'Colonel Jessup, you got to see this!'

The Lieutenant was part of the landing party making first contact. The drop-ship had landed five miles north-west of what command approximated was a residential district. The 'houses' were strange, elongated buildings, flat, and with no evidence of windows or ventilation.
Jessup had earmarked the closest of the buildings as the priority target, and with elegant precision the landing party had surrounded the structure within minutes of touchdown. Still, there were no signs of life. Not a single radio wave, not even a heat signature on the thermoscope. The Lieutenant's voice came over the radio. 'Green', thought Jessup. 'Young and green'.
'Colonel, we've got the target covered but there's no visible sign of an entrance.'
Jessup glanced over the monitors. Blue Delta had the north-east covered, and the rest of his team were moving into position. It was all going to plan, but something told him time was of the essence; it was the stillness, the complete absence of movement. He'd been at the helm of USS Indiana during the Siege of Ganymede, when there wasn't an inch of space that wasn't crowded with ships and stations and floating debris that could tear out your hull like a hot knife through butter, but none of that scared him. It was stillness that set his teeth on edge.
'Lieutenant, you are go for breach.'
'Copy that, Colonel.'
The grey blurs on the central monitor pulled back from the building. Jessup and the rest of the officers watched as two of the men separated from the group and, pausing by the building's south-west wall, they began to assemble some kind of structure. Upon completion they rejoined their unit, now gathered some twenty feet from the building and shielding themselves with their mobile kinetic barriers.
'Breach in three, two, one.'
The blast scrambled the radio. There was a bright flash, and Jessup's monitors went blank. There was sudden cause for concern among the officers, but Jessup remained impassive. Slowly, one by one, the monitors came back on line, just in time to see the landing party swarming the building. They disappeared into the gaping hole, from which was emanating a great plume of purple smoke. Jessup grabbed the mic.
'Lieutenant, report.' 
Silence.
Jessup watched the monitors. The Lieutenant's personal cam was showing no signal.
'Lieutenant, report in. Turn on your cam, goddamnit! We're blind up here.'
The radio crackled with static, and then:
'I read you, Colonel. Cam's out. We're working on it.'
'Describe it to me, Lieutenant.'
'We appear to be in the living quarters, Colonel. There's signs of recent activity. I see reading literature. Empty food and beverage containers. There's a sofa by the east wall, and what appears to be a coffee table, sir. What's that?' The Lieutenant began speaking off mic.
'Lieutenant?' asked Jessup.
'Sorry, sir. Private Mendez was just pointing out that due its size and location, perpendicular to the sofa, that the coffee table could technically be classified as a side table. I'll have logistics look into it.'
'Don't get sidetracked, Lieutenant. I've got the entire US Armada orbiting the stratosphere awaiting my go. Find what we're looking for and get the hell out of there.'
'Copy that, Colonel. We're moving further into the building now.'
An officer to Jessup's left identified the Lieutenant's heat signature on the central monitor.
'Looks like a utility room to my left' continued the Lieutenant. 'Sleeping quarters on my right. Room for approximately three to four subjects, currently empty. Wait.'
A few moments of silence ensued. When the Lieutenant spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.
'I think this is it, Colonel. This is what we're looking for.' 
Jessup took note of the Lieutenant's heart-rate monitor - his pulse had suddenly quickened.
'Do it' he ordered.
'Yes, sir,' came the answer, but Jessup noted the Lieutenant's momentary pause. 'Entering.' 
The Colonel bent his ear to the monitor's audio output. He thought he heard the sound of a door opening, and then footsteps. The Lieutenant's breathing was getting shallow. 
'What do you see, Lieutenant? Is it there?' 
The question hung in the air. He wasn't sure he wanted an answer. For a moment he envisioned himself ordering a full extraction, his men retreating to their ships, and blasting off in a billowing cloud of smoke and flame. He caught his reflection in the Lieutenant's blank cam monitor; his face looked pale and wane. Years of service weighed heavy on his shoulders, but like he always said, who else would they send? He touched his finger to the mic's receiver.
'Lieutenant?'   
The Lieutenant's reply was frantic.
'Colonel Jessup, you got to see this!'
Suddenly the Lieutenant's monitor sprung to life. The image flickered, then blazed into focus. There, in the center of frame, was what looked like a toilet. It was triangular in shape, but undoubtedly a waste receptacle of some kind. But it wasn't the toilet that caught Jessup's eye. It was the steel spindle attached to the wall next to it, upon which appeared to be a roll of genuine, three-ply toilet paper. 
'Colonel, are you getting this?' asked the Lieutenant. He crouched by the toilet, and whilst clearly apprehensive, he tugged at the loose sheet. It began to unspool - the Lieutenant lurched back, his camera flicking about the room.
Jessup hunched over the monitor, his hands gripping the corners of his desk with white-knuckled intensity.
'Lieutenant, confirm what I'm seeing' he ordered.
'Colonel, I'm not so sure about this. Can't we just-' 
'Lieutenant! Confirm!' he shouted.
The radio went static, and after what seemed like an eternity the Lieutenant spoke, his voice tainted with an air of resignation.
'Colonel,' he breathed, 'I can confirm that the toilet paper orientation is... under.'
Jessup sighed, and his head lolled on his shoulders. The other officers daren't move. All eyes were on Jessup. With a sudden burst of ferocity he tore the central monitor from its moorings and threw it across the bridge. Sparks flew from the control panel. Officers leaped for cover. The alarm sounded, and the automated fire prevention system began lacing the air with a nullifying agent.
    'It's Ganymede all over again' he muttered.
Jessup sank into his chair and closed his eyes, ignoring the chaos. He reached down and retrieved the microphone from the floor. His finger hovered over the button. 
'This is Colonel Jessup to all teams. This is a Code Blue, I'm ordering an immediate extraction of all personnel.'
'But Colonel, we can teach them! We can show them the right-' 
Jessup cut him off.
'No, Lieutenant. We take off, and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.'