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

 The day passed quickly as work on the network continued. The
  island, dubbed 'Pacifica' by the crew, now showed up on regular intervals
  that could be predicted. Many theories passed through the command bridge,
  but none could be certain. Finally...

 "We've got the last of the satellite scans on Pacifica, sir. All
  consistent. This is for real."

 J swallowed, and nodded. "Show me." He'd spent the day on the
  bridge as per Admiral CP's suggestion. It had been rather monotonous work...
  he wasn't sure whether to admire or feel sorry for the techs who did this
  all the time.

 The main monitor zoomed in on the island, with readings displayed
  on either side in red and green characters.

 "Have the machines been able to analyze everything yet?"

 "Yes sir. We've been monitoring the spot constantly since we first
  found it. Whatever's there, we've got it."

 J peered into the screen. "So tell me."

 "We have confirmation... Pacifica: Approximately 50 miles in
  diameter, unknown composition. Also confirmed... Pacifica is non-terrafirm."

 J squinted. "So there's nothing holding the thing up?"

 "Not that we can tell, sir. No volcanic activity has been known to
  exist in that region. Several structures of unnatural origin have been
  verified on the surface; also of unknown composition."

 A pause. "We also confirm: the island is populated by spounge
  minions."

 "WHAT?!" J bounded across to the terminal.

 "No mistake, sir... unless everything we know is wrong, several
  thousand spoungin are on Pacifica. There's more..."

 J leaned in, reading the screen. "Lyrans too. Damn..." He began to
  fidget a little. "We don't need this so soon after the lizards." He sighed.
  "What else?"

 "That's all we can be sure of, sir... other scans indicate other
  life signs, but they come up as blurs. There's nothing else to report."

 "Except for the dragon."

 "Yes sir. We've been able to scan the dragon readings more
  closely... It looks like Hamster. A *lot* like Hamster."

 "Whoof..." J paced, thinking. This couldn't be ignored, he knew.
  Except the timing sucked so bad. Success was sketchy at best, but... this is
  what they needed. This was a real indication that Pacifica might have
  answers to a lot of unanswered questions.

 "Keep watch on the island, and keep me posted." J was gone.

...

 J pulled his legs in and swung around the door frame into the
  office on a sparktrail, like he had done earlier that day. Landing on his
  feet, he considered the empty chair for a millisecond before flumping onto
  it. For some reason CP was out, which was strange...

 He smirked to himself, remembering his candor at the earlier
  meeting. The two Admirals had been bugging each other as much if not more
  than any other pair of officers in the Corps. If it wasn't officer
  assignment, it was scheduling, and if it wasn't scheduling, it was days off.
  Neither had been able to take a real day off since the invasion. Each had
  been keeping the other informed of goings-on through the JihadLinkers each
  was obligated to keep handy at all times. Both were stressed, both were
  edgy, and both were beginning to show the signs of mutual resentment.

 J exaggerated a shudder, remembering CP's reaction. It wasn't that
  he usually minded people burning their stares right through him as they
  sized him up, it was that CP could just as easily make the metaphor a
  reality. He'd likely come that close to provoking it, he realized, and
  wasn't all that excited to see CP again, especially after he'd been sitting
  in the guy's chair after waltzing into the office unannounced.

 "Hold up..." J grunted and stood up, suddenly feeling very stupid.
  "This is important. If he's not in, there's still one more I should talk
  to."

 After a short sprint down the hallway, J came to the large double
  doors of the Grand Admiral's office. He checked himself, this time in
  uniform.  After a knock and a muffled reply of "Come in," he opened the
  doors and stepped inside.

 A huge full moon shone through the open windows, and J realized how
  late it was. The lights were off, making the room difficult to negotiate
  without use of night vision. He staggered a little as he found his way from
  the entry to the massive desk at the other end of the office.

 "... Owsen?" J asked the desk as he reached it. The tall chair came
  into view behind the desk, turned around. He peered around either side from
  where he stood, but couldn't tell who was there, if anyone was.

 He looked at the moonlit desk. Owsen's Alpha and Omega pistols lay
  on one side, next to the Barney-Slayer. The sword took up most of the space
  on the suprisingly spare desktop. Their presence made J do a double take;
  these arms were never far from Owsen, but never like this, on display.

 Something was wrong. "Owsen. I need to see you."

 "Owsen's not here." The chair slowly swiveled on its casters around
  to face J, where CP sat grimly.

 J raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback. "You're not Owsen..."

 "And you're perceptive." CP showed no trace of a positive mood, if
  he actually had any. "He's not here, and we need to talk, you and I."

 J squinted, and noticed CP's uniform. The shoulder bars, which
  showed the ranks, were different. On the rare occasions when Owsen wore his
  uniform, these were the rank badges he wore. The ones reserved for Grand
  Admiral.

 J crossed his arms. "What's the meaning of this?"

 CP reached into his breast pocket and tossed the 2nd-in-Command
  patches onto the desk. "That's part of what I needed to talk to you about.
  Take a seat..."

-to be continued