the space normally allowed the
  higher ranks. Hamster needed the space; he took up space. Even though it was
  within his power to assume humanoid form, Hamster usually didn't, and no one
  had bothered to ask why. Most of the buildings on the HQ grounds had
  ceilings over 12 feet, and there was scarcely a door that Hamster couldn't
  get through, even if he needed to duck his head and shrug his wings flat
  behind him.

 His office, which J could never remember Hamster spending much time
  in, was built with the dimensions of a large cargo bay. High oaken
  bookshelves were crammed with various thick texts which Hamster called
  "light reading."

 "'Endgame and Three Other Works', 'Being and Nothingness', 'Flame
  and Shadow', 'The Chronicles of Pern'..." J read off the names as he
  strained his neck to see the book jackets. Some of these might be a chore
  for most humans to pick up, let alone read. He busied himself with
  telekinetically nudging them off the shelf, then catching and stuffing them
  in boxes to be moved into the library's collection.

 He glanced around the room from time to time. There wasn't much
  here other than the shelves and the oversize desk, complete with a lounge
  chair sans a back. His mind wandered with his eyes, trying to imagine what
  Hamster thought was worth saving, if there was anything in the room that
  could be kept as a remembrance.

 J rubbed his eyes. He didn't know. Hamster had been extremely
  talented and just as enigmatic. The dragon commanded an innate respect
  wherever he went, but it always left everyone curious as to who they were
  respecting.  J remembered wanting to sit down and talk to Hamster one on one
  several times, but something always managed not to come together. Now he was
  gone.

 "Sir."

 J looked up and turned to the office doorway. "Yes."

 "It's Andrews again, sir... can I come in?"

 J sucked a breath through his nose. "Sure."

 Chris smiled apologetically and wandered in. "You've been busy."

 "I'm trying not to think much about it. What've you got?"

 "Oh... well, I'm not sure just yet... that is, we're not sure just
  yet."

 J narrowed his eyes. "You didn't come all the way down here to give
  me what you're not yet sure of. Tell me what you are sure of."

 Chris swallowed. "Well, it's just that... I've been working on the
  network with my unit, and we seem to have found something... strange."

 "Strange. Go on." J idly surmised that the reptilian Andrews
  probably had his own share of trouble with the uniform tailoring.

 He coughed. "Here, let me just show you..." Chris maneuvered around
  behind the desk to use Hamster's computer terminal. "This... is what we
  found." He punched a few keys, black onyx eyes reflecting the screen image.

 J peered over Chris's shoulder. A graphic representation of the
  Pacific Ocean, from a three-quarter bird's eye view was being drawn.
  Blinking crosshairs centered on one tiny section of the water, just a bit
  north of the equator: six north by one-twenty-five west. The middle of
  nowhere.

 "So what are you showing me, Lieutenant?"

 "Well, this..." Chris pointed at the crosshairs. "This is what our
  satellite scan of the Pacific looks like right now. But here's what it
  looked like..." He punched a few keys, and brought up a different screen.
  "... two hours ago."

 J leaned even farther in, around Chris's cranial spines. It was of
  the same section of ocean, with the same crosshairs... only they centered on
  a tiny black dot instead of just water. "What is that?"

 "That's what we don't know, sir. It only appears on our sensors for
  about a minute, then it disappears again, only to show up again later.
  There seems to be a pattern to when it shows up, too."

 J crossed one arm and brought the other up to his chin. "Stupid
  question: There's not supposed to be an island there, I take it."

 "No, sir."

 "Rrrrf..." J squinched his eyes shut and rubbed his hand across the
  top of his muzzle. "Anything about the island, other than it's there?"

 Chris shook his head. "Nothing yet, sir. The network's only
  partially up. We're still checking into it while we reconnect everything."

 J turned from the screen and wandered around the room a bit. "So
  for all we know, this could be a scan glitch... or someone's playing a joke
  on us."

 Chris grinned. "Some of the techs have been acting... well, a
  little goofy lately. It's possible one of them may have miscoded some of the
  software as a gag."

 J made a face. "If that's the case, we've got another reject to
  send to Steve Case..."

 Chris nodded. The two fell silent for a moment while J looked
  around the room. He had barely begun, and there wasn't much to put back.

 "Go back to your post, Lieutenant... I need to consult someone."

...

 J skidded to a stop just before the office door. This wasn't going
  to be simple, he knew. He took a few seconds to regain his composure.

 "Come in already, Fox. I know you're out there."

 He sighed at the voice from inside, muttering about not having been
  given enough time. He grasped the door frame and floated sideways into the
  office on a sparktrail.

 He gave a sickeningly sweet smile. "Thanks for the hospitality."

 Admiral CyberPyro showed no sign of amusement, not bothering to
  look up.  "You aren't in the South, Fox," he snapped under his breath, "and
  you're out of uniform again."

 J looked down at himself. Just a black 'Pinky and the Brain' t-
  shirt and faded green shorts looked back. Damn, knew he'd forgotten
  something. Hadn't even bothered to put shoes on.

 "Well, I just thought you might enjoy a change of pace, what with
  you seeing hundreds of Corps uniforms all the day long."

 CP had turned his face back towards his pre-meeting business two
  minutes ago. "Get to the point, J..."

 J swallowed. "Andrews just reported in to me. There's a an island
  in the Pacific Ocean that only shows up on sensors at certain intervals. I
  think it's worth checking out."

 CP let out a loud sigh, and leaned his head forward into his hands.
  "I'm hoping for your sake this isn't some idiotic prank, J. It's been a very
  long day."

 J dropped to both knees and mimicked CP's stance over the front of
  the desk. "Sorry. If this is a bad time, I can just go off on the recon
  mission myself and tell you what I find when I get back."

 CP reached forward, grabbing J's nose and pinching. Hard.

 "Heyyyy....ow!!" J retaliated by banging his fist on the desk.
  "Leggomynode!!"

 CP tilted his head and grinned lovingly. "Okay." He let go, sending
  J toppling backwards onto the floor. CP stood up and walked around the desk,
  looming overhead. "Now that I've made my point, I suppose now you won't be
  doing that toon schtick in my office."

 J rubbed his nose and sat up. "Ja, mein Fuhrer."

 CP grabbed J and shoved his back into the wall. "Care to repeat
  that little comment?"

 J sighed, and shook his head, more than a little embarrassed. "No
  sir."

 "I didn't think so." CP walked back to his chair and sat down. "I
  can tell you're curious, J, and to be honest, I'm curious too. However...
  you know as well as I do that we can't afford to jaunt off on reconnaissance
  right now."

 "Sir..." J tried to stand more at attention. "I've been thinking
  about this. From what we found out about the X'hirjq, there's nothing to
  suggest they took any prisoners. Yet we've got all these officers that we
  can't find in any place we knew of to look on this planet."

 CP closed his eyes. He knew what J was getting at. "I see... it
  would definitely be in our best interest to find out everything we can about
  this island."

 He looked up and met J's stare, and paused. "Is it possible,
  Admiral, that you're taking this a little too personally?"

 J held the stare, leaning forward to plant his hands on the desk.
  "You know me, man. If I am taking this personally, it's because I need to."

 CP nodded. "All right. Since you're the one who brought it up, why
  don't you go follow Andrews back to the network bridge to supervise. Monitor
  the island, and keep me posted."

 J brightened a little. "That works... hey, you're pretty easy to
  work with when you wanna be."

 CP didn't answer. J lingered uncomfortably, then hurried out.

-to be continued