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Chapter Text

On a bitter cold, Antarctic day the snowy wasteland is sprinkled with penguins all preparing for their annual migration. Just as they did every year the mother penguins were leaving their families behind in search of food for their newly hatched chicks. Many of the other penguins were there to wish them well, as they prepared for their own migration across the frigid ice.

Our story starts with a particular penguin couple. An anxious papa penguin pedals his feet back and forth against the sparkling ice. In fact, the repetitive moment is starting to turn the ice into somewhat of a slush. The hardy, opaque egg weighs heavily on his feet and mind. He looks up at his partner, a beautiful female penguin, and this helps to get his mind off of this tremendous responsibility for at least a minute. How he wishes she didn’t have to leave, even if it was just for a few months.

However, his concentration is broken with the crackling of the egg.

“Wah!” He instantly recoils. Not only is the shell beginning to chip off, it’s starting to wiggle and sway vigorously back and forth. It’s almost as if a tiny alien is going to come bursting out at any second. “Uh… honey, it’s moving!”

The cracking continues.

“What do I do?” His breathing turns into panting.

The mother penguin rolls her eyes and shakes her head but does so in a loving way. That is typical of her mate to panic in unknown situations. “Relax, this is completely normal.” She puts a flipper on his shoulder. Good thing she had spoken with other mothers prior to this to get their input. He was freaking out.

“Is it?” He looks up at her with trepidation in his eyes.

Her face and voice fall flat. “I mean – it’s just your son.” He was really going to have to get comfortable with this parenting stuff sooner or later.

He begins to ruminate aloud, feeding into his own downward spiral. “But what if the egg got switched somehow? I could’ve been sitting on a skua egg this whole time! And I wouldn’t even know it!”

“You’re ridiculous.” She was the one going out to sea for months and he’s struggling over hatching an egg.

Suddenly an orange beak pokes its way out of the shell. Then, an eye hole emerges. A big blue eye peaks out at the world for the first time. The process unfolds, as the baby is eager to get out into the world it appears. In no time, the hatchling is using his little feet and flippers to fully escape from his shell.

What emerges is a little, fluffy penguin chick with a rather flat head. No longer having protection from his shell, the sun is bright and painful to his new eyes. He blinks a few times to adjust to this new world he has broken his way into. Once the brightness is no longer an obstacle, he looks up at the penguins all around him. He tilts his head and his beak hangs open as he tries to make sense of where he is. However, as soon as his gaze meets his mother’s kind smile, he smiles widely back up at her.

Her attention shifts to her mate. “See,” she elbows him, “and not even an ounce of skua.”

“Okay,” he’s feeling a bit more relieved, as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that his son has just hatched. “So, what should we name him?”

Just as the conversation is about to begin, a nearby boat’s horn roars throughout the penguin colony. Although ships are nothing new to the penguins, especially those of tourists and camera crews, just about everyone of them on the shore jumps at the sound. The only one who is unperturbed appears to be the little penguin at their feet. Instead, he giggles in delight. His neck strains as he goes in search for the source of the sound.

His mother laughs and shrugs. “I guess he likes the boats.”

“That’s it!” It seems his father has had an epiphany.

“What?” She’s not following.

“We’ll name him Skipper!” He explains. “You know, like the captain of a ship?”

Without hesitation, she smiles warmly and bends down to get a better look at her bundle of joy. She extends her flippers forward, inviting him in for a hug. The true test will be whether or not he likes his new name. “Hi there, Skipper!”

Immediately, Skipper waddles off of his dad’s feet and towards his mother’s flippers. He’s surprisingly a good waddler, considering these are his first steps. He only stumbles a few times. Once he reaches her flippers, he tries to climb his way up. He feels safe in her flippers.

“Oh, what a strong little guy you are!” She cheers, while holding her son. He clings onto her, with his flippers wrapped over her shoulders and his head resting on her. It was rather impressive he was able to do that much already.

She then turns to her partner. “You want to hold him?”

With this, Skipper looks up and reaches his flippers out to his dad. He smiles and giggles at the much larger penguin.

“Eh, I’m good.” He backs off sheepishly. The odds of dropping and breaking the chick somehow weighed on his mind. “So… how long do you think you’ll be gone?”

She smiles reassuringly at her predictable mate. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Sticking Skipper out in front of her, she speaks to him while gently placing him back on his father’s feet. “Don’t you give your father too much of a hard time while I’m gone, mister.”

She playfully waggles her flipper at her son, which emits a giggle from him in return.

As she waddles away with the group, she turns. Cupping her flippers around her beak, she calls back to Skipper’s dad. “I’ll be back with the others!” She promises.

The months pass, as Skipper’s dad trudges through blizzard after blizzard, with the little one at his feet. The two struggle for warmth during those harsh months. Still, the migration of penguins continues across the tundra. One would think that those storms would be when it would be the most difficult to maintain hope. But that was unfortunately not the case.

By the time spring rolls around, the mother penguins have already begun returning in mass numbers. Each day, Skipper and his father eagerly await the return of his mother. With the sound of footsteps on the shore, Skipper leaps up and smiles with anticipation. He watches other moms return to their happily awaiting families. They bring their chicks in for big, tight hugs and give them lots of food. However, days pass. And they turn into weeks. Skipper feels the wind’s chill even more deeply than he had in the winter months. With every other hatchling he witnesses getting fed, his stomach growls more aggressively. His smile begins to fade and his energy wanes. The last of the mothers return and yet his mom is nowhere to be seen.

“When’s mommy coming back?” His big eyes look up at his dad.

Instead of looking at him, his father continues peering out towards the endless ocean. “She’s not.” He states bitterly.

“But all the other mommies came back –” This doesn’t make sense to Skipper.

The larger penguin can’t take much more of this. He looks down and snips. “She’s gone, Skipper! And she’s never coming back.” What more did the kid want to hear? It’s his fault she left in the first place.

Tears fill Skipper’s eyes. What is happening? Where did she go? She has to come back. Everyone else did. Why doesn’t he get to have a mom? What’s going to happen to him now?

“But wh – ?” Skipper begins, as he leans into his father’s stomach for comfort.

“This is a cold, cruel world we’re living in, Skipper.” He doesn’t even look down at his son. His words are void of comfort and any emotion other than bitterness. Any warmth Skipper is searching for is absent. “I want you to remember that.”

And with that, Skipper watches his dad walk away.

“No!” Skipper cries. Once he realizes what’s happening, he begins taking off on his little feet. However, his strides are no match for such a larger penguin. Despite all his stumbling and slipping across the ice, he is desperate to catch up to his father, to not be left alone. “Please, don’t go! Please don’t leave!”

Tears run down his cheeks as he is left all alone. His chest heaves with each sob. He can only look around at all the happy, reunited families. Why can’t that be him?

He balls up a flipper and rubs the tears from his eyes. His beak begins to run and he sniffles in the cold. While he has gotten himself riled up and fretting, he doesn’t notice the skuas circling overheard.

“Ooh! Abandoned penguin chick at 2 ‘o’ clock.” One of the two skuas reports. He licks his beak at the sight. Unguarded chicks are easy for the taking. It’s practically a free meal.

“Mm, my favorite! And just in time for lunch.” The second skua concurs.

In his distraction, it isn’t difficult for them to catch Skipper by surprise. They get the drop on him, swooping down as he barely has time to reaction with a startled jump. The first skua grabs ahold of Skipper’s leg and drags him in. Skipper falls belly-first to the snow below.

“Hey!” Skipper squirms, kicks, and resists as best he can. But with his leg being pinned down, there’s not much he can do.

“First chick of the season.” The second skua inspects him and takes a good sniff. “Mm, nice and fresh! He’ll be good eats.”

“Hey let me go!” Skipper demands, continuing to fight aimlessly.

The second skua pauses. This causes the skua at his leg to tilt his head in confusion. “You know, since you asked…” the second skua bends down to look Skipper in the eyes and smiles cheekily. “Nope!”

This evokes a laugh from the other skua.

As the skua opens his beak to begin munching on Skipper’s head, Skipper wagers this will be the end of his short, unfortunate life. He winces and buries his head in his flippers.

But what happens next surprises him. He doesn’t feel a sharp beak biting down on him. In fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything. It even seems like his foot is now free to move around. That’s when he hears the voice of a stranger. It sounds harsh and even scary.

“Hey! Shoo! Get out of here! You scavenging vermin!”

It’s followed by the screeching of the skuas and the flapping of wings. Whatever is going on beyond his flippers, it doesn’t sound good. He figures he doesn’t want to be a part of it, so the best thing he can do is stay put. Suddenly the noise comes to an end. That’s when he hears heavy footsteps approaching. He shudders.

Little Skipper looks up from his flippers. Almost afraid to see what is scary enough to fend off the predators, he is cautious. But he looks up to see another bird like him. In the distance, the skuas are disgruntledly flying off empty-taloned. How come this bird didn’t try and eat him too? As Skipper measures up the stranger, he determines that he is quite larger than him yet he’s not big enough to be a dad.

The adolescent penguin extends his flipper down to Skipper. “Hey, you okay, kid?”

Skipper says nothing. He stares up at him in awe. Who is this stranger? How does he have the power to fight off those predators? Is he hungry too?

“You know how to speak?”

Skipper nods, still wide-eyed.

“Here, take my flipper.” Sam emphasizes the flipper he has extended towards the little one.

Skipper holds on with both flippers and clumsily gets to his feet. Once he has steadied himself, he isn’t sure what he should do with the stranger’s flipper. It feels so soft and warm, so instinctively, he leans his head on it. Like a fluffy, feathery pillow Sam is comfy enough for Skipper to fall asleep on… or at least let out a yawn.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Skipper is just too plain exhausted. His small, little body had endured a lot of excitement, or more like disappointment, during his first few moths of living. He doesn’t say anything, as his body lures him into a slumber.

“Hey kid,” Sam shakes his flipper. This jostles Skipper’s tiny head. “I want to make sure you’re all right. I need you to answer me.”

What was that word his father used? The boat horn, his mom. What did they call him? “Skipper,” the little penguin yawns weakly.

“Okay, Skipper. I’m Sam.” Sam takes his flipper back. Skipper nearly topples over at its removal.

Then, Sam grabs ahold of Skipper’s cheeks. He tilts Skipper’s head so it bobbles to the left, then to the right. Skipper’s tongue sticks out in the process. Sam stares at the hatchling’s pupils. “You don’t seem to be in shock. You should be all good then.”

Just then, the large penguin turns away. What a strange kid. He could barely tell him what his name was. Either way, he’ll be free to see another day and go find his parents. Those skuas can be treacherous. Sam begins to head back inside what he considers to be home.

Not too far from where the skirmish took place is the final resting place for a massive, beached ship. The vessel looks to have been abandoned for several years. The mast is completely jammed into an ice cliff. In fact, the tallest parts of the ship have found themselves to be frozen solid in the ice. This artifact from the human sailors is lit aglow inside by lanterns that tint the windows a warm orange hue, against the darkening evening.

Sam waddles his way back in. He reflects to himself, questioning if maybe it’s time he starts minding his own business. But he couldn’t help himself from intervening this time. Well, he never can admittedly. Upon hearing the hatchling’s cries and witnessing the skua attack from his windows, he simply couldn’t stop himself from jumping in.

Just as he goes to close the makeshift door behind him, he hears scratching on the ice behind him. The light scratching can only be attributed to that of little webbed feet. Sam turns around to find the same, little penguin looking up at him. What did this kid want?

Honestly, Skipper didn’t know what he wanted. Maybe some warmth and a meal to start. From what he observed from the other birds, it looked like they all received food from a larger bird. Was this his larger bird? And I mean, this one hadn’t tried to eat him like the skuas had. That was at least something.

“Do you need something?” Sam asks.

The little penguin smiles at him and nods.

“Where’re your parents?” Sam questions further. It’s like pulling teeth with this kid.

Skipper just looks around and shrugs.

“Your daddy?” Sam asked further, trying to use language the kid will understand.

“He left.”

“Okay, your mommy?”

“She didn’t come back.”

“Oh,” Sam realizes in this instant that little Skipper has no one. He has been abandoned by his father and his mother well… smart money is she didn’t make it back from fishing. A seal or orca is likely to thank for that. The rest is will likely remain a mystery.

“Are you hungry? Do you need some food?” Sam asks clearly.

Skipper nods happily. Finally! This guy gets it. The little penguin, having not yet been versed in social decorum, excitedly squeezes his way in, past Sam. He shimmies his little, pudgy body in, as Sam watches with dismay.

Skipper is like a penguin in a fish market. He looks around, touching and picking up all of the human stuff. It’s practically a treasure trove for the curious. There’s a kaleidoscope Skipper picks up and holds to his eye. Getting bored of that, he tosses it and instantly is mesmerized by a periscope. He runs towards it, giggling. Grabbing onto the eyepiece, which only shows ice at this point, he begins swinging around like it's a merry-go-round.

“Uh, okay. Skipper, right?” Sam tries to get the kid’s attention as he has already taken the liberty to go rummaging through his things. He’s now suddenly full of energy. This can’t be the same hatchling that was resting on his flipper earlier.

“Wee!” The little penguin keeps swinging.

Sam holds out a flipper to stop him. The little penguin comes to a halt. “Listen, don’t get too comfy here, okay? I can’t be looking after a chick. In fact, I’m not that old myself.”

Skipper tilts his head to listen. But gets distracted by the stash of fish in the corner. He points, as if entranced. “Can I have some?”

“Uh, yeah… uh, sure.” Sam scratches the back of his head. He is still trying to wrap his head around just what is going on.

Skipper rushes over and grabs a big fish. Shoving it in his beak, he tries to gulp it down but struggles. For some reason, he just can’t get it down. Not just that, he even starts gagging.

Sam just can’t watch the little guy choke. “Woah, woah, woah!” He goes running over. Snatching the fish from Skipper’s gullet, he is met with pleading eyes. “Listen, baby penguins can’t eat whole fish. It’s gotta be… uh, you know smooshed up.”

Next thing Sam knows, he’s putting some krill and fish in the blender. Skipper’s eyes light up as he watches it twirl and spin around. He’s never seen anything like it. The whole fish is subsequently turned to mush. Once the mixing stops, Skipper eagerly reaches his flipper in. However, Sam bats it away. He can’t have the kid reaching in the blender.

After Sam fills a cup with the fish slushie, Skipper drinks it down happily. His first meal is a good one and leaves him with a warm, full belly. Shortly after Skipper gulps down his dinner, his eyelids grow heavy.

“Getting sleepy?” Sam asks the obvious.

Skipper balls up his flipper in front of his beak and lets out a giant yawn.

Sam looks out the window. It is way too late to send the little penguin all out on his own. I guess it’s fine if he stays the night. There’s plenty of room for him, so long as he doesn’t touch anymore of Sam’s stuff. Sam sighs.

“Sam?” A little voice asks.

“Yeah, kid?” Sam scoops the tired, little penguin up in his flippers. For a hatchling, he sure is heavy.

“Why did you help me?” Skipper asks as he is gently placed in a cot beside the wall.

“Well, because I’m a penguin. We look out for each other. Otherwise, none of us would survive.” Sam tucks Skipper in. “It’s the penguin credo: never swim alone.”

“Oh.” Skipper’s eyes widen as if he understands.

Sam turns to get to his own cot, when Skipper speaks again.

“Am I a penguin too?” Skipper kicks his stubby feet under the covers. Ugh, of all the time for this kid to start talking.

“Yes,” Sam sighs, stopping midway between Skipper’s cot and his own which is across the room.

“Cool,” Skipper awes and stares up at the ceiling. Now it seems like a penguin is the coolest thing to be.

Soon Sam blows out the last lantern but leaves the fireplace on for warmth. Looks like he will finally be getting some shuteye. He gets under his cozy covers and finally rests his eyes. That kid sure was something but now was time for bed. He could worry about sending the hatchling off in the morning. Now, it was time to relax. He closes his eyes.

“Sam?” The little voice calls out once more. When Sam doesn’t respond at first, Skipper calls again. “Sam?” Maybe Sam had left him too.

“What is it, Skipper?” Sam groans, rolling over begrudgingly.

“Why didn’t my dad want me? Am I bad?”

Sam pauses. He certainly wasn’t expecting this question. He sighs and tries to formulate the right answer before the kid calls out his name again.

“Sam?” Skipper calls again, just to make sure he’s still there.

“No. No, kid, you’re not bad. Your dad just – your dad probably just thought you were big enough to handle yourself. It happens to all of us eventually. You’ve got to learn to stand up on your own feet.”

“Oh.”

Sam suddenly feels bad for the little guy. He didn’t know what to tell him, so he just made that up. There even is a twinge of guilt from losing his patience with the kid. Of course, he would be anxious after losing both his parents. “Are you warm enough? Have enough blankets?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, but don’t get too comfortable. This isn’t going to be a long-term arrangement.”

Several years later, Sam is asleep on his cot. It is late morning, but the penguin loves his sleep. Over the years, he had grown quite a bit and has nearly reached full adulthood. However, his years of experience haven’t prepared him for the ambush that was just about to occur.

“Sam!” Skipper, now quite older himself, leaps on top of the sleeping penguin. “Wake up, today’s the day!”

Skipper is in his early adolescence at this point. He’s nearly the size of Sam, but a bit shorter. Clearly, he still seems full of energy.

“How about five more minutes, Skipper?” Sam groans. “Then we’ll go.”

“C’mon, Sam,” Skipper protests. He slides down from off of Sam, as the older penguins rolls over in the opposite direction. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“I’m sure we won’t. Just give me time to catch a few more winks.” Sam groggily demands.

Skipper’s face drops. He surely didn’t want to miss out on the excitement of today. This was his one and possibly only chance to meet his hero – Buck Rockgut. The penguin was a legend. He protects penguin-kind from the Red Squirrel and any other evildoers. Skipper was chomping at the bit to meet him in-person. He had so many questions. What would such a hero even look like up close? What would it be like to stand so close to greatness? In fact, he and Sam were both big fans. Sam was the one who introduced him to all of the stories. The chronicles of Buck Rockgut were vast and inspiring to Skipper, as he grew up. Tales like those made him proud to be a penguin. If Rockgut could do all those things, surely, he could too one day.

“Well, Sam…” Skipper paces on over to the opposite side of the cot. “I have ways of making you get out of bed.” He teases with a faux-menacing tone.

Sam smirks and opens one eye. His younger brother sticks his flipper in his own beak, threatening a wet willy. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” Skipper laughs maniacally.

Just then, Sam springs up. He lunges at Skipper, taking the young penguin by surprise. Not expecting such a sudden change of pace from Sam, Skipper is taken off guard. Sam deemed it his job as the elder of the two to remind Skipper that he too had a few tricks up his flipper. Despite Skipper’s struggle, Sam overpowers him quite easily. He puts the rambunctious penguin in a headlock.

“Ah, sneak attack!” Skipper exclaims.

Sam ruffles the feathers on Skipper’s head. “Had enough?” He chuckles.

“Nope,” Skipper grunts, resisting with all his might.

“Say uncle.” Sam goads.

“Never!” Skipper laughs.

The brothers could go back and forth for hours, provoking and teasing one another. However, the sound of a ship’s horn immediately gets their attention. They freeze. Skipper looks up from the headlock and Sam looks down at him.

Sam, without warning, releases his grip. This sends Skipper to the floor with a thud. Placing his flippers on his hips, he ignores his younger brother. “That must be him.”

“Huh?” Skipper lifts his face from the floor.

“C’mon, what are you laying around for?” Sam teases, before running for the door.

“Hey!” Skipper leaps to his feet. “Wait up!”

They emerge into the sunlight to see a massive crowd of penguins at the edge of the ice. A boat has docked and a long, wooden walkway is released over the edge. Rockgut himself hasn’t quite appeared just yet, but the build-up is a spectacle of itself.

“Aw, and I wanted to get a good seat.” Skipper whines.

“We will,” Sam looks over the crowd, with a pair of binoculars. “Follow me, kid.”

They belly slide their way to the crowd, just as Rockgut is making his way to land. Several other penguins, who appear to work for him, steady the walkway for him, so there’s no chance of him falling. Instead, however, Rockgut leaps over the side of the boat. Just to show off, he does a flip in the air and lands perfectly in fighting stance. The crowd breaks out into cheers, as the assistants groan as they roll the walkway back up.

Having finally reached the queue, Skipper and Sam stand towards the back. Skipper strains his neck every which way to get a good view of his hero. At one point, he stands on his tippy toes.

“Want to get on my shoulders?” Sam whispers his taunt. Height was always something that Skipper was self-conscious of. He just couldn’t resist getting another jab in at his little brother.

In response, Skipper slaps Sam’s shoulder. It really packed a punch but Sam laughs it off as he rubs his now-sore appendage.

“You want to see him up close?” Sam asks. Sam does really want his brother to have this moment. It means a lot to him and he can see that. Besides, he does feel a tiny bit bad for oversleeping. Though he’d never give Skipper the satisfaction of being right. When the kid’s right, he never lets it go.

Skipper nods vigorously. Of course, he wants to meet his hero up close. That’s the reason they came today. At the time, it was the thing he wanted most in the world. The chance to meet his idol. Wow. Skipper could hardly fathom it. What all could he learn? Well, not a lot from this far back. He can hardly hear what Rockgut is saying. But if he could just get close enough, maybe, just maybe some of Rockgut’s courage and strength would even rub off on him a little bit.

Just then, Skipper turns to see Sam is already stepping through the crowd. He follows as to not get left behind. What is he doing? Slowly, Sam weaves in and out of penguins and Skipper clumsily follows. With every disgruntled noise arising from the other penguins, Skipper offers an apology. However, he can also hear Rockgut better now.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy. That squirrel sure can be a flipperful.” Rockgut remarks, in response to a question that had been asked.

“Huh? Oh, these old nuts and bolts?” Rockgut pats the ship. “Hijacked it from a group of tourists. Easy peasy.”

Skipper catches bits and pieces of the conversation, as he is also concentrating on keeping up with Sam. They are getting closer to the front. Just as soon as he catches a glimpse of Rockgut’s flathead, he feels a forceful flipper on his back.

The flipper begins shoving him forward, through the front of the crowd. Oh no, oh no. He’s going to the very front! Sure, he wanted to see Rockgut but right up front? He doesn’t want to be front and center. After ploughing through all but the very front penguins, there is a pause. Out of nowhere, this is a huge push that sends him stumbling right through the very front row.

Haphazardly landing on his feet, he turns back to find the source of the shoving. Sam stands back, proud of his handiwork. Literally. Skipper looks back and glares, briefly sticking out his tongue. His pettiness gets the better of him, as he forgets where he has found himself.

When he turns his head, he is staring directly up at the one and only Buck Rockgut. The penguin, larger than life, stares back down at him with skeptical eyes. What has Sam gotten him into?

“Uh…” Skipper starts chuckling nervously. He had a long list of questions he wanted to ask him. In fact, he had rattled them all off to Sam to practice. Several times. Now that he was actually in front of him, he was rendered speechless.

“Where’s the fire, powder puff?” Rockgut huffs.

“Huh?” Skipper is too stunned to speak. “Oh, uh, I just wanted to say uh… you’re my hero. And someday, I want to be just like you!” He chuckles it off nervously, trying to recover his pride.

“Oh, well thanks. Keep your head up, kid, and your earholes open. There’s always room for more penguin agents out there,” he puffs his chest out. Then, subsequently lowers. He hunches his back and whispers to Skipper, as his eyes suspiciously scan the crowd, “especially with the Red Squirrel still at large.”

Skipper gasps in amazement. Had his hero just talked directly to him? This was all the inspiration he needed to follow his dreams… and maintain a healthy level of paranoia against the Red Squirrel. That was the message, right?

Rockgut continues recounting all of his triumphs, with perhaps a bit of embellishment. Skipper’s eyes light up with each story. The wide smile never leaves his beak throughout Rockgut’s entire appearance. He nods vigorously, leaning in to take in all of what Rockgut is saying. From behind him, Sam finds amusement out of his younger brother’s excitement. Something about seeing him happy made Sam proud. Even though he never intended to look after Skipper, small things like this let him know that he was doing it at least somewhat right.

After Rockgut hopped back in his boat, the crowd dispersed. Skipper and Sam began walking towards the shore. The younger of the two is all smiles.

“So, was he everything you dreamed he would be?” Sam chuckled, filling in the silence.

“And more! He’s a complete legend! The greatest hero penguinkind has ever seen! I mean, how can you top that?” Skipper spouts then tries to cool his excitement back to his regular swagger.

The two sit down as Sam whips out a large, couple of fish he had brought with them. Sometimes they’d have lunch overlooking the water. In Antarctica, that was really one of the more exciting things to do… and that was saying something. Aside from storytelling and fiddling with the human artifacts, the brothers often found themselves bored with the provincial lifestyle that the frozen tundra had to offer.

“Sam, you ever think of leaving this place?” Skipper asks.

“Are you kidding?” Sam laughs. “You think I like living on this floating popsicle? Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Well, just thought I’d ask.” Skipper shrugs and goes back to eating his fish. Clearly, he hopes this conversation continues on its own. Specifically, he’d like it to go in a certain direction.

“I mean, everyone here seems so satisfied with the domestic life. Settling down with a partner, raising a couple chicks, and then … I don’t know, becoming seal chow.” Sam shrugs. “That’s just never been for me.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Skipper laughs. They had often complained about life in the Antarctic.

“I mean but where would we go? We can’t just leave.” Sam negates.

“Of course, we can!” Skipper leaps to his feet. He sure is fired up after the events of the day. “Rockgut leaned in and told me himself, the world needs more penguin agents! You know, exploring the world for threats to penguinkind.” He does a slow motion move with his flippers.

“Exploring would be nice. You know, getting the chance to actually live a little and see the world beyond the tundra would be something.” Sam raises a brow and smirks. “Fighting off foes could be pretty exciting too.

“Exactly!” Skipper is nearly hopping. His eyes are wide.

“But we’re still stuck at the how. We have no means off leaving.” Sam frowns.

“Funny you mention that. What are we always annoyingly awoken by every other morning?” Skipper rolls his eyes knowingly. There’s no way Sam can refuse this plan. It’s ingenious! Plus, it’s all he’s thought about since meeting Rockgut.

Sam groans. “The endless hordes of human tourists, snapping photos and guffawing at us penguins?”

“Correct-a-mundo!” Skipper places a flipper on Sam’s shoulder. His opposite flipper rests promptly on his hip. “They take their pictures and pose with the penguins to their hearts’ content, while we sneak on the boat and hitch a ride!”

“But won’t they notice a couple of penguins stowing away on their ship?” Sam is skeptical.

“Well, not if we hide.” Skipper feels as though he’s stating the obvious. “We hitch a ride and see where it goes. And that, my friend, is how you start a worldwide adventure.”

“I don’t know, Skipper.” Sam hesitates. He really wants to but leaving behind everything he’s known; it’s asking a lot. Plus, it’s a big risk. What if one of them gets injured or worse?

“C’mon, Sam! Where’s your sense of adventure?” Skipper is practically pleading. “The way I see it,” he wraps his flipper around Sam. “As long as the two of us stick together, there’s nothing we can’t handle. What’s that penguin credo mean again?”

“Never swim alone.” Sam rolls his eyes but smiles. The kid was persuasive. “Fine, but we have to stay together.”

“Deal!” They seal it with a high one.

Skipper plops back down. Having successfully convinced Sam to join him on this adventure was exhilarating. What a perfect day. He begins to happily kick his legs, tracing the water with his heels and toes. “You know, if I was ever to have a kid. I think I’d name him Private.”

“Private? Like the military rank?” Sam laughs at the ridiculous thought of his younger brother ever being a father. It was almost as absurd as he himself settling down.

Skipper is trying to get his point across, but it seems like Sam isn’t buying it. And as a result, like always, he doubles down. “Yeah, I’ve thought a lot about this. It’s kinda like the Skipper version of naming your kid junior.”

“Oh, Skipper.” Sam shakes his head. It was never a dull moment with that one. Certainly, this trip would be an interesting one. And it would prove to be so. After leaving the shore, their lives and brotherhood would never be the same.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

Sam and Skipper officially set off for their quest for finding glory and adventure. Sneaking aboard the tourist’s vessel proved to be no big hurdle. The humans were much too distracted with the local wildlife to notice a couple of them stowing away on their ship. Skipper secured the pair a nice spot at the stern of the deck. They nestled themselves away between crates filled with supplies, sheltered by a large tarp. Seeing as this was likely the peak of their cruise, the crew likely wouldn’t go digging too deeply through the stock.

Prior to leaving their home in Antarctica, Sam had gathered up all of the human currency he could find in the ship and packed it in a sack. He was relieved to finally drop the heavy thing on the boat’s deck. After all, the bag was jam-packed. It had to last them throughout their entire trip. Skipper had suggested that they just take whatever they wanted, since they would be going unnoticed by the humans anyway. And for that, Sam had delved out a grim look. He had raised the youngster better than that. Since then, Skipper’s stance on the subject had shaped up.

Many hours had passed since they boarded. After about the first or second hour, their vigilance has decreased quite significantly. If the humans hadn’t detected them yet, it was highly unlikely that they would notice them for the remaining stretch of the trip. The two would often peak their heads out to get a view of the new world that was opening up to them. At first, they passed glaciers and ice floes, which were nothing new. Then, it was primarily open sea. Occasionally, they would catch a glimpse at a far-off tropical island. The world was becoming a much warmer place… literally.

However, as the sun set, they took shifts keeping watch. Even during his turn to sleep, Sam found it difficult to drift off. There was just so much going on around him. This was their first sneak peak of what was to come in their journey. Once it was Skipper’s turn, however, Skipper was the complete opposite. As soon as Sam relieved him from his duty, Skipper was out like a light.

As Sam looks down to find Skipper curled up, his memories take him back to those first few months they had together. One night in particular, Sam was tucking Skipper in, and preparing his nightly Buck Rockgut bedtime story. Skipper eagerly hopped under the covers and got himself comfy. He rested his fuzzy, little head up against Sam. The older penguin had propped himself up against the wall, sitting on the edge of the cot. He rested his flipper on Skipper’s shoulder, as the little one showed no intentions of getting up from his comfy position. Sam sure made a good pillow.

“Sam,” Skipper looks up at him, interrupting the story before it even began.

“Yeah, kid?” Sam responds.

“Are you going to leave me too someday?” Skipper had admittedly had many nightmares about being left behind, since the day his dad abandoned him.

“Nah,” Sam jostles Skipper’s shoulder playfully. “You remember the penguin credo, right?”

“Never swim alone!” Skipper cheers, raising his flippers.

“Uh huh,” Sam nods. This kid sure had a good memory - at least about things he was passionate about. Seeing him get excited about the penguin credo always made Sam chuckle. Surely being a penguin had its difficulties. It was no easy task to even make it to adulthood, but the credo and Rockgut gave Skipper something to be proud of.

“So you’ll never leave me?” Skipper tilts his head to look up at Sam. He wants his brother to promise. He places a flipper on Sam’s belly, expressing his urgency. “Never ever?”

Sam laughs, “never ever.”

Skipper lets out a yawn and plops his head back down into Sam’s hip. It sends an unexpected jolt through the larger penguin. “I love you, Sam.” He smiles, already drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too, kid.” Sam gently scruffles the feathers on the sleeping penguin’s head.

Just as the sun was coming up, Sam caught sight of the glimmering giants that were buildings. He had to shield his gaze at first. Then, his eyes fell towards the beach below. He had never seen a shore like it. Instead of pebbles and muck or just plain ice, the shore was adorned with dark yellow sand. The blueness of the water was much richer back home, but he couldn’t get over the beauty of the city and beach that he was now gazing upon.

“Hey, hey, Skipper.” Sam slaps Skipper’s shoulder to awake him.

“Huh?” Skipper sits up groggily.

“Come look at this,” Sam says, already wandering over to the side of the boat. “I think we found our first stop.”

It was their first day in the United States and the day Skipper would encounter his first love. They waited for the humans to all exit the ship, before sneaking over the side themselves. Sam and Skipper spent quite some time examining the beach that morning. They were amazed by the sand. It was sort of like snow - the way it could be molded and shaped. However, it was much grainier and coarse on the flippers. Despite the morning chill, it was already several times hotter there than back home. Skipper proved to be quite fond of the heat. However, by midday, when they were searching the city, it had gotten to be a little too hot for them. They weren’t quite accustomed to the heat, obviously.

They searched the city, taking everything in. There were so many sights, sounds, and smells. Some for better or worse. While they were excited to be in the city, they were in desperate search for something to drink or at least cool them down.

That’s when something across the street caught Skipper’s eye. A portly mustached man had some sort of wheeled vehicle he was pushing. Atop it had an umbrella to shade the contents of whatever this mechanism had concealed inside. Below the umbrella, set an array of bottles, they were filled to the brim with all different colors. There were even some that Skipper had never seen before. His eyes glowed at the sight.

“Ooh, hoo, hoo!” Skipper’s eyes widened, “What is that?”

“Looks like some human pushing a cart. Of what I don’t know.” Sam investigates.

Another human, this one was a woman in a suit, approaches the cart. She appears to be speaking with the man and hands him some cash. Skipper is zoned in on this process, studying them carefully. It appears to be some sort of exchange. For what he still doesn’t know.

Then, the man at the cart takes a cone-shaped piece of paper and scoops it into the cart. When he lifts it up, it has a mound of ice on top. He then goes to work, grabbing a bottle of this sort of purple elixir, and pours some of its contents atop the ice.

“It’s like snow! But colorful! Look at all those different colors, Sam!” Skipper is astonished.

“Never seen snow make that shape before.” Sam tilts his head.

The man at the cart hands his customer the cone with a dome shape coming out of the top. Whatever is inside the wrapper looks just like snow but it’s different, drastically so. It’s purple. Skipper had never seen snow that color. Surely he had seen it yellow, but he always avoided that. And for good reason.

As the customer walks away, the man calls out “Snow cones! Get your snow cones here!”

“Sounds like they’re called snow cones.” Sam repeats.

“We gotta get one!” Skipper claps his flippers together.

Sam is taken aback. Skipper’s excitement over these snow cones were nearly rivaling the excitement he displayed when Rockgut visited. The kid had said it himself, it just looked like colorful snow. How good could it really be? Would it be worth chasing after this guy, spending some of their limited money, and running the risk of getting caught?

“We’ll see if he gives us the chance to go unnoticed. How about that?” Sam offers.

Skipper is unenthused with this idea. He goes back to watching the snow cone man, pushing his cart. How he longs to get at least one taste of that colorful, frozen goodness.

Just then, the man goes about his way, whistling. Skipper follows him, diving from one bush to the next to stay undercover. Sam struggles to keep up. The man then turns and enters into a tall, skyscraper of a building. The building reads “Central Intelligence Agency”.

“Well, tough luck, but who’s to say there aren’t more interesting foods for us to try.” Sam tries to comfort Skipper.

“I’ve got to get one of those cones!” Skipper vows, still zoned in on the mission.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, looking back up at the sheer height of the building.

“Positive! I’m sure this is just some regular building. No biggie.” Skipper places a flipper on his gut. “My gut told me so.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Now he was speaking like Rockgut. Skipper was right though, adventure was what they left Antarctica to find. If he didn’t want to do anything the least bit exciting, he might as well have stayed behind. The world was full of possibilities for them to explore. He just had to keep his eyes and mind open.

“All right, Skipper,” Sam peers out of the bush. “What’s our plan?”

Once Skipper and Sam successfully cross the street, using a traffic cone as camouflage, they stand at the front entrance of the building. Both of them stare up at the revolving door in front of them.

“Hmm,” Skipper rubs his chin, taking in the sight. “What do you make of it, Sam?”

“I’m not sure. Possibly an entrance?”

“Yeah… it looks like some sort of human security screening.” Skipper wagers. It wasn’t. It was just a regular revolving door.

“Guess, we’ll give it our best,” Skipper shrugs and pushes on the door, with Sam’s help. He thinks to himself - what would Buck Rockgut do?

As soon as they manage to push the door, they are smacked by another door behind them. This continues in a circular motion, sending the two penguins spinning uncontrollably through this man-made labyrinth. Good thing they were doing this on empty stomachs, as the spinning motion was relentless.

Suddenly, it comes to a halt, when a man in a suit pushes the door from the outside and enters effortlessly. This slows the spinning and sends the two flying out onto the shiny, office floor.

“Ugh,” Sam holds his head, trying to steady himself. He is still on the floor. Turns out, he’s not quite as agile as Skipper.

“That was quite the insidious trap. But we made it, Sam!” Skipper pumps his fist. “Phase one is complete!”

Skipper’s attention immediately leaps to the trail of water droplets on the floor. He bends down, as if tracking an animal. “Hmm, these prints are fresh. He must have just come this way.” Skipper dips a flipper in the water and inspects it.

Just as Sam is getting up from the tumble across the floor, he waddles over to Skipper. Unfortunately, he doesn’t quite watch his step. He ends up slipping, webbed feet in the air, on a puddle of melted ice.

“Woah, ho, ho,” Skipper teases, “looks like someone still needs to get their city legs.”

Just as Sam is about to drag Skipper down with him in retaliation for that comment, they hear approaching footsteps. The feet emit a roaring CLICK and CLACK on the floor. In order to avoid detection, they scurry around the nearest corner.

They observe the human, as she stands facing the wall and presses a button. Within minutes, the doors in front of him slide open and the woman walks inside. That must be where the snow cone man wandered off to. Once the coast is clear, Sam and Skipper try to follow. However, the button the man pressed is high up on the wall. Neither of them can reach it, no matter how many times they hop.

“Here,” Sam says, “get on my shoulders.”

At first Skipper thinks this is another height joke. But then, he realizes that Sam’s plan just might work. He hurriedly stands on Sam’s shoulders, as the base penguin tries to maintain his balance.

“Is it working?” Sam grunts.

Skipper strains and stretches his compact body as far as it will go. “No dice,” he sighs. Then remarks, “you know, we’d be in real good shape if we added two more penguins to this stack.”

A keen observation but not helpful in their current situation. A DING echoes from behind the doors, as the brothers stand there in confusion. They hadn’t managed to press the button, so why was it making that noise?

Suddenly, the doors part to reveal a jam-packed elevator full of humans all headed their way. They have to slide out of the way just to avoid being trampled.

Luckily, they dodge the humans in time, hiding behind a tall plant. Just before the doors close, they slide in.

In the elevator, Skipper and Sam stare up at, you guessed it, more buttons. Unsure of what to do next, Skipper jumps up and slaps all of them with his flipper. One of them has to be the correct one right?

It doesn’t take them long, as the trail of water continues onto the second floor. Just as they’re getting off, another man gets on. As the doors close, he looks to find that every single button has been pressed. He sighs. Thanks to some jokester this was not going to be a quick ride.

As Sam and Skipper sneak through the office space, many of the workers are sitting in their cubicles with snow cones in hand. This leads them to infer that the snow cone man did in fact come this way. They were hot on his trail now.

Sure enough, they catch sight of him, pushing his cart into some sort of room. It reads “Break Room”. They manage to sneak in beside the wheels of the cart. The man, however, does not stay in the room with the cart. He calls out to another vendor in the hallway, as he shuts the door behind him. “Eh, I’m going to go get something from the vending machine. Those carts ain’t easy to push.”

Sam can hardly believe his eyes as the cart is unattended. He is rather impressed that they made it so far and managed to snag these snow cones. Admittedly, he didn’t think it was possible. That kid was something else. He knew it from the day that met, and yet he never ceased to keep him on his toes.

Skipper stands on the cart, already having fixed himself a snowcone. “Ooh! Do I want red? Or orange? No, wait green! Blue?”

Sam calls up to his indecisive brother. “Why not multiple?”

Skipper’s eyes light up as he pauses. This is quite the revelation. “I can try all of them!”

“How about just three for now?” Sam suggests, he doesn’t know what effect those coloring will have on them.

“Yeah, three sounds good,” Skipper shrugs.

He settles with the classic rainbow cone - red, yellow, and blue. Sam plays it a bit safer with a regular blue snowcone. As they enjoy their frozen treats, Sam offers Skipper a high one. He happily obliges as they slap their flippers together in victory. When the snow cone man comes back, they slip their way out the door and back out to the city street, completely undetected.

And yes, of course, Skipper’s first love was a snow cone. It is, without a doubt, the penguin’s favorite snack and continues to be so to this day.

Their second destination was inspired from a brochure Sam found. Apparently, there was this giant celebration taking place in Brazil called Carnival and by the looks of it, it looked like a hopping scene. Plus, they could possibly blend in with their feathers.

In the business of the crowd, it was easy for the brothers to go undetected during the parade. With all the samba music and festive attire, this is one of the loudest places the two have ever found themselves in. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, Sam does his best to keep an eye on Skipper. It would be no challenge for them to get separated from each other. However, he doesn’t want Skipper to feel infantilized, so he keeps this thought to himself.

Skipper on the other hand… or flipper, is concerned with his brother’s clumsiness. If he took one misstep, he could end up trampled by one of the humans or worse, a parade float. But hey, Sam could handle himself. He’s the toughest penguin Skipper had ever met in fact. Well, maybe besides Buck Rockgut.

However, Skipper’s attention is once again stolen by a female toucan. Her feathers are brilliantly painted purple, pink, and green for the occasion. She bats her eyes and winks at him, which is all he needs to wander off and start a conversation with the alluring stranger.

When Sam notices Skipper is no longer by his side, he panics briefly. Then sees the boy flirting with this stranger. The two are going back and forth quite nicely in whatever conversation they seem to be having, though Sam tries not to eavesdrop. He certainly had to be conscious of Skipper’s habit of wandering.

The next day, while the brothers are groggily wandering the streets of Sao Paulo, Sam catches a whiff of something delightful. He sneaks in a small shop, while Skipper waits outside, nearly dozing off. They had quite the wild night of partying at the parade. Outside of the little shop are tables set up with umbrellas coming out of the tops.

Sam comes back out with two cups in his flippers. They’re almost his size. From the top, there is steam slithering out into the air. Whatever is in those cups must be hot.

“Here, try this,” Sam hands him a cup.

Skipper nearly drops it in his sleepiness. He inspects the dark, hot liquid. “What is it?”

“It’s coffee!” Sam exclaims. “It smelled so good I couldn’t resist. Plus, I hear it boosts your energy.”

Skipper takes one sip and his eyes widen. It’s like he is suddenly fully awake. “Wow! That is good!” He laughs, nearly manically.

“Yeah, I know!” Sam laughs, buzzing off of the caffeine.

Next the brothers find themselves in Cape Town, South Africa. Once again, they are drawn to the beach. This one’s even more beautiful than the last. It’s like a tropical paradise. The sand is white and adorned with giant, dark rocks to climb on. Skipper can’t resist standing on one and posing, as if he is the king of a castle. Sam smirks, rolls his eyes, and looks out to the water. It’s much bluer than the last beach and yet much lighter than the waters from home.

Just when it seems like things can’t get more exciting, they see a whole colony of penguins emerging from their dens for the day. Sam begins talking with a few of the penguins, while Skipper tries to get his attention.

“Sam! Sam! Look!” Skipper taps on his brother’s shoulder. He points out towards the water where some of the penguins have smuggled some surfboards from tourists and are surfing the waves.

“Hey, we’ve got an extra board, if you wanna join.” One of the penguins offers, Skipper.

Skipper looks to Sam for approval.

“Go ahead, but be careful.” Sam instructs, stressing the latter half.

“You know, I always am,” Skipper brushes off Sam’s warning. He earnestly believes that to be the case.

While Skipper goes surfing with his new buddies, Sam stretches himself out on the beach to do some sunbathing. He pulls a pair of sunglasses from out of their bag and relaxes on the nice, warm beach. So far, this was quite the spot. He wouldn’t mind coming back. This adventure was shaping up to be pretty fun but at the same time - exhausting. This gave him a nice little break. He just couldn’t match Skipper’s energy. The kid sure had a zeal for life.

“Sea lion!” One of the penguins shouts a warning.

Sam sits up to find all of the penguins rushing out of the water. He desperately scans the beach for Skipper but he’s not there. Sam leaps to his feet. Skipper can’t still be in the water. Can he? He left him out of his sight for just a few minutes. Panic begins to rise in him, especially when he does find Skipper.

Skipper is still riding a wave, as a shadowy figure stalks in the water behind him. Sam goes running towards the water, solely running on instinct and adrenaline. His feet brush the water, when Skipper turns to see the approaching predator. With that, Skipper disappears into the water.

“Skipper!” Sam calls helplessly from the shore. Was he too late? There’s no answer and he feels sick to his stomach. “Skipper?”

Just then, another wave comes crashing into the shore. An obscured giant of a figure emerges in the flow of the water, as it towers over him before ebbing into the beach. Surely, that was the sea lion. He assumes the worst and covers his eyes.

When the wave resides, Skipper is standing on top of the predator with his flippers on his hips. The monstrous sea lion is tied up in kelp, with its jaws and flippers bound. The young penguin proudly takes in the amazement from the crowd.

That’s when Sam grabs ahold of his flipper and drags him from the beach. He had scared him to death and for what, just to tango with a predator? It is something that Rockgut would have done sure, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying to watch.

They continue their adventures, travel up north through the continent and find themselves in Egypt. From a distance, they can see the pyramids. Skipper cups his flippers around his eyes to get a good view of them. Then, he outstretches his flippers and pretends to smush the pyramids between them.

Sam is focused on the Nile river that they are hoping to ride up. How is it that they could safely swim up it?

That’s when Skipper rummages through the bag and pulls out a long rope. He whistles as a crocodile goes sailing by. This merits a side glance from the croc. Skipper then has enough time to lasso the beast’s snout. Sam stares on, as Skipper leaps on and invites him to join. Where’d he learn that?

The next stop is Italy as Skipper and Sam are riding in a gondola they have commandeered. Skipper stands at the helm, overlooking the water and bustling city. This leads to more grunt work for Sam, who subsequently splashes Skipper with water from his paddle. He rolls his eyes and slides back down to help with the rowing.

From gondola to vespa, Skipper and Sam go swerving through the city streets. Laughing and holding on for dear life, they enjoy their gelato and take in the sites. They drive too fast for humans to get a good look at them. If they weren’t before, it is safe to say that these two are now having the time of their lives.

After Italy, they find themselves in Germany. It’s late, as the brothers find themselves in a garden, munching on pretzels and sipping on frosted mugs. String lights hang above, giving them light in order to see one another.

“Cheers to our epic quest!” Skipper offers, raising his large mug.

“Cheers!” Sam chuckles, clanking it up against Skipper’s.

When Skipper takes a swig of his beverage, something spots his eye in the distance. Two black and white figures sneak along the city street beyond the garden.

“Hey, Sam” Skipper squints, not wanting to run the risk of losing sight of the two figures. “Do you see that?”

“What?” Sam takes a look behind him. “Yeah it looks like two black-and-white animals.”

“They’re penguins! They’ve got to be!” Skipper takes off after them.

Sam sighs, couldn’t they just enjoy one nice meal without running off? “Or a skunk, Skipper.”

Skipper takes off after them, and once again, Sam finds himself running after Skipper. Who knows if those were really penguins he was chasing after? Jeez, this kid is impulsive.

“Hey, Sam! I was right!” Skipper calls out, not only getting Sam’s attention but the attention of the two penguins.

They turn to face him, both looking rather rough. One is tall and lanky, with feathers sticking up from his head. The other is rather portly, with a large, wide beak. Their formerly menacing faces soften, as they find that they are looking at another penguin. Not to mention, he doesn’t seem to be much of a threat, given his size and age.

Sam finally catches up out of breath. What has Skipper gotten them into now?

“Hey Johnson,” the compact one looks over at his compadre. “What do you think?”

“They look harmless, Manfredi. I’m thinking they’re some hayseeds new to the city.” Johnson responds. Both of their voices are raspy. Skipper thinks it’s cool.

“What’s your name, kid?” Manfredi asks. The two still maintain their distance.

“Uh, I’m Skipper and this is Sam! We’re from Antartica!” Skipper smiles, immediately trusting these strangers.

Sam clears his throat. “I apologize for interrupting you both. We’re not looking for any trouble or anything.” He has a bad feeling about these two.

“Trouble?” Manfredi gives a deep, belly laugh. “Who said anything about trouble? We’re penguins just like you guys. The name’s Manfredi.”

“Johnson,” Johnson raises his flipper slightly.

“So you know the penguin credo?” Skipper perks up, closing some of the space between them.

“Sure do,” Johnson replies.

“Never swim alone!” Skipper and Manfredi shout at the same time. This causes Manfredi to laugh, ruffling Skipper’s feathers.

“Hey, this is a good kid you got here, friend.” He says to Sam.

Sam takes a few steps forward to keep Skipper close. Just because they were penguins doesn’t mean they’re friendly or good influences for that matter. Skipper was still very impressionable.

Manfredi and Johnson take off walking, but Skipper follows. He has to learn more about these interesting strangers. “So, you guys go on top secret missions, saving penguinkind – like Buck Rockgut?” Why else would penguins be wandering around so late at night?

“Ah, so you’re a fan of Rockgut, huh?” Johnson glances over his shoulder. He and Manfredi were also well-versed in the legends of Rockgut. In fact, most penguins were accustomed to these stories.

“Yeah! We both are!” Skipper answers enthusiastically, putting his flipper around Sam.

“I’d say we do similar stuff.” Manfredi shrugs, while Johnson looks at him confused.

Now, Skipper is excited. “So, you just spend your days traveling around?” He’s actually meeting penguin secret agents!

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. We look out for penguinkind on a more… individual, localized level.” Manfredi thinks of a way to phrase it.

“That and avoiding the lawman.” Johnson retorts.

With that, Sam swiftly places a flipper out in front of Skipper to stop him. “So, you two are wanted criminals?”

Boy, this Sam character was judgy, huh? “We don’t really like to think of it that way.” Manfredi stops.

“Look, boys.” Johnson tries to level with them, “When you’re a penguin out here in the world, outside of Antarctica, you’ve got to get creative to ensure you get your next meal.”

“Ooh! Mysterious! I like it!” Skipper brightens, turning to Sam for his approval. Sam knows already that Skipper is fascinated with these two, regardless of whatever they say.

“I’m sure there are alternatives to theft.” Sam glares.

Johnson chuckles. “Well, it’s not just theft.”

“Either that or end up in a zoo.” Manfredi shrugs.

Johnson humorlessly laughs at the possibility. “Yeah right, living a life confined behind gates, performing for those humans. I’d rather play butler to a seal.”

“Pfft, yeah. Those humans…” Skipper tries to fit in but doesn’t really know what he’s talking about. “so dunderheaded.”

“Exactly!” Johnson turns back and keeps walking. “This way, we live our own lives – make our rules. Tied down to no one and nothing.”

“That’s freedom.” Manfredi follows along, giving Johnson a high-one.

“No obligations to anything or anyone. What keeps you going then?” Sam doesn’t seem to think a life like that would have much purpose.

“Well, it’s the adventure.” Manfredi explains, stopping once more. It appears they have reached what appears to be the ground-level window to a building.

“We’re here one day, there the next.” Johnson moves his flippers, gesturing from left to right.

“That’s exactly the kind of life I want! Fighting bad guys, saving damsels, all on my own time – with my best friend Sam here.” Skipper is all riled up.

Sam points to the window which they have stopped at. “And this is?” He isn’t just going to follow these two into a mysterious building, without knowing what’s inside.

Manfredi knocks on the window. It lifts by a slit, as two eyes peek out, inspecting the crew. The window subsequently lifts to welcome them.

“Just a little place we like to go to have a good time. It’s sorta like a cabaret.” Johnson says, climbing in.

“We’re good friends with two of the dancers here.” Manfredi explains, before leaping in himself.

From inside, Johnson looks at Manfredi and teases back. “I guess you could say we’re accomplices.” They both share a laugh, sensing Sam’s distrust of them.

“Sure, sounds good to me.” Skipper shrugs and hops on in before Sam can stop him.

Sam goes in after, finding a truly packed and lively hidden club. A plethora of different kinds of animals all walk by in the dimmed lighting. It’s hard to find room to breathe in here. Although that could just be his nerves. The swing music is blaring, adding soundtrack to the rowdy guests’ conversations, gambling, and drinking.

Sam then pulls Skipper aside, out of earshot of their new… acquaintances. He puts his flippers on Skipper’s shoulders. “I don’t know about this, Skipper.”

“What? You said you wanted to have a good time. Let’s have a good time! C’mon, don’t be such a drag.” Skipper waves Sam off, before trying to get out of Sam’s grasp.

Sam stops him again. “I just get a bad feeling about these guys in my gut.”

“But this is the whole reason we left that ice patch we call home – to find adventure. This – this is one heck of an adventure if I ever saw one.” Something catches Skipper’s eye and he starts laughing. “I mean look at that guy – he’s got an eyepatch!” He points to the cat passing them with several scratches and a pirate eyepatch.

This gets the attention of a rough-looking Komodo dragon. He turns and growls at Skipper. It’s impolite to point, especially in this crowd. Sam pulls Skipper’s flipper down. The dragon snarls and keeps walking.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Skipper shrugs.

A penguin waiter passes by and Skipper grabs two drinks off of his tray. As Skipper hands him a drink, Sam exchanges it for the bag of their belongings so Skipper can pay for them.

“You said you wanted to see the world.” He places the money on the tray and the bag under his other flipper.

Sam sighs, he doesn’t like it when Skipper uses his words against him. “Fine, we can stay. So long as you think you can handle all of this.” He looks at all the debauchery occurring around them.

“Pfft! Of course, I can – there’s nothing I can’t handle.” Skipper scoffs, before they join Manfredi and Johnson at a table towards the stage.

Just then, the lights dim even more. From somewhere backstage, a voice rings out from a static microphone. “And please welcome to the stage, the best gig this club has to offer – the two, the only – the bodacious Chinstrap Sisters.”

The curtain slides open and Skipper utterly mesmerized.

“Boys, these are our friends: Violet and Crimson.” Manfredi introduces them to the Chinstrap Sisters.

The two penguins are holding gigantic ostrich feathers. As the music plays, they begin to dance rhythmically incorporating the feathers in their dance. Skipper is awestruck by their beauty.

“You know –… ?” Skipper begins to ask, but he can’t look away for long enough.

“The boy’s blushing like a rose!” Johnson slaps Manfredi’s shoulder, getting a kick out of Skipper’s reaction.

“I think he’s got a crush.” Manfredi winks over at Sam.

Sam looks over at Skipper and smirks. Clearly, he’s never seen anything like the Chinstrap Sister’s performance. Sam shakes his head and chuckles.

Violet, the younger of the two sisters, makes eye contact with Skipper and he is swept up in a fantasy world where it is just the two of them, floating in space and time has slowed itself. She approaches him and dances closer.

When the song ends, she winks at him and giggles. Then, she prances backstage as if nothing had happened. Skipper’s gaze follows her as she disappears back behind the curtain. The audience’s hoots and applause is enough to snap him out of his trance.

“Welcome back,” Sam laughs, slapping Skipper on the back.

“Huh?” Skipper is still a little out of it. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Sure, you didn’t, kid.” Johnson shakes his head.

“See, they’re both what you might call femme fatales.” Manfredi chimes in.

“Like I said before, everybody in this game needs to find their own ways to make ends meet.” Johnson reminds them. Stealing wasn’t the only way. They could get into performing too.

“You think maybe you could talk to them for me, Johnson? You all are friends, right?” Skipper nods earnestly.

Sam shakes his head and chuckles once more at the boy’s naivete. “Skipper.”

“What? She came up to me specifically! There was something there – a connection! I feel it!” Skipper gets defensive, blushing even more.

“Do you even know which one?” Manfredi asks plainly.

“Yeah… the uh, shorter one?” Skipper stumbles over his overconfidence.

“See, that’s part of their job, kid. They’re supposed to make you feel special.” Johnson rolls his eyes.

Sam suddenly straightens up. He looks around the table, then to the floor frantically. The mood of the table takes a sudden turn. “Skipper, where’s the money?”

“The what?” Skipper is dumbfounded. He had just had it. The bag couldn’t have just wandered off.

“My point exactly. A dame’s gotta make a living somehow.” Johnson sighs, he was used to this sort of thing.

Sam’s protective instincts take over. He stands up towering over the two. “Where’d it go?”

Manfredi shrinks. “Hey, relax…” he tries to laugh off his nerves. He looks to his buddy for support. “Johnson?”

“All right, friend, we’ll get this sorted out. I mean, for anyone else it might be hard.” Johnson stands up, lifting his flippers as if to defuse the situation.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but for you – of course we can... They don’t scare us at all.” Manfredi begins, as they make their way backstage.

Behind the stage door, Violet is sitting at a vanity, wiping her makeup off. The other sister, Crimson, is nowhere in sight.

Johnson is the first to enter, “Ladies - ” he begins but is interrupted by a knife inches from his throat.

He chuckles nervously. “Woah, good to see you too, Crimson. You still know how to make an entrance, huh?”

Sure enough, Crimson was the one to get the drop on him. She lowers her knife. He really had to learn to announce himself before entering. “Ugh!” She lowers the knife. “What is it this time, Johnson?” Clearly, the two had history together.

“See, we brought a couple of friends with us here tonight, and we were wondering – if you don’t mind …. – ” Johnson begins to do the talking, while the other three enter.

“Oh!” Violet looks over, bouncing in her seat. She recognizes Skipper. “It’s the dupe from the front row!”

“Hi” Skipper sighs and waves, back on cloud 9.

“Look, we just want our money back.” Sam wants to cut to the chase.

“Please?” Manfredi squeaks.

Crimson gets defensive. “And who says we have it?” It was a crowded club after all. They couldn’t just go around giving out money to every chump.

“C’mon, Crim. Don’t be like that. These boys need their money back.” Johnson whines, trying to bat his eyes.

From across the room, Skipper is already off talking to Violet. “Hi, you’re pretty.” He leans up against the vanity.

She giggles in response. “Aw thank you! You’re so sweet!” She places a flipper on his cheek.

“A couple of girls have got to make a living for ourselves, you know.” Crimson begrudges.

“Skipper, c’mon. Let’s go, before you lose anything else.” Sam sighs. He knew this was a bad idea.

“What? I don’t think a blushing flower like her is any of our concern, Sam.” Skipper looks over at Violet.

In an instant, she grabs his flipper and flips him. He lands with a thud, on his side, pressed up against the vanity’s chair. His cheek squished up against the soft fabric. She pins him down, showing him that he was quite wrong in his summation.

“Appearances can surprise you!” She replies in a cheery voice, before lowering her voice and whispering to just Skipper. “Besides, seals like the sweet ones.” She thrusts a knife down into the cushion, inches from Skipper’s beak.

She then gives him a peck on the cheek. Still, he sighs happily.

“Ugh!” Sam rolls his eyes. Clearly, he isn’t getting any backup from his brother over there. He turns to Crimson. “So, can we have the money back or not?”

“Fine, when you’re caught. You’re caught.” She goes to a sack of money and begins counting. Clearly they have much more than just what they had stolen from Skipper.

She looks up. “You two aren’t cops or anything, are you?”

“No! You think we’d bring the fuzz in here?” Johnson asks, a bit offended.

“Not on purpose… probably, but knowing you two I’m not so sure.” Crimson rolls her eyes. Those two could be rather accident prone and incompetent. They had a reputation. It was a wonder they had survived for as long as they had.

“No, we’re just two penguins from Antarctica, looking to explore the world.” Sam explains, not willing to give out too much information but enough to save their hides.

“Pfft. What an awful thing to do.” She hands him the money.

“Huh?” Sam questions.

“My advice – for both of you – turn back before you run into something you regret.” It seems like she is being serious.

“The rest of the world can’t be worse than Antarctica.” Sam shakes his head. Why was he taking advice from her?

“You’d be surprised how cold a place the world can be – unforgiving. One minute you’re living a carefree, reckless life, the next you end up like us. Most of us are wanted, you know, forbidden to show our faces in daylight. One bust could be the end of everything.”

Sam is taken aback. Could that really happen to them? To Skipper - the little hatchling he saved from the skuas all those years ago? “Well, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen to us.” He backs away.

“Crim, they’re just out in the world for the first time. Let them have their fun.” Johnson sighs. Must she always be a downer?

“Fine, but I’d settle down into a nice cozy life as soon as you get the chance, before it’s too late.” She responds coldly.

“And on that note, let’s get you two out of here.” Manfredi places a flipper on Sam’s shoulder.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Sam crosses his flippers over his chest. “Skipper?”

He looks over to find that Violet has Skipper in a headlock. “Ope! There you go!” She releases him.

“What a woman!” Skipper staggers back to Sam.

Sam grabs Skipper’s flipper and leads him out the door behind Manfredi and Johnson. Before leaving, Skipper looks back. Crimson and Violet both blow him a kiss. This causes him to stagger even more, as Sam practically drags him out of there.

After Manfredi and Johnson have left, Skipper and Sam are back walking around on their own. That was a close call. Sam thinks to himself. Maybe he had misjudged the situation. Skipper was much too naive to hold on to the money. The boy was growing up but he didn’t need to grow up that fast. That group would be nothing but trouble if Skipper got mixed in with them. The thought made Sam nervous. Would Skipper ever start stealing too? Scamming other animals? No, that’s not how he raised him. At least, that’s not how he hopes he raised him.

“All right, Skipper, where to next?” Sam wraps a flipper round his kid brother.

“Aw, don’t you wanna stay a few more days with Manfredi and Johnson? They’re really cool, aren’t they, Sam?” Skipper is unsure what the rush is. Sure, he had almost lost their money, but they had gotten it back. They ended up having a great time anyway, didn’t they?

“Yeah, they’re uh… they’re something!” Sam thinks of a way to be more persuasive. He wants to get Skipper away from the party-scene. “Anyway, this is only our what? Sixth stop? We’ve got so much world to see. Plus, we can always come back later.”

“You’re right! This was just a taste of the life I’m hoping for.” Skipper puts his flippers on his hips.

“Exactly! So where to next?” Sam encourages Skipper to think and think quickly.

“Let me think…” Skipper taps his chin but it doesn’t take him too long to find a suggestion. “How about London?”

“Oh, yeah! That’s the spirit! The home of fish and chips, Big Ben,” Sam starts spouting off facts. Then, he imitates a posh, British accent for Skipper, “and posh society.”

Skipper chuckles at Sam. “And… Johnson told me there’s going to be a big shindig at the London Zoo tomorrow night with animals from all around.”

Sam sighs. So that was the real reason Skipper wanted to go? As much as he wanted to protect Skipper, he had to realize the kid was growing up. He was going to forge his own path, make his own mistakes. It’s not like he could shelter him forever. The real world was something that he wanted to discover, so in order to be a good brother, Sam figured he needed to get onboard with Skipper’s new party mentality. He would be there for him if it ever proved to be a mistake, right? So, what could go wrong?

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

And so, the brothers attend this mixer at the London Zoo. The party is rather hopping compared to what they expected from the zoo animals. Animals from all around had gathered for one reason - to get wild. Skipper and his brother were no exception. After their encounter with those Chinstrap Sisters, Sam was a lot more reluctant than his brother. However, Skipper was just so eager, Sam couldn’t just cut their debauchery short. It seems Skipper was growing up and craved all that the world had in store for him. He wasn’t quite as disenchanted and cynical as Sam yet. Being the older of the two, Sam didn’t want to take any of the adventure away from Skipper.

“Wow, wow, wow,” Skipper scans the crowd. Rather than searching for possible threats, like he would have back home, there is only one thing he’s looking for. “So many lovely ladies here tonight.”

“Just keep your wits about you, kid. Last time you went head over heels, you almost lost all our cash.” Sam reminds his brother.

“Aw, c’mon, Sam. Live a little.” Skipper sighs and makes his way to the tiki bar. Upon getting there, he finds two fruity concoctions with little umbrellas sticking out of the tops.

As Skipper hands him a beverage, Sam shrugs. “I guess, you’re right. That is why we came out here in the first place, huh?”

“Exactly!” Skipper punches his brother’s shoulder playfully. Skipper doesn’t quite know his own strength as Sam fumbles with the drink in his flipper. He nearly drops it.

Before Sam can fully recover from the surprise, Skipper’s fleeting attention has already shifted. “Target acquired.” He says, moving his head in the direction of two female peacocks.

Sam acquiesces and accompanies Skipper in wooing the peacocks who look as though they could practically be twins. For an amateur, Skipper turns out to be quite the charmer and quick on his feet. He introduces Sam as his older brother and quickly goes to ask the peacocks about themselves. It almost seems easy for Skipper, at least it appears that way to Sam. Turns out Skipper could be quite the player. The two peacocks seem to laugh at all his jokes. However, he can’t help but notice the prolonged gazes that both of the peacocks give him. Since he really has no intentions of forming any lasting relationship with either of them, he feels unsettled and looks away. He looks at the crowd.

Suddenly Sam stops cold.

From across the way, their eyes meet. She is a petite and round penguin with bright, blue eyes. They shine against the dark feathers on her head. Unlike Skipper or Sam, she appears to be an Adelie penguin. By the way she waddles through the crowd so gracefully, it almost looks as though she is floating. Sam can’t seem to draw his attention away from her. Suddenly, he finds no interest in whatever is happening around him. It’s as if the air has been stolen from his lungs.

“Who is that?” Sam says to himself, in practically a whisper.

Skipper doesn’t notice. He is still talking to the two peacocks they were wooing together. “But, anyway, like I was saying….” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam walking off. “– hey, where are you going?”

“Excuse me.” Sam bows out of the conversation. He just has to meet this girl. Something is drawing him to her, like the earth’s gravitational pull. Even if he tried to avoid her, whatever it was would surely keep nagging him. However, he really has no plan for what he’ll do when he gets there.

When Sam finally reaches her, he stumbles over his own two feet. Instead of his proportionally sized, webbed feet, in that moment, they feel as haphazard as if he were wearing clown shoes. And at the very worst moment for him to trip and fall, he does so right in front of her. Rather than approaching her in a suave and gentlemanly manner, he trips right in her path.

Luckily, he catches himself with one flipper on the tiki bar. It feels like all eyes are on him, as he feels sickeningly warm with mortification. Just then, he hears a voice beside him.

“Oh dear! Are you all right?” She squeaks, with her airy, soft British voice.

Sam looks up to find just the girl he had been admiring, looking down at him with pity in her eyes. He was blowing this and making an utter fool of himself in the process. It seems like the longer he stays propped up against the bar, the more embarrassing this will get.

“Oh me?” Sam chuckles, as if he hadn’t been the only one to take a tumble. “Nah, I’m just, uh… just clumsy is all. Leave it to me to trip over my own feet.” He laughs.

She simply giggles, covering her beak. Who was this clumsy stranger? He certainly wasn’t from the zoo. But there was just something about him, whether it be his awkwardness or humor, that made him all the more charming. She just had to find out more about him.

When she removed her flipper from her beak, Sam was able to get a full picture of her. She was like nothing he had ever seen before. Before, from across the crowd he thought she was beautiful, but being this up close he could see that she was absolutely stunning. While his eyes were green, hers were bright and blue, like the sky on a late spring afternoon. She had a glowing smile to match, that was wide yet subtle. There was certainly an air about her that took his breath away.

“Uh, I uh…” Sam is simply mesmerized by her. “I just wanted to say. You have the most beautiful eyes.”

They seemingly glow at the compliment. If penguins could blush, she would. Instead, she puts her flippers together in front of her modestly. “Thank you,” she giggles slightly. In her frazzled state, she didn’t know what to say in response to his kind words.

Back at the other tiki bar, Skipper is scoffing at his brother’s clumsiness. Now, Sam won’t seem to get a chance with either one of the peacocks or this random girl. He rolls his eyes, never pegging Sam to be the idealistic and sappy type.

“So, looks like he left. But I don’t see why the three of us can’t all -” Skipper tries to smoothly re-enter the conversation with the peacocks. When he looks back, they are already gathering their things.

“Yeah, actually, we were just leaving.” One of the peacocks smiles with a look that is insincere and awkward.

Skipper looks back at Sam and growls under his breath.

That’s when an ocelot stalks up to him. By the time he turns his head, she is leaning on the bar, inches from him. She smirks, as she eyes him up and down. “And how is such a scrumptious little thing like you all by your lonesome?” She speaks with a thick accent.

Skipper shivers but in a way that isn’t quite bad.

“Well, I’d be happy to change that.” Skipper smirks back at the larger feline.

She places a paw on his flipper. Her claws bristle his feathers. “My pleasure.”

“Well, hello kitty.” Skipper winks.

Back at the opposite end of the party, Sam is still entranced by this new penguin. “Oh, um… where are my manners?” Sam stammers. “My name’s Sam by the way.” What should he do now? A bow? A handshake? Instead, he panics and tries to suavely prop his flipper up on the tiki bar. He leans into it, feigning a confident posture. It had worked before.

However, the sudden shaking of the bar knocks a decorative coconut loose from above. It comes crashing down on Sam’s head.

“Ouch,” he rubs his head, instantly dropping the cool act.

As hard as she tries, she can’t resist her laughter. She covers her beak once more. It doesn’t take Sam long to hear her enjoyment out of his little faux paus. But instead of being embarrassed, he finds himself swept up in her laughter and finds himself chuckling along with her. The moment was magical.

“I take it you’re not from around here, Sam.” She smiles, breaking off the laughter.

“Oh, uh,” Sam begins to panic internally. Had he said something wrong? “No, I’m actually from Antarctica. Me and that knucklehead back… - nevermind” Sam laughs and looks for his brother. However, he’s no longer standing there.

“I thought your voice sounded a bit different.” She smiles warmly. It was true, they did speak with very different accents. “Besides, the only penguins around here are my brother, my mum, and me.”

“Oh, must get awful boring.” Sam sympathizes. He can’t imagine being trapped in a zoo with the same penguins for such a long time.

“Not really, at least, I don’t mind it. I spend most of my time taking care of my mum, while my brother travels for… his doily collection. Besides, I have plenty of time for my own hobbies. You know, walking around the park, entertaining the humans.” She responds. Oops, had she overshared? She has a habit of doing that herself. Perhaps, he wasn’t the only awkward one here.

“Doily collecting, huh?” Sam thinks to himself. “What an incredibly British hobby.”

She laughs. If only he knew what her brother was really up to. But she can’t go around giving out her family’s secrets. However, she had to be extra careful when speaking with this stranger in particular. He had a way about him that made her nervous but in an exciting way. If she wasn’t careful, she could end up giving out the key to their habitat. Oh, how open and trusting she could be. Sometimes of the wrong people.

“So what about you?” She collects herself. “Do you have anyone traveling with you? I mean, you’ve come such a long way.”

“Yeah, actually. My little brother should be around here somewhere.” Sam goes back to briefly scanning the crowd. A bit of fear arises in him when he can’t find Skipper. Hopefully, the kid hadn’t gotten into any trouble.

“That’s sweet. Are you two close?” She muses. Her heart is racing and her head is spinning. He’s looking after his brother, too? There was really something about him that made her heart flutter.

“Yeah, actually,” Sam’s attention is immediately drawn back to her. Skipper is fine. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself for a few minutes, right? “I practically raised him. I’ve been looking after him since he was a chick.”

“Aww,” she sighs. “So, you two are just traveling around the world, then? Is London your first stop?”

“Actually, it’s our third… or fourth. Maybe fifth.” Sam has to think on this one. They had already seen so much and gotten into so much mischief. “Either way, we wanted to get off of the tundra, you know, go out and see the world.”

“Oh,” she smiles, but something within her really hopes this is Sam’s favorite spot. And for what reason, she does not quite know. “Would you care to see the town?”

“Really?” Sam perks up. Was she asking him out on a date? Nah, it couldn’t be. But maybe… how could someone like her be at all interested in him? He had to play it cool. So, he stifles his thoughts and stows down his emotions. “I’d like that.”

“Sam, how ya doin’, buddy?” With that, Skipper slides in, completely interrupting the moment. He wraps his flipper around Sam and drags him down to his level.

Sam narrows his eyes to give Skipper a very pointed look.

The female penguin laughs. “This must be your brother, I take it?”

“Yes,” Sam grumbles, looking at Skipper. Skipper doesn’t seem to get what is happening. Either that, or he wants to pull Sam away. He’s never seen his brother look at another penguin like he had this one.

And for that matter, why is Sam glaring at him like that?

Sam returns to his manners, when he looks back up at her. “This is Skipper.”

“Very nice to meet you, Skippah.” She smiles warmly. Skipper likes the way her accent sounds when she says his name.

“Charmed,” he takes his flipper in his and does a little bow. Anything to return the civility. This British zoo seemed like high society, and he wanted to blend in.

Sam is fuming, while she laughs. She doesn’t think much of Skipper’s hijinks.

“Skipper,” Sam clears his throat. “This is um…” That’s when it hits him, like a ten pound salmon to the gut. He never even asked what her name was. He freezes.

“Eleanor,” she looks at Sam when she says this.

“Eleanor,” Sam nods, keeping eye contact. He smiles, as if he has discovered a rare diamond.

“Would tomorrow night be a good time for our stroll?” She reminds him of the plans they were making. Surely, she didn’t want those to be forgotten.

“Oh well, Sam and I have already - ” Skipper tries to chime in, but Sam nudges him out of the way before he can finish his thought.

“Sounds delightful,” Sam’s eyes have not left Eleanor. Eleanor. That name would run through his mind all night and day, until their next meeting.

Sam begins to leave, nearly dragging his kid brother behind him. It’s only a matter of time before he does something else. He loves his brother but man, could the kid be pesky sometimes.

“Sam,” Eleanor calls for him, and he immediately turns. “What did you say your last name was, again?”

Last name? Uh… did he even have one of those? Back in Antarctica families didn’t really stick together for that long to come up with a family name. But he had to think of something. If he wanted to keep her attention and even start to be worthy of her, he had to think of something. They came from two different worlds - this was one he had never even considered for himself, not until now.

“Fishy, Sam Fishy.” He comes up with the first thing he can think of.

Skipper tilts his head in confusion. That isn’t Sam’s last name. He didn’t even have one. Neither of them did. And what was it to her? Sheesh, this dame was awfully nosey.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Fishy,” Eleanor waves. As soon as she says it aloud, she’s pretty sure he made it up on the spot. But it doesn’t matter, her head is still in the clouds. Despite her flightless nature, she feels as though she is flying with angels.

“Sounds like you had a good night.” Skipper lifts his faux eyebrows at Sam.

“You know, I actually did.” Sam sighs. In just a few minutes, life showed him that it was still full of surprises. And not just surprises but wonders too.

As the two waddle off, Sam remembers that he had somewhat ditched Skipper. For a second, he weighs the morality of his actions. Sure, he had left Skipper alone but maybe that was the best thing for him. It was a lesson, even if unintentional, Skipper learned to hold his own in such a setting even if it was for a few minutes. Skipper was growing up. Plus, that meant that he was able to meet Eleanor. After that night, his life would never be the same and something inside of him knew it.

“So, anything go anywhere with those peacocks?” Sam chuckles.

Skipper scoffs. “No,” No thanks to Sam. “But I did have quite the run-in with a flirtatious ocelot” Skipper reports smoothly.

“An ocelot,” It’s Sam’s turn to raise his brow. Ocelots are rather carnivorous. It’s better he didn’t know what Skipper was up to. He partially jokes with Skipper, elbowing him in the stomach. “I’m surprised she didn’t eat you alive.”

“Oh, she did.” Skipper laughs cheekily. This earns him a slap to the back of the head from Sam.

As it turned out, London did end up being their longest stop. Whenever Skipper brought up the idea of moving on, Sam would always come up with an excuse. First it was his and Eleanor’s walk around the city, then it was their dinner date together and the excuses to see her just kept coming. That also meant less time for Sam to spend with Skipper. Growing up, Skipper had been so used to it being just the two of them. Now that Eleanor had entered Sam’s life and so drastically, Skipper didn’t know what to think. Was Sam starting to replace him? And what, for some girl he just met? But he was his brother, he had known him for most of his life. Soon enough, seeds of resentment began to sprout within the younger penguin.

However, Skipper wasn’t the only one to take notice of this change. While Sam and Eleanor’s relationship had flourished, Sam was realizing that he and Skipper’s dynamic was growing more and more distant. Admittedly, he felt quite guilty about this. But Eleanor had come to mean the world to him, and he shouldn’t feel bad about taking care of his own needs right? Although he had spent the better half of his life, thus far, focusing on his young brother’s growth, Sam was beginning to see a change in himself as well. Perhaps, this was a step in his own journey to adulthood. In the same vein, he couldn’t just leave Skipper behind though. He had to address the issue directly with Skipper, but had to think of some way to do it that wouldn’t scare him off.

One day in particular, Sam asked Skipper to grab lunch with him and overlook the water like they used to do. This subtle reminder of home, their shared past might soften the blow he was about to deliver. The nostalgia might even be persuasive to help Skipper see things his way.

A few minutes into their lunch. Sam begins reminiscing with Skipper, talking about all those times they spent fending off skuas and petrels together, fishing, and even the memories they had just made in their international travels.

“Yep, that’s us! Sam and Skipper – the dynamic duo! Closer than tartar and sauce. Fish and chips.” Skipper slaps a flipper on his brother’s back.

“I think you’re just hungry.” Sam chuckles, trying to dilute his own guilt.

“Maybe so, but I’ve never been this hungry. Hungry for adventure – that is.” Skipper leaps to his feet. “Sam, these are the best days of our lives here. Partying all night, fighting whoever we please, exploring limitlessly. Brother, we are completely free to go wherever we please. And it’s just the two of us. You and me against the world.” He confidently places flippers on his hips.

Turns out, Skipper came into this lunch with his own motivations as well. He wanted to remind Sam of how much fun they’ve had together and how many more adventures still await them. They have the whole world at their flipper-tips, and they were the unstoppable duo. Sam just needed to be reminded of this.

“About that… Skipper, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Sam stands up, placing a flipper on Skipper’s shoulder now.

Sensing the shift in Sam’s affect, Skipper tries to boost the mood back up. “What is it? Want to go someplace else? Hey, I chose London. By all means, you take the lead on this one. “ He is chomping at the bit to get Sam’s mind straight. Getting him away from that temptress will be a good thing for him.

“No, it’s Eleanor.” Sam’s tone remains the same.

“What? That girl from the party? Pfft, she’s a dime a dozen. They’ve got at least several of her in every country.” Skipper scoffs, as if he hasn’t noticed Sam’s absence and distraction caused by this girl.

“No, not like her,” Sam smiles, all dreamily, then sternly corrects Skipper. “and her name is Eleanor.”

“Okay… I see you’ve fallen for her soft, British voice.” Skipper raises his flippers, pretending to understand. That certainly doesn’t mean he’s going to back off. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you back out there tonight, and you’ll forget all about uh… what’s-her-name. We’ll get you feeling back to normal in no time.” He winks and places his flipper around him again.

Sam slips under Skipper’s flipper. The kid isn’t getting it or he’s purposely circumventing the point. Either way, it’s making this conversation that much harder for Sam.

“No, Skipper. I want to be with her.” Sam finally says outright. There is no way Skipper can misunderstand him now.

“Be with her?” Skipper asks, he doesn’t even want to think about Sam wanting a, ugh, …. relationship. “That’s really none of my business.”

“No, Skipper. Like settle down…” He sighs, “start a family.”

Skipper can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re kidding, right?” When he doesn’t get a response from Sam, he delves deeper into his denial. “Yeah, this is your way of getting back at me for forgetting um… Helen’s name.”

“It’s Eleanor, Skipper!” Sam is growing tired of this charade. What might be the most grating part is Skipper’s complete disregard for Eleanor. He knows how much she means to him.

Skipper recoils a bit. He didn’t expect Sam to respond so harshly.

Sam sighs and regains his patience. He didn’t mean to scare Skipper with his outburst. In fact, the possibility of doing so fills him with shame. “Since I’ve met Eleanor, things have been so much different… It’s hard for me to explain.”

“What are you saying?” Skipper fights back tears. Was this Eleanor really about to come between them? This journey was about them - their brotherhood.

Sam shrugs, he’s currently in limbo between the dearness that thoughts of Eleanor bring him and the guilt he feels for doing this to Skipper. “She just, she makes me so happy, Skipper.”

This isn’t making sense to Skipper. Wasn’t Sam happy before? Why did he need Eleanor to make him happy? “Our adventures - they don’t make you happy?”

“No, Skipper, of course they do.” He reassures him. In this moment, he is reminded just how young Skipper is. Skipper hasn’t experienced anything like what Sam is experiencing now. He really has to thoroughly explain this to him. “But this makes me happy in a different way… I think I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Skipper gasps, as his insecurities take hold of him. “So, you’re abandoning me?” His words reflect betrayal but beneath that is fear.

“What? No, I -” Sam steps back. Skipper’s staring up at him, with tears in his eyes, accusing him of abandoning him. Like his father? No, he’s been there for Skipper since he was a hatchling. How can he even suggest that he’s abandoning him? He doesn’t know whether to be deeply slighted or heartbroken. How can Skipper even think that?

“You did this on purpose!” Skipper accuses even further. How can Sam ditch him for some girl? Just like that? He barely knows her! It isn’t fair.

“What?” Sam gasps, this is getting worse and worse.

“What? Was I bothering you? Do you not want me around anymore?” Skipper gets angrier, as he fights back his tears. This is just like when his dad left him. He’s not good enough for anyone to stay. Even after everything he and Sam had been through, he still wasn’t good enough. Why wasn’t he ever good enough?

Sam has had enough and goes on the defensive. It’s one thing for Skipper to be hurt or insecure. It’s another for him to accuse him of all of these things.

Sam scoffs. “You’re paranoid. You know, I like my life how it is. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, unless it was for something important.” He points to himself.

“Like what? Some big pair of pretty blue eyes and an accent?” Skipper throws out his flippers to the side.

“What do you want me to do? This is my life too, Skipper! I can’t sacrifice my own happiness and future just to keep you from being alone.” What did he want from him? To just ignore his feelings. That wasn’t fair to him. He never meant to fall for Eleanor, but he can’t bring himself to leave her. Skipper’s not the only one impacted by this.

“Of course, you can!”

“What?” Sam is appalled that Skipper would even ask that of him.

“C’mon, Sam, you remember the penguin credo, huh? It was going to be you and me against the world, looking out for each other. That’s how we survive. I make sacrifices for that and you make sacrifices, but in the end - ”

“Skipper, when have you ever done anything for someone besides yourself?” Sam’s words are plain, blunt, and harsh.

Skipper takes a step back; he is speechless. Maybe he’s right. When has he actually done anything for someone else?

“Look, I’m sorry.” Sam sighs, seeing he had cut his brother too deep. The words just slipped out, but he didn’t mean them. “That wasn’t fair of me to say.”

Skipper tries his last-ditch effort, practically begging Sam. “You don’t want to do this, Sam. It’s not you. You’ll be tied down to domestic life. And what if she wants kids? You’ll be taking care of some brat you never wanted!”

“Hey!” Sam finds himself defensive of a chick he hasn’t even had yet. How dare Skipper insinuate that about his future child… if he ended up having children.

“What about all that stuff that you said? When you said you wouldn’t leave me? Was that all just a lie, until you found something better? Is that all this was?” Skipper grabs onto Sam’s flipper with both of his. He feels like a chick again, begging someone, anyone to stay.

“I’m not leaving you, Skipper. I wouldn’t do that. Don’t you know me better than that?” Sam is insulted. He sighs, taking a step back before saying anything else he regrets. “Look, I talked about this with Eleanor.”

Skipper scoffs and rolls his eyes, letting go of Sam. Of course. Eleanor, this. Eleanor, that. She’s all he thinks about anymore.

“Eleanor agreed that you can come and live with us for a while.”

“Oh yay,” Skipper says sarcastically. And what? Live day in and day out, having to deal with their nauseating romance. Where was the adventure in that? Sam had promised him an adventure. Now, all that was ending. What was he supposed to do? Sit around and settle for a life in a zoo?

“If you’re not willing to do that, then you’re going to have to learn how to make it on your own.” Sam looks away. Skipper can’t keep living as the abandoned chick he once was. That wouldn’t get him anywhere. He’s a young adult at this point, after all. Sam clears his throat, still angry after all that has been said.

“And it’s about time.” Sam straightens up. He has to be firm with Skipper. Perhaps, that was something he should have done more.

Skipper gasps.

“But I followed you everywhere. I did everything you asked me to and more. What did I do wrong?” Skipper’s voice shakes, as the tears get more and more difficult to fend off. He doesn’t understand it! He just wishes someone could tell him what he’s doing wrong.

“This isn’t because you’ve done anything wrong, Skipper.” Sam shakes his head. It tore him apart to see his younger brother like this.

Sam continues. “I just have this obligation now. You’ll understand someday. We’d be very happy if you came to live with us, Skipper.” He places a flipper on Skipper’s shoulder. He really, really hopes Skipper accepts the invitation, at least for a little while.

But instead, Skipper lashes out further. He backs away, as if he has been wounded. “Never! And I’ll never turn my back on a friend for a dame.” He hisses.

“Fine.” Sam clears his throat, fighting back tears of his own. Trying to maintain a neutral, calm tone, he extends his flipper. “That’s your decision.”

Rather than shake the flipper of the penguin who is betraying him, Skipper turns away. At least when his father left him, they had barely spent any time together. But this was a whole other level of despair and anger. Skipper had known Sam his entire life. It had just been the two of them. Now he’d rather go live with a stranger for some domestic life?

Sam sighs. Perhaps it’s a good thing Skipper is looking in the opposite direction. He chokes back more tears. However, he maintains his steady tone. “I really hope you change your mind, Skipper. The door’s always open, if you do.”

“Yeah sure.” Skipper remarks sarcastically; he folds his flippers across his chest.

There’s nothing left for Sam to say. What can he say? Nothing it seems will change Skipper’s mind. He’s set in his ways and inflexible to change. But he is still young after all. Maybe it was selfish for him to do this, but no… Skipper was old enough to look out for himself. If that was his choice, so be it. He couldn’t force him to stay and it wouldn’t be right for him to do so even if he could. This was Skipper’s way of forming his own path and making his own mistakes. He had to let Skipper grow, even if that meant growing apart. They would reunite one day. Sam was determined to do so. But for now, it was time to leave.

Once Skipper hears Sam’s footsteps grow distant, the rage inside of him overflows. It’s pumped by boiling fear, shame, and anguish. Spilling over, it comes flooding out of him, as he turns with tears in his eyes and his flippers balled up.

“Fine! Leave! Just like everyone else…” He cries out. Stomping his foot like a child, he watches Sam disappear from view, before he falls to the ground and cries.

Months come to pass and their lives are going in two very different directions. The late November air is chilly and bristles Skipper’s feathers. He is still alone and cold. What was there to do other than indulge in the night life of the city? Whatever city he found himself in. He isn’t even quite sure anymore.

One thing for sure is he is sitting in an alleyway. The local strays had converted some old, thrown out boxes and crates into a makeshift bar. He sits half-slumped over. A five o’clock shadow adorns his chin. It’s clear he’s a few drinks in, as he grabs the can in front of him. He crumples it up and tosses it over his shoulder. THUNK! A distant cat yowls in response.

It seems he has forgotten that he, at one point, engaged the annoying patron sitting next to him in conversation. Truth be told, he hadn’t been listening for the past several minutes. Yet the accent stranger was pouring his heart out to him, non-stop.

“So, it turns out now I am all alone!” The stranger weeps into his wings.

“Ha.” Skipper laughs humorlessly. “Join the club.”

“Really?” The bird perks up.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing left to lose.” Skipper shrugs, stumbling over his words. “Lost my best friend in the entire world just the other day – my only friend.”

“You know, I might know just the thing for guys like us.” The stranger continues.

“And what’s that?” Skipper had heard it all. What would be the one thing that could turn his life around? To make others want to stay? Huh?

That’s when a mission file lands on the bar in front him. Skipper is startled by the suddenness of the object and blinks. Unfamiliar with it, he has no clue what this stranger is getting at.

“Some sort of folder?” Skipper questions, rather unimpressed.

“It’s a mission file. You see, I’m actually a secret agent. I work for an undercover unit of animals that specializes in protecting the world’s most prized treasures.”

“Wait, you’re a secret agent?” This gets Skipper’s attention. Of all the places and times for an opportunity like this to land in his lap…

“Yes, and we’re always looking for new recruits!”

Skipper picks up the file, hiding his excitement behind a veil of skepticism. Here he was down and out, and now it seems like fate had given him another chance. A chance to prove his worth. After all, he had nothing left to lose.

“All right, I’m in.” Skipper nods, handing the file back to his now excited acquaintance.

“Excellent!” The stranger cheers. “I am sure we will be the bestest of pals!”

“Great,” Skipper rolls his eyes. Yeah right, he had heard that one before. Surely, he wasn’t going to let anyone get close to him any time soon. “And what did you say your name was again?”

“Agent Hans. Hans the Puffin,” Hans extends his wing, and Skipper shakes it. It was a deal.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

In the surprisingly green, grassy coast of Iceland, an egg hatched several years ago. Hans the puffin was born to a large family, with many siblings. He was never the strongest of his siblings, yet never the smallest either. For most of his life, he was just there. While many of his siblings and peers could fly at unprecedented heights, he was mostly grounded. He could fly, but it wasn’t very impressive. He could catch fish just fine, never requiring assistance like some of his younger siblings. To the outside observer, one might think the life of Young Hans had no faults.

This could not be farther from the truth. In fact, his normality and mediocrity became the source of great distress for Hans. No matter how many times he practiced his survival skills, they always went unnoticed. He never quite measured up in any facet to the standards set by the other puffins. In crowds, he had the tendency to disappear. Even amongst his family, in the presence of his seven siblings, his parents seemed to forget about him. He was always just there. Nothing special about him - just one of the flock. While blending in was good for survival, it did little for actually living.

When Hans reached adolescence, he was flying in search of food when something smacked him in the beak. Quite literally. By the time he was able to catch the paper within his talons and land, he discovered it was some sort of business card. He picked up the small, white card in his wing and read it.

“Animal Commission Protection Agency?” Beneath it is an address. Hans flips it over. That’s all it reads.

This was the sign he was waiting for! It was his chance to stand out, create an identity for himself, and prove himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone at home would really miss him all that much.

And so, Hans joins the agency the very next day. They even gave him a title - Agent Hans. With this opportunity, he was determined to build his strength and reputation. He set out to make a name for himself and escape the mundaneness of his life.

But life seldom goes to plan. While he would eventually make a name for himself and quite the reputation, it was not in the way he planned. As for his work as a secret agent, he remained mediocre at best. Though he was accepted into the agency, he made no stir after that. No matter how much strength training he did, his flimsy wings would only build so much muscle. As months turned to years, he watched his cohorts thrive while he remained stagnant.

This is where the agency differed greatly from the puffin colony. Back home, his normalcy went unnoticed. But here, if he didn’t make the cut, there were consequences, both professionally and socially. Around the agency’s barracks he became known as the only puffin and, if that weren’t enough, the weakest link. Most of the time, he was ostracized.

Amongst all of the animals in the agency, Hans thought that the penguins would be the most understanding of him. After all, they too were black-and-white seabirds who faced adversity in the wild. Since they were flightless, they might even admire his abilities. What he didn’t account for was their overall strength and sturdiness that surpassed him greatly.

“Hallo, flightless pals!” He tried to approach them several times.

Needless to say, they already knew about his reputation as the weakest. Plus, they surely didn’t like to be reminded of their flightlessness. They often would roll their eyes and walk away. Hans just never felt good enough, not even when he was supposed to stand out.

One day it all became too much for him. He went out to the city to drown his woes away. That night, the warm light of a makeshift, alley bar drew him in like a welcome mat. As he made his way to the bleak yet alluring setting, he came across another bird that looked just as down and out as him. He hopped up onto the stool next to a nearly slouched over penguin. This one didn’t look quite as self-assured as the ones at the agency. Maybe he stood a chance at creating a friendship here.

“Hallo,” Hans gives it a shot.

Skipper barely looks up at the puffin. “Hey,” he takes a swig of the can he is drinking from.

“Mein name is Hans!” Hans scoots closer, while Skipper feels uncomfortable and scoots away.

“Skipper,” Skipper glances over, trying to satisfy the stranger but block this conversation from going any further. He just did not have the energy to deal with this guy right now.

The following morning, Skipper’s five ‘o clock shadow is gone. He looks perhaps the most presentable he has in years. Hans quite giddily introduces him to the agency and presents him for an interview with the board. Sure, Skipper would have to be around more animals when he’d rather be alone, but it was a small price to pay for his dream.

Skipper stands before a board of much larger animals. They sit behind an extended bench and bar, so much so that Skipper quite literally feels as though he is appearing in court. There is a dull arctic wolf, a saggy-faced grizzly bear, and a lion with bifocals to name a few. In the middle of them sits a gigantic, mustached walrus. Other than the board, the room is wide and open. The floor is so shiny he can see his reflection if he looks at it in just the right way.

“Skipper, is it?” The lion adjusts his reading glasses.

“Yeah -” Skipper shakes his head and corrects himself. “Yes, sir.” He stands and salutes.

“And you were referred by… Agent Hans?” The bear sighs. From outside the door, Hans is peaking in and waves at his new best friend.

“So, to cut to the chase, if we may, what makes you think you have what it takes to become a secret agent?” The walrus huffs.

“Well, I single handedly fought and hog-tied a sea lion,” Skipper chuckles.

The room falls silent. They don’t even take notes on what he has just said.

Skipper smiles awkwardly.

“Is that all?” The wolf asks.

“Uh, no, I uh… -” Skipper is unsure of how to convey his determination to them. That didn’t impress him. Overall, he’s unsure of himself.

“Look, our organization is already oversaturated with small, young animals like yourself looking for something to prove.” The wolf clasps her claws together. That’s easy for her to say.

“Then let me prove myself!” Skipper pleads. That wasn’t typically his style, but this was his dream. Finally, he could be like Buck Rockgut. He was so close. Now, he was being told he was what? Too small and weak? They hadn’t even given him a real chance.

“All right,” the walrus speaks, his voice booming throughout the room. His comrades look at him with confusion. It seems they weren’t expecting him to be so accommodating. “We’ll give you the chance to take a test administered to all of our penguin agents.”

Just then, the doors open behind him. Several penguin agents enter, already looking him up and down in a rather judgmental manner. So, this was the new recruit? A young adolescent penguin he still had some growing to do. The bird would probably chicken out once introduced to all the demands of the test. Most did.

One of the penguins, at the front of the queue, with a smirk speaks. “We hereby invoke P.E.L.T.”

“All right,” Skipper shrugs, hiding his uncertainty. “Bring on whatever this P.E.L.T. thing is.”

The penguins all snicker amongst each other. This wasn’t off to a good start. The kid didn’t even know P.E.L.T. What kind of penguin was he? It was an ancient penguin ritual, passed down from generation to generation. Only the fittest of the fit were able to pass P.E.L.T and merit leadership status amongst any rookery.

“The Physical Endurance Leadership Test is not just for any penguin. It’s daunting, dangerous, and few penguins actually make it out alive.” The penguin explains further.

Skipper nods earnestly. He wants this spot in the agency more than anything. And heck, he has nothing more to lose, right? However, he realizes he has to match the other penguins’ confidence if he wants to fit in. He regains his swagger. “Pfft, not a problem. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m sure.”

“Task one,” One of the penguins unravels a decrepit scroll. “Move an iceberg.”

Skipper is now standing on the ledge of a rectangular pool. Right in front of him is a massive, towering iceberg. How on earth was one single penguin supposed to move this thing?

“Your objective is to move this iceberg from one end of the pool to the other.” One of the penguins calls out.

The other penguins sit on bleachers, as if they are watching a sporting event. The lot of them looks rather unimpressed thus far, expecting yet another failed recruit. They sit slouched back, some with flippers folded across their chests. Others check the time, wondering how long it will take for Skipper to give up or get crushed. They are sure to keep their distance from Hans, who sits on the opposite end of the bleachers. He sits eagerly, with tail feathers on the edge of his seat.

“Go palsy walsy!” Hans cheers.

Skipper sighs and turns back to the iceberg. That guy was really starting to get on his nerves. He might even prefer the skepticism of the other penguins. He found the cheering and all the “palsy walsies” patronizing.

Skipper starts by pressing his flippers against the iceberg. It is freezing against his feathers. The sudden change in temperature is enough to cause him to shiver. He puts all of his weight into his flippers, with his feet reaching their very tippy-top toes. He strains every muscle fiber in his body. He is absolutely miniscule next to the colossal chunk of ice. Despite all his efforts, it budges all but an inch.

Skipper growls. “C’mon, c’mon!”

When it doesn’t move any further, Skipper takes a break to catch his breath. “Son of a bass, this is a lot harder than I thought.”

“Ready to call it wraps?” The head penguin offers Skipper an out.

“Nope, nope,” Skipper shakes his head, before going back to it. “I’ve got this.” He says in between breaths.

Skipper then places his back against the ice, which proves to be even colder. Completely resting on the iceberg, he latches his feet onto the ledge of the pool. Wedging himself in between the edge and the ice, he lifts his flippers above his head and pushes back even more on the iceberg. This works even better than he expects, as it loosens the iceberg from the wall. It slides out, sending Skipper down into the frigid water.

Now, the penguins are slightly more interested. They watch the water closer, sitting up a bit more. Skipper emerges from the water, realizing there’s no turning back now. Giving himself just enough time to catch some air, he dives back down. From under water, he speeds towards the wall. Seconds before slamming into the solid side of the pool, he flips around. He plants his feet against the edge and sends himself torpedoing towards the massive obstacle.

It works, sending the iceberg out a few more feet. However, he foresees a problem with this strategy, when he surfaces. The sheer force of his action, sends shards of ice tumbling down towards him. They’re sharp like knives, so he does his best to avoid them. So long as he could avoid the debris, he should be able to continue this strategy.

Back and forth from the wall to the ice he goes. Each knock on the ice, sends more ice tumbling towards him. The chunks are getting larger as well, as the ice on the top is loosening. They are getting harder to avoid, and the stakes are rising. If he gets smacked by one of them, it could leave him with a concussion sending him to the bottom of the pool. This continues until the iceberg reaches about halfway across.

This strategy simply isn’t going to be practical anymore. He’s losing momentum by the time he reaches the ice. Plus, he has to recover quickly each time he surfaces, in order to avoid getting bonked upside the head. He swims a few feet back to get a better gander at the iceberg. He’s tried pushing it this entire time, but what about pulling.

He takes a big, deep breath, filling his lungs as much as possible. Then, he dives down towards the bottom of the deep water. Despite the surplus of ice above the water, there is twice that much hidden underneath. Skipper dives deeper still, making his way under the ice. Gripping with all his might, he grabs onto the ice and swims backwards.

“What’s he doing?” Hans watches the iceberg floating at a decent speed, towards the goal, but no sign of Skipper.

“That fool is pulling the iceberg from underwater.” A penguin says to another, ignoring Hans.

“He’s going to drown himself.” Another shakes his head.

The iceberg slams into the side of the pool. There’s not even room for Skipper to squeeze between the wall and the ice. He certainly completed the task, but now they wait to see if he will have enough time to survive it. At this point, all of the spectators are sitting on the edge of their seats, leaning forward.

Soon enough Skipper comes jetting up from the water and leans up against the iceberg to catch his breath. That was a rather close one. But he doesn’t let it show. He looks back to his judges, propping his head up on a flipper resting nonchalantly on the ice.

“So, what’s next?” He smirks.

“Task two,” the penguins continue their trials. “Endure the coldest of colds.”

“How much longer do I have?” Skipper’s beak chatters.

He is now sitting in a deeper vat of water. It’s a cylindrical, steel pool with a thermometer attached to the outside. It reads -89.6 degrees Celsius. Not only is he treading in the icy water, the pool sits in the headquarter’s walk-in fish freezer. Large frozen fish hang off of hooks behind him and boxes of other frozen foods line the shelves.

All of the spectators are outside of the freezer. A penguin looks at his watch and reports over his headset. “30 more seconds.”

After Skipper completes this task, he is brought back into the spacious board room. Was that it? Only two tasks? Why, he must have passed with flying colors. Skipper is rather pleased with himself, as he prepares to face those skeptical mammals once again.

He does, however, find it odd that the other penguins stay along the far side wall. They won’t enter the room any more than that.

“For the third and final task,” the penguin with the scroll continues.

This captures Skipper’s attention. He turns back to the group of penguins. So this was the last trial? Fine. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Guess, this means that he was almost finished with this P.E.L.T.

“Provoke and evade a polar predator.” The penguin states.

Just then, something gigantic lands feet from Skipper. As he is still looking back at the other penguins, he is tossed in the air by the jolt. The floor shakes with the presence of whatever predator has just landed in front of him.

Skipper turns to see that it is the walrus from before. Up this close, he is enormous. The small penguin looks up at his foe with dread and swallows hard. “You’re a polar predator?”

“Well, walruses mostly eat fish, but the occasional seal or seabird hits the spot.” The walrus shrugs.

This looks like a challenge already just by the sheer size of his foe.

“You win, you can join the agency, but if I win, we’ll be grilling penguin filets for dinner.” The walrus proposes.

From behind their benches, the other board members exchange nods. That would be a rather appetizing meal. So, this really was all or nothing for Skipper. He could still turn back, before the brawl began. If he quit now, he could give himself time to regroup and come up with a strategy to face the foe. But that thought never crossed his mind. He was ready to risk everything he had left.

“Sounds good to me.” Skipper gets in battle position.

He had already survived several encounters with predators - skuas and a sea lion. This was something different though. The walrus was twice the size of the sea lion and likely had experience taking down foes. But Skipper isn’t afraid, at least he doesn’t appear so.

Skipper circles his foe, with side steps, maintaining his fighting position. He’s sure he can out-maneuver his assailant. All he has to do is fluster the foe enough so he wears himself out.

“You call yourself a predator? I bet you couldn’t even catch me if you tried.” Skipper taunts, trying to fluster the giant foe.

“Why don’t you face me and find out?” The walrus huffs.

Skipper dives, tucks, and rolls all around the beast. Despite the two previous tasks, he is still bursting with energy. No matter how many times the walrus turns to face him, he cannot keep up with Skipper.

As the walrus is distracted and looking the other way, Skipper takes this opportunity to send a kick to the walrus’s head. This blindsides the opponent. Skipper lands into a roll and plans his next attack. Kick by kick and punch by punch, he wounds the foe, and makes him dizzy with all his dodges.

The beast soon tires and falls to the floor with a THUD. He is out of breath and left staring at Skipper in amazement and slight horror. Who was this small penguin? “You… you faced death several times during those challenges but kept going. Why?”

Skipper shrugs. “I guess I have nothing left to lose.”

“Interesting…” The walrus squints at Skipper, clearly thinking.

The mammals start taking vigorous notes now.

Turns out Skipper would make quite the agent, especially with this mindset. They took advantage of Skipper’s unrelenting attitude to train him with the most strenuous tasks. Like an experiment, they used him to test the capacities of one single penguin. Without another care in the world, Skipper was focused on his training and whatever mission they sent him out on. He was new and expendable. Once a year had passed, Skipper was lightyears away from where he was when starting at the agency. By year two, he had built up his strength and skills to where he was unsurpassable, even by the other penguins. From expendable rookie to their go-to agent, Skipper flew through the ranks.

Nearly every mission, especially the most pressing, was assigned to Skipper. This was not the case for his “palsy walsy” however. Hans remained average at best, sinking into the background, even to Skipper. While he considered Skipper to be his closest friend, the feeling was not mutual. Skipper certainly wasn’t looking to get attached to anyone. After everything had happened thus far, he decided the safest strategy was to look out for number one. Anyone he dared to get close to would inevitably leave.

Hans, on the other hand, watched Skipper excel with growing envy. It appears Skipper was making a name for himself. He was the one standing out, making a name for himself; he was the one living Hans’s dream.

This reached a head, when Hans was called in to meet with his superiors. Perhaps, he was getting a promotion. Finally, there was a possibility that he would be recognized for all of his hard work. After all, he had been a member of the organization for years. This was much longer than Skipper had been. Still, with the possibility of reward in mind, the idea of going in before the board of agency was daunting.

Hans creeps into the large, open room. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he cringes at each footstep that echoes. He feels about as tall as an ant, with the towering board members staring down at him. The sound of the door creaking behind him runs a chill down his spine.

“Agent Hans,” the walrus bellows.

“Yes, sir!” Hans salutes, standing at attention. He puffs out his chest.

The wolf is next to speak. She scans over her notes, while speaking. “Over the course of your time here at the agency, Hans, it appears you have had limited success.”

“In fact, there are agents much newer to the organization who are already going out on several missions per week. But according to all our records, it looks like you’re still in basic training and HQ-based tasks.” The lion chimes in.

Other agents? Of course, they had to be referring to Skipper. The agency hadn’t seen anyone succeed as quickly as him. The penguin was a prodigy. He came from seemingly out of nowhere and never ceased to impress them. But he didn’t just come out of nowhere, Hans had referred him to the agency. If it hadn’t been for him, Skipper wouldn’t even be here. Where’s his credit for doing that? In fact, Skipper hadn’t even thanked him. It never seemed to end for this penguin. Hans was beginning to feel used. But maybe his jealousy was getting the better of him. After all, Skipper was his friend.

“Listen, Agent Hans, our agency is overcrowded as it is. If we want to keep expanding to find agents who are truly committed to the organization, we’re going to have to start letting our less motivated agents go.” The walrus motions with his flippers.

“B-but I’ve trained so hard to be here. I - I deserve to be here.” Hans stands firm in his shocked indignation. It feels like the room is spinning, the floor is moving beneath his feet.

“We understand your… disappointment with this news.” The bear states rather flippantly.

Understand? They understand? Of course, they didn’t. If they understood, they wouldn’t be firing him. This was his dream too. He had worked so hard to get to where he was at, but it just seemed like he was doomed to remain stagnant. Why couldn’t he ever stand out? It was almost as if he wasn’t meant to succeed. Maybe this secret agent thing wasn’t his shtick. But when would he find what made him special? Would he ever find this? Apparently, he wasn’t good at being helpful.

“That’s why we’re giving you one more chance to prove your worth to the organization.” The walrus huffs, air puffing forward his mustache.

This could be his chance. But he is still focused on the slight it is to even be having this conversation. However, he bites his tongue and listens.

“This should be a softball we’re throwing at you. It’s a breeze of a mission in Copenhagen. You’re to protect the vault, holding the country of Denmark’s most precious treasure.”

This was the sort of work this agency focused on. It wasn’t anything challenging like protecting other animals or a rescue mission. It was simple, straightforward. Yet, he was still intimidated by the idea. In fact, he had never been assigned an outside mission before. He began to wonder why that was. It was almost as if they never even gave him the chance to prove himself. But that wasn’t the case for the other seabirds, especially the penguins. This spiraling of thoughts only fanned the flames of his rage and resentment.

That’s when a terrible scheme popped into his head. If he was no good at being one of the good guys, maybe he was meant to be a bad guy. Perhaps, instead of protecting the world’s treasures, he would be more successful at taking them. Yes, taking them for himself. If he could somehow manage to get his wings on this treasure, he could hoard it. Better yet, he could sell it. Certainly, whatever Denmark considered their most treasured items would be worth a great deal of cash. He would be set for life. Plus, he could really stick it to the organization for daring to fire him. Yes, that’s what he would do! He couldn’t fail - he had to acquire whatever was behind that vault. As a trusted agent, it couldn’t be too difficult to access it. Once taking the treasure, he would disappear and live off the cash it had earned him. He would live like a king and finally make a name for himself - as the puffin that vexed not only the Animal Commisszion Protection Agency, but the entire country of Denmark. His name would go down in history. Everyone would remember the name Hans the Puffin. One way or another.

Hans had prepared for this mission like no other. By the time the big night came, he was more than ready for his sudden career change. Whoever his partner would be, he would tell them that he heard a noise coming from the other side of the vault. Then, he would sneak in, undetected and make off with the goods. If anyone saw him, they wouldn’t think anything of it, right? He was a harmless secret agent just trying to do his job. Or so it would appear. No one would be the wiser.

In his restlessness, he arrived at the rendezvous late. As he made his way up to the site, he could see the outline of his partner. It was a familiar figure, but he couldn’t quite make it out. As he got closer, his fears were confirmed. The very worst agent that they could have chosen to be his partner for the mission. It was none other than their golden child of an agent and his palsy walsy for that matter.

“Hans!” Skipper calls to him, eager to see that he is no longer alone but not too friendly. Again, he wants to keep his distance after getting hurt last. “Looks like we’ll be working together tonight.”

If any of the agents were to catch him, it would be Skipper. Hans had to admit to himself, as much as he hated to, the kid was impressive. But he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. His plan was foolproof - it had to be. Besides whether or not he could pull it off, what was the morality of betraying his friend? But Skipper would be fine. He would never know that Hans stole the treasure until it was too late. The worst thing that would happen to him would be a slap on the flippers. Maybe he would get demoted temporarily or suspended from missions for a while. It would serve him right, possibly give him a sense of what Hans had felt all this time. That was fair, right?

“Oh, did you hear that?” Hans jumps at this pseudo-noise he had apparently heard.

“Hear what?” Skipper immediately raises his guard.

“It sounded like it came from the other side of the vault!” Hans points with urgency.

“Hmm,” Skipper is still very serious. Could there be a possible break-in? And so early into their shift? This wasn’t good. Maybe they should have one of them stationed on the opposite end. Though he wasn’t even sure there was a means of entrance over there.

Skipper is already moving. “I’ll go scope it out and report back.”

As he is mid-slide, Hans stops him. “Wait!”

Skipper stops and leaps back to his feet. “What?”

“I’ll - ” Just as Hans proposes that he should be the one to go. He realizes he has even better access to the vault where he currently stands. Slipping in and out would be a piece of cake. “Wait right here until you get back.”

“All right,” Skipper is a little confused by Hans’s jumpiness. Normally he would find this suspicious, but he shakes off the thought. He ignores his gut instinct. Hans was probably just nervous for his first mission outside of the agency. Not to mention, he had a lot riding on the success of this mission. Skipper had heard all about it through the grapevine.

As soon as Skipper reaches the other side of the vault, he scans his surroundings. Nothing. There was no one there - not a soul. So, what could have made that noise? Old building structure maybe? Again, he assumes it was Hans’s nerves getting the best of him. He shakes his head, but goes to take the threat seriously. It was better to be paranoid than sorry, so he searched every nook and cranny. Still, there was no sign of any intruder.

That’s when a blaring alarm sends his heart out of rhythm for a second. He jumps. That wasn’t possible. He was guarding the back and Hans was stationed at the front. This had to be a false alarm. Literally. He had never had such a thing happen when he was on a case. What in the mad, mad, mad world was going on? He races back towards the front.

Hans stands in the vault. Looks like he forgot to account for the chance they had an alarm system. There is a glaringly red light above, shining down on his attempted crime. It was rather unflattering. But was more startling perhaps was the so-called treasure that surrounded him. It wasn’t jewels, diamonds, gold, or cash.

“Open-faced sandwiches? Really?” Hans looks down disappointed at his loot. What could he do with these?

“Hans,” Skipper reaches the ajar door. This dunce was going to get them in trouble. He scolds. “What’re you doing in here? If the Danes catch us in here, they’re going to think we were stealing their…”

Skipper is just as surprised as Hans. “Open-faced sandwiches?”

Hans shrugs.

“Listen, Hans,” Skipper begins talking as Hans gets lost in his own thoughts. “We either have to get out of here or deactivate this alarm somehow.”

As Hans looks from the open-faced sandwiches to Skipper, his mind hatches a new plan. He can hardly believe this wasn’t his original plan. It was so dastardly yet so brilliant. Why incriminate himself when he could find himself a fall guy? Clearly, he wasn’t going to make any money off of these sandwiches. It wouldn’t be enough to last him a month even. Instead, he could elevate his status within the organization. Here Skipper was in this vault with him. Who’s to say Skipper wasn’t the villain all along, trying to work his way up the ranks of the agency just to rob them blind at the first chance? Would that be a good enough story? Who knows but it would be Hans’s word against Skipper’s. Oh, but could he justify it? Could he really betray his friend for praise and notoriety? It had always been so easy for Skipper, when Hans had struggled and scrounged his way to … the middle of the pack. But if he framed Skipper here and now, Hans might even receive a promotion. He would be hailed a hero. Skipper would be fired no doubt and brought to shame, but he would find other opportunities, right? Surely, he would bounce back. Hans needed this. No matter what decision he made, there was no going back.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

“Skipper,” Hans gasps.

Skipper turns to Hans, already jumpy. The penguin is already busy at work, trying to shut up the alarm. He slaps it. “Huh?”

“What are you doing breaking into Denmark’s most precious vault?” Hans creates his own reality. Maybe Skipper would question himself.

Skipper stops, not buying it. He’s more confused than anything. “What?”

Hans steps back towards the open door. He leans out into the night air and cups his wings to his beak. “Help! Help! The penguin is stealing the sandwiches!”

“Hans!” Skipper approaches the puffin. Had he lost it? “What in the world is going on here?”

Hans doesn’t let Skipper get too close. Before Skipper can reach him, he spins around. In his extended wing is a large, lengthy fish. It is long enough and threatening enough to be a makeshift sword. He points it directly at Skipper’s chest.

Skipper steps back and raises his flippers slightly. “A fish?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be a sword.” Hans grumbles. “But you get the idea!”

“You’re not… - you’re not framing me for this, are you?” Skipper asks, still backing up as Hans approaches. Despite his determination to keep his distance from the other agents, for some reason he feels upset by this. Disappointment? Betrayal?

“Sorry, Skipper,” Hans continues, backing Skipper up against the wall. “But there’s no other way for me to get ahead. You’ve had it so easy this whole time. This way I can finally bring honor to the name Hans the Puffin!”

“By being a fraud?” Skipper glares. Now, he’s starting to feel anger.

Hans shrugs. “Meh, these things happen.”

Hans’s shrug gives Skipper enough time to find another fish laying on the floor. It’s his only chance to save himself. What would he do if the Danish guards got here to find them both in the vault? He would be apprehended. And who knows what the Danes would do with him then? Not just the Danes, but the organization. He would be a disgrace. His dream would be stolen from him in a matter of hours. After everything he’s gone through, this can’t be how his story ends. No, he can’t let that happen.

Skipper stomps on the very tip of the fish’s head. This causes it to flip up in the air. He catches it in his flipper and is finally about to rebut against Hans.

This intimidates Hans. As soon as Skipper extends the fish out to challenge him, he realizes that this will not be quite as easy as he thought. Skipper surely was going to put up a fight. Now it was truly a battle of wills.

Unfortunately for Hans, Skipper was very strong. They battle back and forth with the fish. However, Hans was very determined. He fights back rather well. Skipper wasn’t prepared for Hans to be so vicious. It was as if something had just possessed him.

Suddenly Skipper spots a ladder. It leads up to a landing that wraps around the vault. If he could get up there, he could give himself the advantage. In the midst of their back-and-forth, suddenly Skipper stops and makes a break for the ladder. Hans chases after him, nearly on his tailfeather. Once Skipper reaches the third rung, Hans reaches up and grabs his foot.

Skipper looks down, as Hans tries to tug with all of his might. If he could throw Skipper from the ladder, perhaps he would land on his back. The penguin would be helpless with his chest and underbelly exposed.

Realizing this, Skipper swings his leg back towards Hans. Just when Hans thinks he’s got a hold on Skipper, the penguin slams his leg back towards the ladder. Unprepared for this, Hans is thrown into the wall by the force.

As Hans regains his balance, Skipper rushes his way up the ladder. He has to gather his thoughts. Should he leave? If he did, he would be abandoning his post. That’s a serious offense. If he stayed, Hans would surely frame him or they would be apprehended together. He was trapped, ambushed. How long had that daffy puffin been planning this scheme?

Too late! Hans had made his way up the ladder. What would happen next? More chase or would Skipper finally face him? Admittedly, he kind of liked the height that this platform gave their battle. It really raised the stakes.

“Look, Hans,” Skipper is really sweating it out. He doesn’t want any more of this. What can he say to save himself? “I’m sorry for being so cold to you, that I was never your… palsy walsy.” He cringes as he says that term of endearment.

“We were never palsy walsies?” Hans tilts his head. This was news to him.

Skipper straightens up, as if he has just stepped on a Lego. He instantly regrets opening his beak. “In retrospect, maybe that wasn’t the best thing for me to say at the moment.” He shifts back to his urgent tone. “But Hans, you can’t get away with this. The Danes will catch on. It’s not too late to do the right thing.”

From outside of the vault, they hear approaching footsteps. There’s shouting and eventually, the light of flashlights shoots through the opening. Skipper and Hans instinctively turn at the sound. Ready or not, the guards were coming. What was it going to come down to?

As Skipper is distracted by the guards, Hans sees his chance. Swiftly, he sweeps his leg, barely lifting it from the ground. He sends it straight behind Skipper’s foot and uses enough force to flip Skipper back over the side of the platform.

Skipper tumbles off the platform. It almost feels as though he is falling in slow motion. There goes his dream, his life as he knows it. Why did this keep happening to him?

He falls flat on his beak. “Ah, cheap shot, Hans!” He groans back up at his adversary.

By the time Skipper gets to his feet, he is surrounded by the Danish guards. Skipper gets in a battle position, but doesn’t want to have to fight the Danes unless he has to. That’s his last resort. Maybe he could make a deal with Hans. This guy couldn’t really frame him. He didn’t have the guts.

“Hans! Help me out, here!” Skipper looks up at his rival.

Hans seems to get great enjoyment out of this. He saunters on the platform and places a wing to his beak in feigned sympathy. “Well, my, my, Skipper. Looks like you’re in some sort of a pickle.”

“C’mon, Hans, do the right thing! We can say this was all just some accident.” Skipper pleads.

“I guess some of us were never meant to be the hero.” Hans sighs.

“No. You no-good, double crossing sea bird!” Skipper couldn’t believe it. How could anyone be so infuriating?

“Farvel, palsy walsy.” Hans salutes.

Then, Hans begins squawking, pointing at Skipper. He lets out a terrible cry as if he has just witnessed something horrendous. “Help! He’s stealing the open-faced sandwiches! Oh, the humanity!”

Of course, to the human guards, their conversation just sounds like a bunch of squawking. However, based on Hans’s tone and body language they can decipher the urgency.

“Look! The puffin is alerting us to the penguin’s treachery!” One of the guards points to Hans.

“Try saying that five times fast.” Another one laughs.

“Get the flightless waterfowl!” Rush at him all at once.

“Flightless waterfowl?” Skipper is offended. He is a penguin and proud of it.

Skipper begins dodging their attempts at grabbing him. Soon he has no choice but to start fighting back. He dodges a human, then kicks another. It lands just in the right spot to where the man falls unconscious. Looks like that training was sure paying off.

Now, just for fun, he starts putting the open-faced sandwiches together. This aggravates the Danish. It is sacrilege, blasphemous in their eyes. If he was going to become a villain, then he wanted to leave his mark too. He takes joy in displacing his anger and spite onto the sandwiches and attacking guards.

Hans takes notice that Skipper is knocking out all of the guards. What would happen if it were just him and Skipper conscious? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Never had he imagined that one angry penguin could take on all of those humans. It really appeared to be no sweat for him either.

Once the last human is out cold, Skipper looks up at Hans and growls. He was coming for him now. Hans lets out a yelp and takes off running towards the next ladder. Maybe he could outrun Skipper and make it to the higher platforms. Just when Skipper tries to make his move for Hans, there is more noise coming from out of the vault. Those guards must have called for backup.

As much as wants his revenge against Hans, he knows he needs to get out of there. Things wouldn’t be good for him if the next round of guards found him. Looks like he’d have to let Hans go for now.

Skipper rushes out of the vault to immediately be in the spotlight of several flashlights. The guards began shouting, as Skipper could barely think over the sound. Now it has become a chase through the streets of Copenhagen. How could one penguin outrun a bunch of humans, with their oversized legs?

Somehow Skipper makes it to the dock, with the guards still hot on his trail. He’ll need to make it to one of the boats. There appears to be one leaving the harbor now. That’s his only chance at escape. If he can make it aboard, he’ll be home free… at least for now.

Suddenly, he feels two large, icy hands wrap around him. He’s in one pinch of a grip. As much as Skipper wriggles and squirms, he can’t pry himself loose. Just as it looks like it is game over, Skipper lets his animal instincts take over. In a last-ditch resort, he bites the thumb of the human holding him.

His beak could be rather sharp. And good thing too, the blonde man releases Skipper from his grasp and cries out in pain. That was going to leave a scar. As the man had dived in to grab Skipper, the penguin rushed around to snag a weapon, anything off of this guy’s utility belt that could help him.

Just then, the rest of the mob catches up with him. He’s surrounded by agents once more. This time he doesn’t feel quite as confident that he could take on this many humans at once.

“You’re surrounded, fiend! Surrender!” The captain demands.

Just then, Skipper remembers the surprise he had acquired from the agent. He smirks. This wasn’t the end of the line at all. With that, he lifts the flipper from behind his back and reveals the round object he is holding.

“No!” The captain shouts.

But before he or any of the guards are able to do anything, Skipper chucks it at the ground. POOF! A cloud of smoke fills the air, obscuring any sight the Danes might have had of him. Smoke bombs, huh? That was rather nifty. He’d have to remember that.

In the cloud of smoke, Skipper is able to slip past the guards. He makes his way to the end of the deck and dives in the frigid water. He had a boat to catch.

Finally, Skipper swims his way to the boat and drags himself over the side of the ship. From all the excitement, he is reaching exhaustion. He falls to the ship’s deck with a THUD. That was a close one. At last, finally he could rest.

But as soon as he flops to the floor, he must leap back up to his feet. Two eyes stare down at him. A human, no less, is looking down at him in amazement. But no, he was a threat. Anyone, anything was a threat now. Skipper couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Skipper backs up in his fear, trembling. He looks at the man with eyes wide with fear. No matter what this stranger wanted, there was nothing Skipper could do. He was cornered this time.

“Hey, little guy,” the man gently greets Skipper. He is just surprised to see a penguin on his ship. They were literally at the opposite end of the world from Antarctica.

The man takes a step closer and Skipper panics. No, he didn’t want to hurt him but what if he had no choice? What if this was someone else after him? Skipper can’t think straight. It’s as if his brain has a heartbeat. The pounding won’t stop.

Without further thought, Skipper leaps up and knocks the man unconscious with his flipper. The ruckus must have caused a stir on the boat, as Skipper can hear even more footsteps approaching. His breath is shallow and hurried in the cold, night air. What can he do? What can he do?

Eventually, a whole group of humans is standing in front of him. They look on with shock. What scene had they just stumbled upon? A crew member was unconscious and there stood a penguin. This was a group of tourists. But what if they knew what he had done? What he had done… knocking out the crewmember? The Danish vault? But no… that wasn’t him. Did it matter? They were after him. They were all still after him. What if they knew too? What if they were after him too? All of them? In this hyperventilation, Skipper attacks without thinking.

Pretty soon, the whole group is knocked out. This only causes Skipper to panic more. What had he done? He looks down at his flippers in terror. He had been capable of this all along. His fear spans towards not only the humans, the agents, but also himself. He backs up slowly, staring down at his flippers as if he had done something depraved. The humans were just fine in reality, but that thought didn’t come to Skipper’s mind at the time. He wasn’t a hero after all. Hans was right. Now it looks as though he might even be a monster… This wasn’t supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! He was supposed to be out there adventuring with Sam. Now he was a fugitive, a criminal, a threat to others.

As Skipper panics, a bright light nearly blinds him. He squints. From the shore, a beam of light points directly at him. “There! Over there on that ship!” A magnified voice calls out.

He’s been spotted! They’re coming for him for sure now. Without a second thought, he leaps over the side of the ship. Back into the frigid waters, he swims into the darkness of the night. He would have to make it to shore, somewhere where he could hide.

Several hours into the night, Skipper finds himself back in London. He wanders the streets in search of somewhere to hide. Every beep of a distant car horn, bark from a stray dog, or other sudden noise sends him into a brief panic. He knows he just has to settle himself down, but how? That would be his only way of surviving this. He needed a level-head.

His pace hastens. He looks all around him. He stops and scans the perimeter. Repeat.

He has never felt this on edge before. In a flash, a streetlight above him flickers. He darts under a street bench. After a moment of cowering, he sees that there is no present danger. What has happened to him? But the much grimmer question is: what will become of him?

At last, he reaches the gates of the London Zoo. It had been two years since he had seen Sam last. That was when they had their fallout. But surely, Sam would help him right? He had to. He was his brother. And that was the penguin credo. The door was always open to him, just like Sam had said the last time they spoke. They had to look out for each other. Right? Skipper makes his way to the penguin habitat in a flash.

Underneath the sort of slide-like structures is something of a cave. That must be where they are - where Sam is. Skipper rushes to the entrances and knocks vigorously. “Sam! Sam! Sam!” He pounds his flipper against the habitat. Nearly out of breath, he looks over his shoulder.

The sudden sound causes commotion in the habitat. Yes! He had gotten their attention. He wasn’t alone anymore. Thank goodness! He wasn’t going to be alone in all of this. He was safe now that Sam was here. Sam would know what to do.

Sam, looking a bit older, rushes to the door. Both look just as surprised to see one another. Sam, in his grogginess, squints at his younger brother. Was that really him? Why did he come back now? Why was it so late?

“Skipper?” He looks confused now, wiping away the sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Skipper immediately goes back to panicking. At least this way, he could show Sam just how desperate he was. “I did something bad, Sam. I really, really messed up. And now – now – … they’re after me, Sam! They’re coming for me!”

Sam takes a step back. What had happened to his little brother? It was as if he were looking at a stranger. “Skipper, what are you talking about?”

“No, please, Sam!” Skipper reaches out and grabs ahold of Sam’s shoulders in desperation. “You’ve got to help me! Please!”

“Skipper – “ Sam works up a stern voice but is interrupted by Skipper’s ravings.

“Please, Sam! I’m so scared – I don’t know what to do.” He’s nearly in tears.

Sam is like a statue in his flippers, as Skipper leans his head on his brother and begins to cry. He can hear and feel Sam sigh.

“Skipper, you need to leave.” Sam removes Skipper’s flippers from his shoulder.

“What?” Skipper gasps, tears forming in his eyes. No, no. This couldn’t actually be happening. Sam wouldn’t turn him away. He couldn’t. This had to be a mistake.

“You need to go.” Sam clears his throat, standing up straight.

“But, didn’t you hear me? I need you. I’m in big trouble, Sam, and I don’t know what to do!” Skipper pleads, tears in his eyes. He needed Sam, his brother, to solve things again.

“And that’s why you can’t stay here, Skipper.” Sam looks back into the habitat briefly. “I have to protect my family. If someone really is after you, what happens if they come here? I can’t let anything happen to Eleanor…, to … -”

“But, Sam, I need – ” Skipper begs. Sam just doesn’t understand. Surely, if he knew, he would help him. Of course, he would, right?

“You need to leave.” Sam turns away, hiding his pain. He didn’t want to do this to Skipper. Darn him for making him go through this again.

“Please,” Skipper whimpers pitifully.

“I said ‘no’. Now, go.” Sam doesn’t even look back at Skipper.

How could he be rejected by his own brother? This couldn’t be happening. First, he lost his dream and now, the only family he had was shutting him out completely. He can’t let this happen.

“Please!” Skipper grabs Sam’s flipper.

This causes Sam to instinctually prepare for a fight. He spins around and raises his fist, more so to scare Skipper. And it works. Skipper recoils and lets go of Sam’s flipper. It slides out of his grasp, as Sam makes his way back in.

Sam returns inside, with his head in his flippers. Had he really just turned away his brother like that? He had no other choice. There was no telling the trouble that Skipper had gotten himself into. What if whoever was coming after him went after his family next? He couldn’t forgive himself if Eleanor were to get hurt. It seems he had already failed Skipper. He couldn’t bare to do similarly by Eleanor or his future child.

“Is everything all right, love?” Eleanor hugs Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam clears his throat. “Everything’s fine. Skipper’s just got to… to learn how to make it on his own. That’s all.”

From outside of the habitat, Skipper stands out in the cold. For a second he stops to process what has just happened. With shaking flippers, he wraps himself up and stares at his feet. Abandoned, betrayed. He was all alone. There wasn’t a soul in the universe he could turn to now.

Skipper wandered and wandered for miles. Careful to stay out of the light of streetlights and headlights, for his whole aimless journey, he never rested. Every corner, he checked to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He jumped trains and boats, looking to get as far away as possible. His past, traveling the world purposefully picking and choosing destinations, was a distant dream. Those days were gone. He was now confined to the shadows. Was this what Manfredi and Johnson felt like? This was certainly not the life he ever wanted for himself. But now he was trapped in it - like a nightmare he could never wake up from. It was too late to turn back. It had only been a few hours of being on the run, and yet he already didn’t know how he could live this way.

At some point in the night, Skipper was miserably stumbling through a city street when he saw two familiar shadows up ahead. He peered through the rain that was steadily coming down at this point. They were penguins just like him. In fact, he knew them. Where had he seen them before? Yes, that’s right! A couple years ago, before he was alone - before he joined the agency. As he got closer, he saw their faces better. It was the Chinstrap Sisters. Finally! Someone who would help him. They had to understand his predicament. They were wanted criminals too, after all.

As he approached, they watched him closely. Surely, they recognized him. Why were they looking at him like that? They let him approach but showed no sign of a greeting. It was spooky.

“Am I glad to see you both!” Skipper breaks the ice, sighing in relief.

Before Skipper can say anything else, Crimson sends a swift, roundhouse kick to the back of his head. The force sends Skipper collapsing to the cold, damp street. The last thing he sees is the glow of street lights, before succumbing to unconsciousness. He lays there, more vulnerable than ever before.

“Are we sure about this, Crim?” Violet, the younger and more hesitant of the two, queries.

“C’mon,” Crim determinedly steps over Skipper’s limp body. “Let’s see what he’s got.” She completely ignores her sister’s worry. This isn’t the lifestyle for the faint of heart.

Violet and Crimson work together to flip Skipper over, so he is laying belly-up. The two examine him to see if he has anything of value on him. However, their search comes up short. He doesn’t even have anything stored in his gut, when Crimson reaches down his gullet to check.

“Nothing,” Violet sighs.

“Look, if we turn him in to the Danes, we’ll be set for life.” Crimson tries to reason with her sister. It seems they had spoken about this before. “We’ll be absolved of any of our crimes. And, just think of that reward money.”

Violet was a scammer, but she wasn’t heartless. Despite her career of stealing from strangers, she couldn’t justify delving out what would be a death sentence. Then again, the chance to walk around in broad daylight again was so difficult to pass up. They had the fate of this practical-stranger in their flippers.

“Vi, he’s been deemed public enemy number one in Denmark. If we don’t turn him in, someone else will. Now why would we pass up on that chance?” Her sister continues, clearly fixed in her stance.

“But if they catch him, they’ll -” Violet begins.

“It’s none of our business what they do with him.” Crimson tries to bring her back to the point.

“But what about Manfredi and Johnson?” Violet looks for another angle.

“What about them?” Crimson rolls her eyes. Those two are no threat.

“They were associated with him at one point, right? What would they think if we turned him in?” Vi is half-asking, half-persuading. “We wouldn’t want to lose our good terms with them, no matter how incompetent they are.”

That did cause Crimson to pause. Would this be a betrayal of their accomplices? It’s not like she had time to ask them. Violet was right in a way, if they did reap the reward money, there was no going back. This penguin at her feet would never taste freedom again.

“And what about that larger penguin he was traveling with?” Violet prodes further. “What are the chances he would come after us?”

Again, Violet’s right. That penguin was much larger and seemed very protective of Skipper. He’s obviously not here now, but that doesn’t mean much. If he ever found out, he could come after them. Now, that was a liability. They simply didn’t know what he was capable of. With Johnson and Manfredi, the worst they would do is break all ties. With this Sam character, who knows? He could turn them in for their crimes or worse.

“You’re right,” Crimson stands up. She turns to leave.

“But we can’t just leave him for dead in the street, either.” Violet hasn’t moved from her crouched position. “What about cars? Dogs? Stray cats? Laying here unconscious he doesn’t stand much of a chance.”

“Then let them deal with him.” Crimson turns once again, growing frustrated with her sister. Maybe she should reconsider the idea of turning him in. “If he wakes up, what are the chances he’ll remember it was us.”

Violet grabs her flipper, stopping her. “What if we ditch him somewhere safe?”

“And why would we go out of our way to do that?” Crimson asks.

“You would want someone to do that for me.” Violet shrugs, running out of arguments. She knows her sister and her conscience. This would weigh on her. “Plus, we could use this as a leverage with Johnson and Manfredi. They’d owe us… for whatever that’s worth.”

The next thing Skipper knows, he is opening his eyes. The ceiling and light above look blurry, as he is still recovering from his blackout. His head sure hurts, but from what he can’t seem to remember. With a flipper, he reaches back and holds his sore head. Something is below him, propping him up like a bed. It isn’t a bed, however, as there is one right across the room from him. Who’s bedroom is this? No, it’s a hotel room. His flippers fumble through this “bedding”, as he feels slips of paper. He looks down to see blue, red, purple, and brown slips of paper. Deutschmarks? He picks one up to examine it. Counterfeit deutschmarks? How’d he end up with these? Clearly, if someone else placed him here, he would be in Danish custody. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Startled is an understatement, as he begins to awaken more.

“Skipper,” a raspy voice whispers.

“Huh?” Skipper jumps.

“Hey, hey, relax, friend.” A flipper rests on his shoulder.

Skipper turns to find Manfredi beside him. He leans over intently, with concern in his eyes. How did he get here?

“Wha? Where am I? What’s going?” Skipper stammers in a cold sweat.

“We’re here, it’s all right.” Manfredi does his best to comfort Skipper.

“Where is here?” Skipper looks around.

“We’re in a hotel, somewhere in Kyoto.” Johnson looks out the window, peeking out a slit in the blinds. “What all do you remember from last night?” Johnson turns back to Skipper.

“I don’t know…” Skipper rubs his head again. “Uh… The last thing I remember is… Sam… oh no.”

“What happened with Sam?” Manfredi raises his faux brow in concern.

“I messed up.” Skipper places a flipper to his forehead. “I really messed up.”

“Hey, it’s all right.” Manfredi places a firm flipper on Skipper’s shoulder. “We’re here now. Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like he’s ever going to speak to me again.” Skipper sighs.

“Hey, not everybody’s cut out for this kind of life.” Johnson shrugs, making his way over to Skipper.

“I’m sure he’ll come back around.” Manfredi reassures Skipper.

“As for you, Mr. Public Enemy Number One, we’ve got more immediate concerns.” Johnson huffs.

“You know about Denmark?” Skipper tenses. They aren’t going to turn him in, are they? No, he can trust them. They’re old friends. Friends… yeah, for whatever that’s worth. Hans sure proved that friends can’t always be trusted.

“Well, kid, word travels fast.” Manfredi shrugs. It appears they aren’t the only ones who know.

“We’re going to have to lay low for a little bit.” Johnson looks to Manfredi, who nods. “And as for you, we’re going to have to get you some aliases, if you want to keep the hide on your back.”

“Yeah!” Skipper leaps up. Partially eager at their willingness to help him and partially for the opportunity to go about incognito. The thought excites him. Now, that was real spy stuff.

“You stick with us, and you’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry.” Manfredi reassures Skipper.

“Don’t illude the kid, Manfredi. There’s always a risk, especially now that he’s on the lam.” Johnson slaps Manfredi on the backside of his head.

“Hey, Johnson,” Skipper looks around mystified again. “How did I get here? How did you guys find me?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” Johnson pats Skipper on the back, before waddling off.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

In a matter of months, Skipper’s life changed yet again. He was back to his old wanderings. With Manfredi and Johnson, there was even a bit more freedom. They were willing to push the limits of morality and legality much more than Sam ever had. Due to their own philosophies on life, they were much more lenient with Skipper and his behavior. While Sam had been a guiding flipper in his life, Manfredi and Johnson were more like pals. They never really reflected on the kind of example they were setting for the young penguin. After all, he was a fugitive now. Morality and responsibility seemed like a mute point. Besides, concerns with ethics were not always something they could afford.

The three penguins stand in an alleyway somewhere in Monte Carlo. Outside of a large casino, it appears they are preparing to venture in. For many reasons, they can’t just waltz in. For one, animals aren’t technically allowed in the building. And two, given Skipper’s predicament, they couldn’t run the risk of anyone recognizing him. Manfredi and Johnson had connections to a secret animal gambling spot, within one of the reserved rooms of the casino. It was a quick and easy way to pay for their next meal, and hopefully moreso. The grift just had to go well.

Skipper stands on an empty milk crate. This being the first mission they allowed him to join in on, he is admittedly a bit jumpy. He taps his foot subtly. Behind him Manfredi stands on his tippy toes, securing an eyepatch over Skipper’s left eye. Skipper’s face scrunches with the uncomfortableness. You know, he really could have done that himself.

“All right, kid, remember your name?” Johnson quizzes Skipper. He circles the milk crate.

“Uh… Two-Bit Hood… Jack the Knife” Skipper stammers, trying to remember. C’mon, it’s a ridiculously long name.

“Erh!” Manfredi makes a buzzer noise.

“What? I was right!” Skipper was certain of it. He had studied, repeating his alias profile for an hour in his head.

“You’ve got to be a lot more convincing than that.” Johnson shakes his head. Maybe the kid just didn’t have what it takes. If that is the case, he doesn’t stand much of a chance out here in the world.

“And where’d the accent go?” Manfredi pokes out from behind Skipper’s side. He tilts his head and complains. “I liked the accent.”

Skipper sighs. He has to pump himself back. That snafu back in Denmark really did a number on his confidence… and psyche among other things. “Right, right, right,” Skipper pauses before getting into character.

“Two-Bit Hood Jack the Knife, at your service,” Skipper musters up a convincing, polished British accent.

“All right, Jack, show us that trick you can do.” Johnson looks at him quizzically.

With that, Skipper pulls out a dagger. He unsheathes it in the blink of an eye. In fact, the speed of his draw causes Manfredi to flinch. He surely wouldn’t want to be at odds with Skipper. Upon drawing the dagger, he balances it on the very tip of his flipper. Confidently, he rests the opposite flipper on his hip and leans on his back foot. Now, this is the easy part.

“Good,” Johnson rubs his chin.

Manfredi’s not so convinced. He makes a lipsmack sound. “You know, it’s still missing something.”

Johnson turns to give him a bewildered look. However, before he can look back at him, Manfredi is already digging around in their treasure chest of costume supplies. It’s really just a dinged up briefcase they nabbed off some human. But it has the piece of resistance to top off Skipper’s new look.

Manfredi presses a mustache straight onto Skipper’s beak. The unsuspecting penguin goes cross-eyed, looking at the sudden addition to his ensemble. Just as quickly as he placed the mustache, Manfredi is off looking for a mirror. He excitedly brings it inches from Skipper’s face.

“Ooh, I like it!” Skipper admires his reflection in the handheld mirror. He traces his chin with his flipper smoothly. Making faces at his reflection, including a smirk and a wink, the others can tell he is getting quite a kick out of himself.

“All right, don’t stroke your ego too hard. We’ve got a mission to do.” Johnson lowers the mirror.

“Righty-o,” Skipper clears his throat, returning to his British accent.

Once settled inside the casino, the three split up so as to avoid suspicion. Skipper, as priorly instructed, makes his way to a card table. He was quite familiar with the game Stomp the Wombat. Manfredi and Johnson liked to play and would often deal him in. Whatever fish they had left over from the week, they would gamble in their Saturday night game.

As confident as a tiger, Skipper sits down at a table with many other, much larger animals. They all stare at him, as he sits down so brazenly. Many of them are in fact predators, but Skipper keeps his cool. Even the herbivores at the table look rough. He pays them no mind and goes to stick a card up against his forehead.

“You lost, penguin?” A ruffle-feathered hawk grumbles.

This emits a chuckle from some of the surrounding animals. It boils Skipper’s blood to be pointed out so blatantly. However, he keeps his persona. It gives him all the more reason to continue playing.

“Pardon me, gents” Skipper stands and does a little bow. “The name’s Two-Bit Hood Jack the Knife.” He then does his trick with the dagger.

The animals are rather surprised by his display. They all stare on, both amazed and confused at the sight. It didn’t seem like this British gent would know a whole lot about Stomp the Wombat. So far, the tiny penguin had just shown them a parlor trick.

While they are none the wiser, Manfredi uses the distraction to sneak up. He crawls from behind Skipper to a spot underneath the table. Phase one of the plan was complete.

“Now,” Skipper slams the dagger down into the table. With a devilish look in his eye and stern turn to his voice, he shifts the entire mood at the table. “I’d rather get to playing if it’s all the same with you gents.”

It seems they had underestimated this penguin. The way in which he thrusted the knife into the table startled the animals. Though none of them would admit it. Partially, it was to throw his weight around admittedly, but also to prevent them from noticing the movement of the tablecloth as Manfredi settled in.

Throughout the game, Skipper slyly allows his cards to dip below the table. The mood above the table is tense, as the participants exchange heated glances. Every once in a while, Manfredi will snag a card from Skipper’s deck and replace it with another. Every time Skipper feels a tap on his foot, he knows to show his hand.

Skipper clears his throat. “I believe the term is ‘read them and weep’, gents.” Skipper lays out his winning cards and reclines back, crossing his flippers over his chest.

This creates a stir amongst the other players. Some throw their cards down frustratedly at the table. Others are in disbelief that the penguin has just won yet another round. At this point, Skipper has a mountain of cash piled up. It far surpasses any scrapes of wagers the other players have remaining. He appears to be getting rather cocky at this point. A fact the other animals do not take too kindly to.

“Shall we play another round, gov’nah?” Skipper smirks, evoking grumbles.

The Tasmanian devil beside him angrily throws down his cards. However, in his wrath, he accidentally sent one floating down towards the floor. Skipper is too wrapped up in the moment and his own success that he doesn’t notice. The Tasmanian devil disgruntledly drops to the floor and reaches for the card. But before he can reach his paw out for it, a flipper snatches it from under the tablecloth.

“Wait a second…” The mammal scratches his chin.

He lifts the tablecloth to find Manfredi staring back at him. For a second they stare at each other dumbfoundedly. Then, Manfredi chuckles nervously. “Uh, hi.” He smiles and waves.

“Hey!” The Tasmanian devil stands up, pointing down at the table. “The bird is cheating!”

Skipper stands up, offended for being accused of a crime he may… or may not have committed. “I did none of the sort, I assure you!”

Just then, he feels Manfredi slapping his foot frantically from below the table. That’s the signal. They’d been caught. Still, Skipper tries to make the best of the situation.

“Oh, would you look at the time? Well, I think you all lost enough money as it is. Let’s call it.” Skipper begins scraping the money off the table and into a sack. In the process, he has lost track of his accent.
“Hey,” another player, this one a stray dog, barks out. “He’s not even British!”

“Not even British?” A sensitive iguana sniffles at the deceit.

“Now, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for - ” Skipper begins backing away from the angry crowd.

Just then, the Tasmanian devil emerges from underneath the table. It seems he had dug his way under the tablecloth while Skipper was talking. By the time he is on his feet, he is dragging Manfredi out. His claws grip onto Manfredi’s large, round head.

Skipper steps behind Manfredi instinctively. He’s not sure what to do at this point. They’ve been had, snitched on. But Manfredi’s response isn’t what Skipper thought it would be. The penguin in front of him suddenly slouches a bit, hanging his head in what would appear to be shame. He sighs and puts his flippers together in front of him.

“All right,” Manfredi sighs. “You’ve caught us. We’re just a couple of hungry penguins out here looking for our next meal. Scrimping every last morsel and scavenging through the streets.” He looks up at the much larger animals with pupils that seem to double in size. Not just that, but he also tilts his head and frowns.

Some of the players “aw” while others scratch their heads. It makes them wonder what they were doing, getting so angry at a couple of penguins. They were pretty adorable after all, so fragile and vulnerable. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing if they kept the money, right?

While all of this is happening, Skipper stands back amazed. Manfredi was really laying it on thick. Surely, he didn’t believe all that about himself or Johnson. He was using his natural, penguin charm as a shield. Like some sort of cloak of adorability. Whatever it was, it was working and Skipper liked it.

As Manfredi is batting his eyes at the mob, a commotion comes from across the room. The penguins look simultaneously to find Johnson running back into the room. He appears frantic and is running at full speed. Well, there was their distraction. Better late than never.

“Scram!” He yells, instructing Skipper and Manfredi.

Not seconds later, a human bursts through the door. Johnson must have purposefully drawn the attention of one of the humans. He knew by leading them to the room it would cause a ruckus. The commotion gives them a chance to escape.

“Animals?” The staff member exclaims, utterly shocked by the underground casino system occurring.

Skipper, Manfredi, and Johnson are among the first animals to make it out of the room. They retreat back into the alleyway where they had prepared before. Pressed up against the wall, Johnson pushes Skipper back into the shadow of the building.

Skipper can hardly wait to leap out and ask Manfredi a million questions.

“That was…” Skipper pauses, “so cool!” He bursts.

Manfredi is doubled over, still catching his breath. Johnson is still surveying their surroundings. But Skipper is reeling from the adrenaline rushing in his body.

“Yeah, we probably would’ve gotten even more loot, if it weren’t for that mammal ratting us out.” Manfredi breathlessly affirms.

“Let’s do it again!” Skipper is nearly bouncing, as he tosses them the bag of cash.

Manfredi and Johnson exchange glances. How is this kid still so peppy after all of that? He must really like that adrenaline rush. Either way, it looks like he proved himself as a beneficial asset. They could continue to use his energy in the future.

“Just, uh, just watch the cockiness next time, okay?” Manfredi suggests.

“Sure thing.” Skipper notes. Let’s be honest, Skipper has yet to lose that cockiness.

Johnson slaps his flippers together. “Okay, you knuckleheads, let’s get to counting the loot.”

A few months later, the three find themselves in Buenos Aires. Their latest scam took a few days to plan. They placed posters strategically in alleyways and crevices where strays and zoo animals walkabout. It seemed that the animal-side of town was all abuzz with talk of the famous singer and playbird Diego Garcia’s visit.

The only thing is… there is no Diego Garcia. At least, there is no singer by the name of Diego Garcia. Turns out this allegedly famous figure is Skipper, honing in on his second alias. If this plan works out, they’ll be sitting pretty and will certainly have enough dough to attain their next meal. Skipper had grown quite accustomed to the crime syndicate of the stray animals by now. Their chances look pretty fair. While he isn’t much of a singer, he does relate to the international playbird persona. He himself has become quite the playbird over the past few months.

Somewhere in an alleyway, a crowd had all gathered to see the visiting star. The animals are jam-packed between the two walls, each one trying to sneak a peek at the renowned celebrity. At the very back of the alley is a makeshift stage. There is a rather nice red curtain obscuring the back of the stage, where Skipper stands in wait to wow the crowd. Johnson, with Manfredi beside him, handles the talking. He has a fake microphone - styrofoam they had shaped and painted.

“Introducing the one, the only” Johnson starts, but the top of the microphone falls off and rolls on the stage. He leaps down to pick it up and places it back on top of the other styrofoam piece. “Uh, Diego Garcia!” Johnson recovers quite enthusiastically.

The crowd erupts in cheers, with some of the young animals weeping and appendages going up in the air. Skipper steps out in an Elvis-esque wig and a light blue cumberbund around his waist. He puts on a good show, smiling, waving, and winking at the crowd. In fact, he does everything short of the thing that the animals supposedly came there for - singing.

“Ahh! It’s him! It’s really him!” One of the fans cries out.

Skipper steps off the stage and into the crowd.

“Only five dollars to get your picture with the stunningly handsome Diego Garcia” Manfredi calls, walking through the crowd with a basket. The animals literally begin throwing money at him at this point. He even gets smacked in the head with a few coins.

“Ladies, ladies, now, there’s plenty of me to go around.” Skipper assures them in character. He is being swarmed by grabby hands, paws, and flippers. It is a hurricane of chaos, but he likes the attention.

From outside of the queue, a young, female porcupine sighs longingly. “Oh, I just love his music!”

A snooty sloth pushes up his thick-framed glasses on his nose. “Really? Name one of his songs.”

Eventually, the crowd has died down. Manfredi’s basket is overflowing with money. They’ve got loads of cash to spend on their next debaucherous trip. While Manfredi and Johnson are counting the stash, Skipper is still chatting with two female coatimundis. He has his flippers around their wastes. There is a coatimundi on either side of him. Their long tails sway flirtatiously around him.

“Hey,” Skipper calls over, getting the attention of his friends. “Manfredi, Johnson, I’ll catch up with you knuckleheads later. Don’t wait up.”

He winks and turns around, strutting away with the two ladies. Johnson just shakes his head and goes back to counting the money. Oh that scoundrel Skipper. He was becoming quite the casanova. To each his own. Manfredi, however, is still lost in thought.

“Pretty good, huh?” Johnson lifts a faux brow at Manfredi, gloating. His idea was turning out to be a lot more prosperous than Manfredi had originally suspected it would be.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Manfredi shrugs. “When you’re rich people just give you money.”

“Looks like he’s really coming into his own out here.” Johnson sighs and reflects.

“Yeah, he’s getting quite good at this.” Manfredi is less positive in his affect. “I don’t know, Johnson, you think we might be taking advantage of the kid?”

“What do you mean?” Johnson asks.

“I mean, you’ve seen his skills. Knowing how accident prone we are, neither of us could do half of what he does. Are you sure we’re not setting him out to be our fall-guy?” Manfredi explains.

“What’s wrong with that? Let the kid pull his weight?” Johnson shrugs, wanting to end this conversation. They were having great success with Skipper on their team.

“But look how much it’s changing him. He wasn’t like this when we started.” Manfredi sighs.

“So? The kid’s growing up. We don’t have to feel guilty for that. We’re showing him how the real world is for us penguins.” Johnson defends himself.

“Now, don’t get angry when I say this but… have you ever thought about settling down somewhere in a zoo?” Manfredi hesitantly suggests.

Johnson scoffs. He begins walking off. “Seriously, Manfredi?”

“What? I know what your thoughts are on those things but… We’re getting older you know and that knucklehead will be in real danger if we get caught.” Manfredi expels his worry.

“He’ll be fine. He’s a smart kid and hardy, too. He’s proven that already.” Johnson’s done with the conversation.

“You’re right.” Manfredi sighs. “I’m thinking too much. But it’s always good to have a plan B.”

Thus, that heist concluded. And the team moves on to their next destination. Skipper wants to see Mathura, India. Especially at night, the lights were supposedly quite the sight. It’s quite sappy, but who knows how long he’ll still be kicking and roaming free. Why not make the most of it, right? He surely lives by that lifestyle, rather hedonistic in nature. And with Manfredi and Johnson’s lax supervision, he practically does anything he wants.

There is definitely incentive for Manfredi and Johnson to greenlight Skipper’s idea. Turns out a city along the way has quite the fish processing plant. With the right persona, Skipper could sweet-talk them into a fat stack of grouper and various other kinds of fish. Thus, the wealthy industrialist Lincoln Douglas was born… or, well, hatched.

Just right outside of a fish and shrimp plant in Kolkata, India is an abandoned factory. Unbeknownst to the humans, this has become a warehouse for some animals who make their living in selling stolen or unwanted seafood from the factory. It is the perfect spot to snag a sackful of supper. The team would be eating well for at least a week if they could pull off this swindle. All Manfredi and Johnson seem to have to do is allow Skipper to work his magic, while they focus on collecting the fish. It is an utterly foolproof plan.

In his latest ruse, Skipper dons a monocle over his left eye and a top hat on the very top of his flat head. He waddles through the streets regally, with his feet lightly sweeping the ground. Despite Lincoln Douglas’s dignified gate, he relies on a short, ornate walking cane. Atop is a sphere of silver for him to rest his flipper on as he trods. The opposite flipper occasionally reaches for his golden pocket watch. His chest is puffed out, covered by an expensive-looking green vest with thin, vertical yellow stripes.

Manfredi and Johnson flank him swiftly. They are careful to keep pace with him, yet not daring to walk in front of him or too close behind. For their disguise, they are wearing black sunglasses and ties. It appears they will be playing the role of Lincoln Douglas’s loyal bodyguards whom he pays very meagerly. Manfredi insisted on coming up with backstories for their characters, so his alias’s name is Boris. He told them lots of extra details, but they had long forgotten it by now.

They are immediately met at the door by a towering bengal tiger. With his thick, muscular furry arms and the permanent scowl. He stares down the trio as they approach in such a presumptuous manner. This must be security for the site.

“Good day, my good man!” Skipper calls out with a voice similar to his Two-Bit Hood Jack the Knife but a skosh more polished. He extends his cane forward, diagonally in front of him.

The tiger just grunts.

“I see you are a man of fews words, sir!” Skipper taps his cane on the ground.

“No entry.” The tiger slams a paw into the door he is guarding. His claws scrape the rusty metal of the door.

“Why, I see you are doing your due diligence, sir, but rest assured, I happen to be the owner, CEO, CFO, and C-EI-EI-O of this facility!” Skipper responds with unmistakable audacity. It would be difficult for anyone to deny him.

“Oh,” The tiger’s eyes expand suddenly. His posture changes entirely, as he lowers his head and hunches his shoulders forward. “Right this way, sir.” The tiger opens the door for them, with his head still low and his tail between his legs.

Skipper leads the group into the bustling marketplace. Animals of all kinds are going around buying from the vendors at each station. The tables are old, shabby and some are just rusted conveyor belts that haven’t functioned in a decade or more. Needless to say, the fish, and potential loot, is abounding. The tiger leads them directly to an even gruffer-looking rhinoceros in a foreman hat.

“My good sir, if you wouldn’t mind taking me on a tour of my fine facility, while my associates take a brief sampling of our product.” Skipper smooth-talks the rhino, placing a casual flipper on the rhino’s shin. This is the highest part of the animal Skipper can comfortably reach.

Johnson whips out a sack, preparing to gather their fill of fish.

“For safety precautions of course.” Skipper reassures his excuse for collecting the product.

And so, everything is going according to plan. Skipper is dragged along on a dull and tedious tour, while Manfredi and Johnson cram shrimp, grouper, tilapia, and more in their goodie bag. Despite his boredom, Skipper has no problem staying in character. Methodically, he eyes the product and taps the obsolete machinery with his cane when given the chance.

Just as it seems the mission will be yet another to add to the books, something grabs Skipper’s attention. A familiar figure steps in through the door. His blood runs cold. As he stares at the doorway, he is completely missing whatever the rhino has to say. It surely doesn’t make his character any more convincing.

The wretched puffin from his past, Hans, stands in the very doorway of the building. Not only that, but he is surrounded by penguin agents. They just so happen to be the very same penguins he himself had trained with at the agency. Hans is leading a team? That can’t be possible. What with his track record? And then it hits Skipper. That was Hans’s reward for betraying him. The board must have promoted him to leading his own squadron. And all for fabricating some lie.

Hans had lied, and yet he’s being praised as if a hero. The irony of that made Skipper sick to his stomach. It was truly a cruel twist of fate. Hans had surely gotten his wish of fame and notoriety. It only came at the expense of Skipper’s entire life and freedom. Skipper was innocent and yet was being hunted like a criminal, when Hans was the guilty one. Skipper’s mind races. Hans made him out to be some sort of criminal.

Skipper looks around at where he is. All of a sudden, Hans was right all along. He had become a criminal. Perhaps, it had been inside of him all along. Maybe Hans was just the first to see it. With Manfredi and Johnson, he had spent the last several months of his life scamming and stealing. What is he doing? This isn’t how he was raised.

Skipper’s alias begins to falter. “Uh, hey - ”

The rhino turns back to Skipper, partially surprised by the break in Skipper’s accent. But maybe his ears are playing tricks on him.

“Um,” Skipper clears his throat and regains his composure momentarily.

At the door, Hans is busy showing the tiger a picture of Skipper, then Johnson, and then Manfredi. Below each picture in big, bold letters it is clearly written “WANTED”. The tiger leans in to get a better glimpse of each of the pictures. He holds them up and goes through each of them individually. Clearly, he’s concentrating as he stares at each of them for a long time, while scratching his chin.

Skipper wastes not a second more. “Pardon me, sir. But it seems I must step away for a moment. It’ll be but a moment.”

Skipper weaves in and out of the crowd, keeping his head low. To ensure his face is not visible, he tips his top hat low. In his hurried pace, he makes sure not to run. That would only alert the team to his presence. He is playing a dangerous game of balancing his pace. Surely, he is in a hurry but he also must stifle his surging anxiety to ensure that he does not draw attention to himself.

He takes a breath of relief when he reaches Manfredi and Johnson. They are still very much gathering their barings. However, this feeling of relief is fleeting.

“Psst! Manfredi, Johnson!” Skipper whispers urgently.

“It’s Boris, remember?” Manfredi places a flipper on his hip. What’s the point of even crafting a backstory if no one will roll with it.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Johnson stops what he’s doing.

“The Danes. The agency. They’re here!” Skipper is frantic.

Manfredi and Johnson glance over to the door. It appears neither the agents nor the tiger are standing there anymore. That’s either good or really, really bad. As they scan the crowd, it appears to be the latter. The tiger seems to be leading the agents directly to them.

“Let’s get going.” Johnson whispers, placing a flipper on Skipper’s back. It slightly begins pushing him towards the exit.

Just as this happens. The tiger interrupts them. “Excuse me, Mr. Douglas. I hate to bother you, but these gentlemen would like to have a word with you and your associates.”

Skipper instantly turns to see them all. They’re close now. Instantly, he makes direct eye contact with Hans. Skipper’s eyes grow wide in fear. Immediately, Hans recognizes him. The puffin smirks, as he believes he now has Skipper cornered. It is finally time to finish this once and for all. In putting Skipper away, or worse, he could finally rest assured that his own crimes will never be uncovered.

“Evac!” Johnson gives the signal. It’s not much of a plan but it’s something.

The trio takes off in a flash. Their odds of outrunning such a large beast and highly trained agents is low. Or, it would be if they didn’t have Skipper on their side. They slide directly beneath tables and in between patrons. As a matter of fact, they haphazardly knock a few of them over. Most of Skipper’s disguise goes flying off behind him. There is no concealing his identity anymore. Just as the foes are gaining on them, Skipper purposefully topples a table over. It sends shrimp flying up into the air and landing down on the agents like a seafood monsoon.

This gives them enough of an advantage to evacuate the factory. Racing through the streets of Kolkata, the three are in a desperate race for their lives. Surely, if any of them got caught, it would be a long time before they were able to wander around again. Perhaps, that was most true for Skipper. That is why he is the most frantic out of the bunch. Normally, getting chased by foes might be exciting for the penguin, but this time, it is downright terrifying.

Even though they had lost sight of their pursuers, Skipper is still on edge. Now standing on the border of a jungle, they are in tall grass. It is a rather terrific hiding spot. Other than having to watch out for the grazing elephants, it seems that they are homefree.

“All right, pal, you’re fine.” Johnson is a little taken back by Skipper’s reaction.

He’s still worked up in a tizzy, looking over his shoulders and peaking through the grass.

“We’re safe now, Skipper. You can relax.” Manfredi tries to pacify him.

“But what if they’re still out there? What if they’re hiding in the grass, just waiting to get the jump on us?” Skipper places his flippers on his beak.

Manfredi and Johnson exchange glances. They’ve never seen Skipper like this.

“You’re real paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnson asks. “All those months living on the lam must’ve really gotten to you.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m - ” Skipper wraps his flippers around himself to try and calm himself down. He is embarrassed for making such a scene. This isn’t how he wants to appear in front of his friends. He’s strong, tough - not some simpering coward.

“Are you sure?” Manfredi is still concerned. This isn’t like Skipper to act this way. Maybe all their schemes are weighing on him.

“Yeah,” Skipper shakes himself out of it literally. And it’s as if he’s back to normal. “Just had to blow off some steam.”

“Okay…” Manfredi is not so convinced. Standing next to Johnson, he looks over at him as if to say he told him so.

“Exactly!” Johnson looks back at the elephant standing behind him. He is directly in front of one of its towering feet. “And if anything were to go wrong, we can ride one of these bad boys away.”

And with that, he slaps the elephant’s foot. What he doesn’t realize is that it was never an elephant standing behind him. It just so happened to be a decoy, a trap. The hollow replica elephant had been filled with a several smoke bombs and a net. And the sheer force of his sudden slap is enough to send it into an instant combustion.

Smoke fills the air, as Skipper struggles to breathe and see. The reaction of the dust and smoke is suffocating, as Skipper does his best to bat away the debris. It all happened so fast. He is completely startled and shaken. Amidst the smoke, he can’t see a thing. Where are his friends? Where are his friends? He panics. What’s happening?

When the smoke clears, Manfredi and Johnson are on the ground. Completely ensnared in a net, they struggle to get out. Without much room, they are on top of one another. This leaves Skipper all by himself. Just as he realizes this whole thing is a trap, a familiar Danish accent taunts him.

“Skipper, the penguin, you are hereby under arrest by the country of Denmark and the Animal Commission Protection Agency. For your crimes against Denmark, you have been declared public enemy number one by the state.”

Skipper turns slowly. With shaking flippers, he raises them above his head. So this is how it’s all going to end?

“Skipper! Hey, Skipper!” Johnson calls out to the penguin. But his back is turned to them at this point.

“Untie us, Skipper!” Manfredi shouts.

But it appears Skipper is too paralyzed by fear.

“Manfredi and Johnson, you are both wanted for your series of crimes against animals across the globe. Tsk, tsk, tsk, and for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive. Oh my, what a group!” Hans shakes his head in sarcastic sympathy.

Hans places his wings on his hips and smirks at Skipper. “So sorry it has to end this way, palsy walsy. But who knows? You might fare quite well at the gulag.”

He then gestures for his team to apprehend Skipper. However, the approaching of the agents, instinctually sends Skipper into fight mode. In yet another frenzy, he unfreezes and grabs one agent by the flipper. Given the sudden change in demeanor, it takes the agent by surprise. Due to this, Skipper is able to put all of his might into lifting the agent off of the ground and swinging him into the other approaching agent.

The collision sends both of them flying far out into the brush. Skipper doesn’t have much time to rest, as the remainder of the agents come at him with full force. This penguin is dangerous and they now know that more than ever. He shows that it is a mistake to ever cross him. This is especially true in his riled up state. The remaining three penguins are punched, kicked, slapped, and thrown to the side as if they were nothing but paperdolls. Skipper’s style of fighting is much more feral at this moment. It is a terrifying sight to witness, even for Manfredi and Johnson, and especially for Hans.

Pretty soon it is just Skipper and Hans. Skipper glares down his foe as they are the last two standing. Now it’s time for him to get his revenge. There is nothing but pure rage and hatred in his eyes as he takes a step towards Hans. Hans had taken everything from him - his dream, his reputation, and more importantly, the only family he had. Now it is his chance to end this here and now. The hunter and hunted have switched positions. Hans is completely at his mercy.

Instead of facing him in this state, Hans panics and takes off running. Skipper growls and contemplates running after him. It’s as if he has lost track of what he is doing. All that he is focused on in that moment is revenge.

“Skipper!” Manfredi cries.

“Earth to Skipper!” Johnson calls out.

Hearing their voices from behind him, causes him to immediately freeze. He doesn’t recognize them at first. Are there more Danes? More agents here to come and take him away? No, he can’t let that happen.

Skipper spins around and prepares to fight. He lands, with a fist inches from Manfredi’s face. It appears the two penguins had managed to escape the netting. Manfredi immediately winces, as Skipper stops. What is he doing? How could he have almost hurt his friend? Why was he fighting the agents he had once trained with?

“Hey, hey,” Johnson tries to calm Skipper, he extends a flipper out. “It’s okay. It’s us. They’re gone.”

At first, Skipper doesn’t say anything. He lowers his stance and scans the area once more. Despite Johnson’s guarantee, he is still very much shaken.

“They’re gone?” He repeats, his voice trembling.

“Oh,” Manfredi gasps. “You’re shaking.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Johnson doesn’t know what to say. He had never seen Skipper react that way. Turns out Skipper could get rather aggressive when his life was in danger. It was a handy skill to have, but the after effects were difficult to watch.

Skipper just shakes his head.

“C’mon, let’s get you somewhere safe.” Manfredi puts a flipper around Skipper, ushering him away.

Now, hours later, the three penguins have made their way to safety. Just as Skipper had wanted, they made it to Mathura. Johnson had managed to sneak them into a rather nice hotel. So that Skipper could get a better view of the lights, Manfredi insisted that they spend the evening out on the rooftop. Skipper, who is still practically catatonic from earlier, acquiesced.

Skipper sits alone, overlooking the lights, while Manfredi and Johnson are farther back. It seems they are having a rather important conversation. He stares out over the lights, silently and solemnly revisiting the events from earlier. The end of everything had been so close. What might be even more terrifying is what he was capable of to prevent that. In the end, Hans was right. He is a criminal. He may not have been before Denmark, but he is now. Though Manfredi and Johnson are trying to keep their voices low, Skipper is listening in. While they were his friends, he still doesn’t like the idea of a hushed conversation going on around him. Are they going to try to get rid of him? Maybe he’s too much of a risk. His presence could be a liability. With these possibilities in mind, Skipper is hypervigilant.

“You really think he’s going to be okay with that?” Johnson asks in a hush.

“Sh,” Manfredi urges him to lower his voice. He glances over at Skipper, who is still looking at the lights. “He’s got to be. We have no other choice.”

“I guess you were right about these things changing him, huh?” Johnson sighs.

“It’s for the best. And who knows, we might like the change of pace.” Manfredi suggests. “So, we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” Johnson nods. His flipper is forced.

Skipper pretends as if he were not listening in, when they approach him. Manfredi places a flipper on his shoulder to check on him. Johnson tends to hang back a bit more, casually overlooking the city with him. So this is when they leave him too, huh? Skipper prepares himself.

“Skipper, we’ve been talking.” Manfredi starts. “And we think it might be best that we lay low for a while.”

“It’s not exactly safe for any of us to be wandering around anymore. Well, with your record - ” Johnson is cut short by an elbow to the ribs from Manfredi. “And with us, getting older.”

“Okay, so we’ll go on fewer missions?” Skipper looks up at them confused. This isn’t the conversation he thought they’d be having.

“Not exactly,” Johnson sighs.

“We’ve been looking into options for us - places we could live. The Central Park Zoo looks like it’s gathering more penguins.” Manfredi calmly explains.

“A zoo?” Skipper stands up. This is even worse than them leaving him behind. “But you hate the thought of living in a zoo. Don’t you remember when you said you’d never want to perform for humans, Johnson?”

“Yeah, but…” Johnson looks at Manfredi, before answering. He sighs. “We don’t have much of a choice now.”

“Hey, and we’ll make the most of it. Who says we can’t have fun in our… What’s it called again? Our Enclosure?” Manfredi tries to lighten the mood.

“Our cage.” Johnson huffs.

“This is my fault.” Skipper says, coming to a realization.

“No, no, this isn’t your fault at all.” Manfredi can sense Skipper is getting worked up again.

“Yeah, we’ve been talking about this for a month at least.” Johnson doesn’t want the kid to blame himself.

“No, you’re only doing this because I put you in danger.” Skipper steps back. “If - if they had never come for me today, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“But think of how nice it’ll be. Scheduled feeding times, maybe a nice pool to swim in. No predators.” Manfredi persuades.

“I’m putting you in danger, aren’t I? I - I’m a hazard. I’m a criminal.” Skipper shrinks, retreating deeper inside himself.

“Hey, we’re all criminals here if that makes you feel any better.” Johnson shrugs.

“We’ll leave in the morning for New York City.” Manfredi gets back to the point. “And once we get there, you won’t have to worry about Hans or Denmark again.”

Skipper had really done it this time. This isn’t like either of them to suggest settling down and living in a zoo. What kind of life had he sentenced them to? They were doing just fine before they met him, just like Sam, like his parents. Everyone was so much better off, before he came into their lives. He has to face it, the common denominator in all of these situations is him. He’s the problem, the burden. His mother never came back from fishing, when she only went out to feed him. After that, his father couldn’t even stand to be around him.

And now that he is gone, Sam is probably so much happier. But for Manfredi and Johnson, it was too late. He had already drug them down with him. Yes, how could he not see this all along? How could he keep making the same mistakes again and again? He was putting everyone in danger. If someone didn’t betray him, they were sure to face the consequences. He is a curse. At least, this is what his insecurities and anxiety tell him at the moment.

“Let’s get some sleep, Skipper.” Johnson pats Skipper on the shoulder before heading back inside. Sure, he didn’t want to go to a zoo, but he felt bad for the kid. Clearly, after today, he can’t continue surviving this way. They had to make a change. It would be for the best.

While Manfredi and Johnson are fast asleep, Skipper lays awake. He never wanted any of this. However, it seems like he didn’t have much of a choice. His father was right. This is a cold, cruel world. Hans was right. Some were never meant to be heroes. It seems he was born to be a burden. And as long as he was on the run, he continued to be a danger to everyone he cared about. This wasn’t the life he envisioned for himself at all. Yet these were the cards he had been dealt. Even before his friends had fallen asleep, Skipper knew he had no intentions of traveling with them to New York. His mind was made up. Using his stealth, Skipper creeps out of the room and flees into the night.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

…..……………………………………… Entry #1 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: It’s about 1400 hours, somewhere deep in the jungles of Mexico. I’ve decided to settle here, after separating from Manfredi and Johnson. It seems as good a place as any to spend the remainder of my days. It’s almost as far from Denmark as I can get and it’s nice and secluded… that way, I won’t be a danger to anyone anymore. Maybe this is the isolation I deserve…

“Anyway! Turns out, I found a tourist camp just a couple of miles south. It had gobs of stuff to scavenge through. Given the price on my head, I rooted through for some tools first. Something I can use to protect myself, when Hans or the Danes eventually come after me here. I found the niftiest crossbow! It’s got a nice red handle and the grip is pretty good. You never know the things you’ll find out in the world.

“Besides the crossbow, I also found this tape recorder. Yeah, it’s pretty corny but I decided to start this log. I guess, it gives me someone to talk to… and a trace that I was here, when something happens…

“But anywho, it’s just like the logs that ship captains and heroic voyagers would keep, right? Yeah, yeah…

“Anyway, signing off.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #2 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: It’s, uh, uh… about 0100 hours… if I had to guess. I’m not really too sure anymore. It’s been a long night. I can’t really manage to sleep… I haven’t for the past few nights. Every time I do, I … I jolt myself awake. What if they come while I’m asleep? I’d never know. That would be the obvious time for them to capture me. I’d be a fool to let them! Yeah, I have to… - I have to keep watch.

He sighs. “What am I doing? I can’t stay up all night. And I certainly can’t sleep during the day either… the Danes aren’t the only danger now that I’m back out here in nature.

He laughs humorlessly. “Maybe it would be for the best if a jaguar or something snatched me. It sure beats getting sent to a penal colony or work camp. And at least someone would get a meal out of it. It might be best for everyone if that happened, actually… I’ve endangered just about everyone who’s ever trusted me.

There is rustling in the bushes nearby. Skipper begins to hyperventilate and cries softly. “Not now, please. Not now. They’re here! They’re after me…”

Several minutes later, the rustling stops. Whatever must have been in the bushes had no interest. Skipper whispers again, now even more agitated. “Urrh, I need some sleep. I - I … this is torture! No, this is what I deserve, right? First, I turned Sam away and now I put Manfredi and Johnson at risk. I’m, I’m just a hazard. I can put up with this. I have to put up with this.

“Not everyone can be the hero. Just like Hans said. Yeah, he’s, he’s right. Heck, he’s even a commander in the spy agency now. He must have done something right. I was never meant to be anything more than a burden. Now it’s best I keep my distance.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. For my safety, but more importantly for the ones I care about. I’ll stay here in the jungle. I’ll make do. Yeah, I’ll, I’ll make do.

“S-s-igning off.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #3 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: when’s it going to be, huh? When are they coming for me? I know, it’s only a matter of time before Hans and the Danes track me down again.” Skipper is nearly out of breath when he talks, barely coherent.

“Um,” he swallows, “uh, 0300 hours, I think… I can’t sleep again. Every little noise wakes me up and sends my thoughts spiraling like a whirlpool.”

Skipper hesitates in turning off his only source of company. “Signing off.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #4 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: I, uh, can’t seem to remember what day it is. All I know is I’ve been out here for at least a few weeks. A month maybe? Right? A month? Yeah.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #5 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: I had a dream Sam and I were back in Antarctica. And you know what? I was happy there.”

Skipper sighs. “Who even am I anymore?”

…..……………………………………… Entry #6 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: It’s late morning, approximately 1100 hours if I’m reading the sun correctly.”

Skipper sighs. “I didn’t get much sleep again last night. Not sure why I even -”

The recording is interrupted by the sound of a far-off scream. “Help! Help! Somebody please help!”

Against his better judgment, Skipper drops the tape recorder and takes off towards the sound.

…..……………………………………… Entry #7 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: 1300 hours. I can hardly believe what just happened.” Skipper is breathless but much more invigorated.

“I was just entering my latest log entry, when I heard a noise from over by the river. It’s usually where I get my fish, so I knew the way. There was a whole family of tapirs crossing when it looked like one of the little ones got his foot caught on a submerged branch. If he didn’t get out soon, he’d be swept under the current.

“The father had crossed the river and was waiting with his kids. There was nothing he could do. But, when I got there… when I got there, I just dove in.

“I didn’t even have time to think about it. I just dove in. Who knows if I had the strength to move the branch or contend against the raging, swirling currents? But I did it!

“And wouldn’t you know, I managed to dive down and free the little guy’s foot.”

Skipper chuckles breathlessly. “Looks like I might still be good for something after all.”

“It must have been all that training with the agency that prepared me for that.” Skipper sighs, still stunned.

“And the father, he - he was so relieved when I pulled his son out of the water. The look he had in his eyes when his son was safe… it - it was… - something I hadn’t seen before, except for when…. Nevermind.

“Ha, then he looked like wanted to give me a hug. So, I got out of there real quick, ha.

“Signing off.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #8 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: 0800 hours. It looks like the tapir family left me a present. They dropped off a bunch of fruit to me this morning. The sound of them approaching woke me up admittedly. I’ve been so tired lately…

He laughs, “the thought of a bunch of tapirs causing me such a scare. It was rather embarrassing, but the gift is thoughtful.”

…..……………………………………… Entry #9 …………………………………………..

“Skipper log: Things have really seemed to take a turn for… dare I say the better here.

“I’ve certainly made myself useful among the jungle denizens. Just yesterday I managed to free a couple of toucans from a poacher’s net.

“Befriending the locals was never something on my itinerary for hiding in the jungle. But I guess, it couldn’t hurt to help out, right? I’ll just keep my distance is all.

“Signing off,”

..……………………………………… Entry #10.…………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Welp, turns out I’ve gotten quite the reputation now. It seems like I’ve helped just about every animal in this rainforest. ‘ Least that’s what it feels like now that most of them recognize me… and are so comfortable with me.

“I guess, it could be worse. And hey, I’m finally putting all this training to good use. Turns out, I’ve been sleeping a lot better lately too.

“I’ve even brushed up on a bit of my Spanish. The kids call me Senor Pinguino. It’s kinda… adorable actually.” Skipper chuckles.

“But right, not getting too attached. Bad things happen when I get attached.

“Signing off.”

..……………………………………… Entry #11 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: It’s, uh, about” Skipper yawns, “2200 hours.

“Completed another raid of the human camp. And I’m glad I did. Turns out one of those hair-impaired mammals must be studying military strategy, or was.

“I managed to snag an audiobook about an ancient snow monkey warrior!”

Skipper regains his cool, after geeking out. “Eh, he’s no Buck Rockgut, but uh, this audiobook cassette tape sure is hard to put down.

“But, nonetheless, General Shingin insists warriors must get a full night’s rest to perform at their highest, deadliest potential. Looks like I’ll be hitting the hay… or leaves.

“Signing off.”

..……………………………………… Entry #12 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: I haven’t really made an entry in a while. I’ve been so wrapped up in General Shingin and his martial strategies. Between listening to that, training, and stepping in whenever I’m needed with the other animals, I’ve been rather busy. It’s good to have something to do I guess. It feels a lot better than sitting around all day with my thoughts, ha…

“But nevertheless, I already feel stronger! Under the General’s guidance and following up with my own personal training, I feel as fit as ever to protect and serve the other animals. That and… you know, defend myself if need be.

“Ah, but they haven’t come for me yet! I’ve been here for a while now. Maybe it’s safe to say they won’t find me here. And even if they do, I think I can take ‘em.

“Well, I’m off to do more reading… or listening. The next chapter goes over General Shingin’s leadership strategy!

“Signing off.”

….……………………………………… Entry #13 …………………………………………..

“Skipper log: It’s 1100 hours and I just completed General Shingin’s biography in full. Front to back!

“Ha, you know, it kinda almost reminded me of those bedtime stories… Sam would always tell me about Buck Rockgut….

Skipper pauses, catching himself. “Um…

“But hey! I’m already feeling much stronger! I haven’t felt this good since my days training back at the agency.

“Now, all I need to do is maintain this training regiment.

“Signing off.”

…..…………………………………… Entry #14 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: It’s, uh, uh, 1400 hours. Well, it’s been about a week since I finished the audiobook. I’ve been sticking to the training, and, of course, helping the locals. But for the rest of the day…

“I guess, I just need more action. Something to keep me busy. If I’m alone for long enough, I start thinking again, worrying again.

Skipper laugh coldly, “you know, about all the things I’ve floundered up. Guess I need another hobby, huh?

“Signing off.”

….……………………………………… Entry #15 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Well, it’s 1800 hours. Went back to the human camp again today and I found this snazzy, Spanish guitar.

“I’m gonna teach myself how to play it! It can’t be too hard, right? Looks like I got my work cut out for me.

“Signing off!”

…..…………………………………… Entry #16 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: This guitar playing’s coming along quite well! I’ve learned a few songs already and made up my own. Maybe if I ever get out of here one day, I’ll be a guitarist for real. I could even take my alias Diego Garcia back up.

“It’s attracted even more attention from the locals actually. Especially the kids. Sometimes they’ll come around to watch me play. Yeah, I’ve grown a bit of a soft spot for the little ragamuffins.

“Well, it gives me something to do. And something about the Latin melodies stirs the soul. Anyway, looks like I’ll be a local musician for a little while.

“Signing off.”

…..…………………………………… Entry #17 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Well, just put on another impromptu show for the kids. This time the spider monkey brothers came to see me play.

“You know, it kinda reminded me of… I don’t know. Looks like I’m back to thinking too much again.

“Signing off.”

…..…………………………………… Entry #18 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Hey Sam, uh… yeah, I know this is pretty sappy. Not usually my style but, uh, I thought this might help me to stop thinking. You know, get it all out.

“So, uh, well I guess I’ll get started… so, whatcha been up to lately? Are you and Eleanor still together, you know, doing well? And hey, look! I remembered her name this time!

“Me? Well, I haven’t been too bad. I’ve made quite the life for myself out here in the jungles of Mexico. Sure, I’ve been in hiding but you know, things aren’t so bad. It’s not exactly a tropical paradise but I’ve made due.

“I’ve been making friends with the locals, working on my strength training, teaching myself how to play guitar. And, something that might interest you, I’ve actually been helping out some of the locals. Sort of like going on missions! Just like Buck Rockgut!

“I think you might be proud of me…. I - I hope you’d be proud of me, Sam.”

Skipper clears his throat. “I, uh, I miss you.

“And I don’t know if this will ever get to you. I, uh… hope this gets to you somehow, I guess. With all the danger I’ve put myself in, this might even be all that’s left of me someday. That and the jungle’s a real dangerous place.

“So, admittedly this is somewhat for me. But it would be good, I guess, for you to have something left of me, if you want it. I guess, it’s good to have if anything were to happen… I just wanted to get the chance to talk to you again.

“Uh… I really don’t know what else to say here.” Skipper chuckles nervously and clears his throat. “I guess, I’ll talk to you later.

“Signing off.”

…..…………………………………… Entry #19 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Hey Sam! Things have been pretty copacetic here lately. The fishing’s been quite nice lately. I’ve got to say, it is nice to not have to worry about snow down here. That’s funny coming from a penguin, right? But really what kinda penguin am I at this point?”

Skipper laughs. “Anyway, I hope things are going well with you.

“Talk to you soon.”

…..…………………………………… Entry #20 …………………………………………..

“Skipper’s log: Merry Christmas, Sam.

“Or, I guess you could say ‘Feliz Navidad’ as the locals wished me. It’s uh, funny, I didn’t even realize it was that time of year again.

“It’s, uh, my first Christmas alone. Kinda an odd feeling.

“I know it’s a little schmaltzy but I’m feeling a bit lonely this time around.”

Skipper sighs. “I messed up. I really messed up, Sam, and I know that. I don’t blame you for throwing me out. It wasn’t right for me to ask you to put your family in danger for me.”

Skipper pauses to think. “You know, Sam, one day I’m going to get out of here. And when it’s safe enough to show my face, when I’m sure I won’t be putting you or Eleanor or anyone else in danger, I’m going to make things right. I promise.

“See you soon, I hope.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
A little less than a month from his last entry, Skipper’s found a new motivation. He’s hoping to improve in his training and somehow find a strategy for clearing his name. It might take years, but he’s no longer planning to stay here. For the past year, and then some, he had left himself for dead. He abandoned himself. Actually, it had felt more like eight years. But not anymore, he’s going to redeem himself.

One night in particular, Skipper sits around the fire. Having just finished a big meal, he is rather sleepy. It seems he might call it a night rather early. Well, that just means he’ll be up and ready for training the next day. He begins reclining and allows himself to begin to doze off.

Just then, Skipper senses a presence. Someone is there with him, watching him. He can’t exactly pinpoint who or where it is coming from, but he feels it in his gut.

“Show yourself and state your business!” Skipper calls out and readies himself in battle position. Had the Danes caught up to him? Just when he got used to his new life in the jungle.

“Oh dear, pardon me.” The voice didn’t sound threatening at all. It was rather silly in nature. And was that a British accent?

A tall, Adelie penguin comes stepping out of the darkness. The feathers atop of his head are starting to gray and his beak is wide. He’s an odd stranger that’s for sure, but Skipper doesn’t let his guard down.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” The penguin apologizes.

Interrupting what? His sleep? He’s all alone out here, there’s really nothing he could be interrupting. Skipper assumes it’s obligated courtesy.

The strange penguin calls out. “Are you Skippah?” He doesn’t get too close to Skipper, perhaps to show that he is no threat.

“That depends, who’s asking.” Skipper doesn’t lower his tone nor posture.

“My name’s Nigel.” He steps closer, showing himself better in the firelight. “I’m Eleanor’s brother, Sam’s brother-in-law.”

Skipper lowers his defenses. Sam’s brother-in-law? He hadn’t heard from Sam since… since he had told him to leave that time. What does this Nigel character want? Maybe, Sam changed his mind. Could they be inviting him over for the holidays? The thought thrilled Skipper. This could be his chance to make amends. As much as Skipper hated apologies, he might even give one to Sam as a belated Christmas present.

“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.” Nigel clears his throat.

What’s that supposed to mean? Is this some sort of trap? Was this Nigel working with the Danes?

Nigel pauses, unsure of what to say next. Skipper listens very intensely. If he didn’t know better, he might’ve seen a tear forming in Nigel’s eye. It reflected the light of the fire.

“There’s been an accident.” Nigel continues.

The air is sucked out of Skipper’s lungs. That wasn’t what he thought Nigel was going to say at all.

“What do you mean ‘accident’?” Skipper is firm and desperately needs Nigel to get to the point.

Nigel clears his throat once more, now certainly choking back tears. “A few nights ago, Eleanor and Sam went out for one of their walks in the park, but… they never came back.”

Skipper can feel his body start to tremble. However, despite his visceral response, he can’t seem to bring himself to believe that Sam - his brother - was involved in some sort of accident. Sam was invincible. Growing up, he always had the answers. He was the one to keep Skipper out of trouble. What does he mean never came back? What? Did they just leave? Maybe they went searching for him and they’d be here any day now.

Skipper interrogates further. “Where’d they go? They couldn’t have just disappeared.” He almost feels rage for some inexplicable reason.

“I went out to search for them, and well…” Nigel looks down to the ground. This had to be difficult for him to recall. “I found paw prints, blood, and a trail of feathers.”

Skipper can feel himself shaking even more now, but he has to keep himself together. His head is starting to feel dizzy and light. He’s now bracing himself for the worst.

“By the time I found them, it looked as though a family of foxes had - ...” Nigel pauses. It was a horrible sight - one he wishes he could unseen.

Skipper feels simultaneously as if he is about to get ill, go into a blind rage, and begin wailing in agony. Instead, Skipper stares off into the fire. All he can manage is “what happened?”

“By the looks of it, the foxes were in search of food, probably stockpiling for the winter.” Nigel avoids eye contact as well. The two of them stare in different directions. “I have no doubt they took them by surprise.”

Skipper winces. Painful and horrid images go racing into his mind, but he can’t stop them. He grips tightly onto his own flippers. Sam. Did he call out for him in the end? What was he thinking about in his last few moments? What were his last few minutes like? Was he in pain? Skipper can’t bear the thought. Or was it quick? Did he even have time to say goodbye? Skipper has to force himself to stop.

How could Sam be gone? This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

“Did you help them?” Skipper’s voice is shaking.

“By the time I got there… there was nothing I could do.” Nigel painfully reports. It was an understatement truly.

It must have been bad, Skipper assumes, without wanting confirmation.

“But, if there’s one thing I know about Sam, I can say with certainty that he did everything he could to protect my sister.” Nigel fills in the silence, sharing in the misery.

“Like that’s any consolation.” Skipper mutters sarcastically, low enough so that Nigel can’t hear him. If that were the case, it likely wasn’t quick. Of course Sam did everything he could to protect her. That was just the type of penguin he was. Not was, is. No. He’s a fighter. And he always protects the ones he loves. Skipper stares blankly at the ground, concealing all of this within him.

“The only thing to be grateful for,” Nigel begins.

Grateful? How could he even use that word at a time like this? Skipper’s face sours.

“...was that they didn’t have their son with them that night.”

Their what? Did he hear that right?

“T-their son?” Skipper stammers, looking back up at Nigel for the first time in minutes. His eyes are clearly brimming with tears.

“Yes,” Nigel confirms. He’s a bit surprised that Skipper hadn’t known.

“Sam had a kid?” Skipper practically repeats himself, but it is difficult for him to process all of this so suddenly. “I’m - I’m an uncle?”

“He’s a few months old now. That’s actually part of the reason I came here tonight.” Nigel gets closer. “I was hoping you would accompany me on the next ship to London. The lad’s gran and I would like to discuss some things with you. Would you like to meet your nephew?”

Of course, he did. This was all happening so fast. First, Sam - the penguin who had raised him and taken care of him all his life - was gone. He hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye. And now, Skipper had a nephew that he didn’t even know about? If he could even consider himself an uncle at this point, after his last interaction with Sam, it is quite possible that his brother wanted nothing to do with him.

“Yes,” Skipper stands and nods dutifully.

“All right then,” Nigel is pleased with Skipper’s answer. “Let’s get going then.”

And with that, Nigel goes waddling off into the jungle. He goes seemingly blindly. Skipper is taken aback, still stuck reeling in all of this new information. He rushes to put out the fire, collect his things, and catch up with Nigel. Somehow that old penguin was quick on his feet.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

         By the time they get to London, it is snowing rather heavily. It is a wet and miserable night, but no more miserable than Skipper is feeling. The entire trip over, he had kept to himself. While Nigel had tried to engage him in conversation from time to time, Skipper was completely lost in his own thoughts. How could he not be? He is still reeling in the new information he has been ambushed by.

         Even as they reach the habitat, Skipper is completely silent. He is a passive observer of everything happening around him. For the very first time since his childhood, he feels completely helpless. What happened to Sam is a startling, cruel reminder of his place in the world as a penguin. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to them anymore now that they were out of Antarctica. Sam had chosen a different path for himself, a better life. How could he still end up with the same fate as if they had never left? 

         Hunted down and eaten. As if he were just any other penguin. Like he didn’t even matter. Skipper can’t bear the thought, though it keeps crawling back up. These thoughts and the tears they threaten are stifled down. Sam could have done so much more with his life. 

         “Please come in,” Nigel extends his flipper towards the entrance.

         Skipper looks around as he finds himself standing in the exact same spot he stood a year or so ago. That was the last time he saw his brother… the last time he would ever see him. The doorway feels that much colder now. Guilt surges over him. There would be no reconciling for that night. Now that is never going to happen. 

         As he steps inside, he takes a deep breath. It’s as if the air is thinner and elusive to breathe in. The humble, little home is set up almost like a cave. If the circumstances were different, it might even feel quite cozy. Here Skipper is crossing the threshold of the door that was “always open” to him until it wasn’t. And it is rather clear in hindsight that he was the one to shut that door himself. The space feels hollow now, despite the remnants of warmth, Skipper can immediately feel the sense of loss within this space. 

         Just as he is following Nigel deeper in, his attention is caught by a picture frame on the wall. There, right in front of him, is his brother. In the photo, Sam smiles happily with his wing wrapped around Eleanor. The couple looks delighted but in a serene way. So, this is what Sam wanted all along. Seeing Sam in that photo, made it all so clear to Skipper. Though he never understood exactly what Sam felt for Eleanor, Skipper could see that his brother was truly, deeply happy with the life he created with her. 

         It had been ages since he had seen Sam. What if one day he forgot his face? No, he couldn’t. What kind of brother would he be? Skipper winces at the thought. He is so entranced by this photograph that he doesn’t notice that Nigel has gone off deeper into the habitat. It’s only when Nigel returns with a cardboard box that Skipper returns to reality.

         “They really did love each other.” Nigel sighs. He tilts his head and stares up at the frame. The two penguins are now standing side by side. 

         Instantly feeling embarrassed by his display of emotion, Skipper clears his throat and turns to face Nigel.

         “Righty-o,” Nigel nods, seeming to understand Skipper’s resistance to any emotional connection. “These are some of Sam’s things. I was going to see if you wanted to take any with you. You know, so you could have something to… remember him by.” 

         “Yeah, uh…,” Skipper tries to get some words out, anything. But that is all he can muster, as he takes the box from Nigel.

         “Why don’t I give you some time to look through them?” Nigel pats Skipper on the back before waddling off deeper into the habitat. 

         Skipper’s flippers rummage gently through Sam’s things. Many of them he recognizes, some of them he doesn’t. Skipper even finds himself chuckling when he pulls out the old kaleidoscope Sam had brought with him from Antarctica. He even kept some of the brochures from places they had traveled together. The very last thing Skipper feels is something cold and metallic. At the very bottom of the heap, he traces his flippers along a curved edge, then a short, cylindrical one. Eventually, he brings the mystery object to the surface to reveal a metal coffee mug. This makes Skipper smile even more, remembering when he and Sam both drank coffee for the first time. Tears start welling up in his eyes, but he laughs instead, thinking about what a memory that day was. 

         “Oh, I see you’ve found Sam’s coffee mug.” Nigel leans in over Skipper’s shoulder.

         Skipper jumps. How doea this daffy penguin keep getting the drop on him?

         “Terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Nigel chuckles slightly. As much as Skipper hates to admit it, the eccentric bird is rather comforting with his British etiquette.

         “I remember when we both drank coffee for the first time.” Skipper finally says a sentence composed of more than three words. He hadn’t done so, since leaving Mexico.

         “He was quite the coffee drinker.” Nigel nods.

         “He was?” Skipper turns to Nigel.

         “Oh, yes,” Nigel laughs, “while we’d all be drinking tea, Sam would have his morning cup of coffee. It was usually several cups actually.” 

         Skipper smiles and instinctively brings this possession of Sam’s in closer. Nigel takes notice of this.

         “Would you like to keep it?” Nigel offers.

         “Hmm?” Skipper suddenly realizes that he is nearly hugging the mug. He instantly loosens his grip. “No, no, I couldn’t.”

         “Please,” Nigel smiles at Skipper. “I think he would want you to have it.”

         Skipper nods. Thus, his coffee-drinking habitat begins. The very next day, Skipper begins conditioning himself into a caffeinated routine. But that’s a story for another time. 

         A feeble, feminine voice calls out from the main room of the habitat. “Nigel, are you back so soon?”

         “Yes, mum,” Nigel calls back over his shoulder. Then, he turns to face Skipper. “Are you ready to meet your nephew?”

         Again, the words are taken from him. Just like that. He nods, rather unsure honestly. There is no going back. This is his time to decide what sort of penguin he wants to be. He could turn and run. That is an option. He had already seen where Sam lived and gotten something to remember him by. If that is all he wants, he could technically leave. The door is right there. 

         That’s when Sam’s words from all those years ago hit him. “We look out for each other. It’s the penguin credo: never swim alone.”

         Skipper follows Nigel out into the main room. A much older, female penguin stands with a little, gray bundle in her flippers. Her feathers are mostly dark gray, but there is a clear resemblance between her and Eleanor. If she had reached such an age, Eleanor might have even been a spitting image of her. Much like Nigel, she has a warm and gentle presence. What is it with these penguins? They are no one like Skipper had ever met before. Of course, that might be due to their life in captivity. It is a rather comfy living situation. They haven’t been hardened by Mama Nature’s brutality.

         “Skipper, I would like to introduce you to Private.” Nigel says. 

         At the sound of his name, the little gray bundle of feathers in the old penguin’s flippers clumsily tumbles over excitedly. Now he is fully awake and facing his Uncle Nigel and the stranger. 

         That’s when everything changes. 

         Upon seeing the stranger, the baby penguin is curious. He wriggles himself up into a seated position… or his best attempt at one. His awkward, fumbling movements emit laughter from everyone else in the room. It’s as if the space has become much brighter. It no longer feels void but full of giddiness and joy. 

When his big, blue eyes lock with Skipper’s, the older of the two can’t seem to look away. Instantly, a big smile comes across Private’s beak. He has no clue who this much larger penguin is, but he is excited to meet this new friend. 

In return, Skipper smiles breathlessly. The tears start to come, as he lets out another laugh. Without competition, this little fella is the cutest thing he has ever seen. He’s got his mother’s blue eyes, no doubt about it. But other than that, he’s practically a miniature copy of Sam.

Then, it hits him. 

“Private?” Skipper looks over to Nigel. Had he heard that right?

Gran shakes her head. “Sam came up with the name. Said he named the lad after his brother.” She shrugs.

It seems they have no idea what the significance is. But he does. He remembers that conversation with Sam, all those years ago. They sat out on the shoreline of their home, talking about their future out in the world. Sam had laughed at him for saying he would name his hypothetical son Private. And in this moment of reminiscing, Skipper feels so much love, it’s almost as if Sam is in the room with them. Sam named his son after him. Of all the penguins… why him? Even after everything… Did that mean Sam still cared about him, even after all that he had done? Sam still thought of him as his brother? 

Now, the tears are becoming even more difficult to fend off. Skipper sniffles and pulls himself together. At this moment, all of the doubts leave his mind. They are practically distant memories. Though they'll return to him later, for now all he wants to do is hold the little guy. 

“Can I, uh - ?” He takes a step forward, with his flippers extended. 

“Oh,” the kid’s gran seems surprised. She didn’t expect her estranged in-law to take so quickly to Private. “Of course.”

Skipper lowers himself to one knee and extends his flippers. He doesn’t want to appear scary to the kid. Trying desperately to remember how he interacted with the families in the jungle, he does his best to invite him in. Still, he is unsure of himself. It sounds more like a question, when he awkwardly greets. “Uh, hi, Private.” 

By this time, Gran has lowered the round, little hatchling to the floor. Quickly, he goes from standing on his own feet, to sitting on hers. He looks at Skipper with a slight smile. Perhaps he is still unsure. Skipper’s heart sinks. Then, Private looks up at his Gran for brief reassurance. He tilts his head, as if to ask permission. 

She chuckles and rubs his head. “It’s all right, love. Go ahead.”

And with that, the hatchling’s expression changes in a flash. He is back to smiling excitedly. As fast as his stubby legs can take him, he begins waddling and teetering towards Skipper. This takes Skipper by surprise. He watches as the hatchling nearly trips over his own feet several times in his dash. Skipper laughs to himself. Looks like he really does have a lot of his father in him after all. Who knew all that clumsiness could be inherited?

         As soon as Private reaches him, it is clear that the hatchling does not know much about personal space. He rushes right up against Skipper’s belly. In fact, Skipper doesn’t even have time to scoot back. 

         The little penguin bounces on his tippy-toes. His tiny, floppy flippers are extended past his beak and up towards Skipper. In his squeaky little voice, he demands. “Up, up, up!” 

         Skipper chuckles at the sight. This chick is a little commander in the making, huh? Surely enough, Skipper follows the order. With nearly shaking flippers, he wraps them around Private. Ensuring a good grip on either side of Private’s hips, he lifts him up. Still, Skipper is terrified of the possibility of dropping the little one. Be that as it may, he is even more eager to take Private into his flippers. He never knew that he could love something so much, so instantly. 

         Now, standing with Private, Skipper gets a better look at his new nephew. For better support, and less of a chance of dropping him, Skipper brings him in closer. His feathers are so soft and fuzzy. He looks even more vulnerable up close. It’s as if he’s made of glass. He appears so fragile. In Skipper’s flippers, he is completely dependent on … him. It’s a jarring thought. When comparing Private to the size of his flippers, he appears even smaller than before. All Skipper can think about is his instinctive need to protect the little guy. 

“He’s uh, real tiny.” Skipper observes, looking up at Nigel and Gran.

“Most chicks his age are.” Gran smiles, gazing down at her grandson lovingly. “But, he’s rather sturdy too.”

“Yes, plump as a pheasant that one is!” Nigel chimes in, swinging his flipper. “Never turns down a good second helping.” 

Skipper smiles. It appears so. This hatchling is quite solid. Not a bad thing especially considering the harsh winters hatchlings are prone to facing. That’s when he notices the big eyes staring up at him. 

 “Hi there, Young Private.” Skipper chuckles nervously. He isn’t quite sure what to say. Why is he staring up at him like that? It’s a friendly, smiling gaze but still.

Instantly, Private springs into action. His smile curls up more to emit an elated giggle. His stubby, little legs kick excitedly. Even through all of this movement, his gaze never leaves Skipper. “Daddy!”

“No!” Skipper jolts back in surprise. His reaction startles Private, as the little one’s eyes widen. He tenses up in Skipper’s grip. Immediately, Skipper feels ashamed for his outburst of a response. He sighs and forces a smile. “No, I’m Skipper. You can call me Skipper.”

“Daddy.” Private tilts his head, correcting Skipper.

“Uh…?” Skipper raises his brow and turns to Nigel and Gran for assistance.

“He’s been learning his words lately.” Gran explains. When a tear comes to her eye, she sniffles and wipes it away. “Mummy was his first word… but daddy was a close second.”

Nigel goes over to comfort her. He wraps a flipper around her shoulder in a heavy-hearted hug. 

“Did they uh, get to hear – …?” Skipper begins to ask the question but stops.

“Yes,” Gran nods, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, “but not as much as they would have hoped for. He is a little behind, as it is, but clearly they didn’t expect to leave him like this.”

“I don’t know how anyone could.” Nigel shakes his head, looking at Private. 

This thought particularly stings Skipper. He had been just a few months older than Private when his father left him. It didn’t make sense. It isn’t fair. Why did Sam and Eleanor have to leave him? They wanted Private, they loved him so much. Why were they the ones who would never come back? They had no choice. 

What perhaps is worse, is the memory that pops up in Skipper’s mind. He remembers arguing with Sam. When Sam tried to tell him about his happiness with Eleanor, Skipper mocked him. He had been so jealous of Eleanor. He believed she had taken his brother away from him. But it was he who turned Sam away in the end. Sam and Eleanor should be the ones here right now, holding Private. It’s as if Skipper can imagine them doing so, but now that will never again happen. His own words come back to haunt him, as they taste bitter in his beak. “And what if she wants kids? You’ll be taking care of some brat you never wanted!” Skipper winces at the memory. 

As tears return to his eyes, Skipper turns his head. To spare what is left of his tethered, weary pride, he hides his face. Still, Private’s gaze catches his eye. He returns to look back down at the blissfully unaware hatchling. “Me neither. He’s a good kid.” Skipper sighs through a crackling throat. 

He gently runs a flipper over Private’s head. The little penguin leans into Skipper’s flipper.

“Those horrid badgers.” Gran shakes her head and bitterly looks to the floor.

“Again, mum,” Nigel groans, with flippers sliding down his face. Clearly, he is trying to keep his patience. “I don’t think it was badgers that - …”

Private once again looks up at Skipper. As if wanting to say something, he tilts his head.

“Hi,” Skipper laughs, now tears are streaming down his cheeks. “Hi, Private.”

Without further thought, Private smiles serenely and plops his head to the side. It lands softly against Skipper’s chest. He snuggles and adjusts himself until he finds optimal comfort. Then, he lifts his flippers to wrap them behind Skipper’s neck. His little flippers can’t quite reach, so Skipper hoists him up a bit more. Once Private is nice and comfy, his breathing slows and he listens to Skipper’s heartbeat. His eye lids are already starting to grow heavy. 

“Now, look at that.” Nigel smiles, speaking quietly as to not disturb Private. “A Private and his… Skipper. He’s going to be just fine, Mum.”

Skipper had almost forgotten they were standing there. He turns back to face them. “So, did Sam – did they… ever discuss who would be taking care of the little tyke, you know, if…?” 

         Nigel and Gran grow silent. They exchange glances. An awkward silence follows. 

Gran is the first to speak. “Unfortunately, Sam and Eleanor never had the chance to have that conversation… but Nigel and I thought you would be a good fit, as his uncle.” 

Skipper is horrified at the thought. “Me? Oh, no, no, no. I, uh, I’m not the father-ing or uncle-ing type.” 

With all the mistakes he’s made, he couldn’t possibly raise a child. What would become of Private? Nothing good if that were the case. How would he provide for him? Would they both live out in hiding in the jungle? No, that wasn’t plausible. A young chick out there would surely be an easy snack for predators. And what if they roamed around, like he had with Manfredi and Johnson? He couldn’t turn the kid into a criminal. Besides, what would become of Private if he got captured by the Danes? He can’t bear the thought of the child getting hurt. And yet, he couldn’t abandon the helpless hatchling either. That is something he certainly could not live with.  

“I mean, the boy would probably do better with his real family. Here he’s got you both to look after him – I wouldn’t make a good dad.” Skipper stammers.

Nigel clears his throat. This isn’t going quite as they had pictured. “We did discuss that thought as well. However, the only problem with us raising him is that… I tend to travel a lot for… my flower collecting habit.”

Gran sighs, she didn’t want to think about her morality. It is difficult enough to have lost her daughter recently. “And well, I’m not sure how much longer I'll be around.” 

“Hmm…” Skipper sighs, looking down at Private. It appears the little guy had lulled himself into a deep slumber at this point. He looks so peaceful and all the more in need of protection. But could he really provide that? He had already failed Sam. He couldn’t stand losing Private too. “I just… I don’t know if I’d be a good role model for the kid. I don’t want to let him down…”

“We understand.” Nigel nods, hiding his disappointment. 

Skipper goes to hand back Private to Nigel, but something stops him. He suddenly takes notice of how tightly Private is clung to him. Surely, he doesn’t want to let go. Likewise, he doesn’t want to let Private go either. But could he really justify taking care of Private? It wouldn’t be responsible. 

“If you ever want to stop by and visit, the door’s always open.” Gran smiles wistfully. She really is unsure that Skipper will take heed of this. It appears that he never did, while Sam and Eleanor were around. Still, she feels that it is only right to extend the offer. 

“Tell you what,” Skipper straightens up. An idea rushes to his head. It’s a plan, a new mission! But would it work? It had to. He would make it work. “I’m currently in no position to take care of a child, but give me a couple years. Once he’s older, I’ll take him in – teach him how to be a real penguin, to be a good one.”

“Oh, thank you!” Gran bursts with joy, nearly hugging Skipper. What a relief!

“Sounds like quite the plan.” Nigel shakes Skipper’s flipper. Then proceeds to extend both flippers. He is ready to take Private back for the time being. 

That’s when Skipper’s attention drifts back down to Private. The little penguin snuggles in closer. Perhaps, it was a chill or maybe he just didn’t want Skipper to leave just yet. 

“On second thought,” Nigel notices this as well. “Would you like us to give you some time to say goodbye?”

“Yeah, if you - if you don’t mind.” Skipper smiles, still reeling in the fact that he and Private have grown so attached so suddenly. He feels so loved, wanted, needed. It’s the first time he’s felt anything remotely like this for a while now. 

“Certainly not.” Nigel’s confidence in Skipper boosts, as he smiles at him. 

         When Nigel and Gran leave the room, Skipper feels as though he can relax a bit more. He trusts them, but now he doesn't feel the need to impress anyone. That is… other than the sleeping hatchling in his flippers. Now he can focus on just him. Nothing else seems to matter. Not Denmark, not his schemes, not even his admiration for Buck Rockgut can match this new feeling in his heart. 

“Uh, Private, you asleep kid? Private?” Skipper nudges the little penguin in his flippers. However, it is to no avail. The little one is fast asleep. His breathing radiates into the evening air in the sound of a soft, steady hum.  

“Okay, good.” Skipper clears his throat. It is for the better that Private is asleep. There is so much he wants to tell his nephew. Where would he begin? Yet there are many things he’d rather his nephew never knew. He already wants to shield Private from the dangers of this world. Something inside him drives him to do so, no matter the cost. 

“I just uh, I just want to tell you that … I’m going to do right by you, Private. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make sure you have one heck of a good life…” Skipper squeezes the little hatchling slightly. 

He pauses and clears his throat. He doesn’t want to get all sappy, but how can he not? It seems like an impossible feat. “And I just want you to know that your parents loved you so much. Much more than you’ll ever know really.”

Skipper sniffles, resisting tears. “Though, I’m sure your gran and uncle will tell you all about your Ma… Your papa was a good guy, Private. I need you to know that, okay?” He whispers with some urgency. Here he is holding Sam’s sole legacy in his flippers. The only thing that could make losing Sam worse is the thought of him being forgotten. This little penguin is all that’s left of his brother. 

“He meant the world to me. In fact, he was the best brother I could ever wish for, that anyone could ever wish for, really. He did his best to keep me out of trouble… And you’re so much like him already.” Skipper finds himself crying but laughs at himself. The tears - he finds them ridiculous. 

“But I promise you, you’re not going to make the same mistakes I did. I won’t let that happen.” Skipper nods and swallows hard. This is something he vows. 

“You’re not going to end up like me. I promise. You’re going to be happy and healthy and… free.” Skipper’s tone lightens. “But if all else fails, and for some reason, you do make a mistake or two… hopefully nothing that deems you public enemy number one of Cambodia or something, …”

Skipper pauses to fight the sudden tears. His voice is firm but trembles. “I want you to know… that there is nothing that will make me stop loving you. And I will never, ever turn you away. 

“I’m going to be here for you, no matter what. I’m going to get myself together and by the time you’re under my guidance, I’m going to be one heck of a role model for you.”  

Skipper doesn’t like all the somberness. Surely, he needs to grieve and process all of this new information. However, he doesn’t like displaying his emotions for others. Not even the hatchling, especially not him. He doesn’t want Private to think he’s weak. He wraps it up with a question that is rhetorical given the context. “Sound like a deal?” 

Private murmurs and stirs. By the way his face contorts, it is very likely that he’s having a nightmare. 

Skipper brings him in closer and begins to sway. Frankly, he doesn’t know what he is doing. Instincts take over and he goes into action. Instead of rushing into a river this time, he gently comforts the tiny penguin. “Sh, it’s okay. You’re safe, Private. I’m here.” 

Private buries his face deeper into Skipper’s chest. His fuzzy, little flippers hold onto Skipper tighter. Skipper smiles warmly and kisses the little one on the top of the head. He’s not going back on his word now. 

“All right then,” Nigel reenters the room. Again, his odd voice causes Skipper to jump. Though his tone is gentle and the volume is nearly a whisper, Nigel still manages to surprise Skipper. “Have you had enough time?”

         Skipper gets over his startle and nods. “Yeah,” very carefully, he removes Private’s grip and begins handing him over. 

The sudden movement awakens a groggy hatchling. He opens his eyelids halfway amidst the transfer back to his Uncle Nigel. When Nigel receives Private, he rests him against his chest as well. With a couple pats on the back, Private slouches into a comfortable position. 

“There’s just one thing.” Skipper has a concern, still gnawing at him. 

         Nigel and Gran exchange puzzled looks. Now what seems to be the problem? Surely, he isn’t going back on his promise now. It is entirely possible. 

“I don’t want him to know who I am.” Skipper confesses. He’s forfeiting the title of uncle. But if it means sparing Private from the harsh truths of his past, it’s worth it. If Private never learns about all of the hijinks he got up to, then he won’t get any ideas for himself. Plus, he won’t resent him for what happened to his parents. Skipper clarifies. “He can’t know – who I am. Maybe just that his dad and I were good friends… that we knew each other.”

Gran is in a bit of a befuddled tizzy. “Oh, okay?” It sounds fair enough. After all, taking in a child all of a sudden did seem like a herculean task. It is only fair that he has his own terms. While those requests do seem rather befuddling, she’s sure he has his reasons. 

Without a further word, Skipper turns to leave. Well, he’s established a plan, now he’s ready to get out there. Between the desire to catalyze his redemption and suppress his emotions, Skipper wants to keep things brief. He’s no good at any of the sappy stuff that may follow. Besides, there’s no point in commiserating now. Sam isn’t coming back. No matter how much uncomfortableness Skipper could inflict upon himself by sticking around, it would do no good. He knows what he must do now. 

In Nigel’s flippers, Private extends his little flipper. “Bye-bye.” He reaches out for Skipper and grabs at the air. 

This stops Skipper in his tracks. He takes a few steps back towards the hatchling. Tilting his head, he smiles warmly. “Bye, Young Private.” He chuckles and playfully gives out an order. “Now, you be good for your uncle and grandma there.”

         Skipper smiles up at Nigel and Gran, before turning around. This is the last time he’ll see all three of them for a while. Clearly, Private is the one he’ll miss, but that’s even more motivation to get his act together. Either way, he wants to get out of here, before his emotions spill all over. Internally, he’s very much still a mess. Perhaps, even more so now. But he can’t let that show, especially now that they are entrusting him with Private. What would they think of him, if he broke down in tears? It would show that he didn’t have what it takes to raise him. 

“Do you have any idea where you’ll be in a few years?” Nigel asks.

Now, standing in the doorway, Skipper thinks for a moment. It goes against everything he has learned to give away his future whereabouts. But he can trust these penguins. Right? “Hard to say, right now I’m heading to somewhere in New York, hoping to settle down, integrate back into society. Get back on my own feet.”

         And with that, he leaves. Gran and Nigel are left watching him. Rather dumbfounded, they both express perplexed facial expressions. 

“Quite odd that one.” Gran notes. 

Once Skipper is out of sight, Nigel slicks back the feathers on his head. His entire persona changes to a far more suave, confident figure. All of the previous eccentricity seems to leave his body. Puffing out his chest, he holds Private in one flipper and rests the other on his hip. It appears Nigel too had been putting on airs. 

“I’ll keep an eye on his whereabouts until then.” Nigel assures Gran, in a much more serious voice. Who knows if this Skipper character can really be trusted? Nigel would have to use his own secret agent skills to investigate Skipper further. Though Sam seemed to have faith in his brother, Nigel can’t trust just anyone with his nephew. This Skipper appeared to have a record. It now has become Nigel’s mission to piece together this puzzle and track his next moves. Whether or not Skipper appeared to be a fit role guardian for his nephew, would surely be brought to light. However, he had to tread lightly. If Skipper ever finds out that he is being watched, it could compromise the entire mission. Likewise, if Skipper fails in this endeavor, they will have to come up with something else… Perhaps, Private could become Nigel’s apprentice. But he is far too young to start secret agent work any time soon. That is a worry for another day. For now, they can find relief in the fact that they have some resemblance of a plan. 

In Nigel’s flippers, Private squirms. It appears his gaze has not left the doorway. Maybe he is waiting for Skipper to come back. He had already grown quite fond of this stranger. It would be a shame for him to disappear through the same doorway that his parents did. 

“Sk-skuh-” Private tries to sound out the word. “Sk-ip-pah?” 

         Skipper makes his way out of the habitat. He can feel the warmth on his face. Tears are coming up fast. It’s getting harder to breathe. This isn’t good. He can’t let them see him; he can’t let anyone see. How selfish of him to be the one to start crying. The hatchling had just lost his parents. Nigel had lost his sister, and Gran had just lost her daughter. They had been there for Sam, up until the end, but where was he? Out in the middle of nowhere, only looking out for himself. The kid would never know his parents. 

         Finally, he makes his way to a city bench. It’s far enough away from the zoo. However, sound carries in the cold, brisk night. This is as far as he gets before dragging himself underneath the bench and breaking down. His sobs rake his body, as he curls up into himself. He can’t dare show his face to the world again. Sam was his brother. Sam had been there for him when he needed him the most. But when Sam was in danger, he wasn’t there. Even when Sam first opened the door to him, he rejected the invitation in his own resentment and selfishness. Then, after Denmark, it was too late. Sam had always been there, but he just pushed him away.

         What if Skipper had stayed with Sam and Eleanor? He never would have gone to Denmark. As a result, he wouldn’t have to look over his shoulder constantly. All of the panic and paranoia he’s experienced over the past few months would have been a distant nightmare. He would never have been double-crossed. Now, it seems like he deserved to be betrayed by Hans. He was no good, so it might as well have happened to him.

         What if Sam had never rescued him from those skuas? Maybe Sam should have let them eat him. If that were the case, he never would have been dragged out on this international snafu and all the trouble it’s caused. 

         If he thinks hard enough, he can almost envision the happy family all together in the habitat. Eleanor would be holding her baby with Sam standing nearby, playing peek-a-boo with the little one. Private would be so loved and cared for, so safe. In fact, the kid would have an entire, healthy family. They would be there for him as he grew. Maybe Skipper would come back in the picture… maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if he never existed. Perhaps, the family would still be together. But now, that kid would never understand why his parents weren’t coming back home. Would he even remember them?

         Skipper’s downward spiral continues, as it gets even harder to breathe. Sam’s dead and it’s all his fault. He could have been there to protect them. He should have been there to have Sam’s back. It’s all his fault. Private is an orphan, and it’s all his fault. At least when he himself was abandoned, his father was still alive. He was abandoned in the first place because his father didn’t want him. Private’s parents both wanted him. Sam cared about the kid so much. Even when hearing about Sam from Nigel, he could tell how much he loved his family. And Skipper’s dad wouldn’t even hold him. He always suspected that he was bad and unworthy of love. Now this proves it. And it’s too late. The damage has been done. 

         Then, the image of the little guy’s face pops back into Skipper’s memory. His adorable, smiling face was identical to a much younger Sam. He was practically a spitting image of his dad, with his mother’s blue eyes. And his name – Private. Sam had thought of him and named his son after… him. Of all penguins, why? He didn’t deserve it. But regardless of his guilt and shame, the kid looked up at him and smiled so big. He accepted him, naïve to all of his shortcomings. The kid was innocent and new to this world. He didn’t deserve to get mixed up in the mess that Skipper had made of his own life. Skipper couldn’t bring himself to do that to the hatchling. Then again, he couldn’t just desert him either. 

         But when he looked up at him, it was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was similar to how he felt with Sam, but even stronger. It brought him to tears. Everything in his body was telling him to protect the little one at all costs. He chalks it up to instincts. Private was so defenseless and needed someone to look after and protect him, to show him how to be a penguin… Just like Sam had done for him. When Private looked at him, Skipper felt purpose. 

         Skipper settles himself down and wipes the tears away. He had a hardy, secret cry but now it is time to rectify his mistakes. It seems like he had made so many. Surely, he hadn’t lived an immaculate life, ethics-wise. Whatever he did moving forward would never make up for the fact that Sam is now gone. The boy is without a mother and father. But Skipper is determined to do whatever he can to be there for Sam’s son and prevent him from making the same mistakes. It is the very least he can do for his brother. And to match the standard Nigel and Gran had set, he would have to be one heck of an upstanding penguin – a proper role model for Private.

         That’s it! Just as he did back in the jungle, he could use his military training and sense of adventure to help others. Yes! Just like Sam said, penguins look out for one another. Except, he would look out for other zoo animals, too. He wanted to be like Rockgut when he and Sam first started their adventure. Perhaps, he strayed from this over time. But he just had to get back to the original plan: help others, fight evildoers, and now, become a penguin that Private could admire.

         This is his new quest… no his mission! He vows to do so. And the very first step will be turning himself in at the Central Park Zoo. He’ll reunite with Manfredi and Johnson. Then, he can work with them to protect zoo residents from any wrongdoers. It’s not exactly saving penguinkind but it’s something. 

……………………………………………. Entry 21 …………………………………………...

         “Skipper’s log: Hey Sam …,

“He’s going to be okay. I promise. I just want you to know that. Your son is going to have a good life, Sam. I’m going to do better. I’m going be better.” Skipper whispers. He hugs the coffee mug towards him and sits out the snowstorm.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

Once Skipper reaches New York City, he’s incredibly tired from the journey. What a night. Over the course of several hours, he had just learned that his brother was dead and that he would be taking care of his son. Now, it’s up to him to make good on his promise. He’s determined to do so. No matter what it takes. His first course of action is reuniting with Manfredi and Johnson.

Standing on the island of the Central Park Zoo penguin habitat, Skipper looks around. This isn’t too bad of a place they’ve got here. There’s a nice clean pool at least. But where are his friends? Skipper scans his surroundings. The only thing on the concrete island is a singular fish bowl.

Carefully, he nudges it aside with his foot. Lo and behold, there’s a hole. That must lead to the habitat. He leans over and peeks into the hole. There doesn’t appear to be much visible. Although his first instinct is to investigate, he has to remember his civility now. What would a couth, responsible penguin do?

“Hello? Anyone home?” Skipper calls down.

Shortly after, a lanky penguin with a rounded head pops up. This stranger isn’t Manfredi or Johnson. He smiles at his guest. Instantly, Skipper goes into panic mode.

“Who are you and what have you done with Manfredi and Johnson?” He leaps into battle position.

“Pardon?” The stranger stammers, leaning back.

“You heard me, stranger!” Skipper grabs onto the chest feathers of the threat and lifts him out of the hole. Since Skipper is much shorter than this penguin, the lower half of the penguin’s body is lying on the island. Skipper spouts. “Who are you working for? The Danes? Hans?”

“I’m not working for anyone! I’m just a penguin.” The stranger shakes his head. He is terrified and completely unsure of what is happening.

“Wait…” Skipper remembers where he’s at and his vow to change his ways. Seems he might actually have to trust this stranger, at least a little, But he can still keep his guard up. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“No, I don’t have the slightest notion of what you’re insinuating.” Kowalski whimpers.

“Hmm,” Skipper rubs his chin. He still is quite suspicious of the stranger. Letting go of his grip, he allows the stranger to get to his feet.

“My name is Kowalski,” the tall bird extends his flipper.

“Skipper,” he reciprocates the gesture.

There’s when he hears Manfredi’s voice from down below. “Hey is that Skipper up there?”

Skipper instantly goes back into the offensive. He dives on Kowalski and drags him onto the habitat floor. They begin tussling. “Show me where my friends are, you Danish scum!”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Johnson shouts.

“Manfredi, Johnson, hey!” Skipper drops Kowalski. There his friends are standing right in front of him. He hadn’t seen them in a while. Behind them is a much larger, beefier penguin.

“Hey! Whaddaya doin?” The large penguin growls.

“Uh, sorry… What was your name, again?” Skipper feels embarrassed. He looks down at the penguin he has just pummeled.

“Kowalski,” Kowalski grunts, as he has just been beaten.

Manfredi wraps Skipper up in a big hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! Where have you been?”

Rico, after getting a glance of what is going on, silently retreats back into the habitat. He shakes his head before disappearing.

“You had us worried, ya knucklehead.” Johnson shakes his head and smiles. “But it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Skipper smiles wistfully.

“You look different. Where’ve you been?” Manfredi asks hysterically.

“Let’s get you inside first, okay?” Johnson ushers Skipper in. Partially it’s to make sure he feels welcome. But it’s also just in case he had gotten into any more trouble since they had seen him last. Anything could have transpired over the course of the year. Eyes could be everywhere.

“Well, I - I spent some time hiding out in the jungles of Mexico. It gave me a little bit of time to clear my head.” Skipper starts, not sure how much he wants to tell his friends.

“Some time? You were gone for more than a year!” Manfredi sighs.

“Really?” Skipper is startled. Surely, he thought it had been a good number of months, but a year? “Funny, some days it felt like eight years.”

“But you’re here now.” Johnson puts a flipper on Skipper’s shoulder.

“Exactly!” Skipper puffs out his chest. “And now that I’m here, what are your daily operations like?”

“Daily operations?” Kowalski repeats in confusion. This is quite the character. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you three know each other?”

“Right,” Skipper laughs. “This must be a little befuddling for you. I knew Manfredi and Johnson back in the day. The three of us got into gobs of trouble in our time, but those days are behind me!”

“The days?” Manfredi ponders.

“In our time?” Johnson scratches his head. What is he going on about? It was only a little over a year ago. He’s seriously questioning Skipper’s mental state.

“Now, I have a proposition for you boys!” Skipper places his flippers on his hips. He surely is excited about the idea of his mission. That isn’t a lie. But he has to feign his confidence in his leadership and martial strategy, if he’s really going to sell this. He has to think of this as another one of his aliases - one that he will take on for the rest of his life.

“You just got here.” Manfredi affirms Johnson’s concerns.

“Exactly! That way I can get down to business ASAP, hit the ground running.” Skipper explains but he’s still not making coherent sense.

“What type of proposition are you asking exactly? I must admit I’m rather perplexed by all of this.” Kowalski chuckles nervously. He’s really unsure of this new guy.

“Gentlemen,” Skipper puffs out his chest and prepares to start his oration. Beating down the doubt, he remembers just how charming and persuasive he can be. Not just that, but he does have some experience after all.

This even gets the attention of Rico, who has been sitting solitarily in the corner. The wild penguin turns to face him. By the looks of this rough penguin, Skipper clears his throat. Sure he could hold his own. He’s proven that already. But something about this penguin is different.

“When we were little hatchlings, we were told the stories of Buck Rockgut and his courageous missions to protect penguinkind.”

“You’re a Buck Rockgut fan too?” Kowalski smiles.

“But as penguins, the world tells us… Well, to be frank that we don’t amount to much other than being cute, cuddly hors’d'oeuvres for other animals.”

“Ew,” Rico mutters.

“What are you getting at, Skipper?” Johnson asks.

“What I’m saying is - we know what penguins are capable of. Surviving blizzards of the coldest temperatures on earth! Fending off gigantic seals and killer whales! Mama Nature constantly throws some of the harshest conditions at us as a species. But we survive, because we look out for one another.” Skipper explains, with the enthusiasm and drama of a Shakespearean actor.

“Okay, good pep talk, friend.” Manfredi looks to Johnson, who looks to Kowalski. Rico is even befuddled. They aren’t following.

“But what if we used these skills to help others - just like Buck Rockgut? I mean this is New York City! A city packed, crowded and festering with crime. There are evildoers we can stop, damsels we can save! We don’t have to follow the rules of Mama Nature anymore, boys. What say we make our own rules and become the heroes we always dreamed about?”

“So, we’re fighting crime now?” Kowalski asks, unsure of what Skipper is asking.

“That’s the idea, friend!” Skipper places a flipper on Kowalski’s back.

“But none of us know how to, you know, fight.” Manfredi says.

“Lucky for us, the newest member of this unit has studied military and leadership strategy under the great General Shinjin!” Skipper winks. When they don’t get it at first, he pauses and points to himself. “It’s, uh, yours truly.”

“So you’re going to teach us military strategy?” Kowalski asks.

“To be fair, Skipper is rather impressive in a heist situation.” Manfredi defends.

“Exactly! With my leadership, Manfredi’s skills in persuasion, Johnson’s experience, and your….” He stares at Kowalski and Rico. He doesn’t quite know them yet.

“Uh, well, back in Antarctica I used to spend a lot of time around the human science labs.” Kowalski stammers, volunteering information.

“Ah, a smart guy! I like it!” Skipper exclaims, slapping Kowalski on the back. This emits a startled noise from Kowalski. “You’ll be the brains of the outfit.”

“Whattaya say, boys?” Skipper asks.

“I’m game!” Manfredi shrugs.

“On one condition,” Kowalski hesitantly offers.

Skipper lifts his brow.

“Is there any possibility we could install a lab in our habitat?” Kowalski asks.

“Well,” Skipper laughs, it is a tall request. But if it makes the tall guy happy and on his side, it’ll be worth it. Plus, in the long-run, a lab might aid their super spy endeavors. They could have a man on the cutting edge of science. “I don’t see why not.”

“Yay!” Kowalski cheers in falsetto.

“What about you, big fella?” Skipper turns to Rico with eagerness.

“Meh,” Rico uncomfortably shrugs and waddles away.

“What’s the matter with him?” Skipper asks.

“He’s a bit odd.” Manfredi whispers. “We’ve never heard him say more than two words at a time.”

Kowalski laughs nervously. “Quite the strong and silent type.”

“Hmmm,” Skipper taps his chin.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

And so, the new penguin team gets to work straightaway. As promised, Kowalski gets his lab and in turn, Skipper gets his men. They all work together to follow a blueprint constructed by Kowalski. He can’t believe it. All of a sudden, his dream of becoming a scientist is coming true. Ever since he was a hatchling, he watched the humans in their labs and wished that he could create his own inventions. It seemed like a far off dream. Never in his wildest imagination could a penguin accomplish such a feat. Maybe not alone. But that’s what the penguin credo’s for after all. Now all of a sudden this stranger came, making big promises. Though Skipper is a bit of an odd bird, literally, he surely is making good of his word. Manfredi and Johnson seem to trust him. Maybe this is the start of a brand new friendship? Kowalski’s first real friendship.

Skipper, Manfredi, and Johnson already know spots where they can snag the tools necessary for the renovations. While in the past Manfredi and Johnson had raided stores and factories before, Skipper insists they use the spare change they find lying around to compensate the businesses for their tools. That was always something Sam did. He never liked the idea of Skipper stealing. Although inconvenient and rather tedious, it is Skipper’s way of turning over a new leaf.

Yes, all of the Penguins were hard at work. That is, all except Rico. The large, quiet penguin kept to himself most days. It’s not that he is some brute. A part of him actually does want to be a part of the team. But, friends, family - it has never been in the cards for him. Prior to being captured by humans and arriving at the zoo, Rico was quite the outcast. From his intimidating appearance and raspy voice, he just ended up scaring any penguins he tried to befriend. Words didn’t come easy to Rico. Literally, he mainly speaks in grunts. Other penguins would judge him, make up stories about him, and worst of all, fear him. He simply stopped trying. It is safer that way.

That all changed when the Penguins installed a TV. Granted it was one they found in a back alley. But Kowalski promised he would be able to fix it up. Taking the smart penguin’s word for it, Skipper obliged. Now, they are setting up a lab and a TV. It is something for morale.

One day, Skipper pauses to take a break. The HQ is now filled with the sound of a buzzing saw and revving drills. The team is busy at work, installing a door into the concrete wall. Skipper wipes the sweat off his brow and sits down in front of the TV. He personally had never used one before. He clicks through the remote. Rico, who is fixing a sandwich for himself at the table, takes stifled notice. Skipper flips through channels. Rico listens.

“SHIRTLESS NINJA ACTION THEATER!” The TV blares causing Skipper to jump.

“Ooh! Now this is more like it!” Skipper inches in closer towards the screen. All the action and violence on screen draws him in. He stares on with his beak agape in an upward, intrigued grin.

Rico is also hypnotized by the scene. But unlike Skipper, he tries to hide his interest. Now having fully made his sandwich, he creeps behind Skipper. Standing back far enough, he hopes that Skipper won’t notice him looking over his shoulder. Skipper laughs and guffaws at some of the sequences. Rico wants to as well, but covers his beak. He can’t let Skipper hear him. Surely, the new penguin would run away from him too. He creeps others out, and he certainly doesn’t want to disturb Skipper.

“SHIRTLESS NINJA ACTION THEATER!” The announcer says once more. “... Will be back after these short messages.”

“Aw man,” Skipper groans.

In a flash, the screen goes black. In the second it takes to transition from the program to commercial, Rico finds his reflection on the TV screen. It all happened too fast for him to respond. He is stunned, as Skipper tilts his head. Clearly, he has been spotted. Skipper hadn’t even realized he was standing behind him the whole time.

Embarrassed, Rico turns his head. He begins to whistle nonchalantly and admire his sandwich. Maybe if he pretends that he wasn’t watching, he won’t spook Skipper.

“Oh,” Skipper turns back to Rico. “I didn’t see you standing there. This show’s pretty crazy, huh? You wanna join me?” Skipper laughs, patting the floor space next to him.

Rico is confused. No one’s offered him to join them before. He looks behind him to see if there’s anyone standing there. Nope. Is he referring to him? “Me?” Rico does his best to grunt out the word. Ugh, why can’t he speak normally like everyone else? Now, Skipper won’t want him watching TV with him for sure.

“Yeah, who else would I be talking to?” Skipper laughs.

“Uh…” Rico isn’t sure. He’s slow to warm up to Skipper. As if sneaking up on a venomous snake, he waddles up cautiously. “Okay.”

The two sit in silence for a while. There’s really nothing happening on screen other than commercials. Rico instantly regrets his decision. This is awkward. He can only imagine that this other penguin is judging him. What will he tell the other penguins about him? Will they laugh at him, think he’s diseased or vicious?

“What’d you say your name was by the way?” Skipper finally asks, breaking the silence. After all, if these are going to be his zoo mates, he’s got to learn their names.

Rico turns to say something. Just as he is about to open his beak, he freezes. Sadly, he turns away. He is ashamed of his scratchy voice. If his voice doesn’t freak out the penguin, then surely his quirk of being able to swallow things would. It’s just a matter of time.

“Oh, that’s alright.” Skipper chuckles nervously. Feeling a bit insecure himself, he clears his throat. “My name’s Skipper.”

A few minutes later the program starts back up. Skipper “oohs” and “ahhs” at the entrancing show. When he glances over, Rico can’t help himself either. Not thinking that Skipper is looking at him, there is a wide grin on the penguin’s face. Now, he’s getting a sense of who Rico is.

“Ooh!” Skipper laughs, “You know, that right there is a flamethrower.”

“Flamethrower?” Rico mutters, absolutely transfixed on the explosions and mayhem.

“Yeah!” Skipper is giddy. “Back in my days as an agent, we had a ton of those around the organization.”

“Really?” Rico almost forgets his insecurities. His excitement takes over. He turns to Skipper.

“Oh yeah, I also happen to know where we could get a few.” Skipper winks.

Rico finds himself getting riled up with excitement. Then, he remembers who he is. He dials himself back down. If he gets too excited, he could appear threatening and scary. That’s when he shrinks and looks away again.

“You know…, I know what it’s like to feel out of place in the world.” Skipper sighs, looking glum himself. “Not to get all sappy or anything, but uh, there’s nothing wrong with being different.”

By the time Skipper looks back at Rico, the penguin has shoved the entire sandwich in his beak. He stares at Skipper. With eyes wide, it is evident that he is uncomfortable. It appears he’s never had a heart-to-heart with anyone before. He certainly wasn’t prepared for today to be that day. With cheeks full, he swallows the entire sandwich whole.

“Woah!” Skipper leaps to his feet. Just as Rico braces himself for ridicule or rejection, Skipper exclaims. “That was awesome!”

“Huh?” Rico tilts his head. He’s been described as a lot of things before but never awesome. “Whattadaya mean?”

“You swallowed that thing whole! It’s incredible!” Skipper walks around Rico, who is now standing. He is looking the penguin up and down, examining him. How much can this penguin swallow at once?

“Oh, well - ” Rico begins but he accidentally vomits up a foam finger. Likely from one of the guests.

“Woah ho ho!” Skipper slaps his flippers together. “That’s quite the skill, you’ve got there!”

Soon enough, Rico and Skipper are testing the limits to how much they can fit in Rico’s gullet. Excitedly, Skipper grabs an object and hands it to Rico. The penguin, who is really just rolling with it, then swallows it. Not much later, Rico starts having fun as well. He giggles every time, he successfully swallows or regurgitates and Skipper cheers. Skipper’s like a child on Christmas morning, playing with his new toy. Rico’s just happy to be appreciated and well-received.

The ruckus gets the attention of everyone else. Pretty soon, Manfredi, Johnson, and Kowalski peek out from what-will-be-the-doorway. Between the three of them, none of them had heard Rico laugh before. They watch on with amazement, as the two penguins bond.

Out of nowhere, Rico spews out a hammer. It goes flying. Luckily, Manfredi ducks the instant before it collides with the wall. If not, he would have ended up nailed right in the forehead.

“Oh hey! Check out what Rico can do!” Skipper just then notices that they have an audience. “Show ‘em, Rico.” Skipper encourages his new friend.

With that Rico begins regurgitating a whole stomach full of tools. It wouldn’t be physically for any penguin to hold that many objects in his gut. But Rico isn’t just any penguin. The spectacle is met with amazement. Once having emptied his stomach, Rico smiles. These penguins don’t fear him at all. At least that’s not what it looks like.

“Skipper, can we have a word?” Johnson asks.

“Uh, sure.” Skipper shrugs.

Johnson pulls Manfredi with him into the lab. Skipper follows, unsure of what the problem is. Are they unnerved by Rico’s talent? No, these two aren’t judgmental.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When it’s just the three of them, the conversation starts. Skipper can’t help but feel a little ganged up on. What is it that they wanted to talk about? As they stand opposite of him, he can tell this isn’t going to be an easy conversation. Johnson stands with his flippers across his chest. Manfredi, on the other hand, stands with a more timid pose.

“You want to tell us what all this is about?” Johnson looks at Skipper skeptically.

“What do you mean? I’ve already told you - I’m trying to put together this team!” Skipper is a bit offended that they don’t seem to believe him. Either that or they don’t get it.

“Listen, Skipper,” Manfredi takes a more diplomatic approach. “We’re your friends. You don’t have to use an alias around us. Just tell us what you’re trying to do here.”

“This isn’t an alias! It’s who I am now.” Skipper stands firm.

“Yeah right,” Johnson laughs. This isn’t the same Skipper they traveled around with. Something is going on that he’s not telling them. They’re not so easily duped.

“It is,” Skipper sighs. “Look, I’m trying to make a new start for myself. You saw how the outside world made me - what it turned me into.”

“So, to solve that you’re trying to make us into a team of secret agents?” Manfredi scratches his head.

“You know, you don’t have to be some sort of hero. We’re safe here. All you need to do is just… live.” Johnson suggests.

“But I do,” Skipper sighs. It looks like he’s finally going to have to tell them the truth. He’ll have to tell them about Sam and his promise to raise his son. “Sam’s … - Sam’s gone. He died.” This is the first time he’s said the words aloud.

The silence that follows chills all of them. It still didn’t seem real, even to Skipper. He doesn’t want it to be.

“Skipper, I’m real sorry.” Manfredi places a flipper on Skipper’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Skipper backs away. He turns and sniffles, shoving back a tear. He certainly can’t cry now.

“How did - ” Johnson’s not sure if he wants to ask the question. He stops himself, worrying that he is coming across as insensitive.

“Foxes. He and Eleanor were attacked.” Skipper wipes his eyes.

The other two nod. They aren’t sure what to say. Nothing they can say will make it better. Sam had been Skipper’s friend the longest. He even called him his brother.

“But uh, see I made a promise.” Skipper sighs.

“What promise?” Johnson grows stern.

“Sam had… - has a son. He - he’s just a little guy. I got to hold him in my flippers. He named him after me.” Skipper is choking up, while he’s trying to plead his case.

“What did you promise?” Manfredi takes a deep breath. What has Skipper gotten them into now?

“I told his grandma and uncle that I’d raise the boy when he gets older.” Skipper whispers.

Johnson groans and puts his flippers on his face. Manfredi responds marginally better. But still, this is a shock. All of a sudden, Skipper comes back into their lives. Now, they’re going to be looking after a kid, too? None of them are suited to be parents. Up til a year ago, they were wanted criminals… Well, they still are. The only thing different is that they're hiding out in a zoo.

“Skipper, raising a chick is a big responsibility.” Manfredi tries to calmly explain. Maybe Skipper will work something out and change his mind. The kid could always visit.

“I know, that’s why we’re going to be good role models for him. We’re going to show him that penguins can be strong and helpful! Teach him the penguin credo.” Skipper pleads with them. “Being just an ordinary penguin isn’t going to be good enough.”

“Why not?” Johnson groans.

“Because… when I looked at this kid, I’ve never felt… so much,” Skipper chuckles nervously to fend off the tears and his own sentimentality, “I don’t know, love, I guess. I want to give him the best life and role models I can. Plus, it’s the least I can do for Sam.”

“That’s really admirable, kid.” Manfredi smiles. He nudges Johnson who still has a flipper to his face. Clearly, Johnson is less excited about this endeavor. It’ll be a lot of work. In fact, it’s asking them to do something they’ve never done before.

“Fine,” Johnson sighs, throwing up his flippers.

“Thank you,” Skipper smiles.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The next day, Skipper had sent Manfredi and Johnson off a run. Kowalski had formulated quite the list of items he wanted to have in his lab. Given Manfredi and Johnson’s experience out in the world, they are best suited for the job. That leaves Skipper and Rico to help Kowalski out, as he organizes the goods they have already gathered. Unfortunately, Rico appears to be sleeping in.

“All right,” Skipper grunts. The two are carrying either end of a massive, concrete fixture. “Where did you want this lab table again?”

“A few centimeters to the left.” Kowalski groans.

“Huh?” Skipper stops.

“Oh right,” Kowalski chuckles. “Take a few steps back.”

“Like this?” Skipper moves.

“Perfect!” Kowalski squeals.

When all is said and done, all of the furniture in the lab is set. The lab table and chair match quite nicely. Granted the chair is a cinder block. But it fits in well with the aesthetic. Either way, it’s certainly good enough for Kowalski. His eyes glow while overlooking his workspace. Finally, he has the lab that he’s always dreamt of. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

“Ah! It’s beautiful!” Kowalski squeaks.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like it.” Skipper nods, before beginning to turn around.

“You know, I’ve always dreamt of having a lab of my own. I would stand outside and watch the humans run their experiments.” Kowalski reminisces.

“I guess you’re lucky you never became one.” Skipper laughs.

Kowalski ignores Skipper’s remark. “You know, the other penguins would always scoff at me. They said I would never become anything more than just a regular penguin. And for a while I believed them.” Kowalski gasps. “But now, in the blink of an eye, I can be whoever I want to be.”

“Yeah,” Skipper shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“Truth is, I’ve really never had a group of friends before.” Kowalski chortles nervously. “I don’t really know a whole lot about what it means to be part of a team.”

Skipper pauses. Is Kowalski calling him a friend? Is that what they are now? Should he stop this? What if something bad happens to Kowalski then? He can’t let others get close, because bad things happen. But… this isn’t a bad thing. Kowalski’s actually happy. He’s helping him achieve his dream. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

“Thank you, Skipper!” Kowalski goes in to give Skipper a hug.

Still a little unsure, Skipper extends his flipper out. Instead, he offers a handshake. Kowalski is a little taken aback but understands. The two smile at one another and shake flippers.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Skipper,” Manfredi calls out, as he and Johnson re-enter the HQ.

Skipper steps out of the lab to find them climbing down the ladder. Based on his conversation with Kowalski, it was a good thing the two went out on their supply run. It seems like they’ll need a lot more gadgets and gizmos if Kowalski will be concocting inventions up in his new workspace.

“Looks like our haul was successful.” Manfredi reports, dropping the fully loaded grocery bag from over his shoulder. Johnson, who had just joined him on the ground, had a matching bag.

“Outstanding!” Skipper approves of the treasures that his friends had raked in.

“Oh, and we picked you up a little something from the zoovenir shop.” Johnson rummages through the bag on his shoulder.

Oh a present? Well, that was nice. They didn’t have to get him anything. He felt elated that they had thought of him. Maybe this was their way of making amends, saying they approved of his plan after all. I mean, they had already agreed to carry out operations as a team. If they pulled that off, looking after a kid couldn’t be that hard.

Johnson tosses Skipper a cassette tape. It reads “Danielle’s Guide to Parenting: Baby Penguins”. The font is baby blue and whimsical. And if that weren’t sappy enough, there’s even a picture of a big, fluffy hatchling on it.

Manfredi and Johnson chuckle at Skipper’s surprised response. He was surely taken off guard at this little joke of theirs. Normally, he wouldn’t mind his friends kidding around so much. But this was different, it struck a nerve for some reason. It’s like they weren’t taking any of this seriously. This was important to Skipper - to see to it that the kid would have a good home. After everything he had done, this was the least he could do to make it up to Sam.

Angrily, he tosses the cassette back at Johnson.

“Hey,” Johnson backs off, catching the cassette tape. “Okay, we’ll take it back.”

Manfredi is also confused by Skipper’s reaction. He lifts his flippers in front of him. “We didn’t mean anything by it, Skipper. We just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into.” This was true. Admittedly, they did want to have a little fun with their friend in the process.

“Yeah, it’s a big responsibility to parent a chick.” Johnson defends himself.

“Parenting? I’m not going to be a parent!” Skipper gets very defensive. “The kid’s already got a father.”

Johnson scratches the back of his head. It seems like his friend is lashing out because of some sort of denial.

“But, Sam’s gone.” He says in a way that lingers in the air. It was almost his way of testing Skipper’s memory. Skipper knew that right? He had to have remembered.

“But I’m not the boy’s father and I never will be. It’s just not right. Sam is - … was the kid’s dad, alright? I’m not replacing him.” Skipper plants his feet and balling his flippers.

“And no one said you are,” Manfredi places a shoulder on the young hothead, to cool him down.

“Yeah, we didn’t know you would get this angry.” Johnson shrugs.

“We’re sorry. We’ll take it back.” Manfredi promises and shares a look with Johnson.

In the middle of the night, most of the team is fast asleep. After a hard day at work, everyone who is sleeping is knocked out. The only one that is awake has shut himself in the lab. Surprisingly enough, it’s not Kowalski eagerly working on his new projects. Instead, Skipper has brought Sam’s coffee mug in there with him. It appears the new leader couldn’t sleep. Instead, he stands there, where no one can see or hear him. He begins crying, finally letting out all of his tears. This isn’t going to be easy, but he just has to make Sam proud.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

Several months ago, Nigel sat amongst his family. It was long before the accident and the grief that followed. Though it was late fall, verging on winter, it was warm inside their habitat. The night was calm and still. Everything felt right with the world now that his nephew had entered into it. The little one would hopefully be the first of many nephews and nieces. Now that Nigel was back in town, he had the chance to meet the little one. It had been a couple days since the chick had hatched. Still, everyone in the family is utterly infatuated with the bundle of feathers and joy. In the corner, Nigel sits and looks on at the scene.

Eleanor, the child’s mother, is holding him comfortably in her flippers. She hadn’t wanted to let go of him since he had broken out of his shell. Hesitantly, she let him and their mother hold the child a couple times. But who could blame her? This is her son. Clearly, he is the pride and joy of both his parents. She slowly rocks the hatchling in her flipper and uses the other one to pet his head.

“My sweet little boy,” She sighs lovingly.

“What a darling little hatchling he is.” Standing next to her is the hatchling’s grandmother. The older penguin coos. Her wrinkled flipper tickles the round, fledgling's tummy.

The little guy giggles. Then, he leans closer into his mother. Just like she was known to do, he covers his little beak as he laughs. The apple surely didn’t fall too far from the tree there. Despite hiding, he is eating up all of the attention. He gladly welcomes it.

“Oh, and it looks like he knows we’re talking about him.” Nigel remarks, looking up at them. “The little ham.”

“He is quite cheeky, isn’t he?” Gran agrees.

“And you’re sure you want to go with the name Private?” Eleanor chuckles looking skeptically at her mate.

Her mate, Sam, is quite certain. He stands on the opposite side of her. Overlooking his son, he smiles down briefly at him. There is no one he’s loved more than this tiny creature that he and Eleanor had created. It is the sort of love he didn’t even know existed. Though it feels eerily familiar. Something about it - the desire to protect his son - is a lot like how he felt when Skipper was young.

“One hundred percent.” Sam leans in. He gives his son a big, goofy smile. This is enough to emit a laugh from Private. Then, he proceeds in a silly, nurturing voice. “He’s named after his uncle.”

“All right, but I get to name his future sibling.” Eleanor smirks, but it soon fades. She turns to find that Sam has lost his jolly expression. In the flip of a switch, he is now choking back tears.

It is difficult for him to talk about his brother. Ever since he turned Skipper away, he’s felt immensely guilty. But it all happened so fast. Skipper had been gone for months. Then all of a sudden, he showed up at their doorstep in a panic. Sam had barely been awake, let alone able to decipher Skipper’s incoherent ramblings. He made the best decision for his family that he could at the moment. Eleanor had tried to tell him that multiple times. But it reassured him very little.

“You know, if it hadn’t been for Skipper. We wouldn’t have ever met. I would never have left Antarctica even. There’s so much I would have missed out on if… -” Sam places a flipper beside his beak. He’s spiraling again.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eleanor places her flipper on Sam’s chest. “You did everything you could.” She could say this until the end of time. Yet he would never believe it. Not until Skipper had forgiven him.

“I just wish… - I just wish he could be here. He would be so happy to meet his nephew.” Sam smiles down at his son, with tears in his eyes. He places a gentle flipper on Private’s cheek.

“Daddy!” Private reaches out for his dad. Now, he really wants his papa to hold him.

Sam takes him into his flippers. Delicately he brings Private to his chest and lets him rest over the back of his shoulder. “Hi, Private.” He tilts his head to the side, lightly covering the little one. He stands there pensively for a moment. The mood in the room had completely changed. There is now a wistful feeling. He doesn’t like bringing the tone down. In fact, he feels ashamed for bringing attention away from his son.

“Nigel,” Sam, sniffles, and turns to his brother-in-law. “Anymore updates?”

Nigel stands up. He had been a spectator in all the recent activity. Now, he is being called upon as an active participant. He leaps into action but in a calm, polished manner.

Once it had been established that Sam would be a part of the family, he felt secure in sharing his double life with him. It isn’t easy being a secret agent. He can’t share his identity with just anyone. That would risk compromising his entire livelihood and possibly his family. Unlike Skipper, Nigel had a handle on his secret double life. After all, he had been in the game for quite some time now. However, now that Sam knew, he begged Nigel to use his skills to keep an eye on his brother. At a distance, Nigel had been tracking and spying on Skipper for a long time. It seems despite turning Skipper away, for the benefit of his family, Sam just couldn’t let go. His older-brother-instinct kept him interested in Skipper’s whereabouts. Due to their shared history and bond, their lives would now be intertwined forever. In fact, Sam would never stop worrying about Skipper, until the day he died.

That’s why delivering the most recent news was so difficult for Nigel. “No, I’m afraid not.” He clears his throat. “It appears that he’s still in Mexico hiding from the Danish government. And on their end, it doesn’t seem that things have resolved much.”

“Hmm.” Sam furrows his brow. Then, he remembers to thank his brother-in-law. Nigel had already done so much for him and Eleanor. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him for me.” Sam smiles but it is half-hearted. “And he still hasn’t noticed you spying on him?”

“Not in the slightest.” Nigel winks. Skipper is slick all right, but clearly not as observant as Nigel.

“Maybe we could invite him over for the holidays.” Eleanor smiles at Sam excitedly offering a solution. That would fix things, right? If they could re-extend their invitation, then he’d realize he isn’t alone. Even if it is impossible to bring him to London, she has to offer something. She can’t just sit there and watch Sam suffer.

Sam and Nigel exchange nervous looks.

“I - I wouldn’t want to startle him. He’s really been struggling lately.” Sam looks away. Nigel had reported that Skipper had been spouting off paranoid ramblings. It’s clear something had happened. He isn’t in a good mental state. Maybe he shouldn’t be around Private in this condition. As much as he wanted to offer Skipper a warm home, he still can’t risk it. Private is so little, defenseless. It is his job to protect him.

“It’s best to give the Danes some time to settle down as well.” Nigel offers.

“But you’re going to meet your Uncle Skipper someday, Private.” Sam lifts Private up in front of him. Private smiles at the attention. Sam keeps his promises flowing. Partially, he is talking to Private but also vowing to himself. “And you’re going to have so much fun with him. Your Uncle Skipper and I used to get into all kinds of adventures. And, you’re going to meet him, too.” He brings him back in. “I hope so, at least.”

Nigel watches Sam. All the pain in his eyes is clear as he holds his son. Though he now has started a beautiful family with Eleanor, he is still grieving. What’s even worse to Nigel is that his sister is hurting as a result. He would do anything to make those two happy. It is a shame that Sam feels responsible for what has happened to Skipper. If there is any way that Nigel can help fix things for them and his nephew, he will do it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Back at the Central Park Zoo and many months later, an elephant cry rings out. Hearing this, the Penguins rush into action. This is their chance. It is the first of many missions the team will embark on. Skipper jumps at the chance happily. Now is the test to see if they will sink or swim as a team. All their training is leading up to this moment.

When they arrive on the scene, a crowd of zoo animals has already gathered. It appears the elephant has somehow gotten his trunk in a twist. Literally. Somehow the giant pachyderm has managed to tangle his long appendage in the rings at the top of the fence. No matter how he pulls, digging his heels into the dirt, he cannot get free. Instead, each strain only leads to more distress.

“Youch!” The giant animal whines. “Aw man!”

“Not to worry, quadruped! Help has arrived!” Skipper announces, puffing out his chest. His confidence is impeccable. The team of penguins stand on top of a brick wall across from the elephant. The sound of his voice attracts the attention of each spectator.

“Kowalski, untangle the trunk! Rico, interview the witnesses! Manfredi, Johnson, and I will secure the elephant!” Skipper commands, before leaping off the wall and spinning in mid-air.

Kowalski immediately goes to work on the trunk. He inspects the damage, lifting Burt’s trunk and waddling around it. It appears that the limb is sore, as the slightest touch causes Burt to flinch. This causes distress from the three penguins trying to secure his feet.

“Ah, a simple logic puzzle,” Kowalski remarks before getting to work. He can do this!

Meanwhile, Rico is off to interview the zoo inhabitants. He goes to two chimps who appear to have witnessed the event. This is his big moment. He can’t let Skipper down. He clears his throat. “Wha happ’n?”

The two chimps, having no clue what he has said, turn to each other. With confused expressions, they, like many of the other zoo animals, are unsure as to what is happening.

“Pardon?” Mason asks politely.

“Now, take it easy, big gray.” Skipper pats Burt’s front, left leg. “Nice and steady.”

Manfredi and Johnson both hold onto the rear legs, while Rico completes his interview. However, it is in no time that Kowalski untangles Burt. The large elephant, who had placed all his weight into his back hooves, didn’t prepare for this. Due to his own pushing, he is sent flying back.

“Oh no, no, no!” Manfredi and Johnson exclaim, as Burt’s rear begins plummeting towards them.

Unfortunately, Skipper doesn’t notice. In fact, none of the other penguins or zoo animals do. He leaps next to Kowalski on top of the fence. Rico is quick to join them. The rest of the zoo animals look on with awe. Who are these strange penguins? They’ve never met anyone like them.

Soon, Burt gets back to his feet. In turn, Manfredi and Johnson scoop themselves up from off the ground. Holding their heads, they are truly glad the mission is complete.

“Ugh, thanks guys.” Burt heaves a gigantic sigh of relief. “That Kid Kazoo really got me in a knot that time.”

“No problemo, big gray!” Skipper leans up against the rings, like a hotshot.

“Actually, it’s Burt.” He introduces himself to the odd, tiny stranger. The kind elephant laughs it off.

“Oh, well. Nice to meet you, long trunks.” Skipper winks and salutes. “If you ever have any more trouble, just know that me and my team are on the case.”

“Great! Great…” An Asian otter chimes in. She stands on the ground looking up at the spectacle that has just occurred. “And who are you exactly?”

“The name’s Skipper.” Skipper leaps down from the wall. “And these knuckleheads are my team - Kowalski’s the brains, Rico’s the brawn, Manfredi’s the charm, and Johnson’s the street smarts. We are a highly trained unit, dedicated to protecting and serving this zoo.” Skipper puffs out his chest once more and states proudly.

The rest of the zoo animals exchange looks. None of them had met anyone like this tiny, bold creature.

“Hi, I’m Marlene!” She extends her paw. “I’m your next-door… well, next habitat neighbor. Anyway, I noticed you’re new here -”

“Kowalski, analysis.” Skipper interrupts her, without even shaking her paw.

“It appears she is a female, Asian otter, sir.” Kowalski states plainly.

“Ah,” Skipper nods, then covers his beak and turns to Kowalski. He whispers to be undetected. “Is she carnivorous?”

“Only to fish, insects, and crabs.” Kowalski reports.

“Hmm,” Skipper nods.

She continues, hoping not to be interrupted again. “Actually, I really only eat fish and shellfish. But anyway, like I was saying, I’m actually a transfer here too. Well, from my old aquarium, and I just wanted to - ”

“You just wanted to thank us for our hard work here today.” Skipper presumes.

“What? Well, I guess, but, I was actually - ” Marlene stammers.

“Well, there’s no need! Us penguins are naturally inclined to take on any crisis or danger. We’re always happy to help a damsel in need.” Skipper smiles and proudly leans his head back with his flippers on hips.

“A-a-a damsel? Excuse me?” This is when Marlene grows a little offended. Who does this penguin think he is? First, he won’t let her finish a sentence. This guy is rather arrogant. So far, he’s not making the best impression. She crosses her arms.

“Okay, Skipper, time to go.” Johnson pats Skipper’s shoulder, before dragging him away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Once the Penguins make it back to their habitat, Skipper is eager to address the team. It is time for notes and their debriefing. They all stand in line prepared for further instruction from their leader.

“Well, boys, looks like our very first mission was a success.” Skipper reports.

“Yay!” Manfredi cheers.

“All right!” Kowalski and Rico high five.

“But, in terms of precision and overall form, we were a sloppy mess.” Skipper finishes with a completely different tone.

“Oh,” Manfredi delates.

“Well, you can’t win them all. We are amateurs at this whole mission-thing, after all.” Johnson shrugs.

“Exactly! That’s why we have to keep training until we perfect those skills.” Skipper claps his flippers together. He is determined to whip this team into shape. Surely, they were on the right track. They were off to a good start. But good isn’t good enough. He needs more from them.

“Ugh,” Johnson facepalms.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Just as Skipper said, the team woke up bright and early the next morning. Well… more like, they woke up early. In fact, they were up before the sun. Drudging out of bed, none but Skipper was chomping at the bit to start their day so early.

Come mid-afternoon, they had all lost steam. Manfredi and Johnson were especially struggling to keep pace. For nearly all of the moves, Skipper would have to pause his lesson and re-teach them. None of this came easy to them. It seems Rico and Kowalski were a bit more enthusiastic. Still, they were all drained.

“Skipper, we’ve been working on this since 5am this morning.” Manfredi sighs.

“Isn’t it time to wrap up for the day?” Johnson groans.

“Not a chance, besides you two still need to catch up! You’ve really been struggling with the last several moves.” Skipper snaps.

“If I may, Skipper, it might be best for morale if we do take a slight break to recharge.” Kowalski offers.

“Hmm,” Skipper rubs his chin. “Well, you make a fair point. Take a brief recess, boys. We’ll reconvene in approximately… 30 minutes!”

In this time, the boys disperse. Rico goes off to take a nap down in the HQ. Kowalski is swimming laps, while Manfredi and Johnson munch on the fish that had been thrown to them. Skipper is still busy at work, re-listening to passages from General Shinjin’s biography.

“Hey guys!” Suddenly the otter from before leaps onto the deck.

“Woah, woah, woah! This is strictly penguin-only operations here. This habitat is classified.” Skipper is startled by the stranger. Do all of these zoo animals feel comfortable invading each other’s space? In the wild, things are much different.

“Oh,” Marlene pauses. She had come over hoping to make a good second impression. It appears she and this penguin had gotten off on the wrong foot before. Maybe she can give him a second chance.

“Sorry about him.” Johnson shakes his head. Skipper really needs to learn how to relax a bit if he’s going to make it here in the zoo. He steps in between them. “The name’s Johnson.”

“Marlene,” she smiles warmly. “And you’re Skipper, is that right?” She asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Skipper is a little taken back. Had he done something wrong? He edits his behavior, saluting her. “Nice to meet you, Marlene.”

“You too!” She smiles. Okay, this is going better than before. “So, by the way, I just thought I would let you guys know…” She eagerly elbows Skipper. He is taken aback by the friendly stranger.

She continues. “Since there are so many new residents here, I thought we could all use a little bonding to get to know each other, you know, as neighbors.”

“Bonding?” Skipper questions.

Kowalski interprets this as a request for information. “Bonding; an adjective and present participle tense of the word bond. It means to grow accustomed to someone.”

“Ah,” Skipper nods, not really sure what is happening.

“So, I took it upon myself to host a talent show!” Marlene cheers.

“A talent show?” Skipper can’t believe what he is hearing. Surely zoo life is already much different from the real world. He had no time for talent shows, only survival.

“Eh, no thanks. We’re not really - ” Skipper starts but now he is the one interrupted.

“That sounds like a great idea!” Manfredi exclaims.

“Sure, why not.” Johnson shrugs.

“Ooh! Maybe we can do an act where we combine your skills and my science!” Kowalski squeaks.

Skipper really has no choice now but to let this happen. So long as the team kept their wits about it, there shouldn’t be a problem. If their talent somehow gives away some of their top-secret information, then that might be a problem. However, he trusts his team’s judgment. He himself won’t be participating. That’s for sure. Who wants to go up in front of strangers and make a fool out of himself? Not a chance.

“Listen, Skipper, we’re going to be living with these neighbors for a while. We might as well get to know them. You know, earn their trust.” Johnson wraps a flipper around Skipper.

“You boys can go ahead with your la-dee-da talent show. I’ll keep watch.” Skipper crosses his flippers stubbornly.

“Oh, okay,” Marlene nods with a big smile on her face. It is hiding just how confused she really is. “Well, I’ll see you there!”

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As you can imagine, with Kowalski’s habit of haphazard inventions and Manfredi and Johnson’s accident proneness, the talent show turned out to be an utter mess. Unfortunately for the Penguins, and the rest of the attendants for that matter, this knowledge was not yet known.

Now that the night is here, all of the Penguins are hard at work on Manfredi and Johnson’s act. The plan is for Manfredi and Johnson to tell a couple knock-knock jokes. But the big finish would be the cart of Chinese lanterns that would be sent up at the end of their segment. The lantern cart was the handiwork of Kowalski. Thanks to Rico, they got the idea of setting them off with a bang… with rocket fuel that is!

Skipper stands in the back, overlooking the crowd. He searches for any sign of an intruding foe or possible riot. With constructed binoculars of empty paper cups and rubber bands, he scans the scene. It is his job as a part of the team to be a defender for the zoo. Now, that his team is all wrapped up in this silly talent show business, it is his job, especially as a leader, to pick up the slack.

“Hiya, Skipper!” Marlene comes up behind him.

This startles the penguin and he jumps. Instinctively, he goes into fight mode and lifts out on his right. Bad luck for Marlene, as the reflex sends the paper cup right out of her paw. Her punch spills all over the ground.

“Oops,” Skipper rubs the back of his head. Perhaps, he is being a bit too distrusting of his new neighbors. “My bad.”

“You know what, it’s fine. It’s totally fine! Everything’s fine!” Despite her words, everything does not seem fine. In fact, it appears that Marlene is freaking out.

“Okay…” Skipper tries to avoid eye contact, feeling awkward. Then, his conscience gets the better of him. “Are you sure… about that?”

“No,” Marlene sighs. “It’s just everyone was so close back at my old aquarium and here it feels like no one really knows one another. I thought this talent show would bring us all together but… nevermind. I’m sorry! You really don’t want me rambling at you, I’m sure.”

Skipper suddenly feels bad for this otter. She isn’t up to anything heinous. He can see that now. In contrast, it seems she’s doing everything she can to do right by the others. Maybe they have some things in common.

“Well, so what if it doesn’t work out?” Skipper shrugs. “It’s just a talent show. There'll be other opportunities for the zoo to… bond.” The word feels foreign to him.

“Well, I guess you’re right.” Marlene shrugs.

“Relax,” Skipper slaps her on the back. This is his way of showing compassion. In a manly, platonic way of course. “Enjoy yourself. You put all the work into getting this together. You should enjoy it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I should!” Marlene straightens up proudly.

“‘Least those knuckleheads seem to be having a good time up there.” Skipper points to Manfredi and Johnson who are now up doing their act.

Just then, Manfredi and Johnson are on their very last joke. This is it. The moment they’ve been waiting for. All Rico and Kowalski have to do is wait for their cue. Rico will light the rocket fuel and Kowalski will send the cart rolling behind Manfredi and Johnson. As soon as they start their last joke, it’s time for the big finish.

“All right, all right,” Manfredi laughs. “Thank you! You’ve been a lovely audience.”

“Now for our next and final joke,” Johnson starts.

“What happened to the seal that walked into -” Manfredi begins.

KABOOM! Just as he begins to speak, the cart rolls behind them. The rocket fuel and lanterns did not in fact mix. Well, the problem is they mixed all too well. An explosion engulfs Manfredi and Johnson and leaves the audience stunned. Not a single mouth, beak, or snout is left closed.

“Medic!” Skipper runs up, calling on Kowalski.

Worst. Talent. Show, Ever.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Back in the HQ, Manfredi and Johnson have been bandaged up. They look utterly defeated. Johnson’s right flipper is in a sling. Poor Manfredi’s left leg had to be replaced. A plunger sticks out of his body as a makeshift prosthetic. Completely stunned from what has just happened, they exchange glances.

“Welp, guess we learned our lesson about pyrotechnics and puns, huh?” Skipper forces himself to chuckle. No one joins him. He begins to feel nervous. At least they’re safe, well… relatively.

“Might I recommend a nice, quiet night in?” Kowalski taps his flippers together sheepishly. He feels guilty about his part in the incident as well.

“Movie night!” Rico belts out into song.

“Excellente!” Skipper claps his flippers. That’ll boost morale - make them happy. And if he keeps them happy, they’ll stick around. At least, that’s how he thinks it works. “I’ll go on a snack run, while - “

“Actually, Skipper, it might be best if the two of us go.” Johnson sighs.

“In your condition, are you sure that’s the best idea?” Kowalski asks with concern.

“Yeah, we just need some time to clear our heads is all.” Manfredi replies. They are already making their way up the ladder.

Skipper feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. Why did he authorize a rocket fuel routine? He suddenly feels a pang of insecurity arising in him. Does he really have what it takes to look out for his team? As a leader, it’s his job. On the other hand, he never had to worry about the two of them in the past. Manfredi and Johnson surely can handle themselves.

As Manfredi and Johnson hobble their way out of the zoo and towards the park, they notice a shady figure approaching. Given their inability to see the figure well, this causes them to stop cold. It appears to be someone their size. Could Hans be back? Is it someone here to track them all down? They brace themselves for the worst. However, running isn’t their style. Boldly, they walk towards the mysterious figure.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I’m looking for a Manfredi and Johnson. Might you two be them?” An older, British penguin asks. He steps in the glow of an overhead, zoo light.

“Oh ye - ” Manfredi begins but is elbowed by Johnson.

“Who wants to know?” Johnson crosses his flippers. He can’t be too sure. This stranger was just stalking them. They can’t just be willy nilly.

“Oh where are my manners? My name is Nigel.” Nigel extends his flipper. It seems they don’t trust him. From the context, he can understand why. He tries to present himself in a harmless, friendly manner. “I’m Private’s uncle - on his mother’s side.”

Manfredi shakes his flipper eagerly. “Oh, you must want to talk to Skipper. He’s actually over - “

“Well, I was really hoping to speak to the two of you alone. If that would be something you both would be comfortable with.” Nigel tilts his head and smiles.

“What’s so important that Skipper can’t hear?” Johnson backs up a step. He’s loyal to his friend. If this involves the kid, Skipper ought to know. He doesn’t want to be involved in any sorta business behind Skipper’s back.

“Well, it’s about my nephew. You see, I’ve been keeping a close eye on the three of you. Likely for longer than you’ve realized.” Nigel sighs. This is going to be difficult to say and maintain their trust. His friendly tone fades into a regretful one. “I’m just not sure that you two are the best influences for Skipper.”

“What? So, you’re saying you don’t want us around your nephew?” Manfredi is instantly offended.

“Listen here, pal, - “ Johnson takes a more aggressive approach.

“No, goodness! That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that” Nigel takes a breath. “Skipper’s been working very hard to make himself into a role model for Private. I just wouldn’t want this team to fail… and for him to fall back into his old habits.”

“Oh,” Manfredi pauses. “I mean sure we’re taking a bit longer than the others to get these concepts down. But Skipper would surely let us bow out if we were too much of a burden, right?”

“Hm,” Johnson grunts. He is not so sure.

“Right?” Manfredi looks over at Johnson. Some backup would be nice.

“And what would you suppose we do instead?” Johnson crosses his flippers.

“Well, there is a nice penguin habitat at SeaVille. It’s quite lovely there and it appears they’re looking for new residents.” Nigel offers the promising deal.

“So, we’d just leave?” Manfredi asks.

“Well, yes. But it is quite a nice option.” Nigel pleads. It appears he isn’t getting to them. Maybe his approach was too harsh. Despite his posh decorum, he still managed to offend Skipper’s friends.

“That’s quite the request.” Johnson huffs.

“But please, all I ask is that you sincerely consider what will be best for my nephew and Skipper.” Nigel looks at them with pleading eyes.

He is speaking honestly with them. Just as he had promised Sam, he will keep a close eye on Skipper. It was Sam’s wish that Skipper would reunite with him. But now, that would never happen. Nigel sees it as his duty to ensure that at least Private will get to meet his other uncle. In order to do that, he has to ensure Skipper can provide a healthy, loving home for him. Even if that means manipulating the situation slightly, he will do anything for his nephew.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Quit the team?” Skipper gasps. “You can’t be serious!”

Manfredi and Johnson sigh collectively. It’s as if the scars and bandages aren’t even to prove their accident proneness. Their request for resignation didn’t quite go as planned. Skipper isn’t quite as receptive as they had hoped.

“It’s not like we’ll be going anywhere.” Manfredi shrugs, with sad eyes.

“We just won’t be training or going on missions. We’re slowing you guys down. Nothing personal. It’s for the better of the team.” Johnson tries to reason with Skipper.

“Request denied!” Skipper exclaims. He’s losing them too. But he can’t let them go. First, they quit the team and what’s next? They leave him. He can’t let that happen. Now that he’s finally creating a team, he can’t turn back. He has to do something. There has to be something he can do. He sighs. “Maybe we just need a break. Sometime to rest and sort our heads.”

“Ooh! Vacation!” Rico cheers.

“Well, if we’re looking for vacation spots, I’ve been wanting to study the history and culture of Ecuador!” Kowalski rings out. “Plus, I’d love to investigate the mythology of the flying piranhas.”

“Ooh! Ecuador! I’ve been wanting to do some more exploring of South America. Plus, it’s far enough away from Denmark.” Skipper is all for this idea.

Manfredi sighs. “Okay, we’ll give it a try.”

Johnson facepalms.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Soon enough, the vacation to Ecuador takes a naturally Penguin-ish turn. Before they know it, they are lurking through the jungles of Ecuador. Just as Kowalski was hoping, they are now in search of the elusive, so-called flying piranhas.

“Skipper, are you sure about this?” Manfredi asks in a quivering voice. He stays close to Johnson. This is certainly not his idea of a relaxing holiday.

“C’mon,” Skipper laughs. “It’s us. We’ve faced far worse. Trust me, Manfredi, what could go wrong?”

The answer is a lot. A lot could go wrong. As a matter of fact, they do find the flying piranhas. However, they are unprepared for the encounter to be so sudden. They are caught off guard and left running from the paranormal creatures. It is an utter nightmare. Amidst the chase, Manfredi trips and Johnson stays behind to help him up. In terror, the team runs and they are separated from the two.

Once the frenzy of piranhas dissipates, the jungle falls silent. It is an utterly chilling atmosphere. Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico have managed to escape. Hiding behind a tree, they poke their heads out once the coast is clear. But their friends are missing. Where are Manfredi and Johnson?

Skipper immediately rushes off to find them. His mind is flooded with images of the worst case scenario. This only brings back memories of Sam. No, no. This is all too familiar. He has to find them. They have to be okay. This isn’t happening. No, not again. He tries to hide his horror as much as possible.

“Manfredi? Johnson?” Skipper cries out. “Where are you?”

“Manfredi?” Kowalski calls.

“Johnson?” Rico grunts out.

“Boys?” Skipper’s voice cracks. There’s no sign of his friends anywhere.

Deep in the brush, Manfredi and Johnson are in fact alive. Though they are a bit scraped up from their encounter with the monsters, they are safe. That is… at least for the time being. They managed to hide from the piranhas. It is not long after the frenzy died down that they hear the three penguins calling for them. The devastation is apparent in Skipper’s voice especially.

“Sk –” Manfredi stands up from the brush, but immediately Johnson shoves a flipper in front of his beak.

Johnson shoves Manfredi in close. They dive back down into the foliage. Utterly confused by the situation Manfredi follows Johnson’s lead. He is quiet and listens to what Johnson has to say. After all, he is holding him down. There’s really nowhere he can go.

“Listen, Manfredi. We’re just not cut out for this sorta stuff. Back in the day we were excellent at our tricks but this whole secret agent gig is way beyond our capacities. We’re barely surviving the training sessions. Imagine what it’ll be like when we have to help raise a kid on top of it.”

“Well, we looked after Skipper for a little bit, and he turned out fine.” Manfredi doesn’t want to give up hope just yet.

Johnson lets him go, but looks at him flatly. “Manfredi, he ran off and hid in the Mexican jungles for a year.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Manfredi chuckles sheepishly.

“I worry we’re doing more harm than good by being a part of this team.” Johnson gets to the point.

“Maybe, the best thing for him and the kid would be for us to split.” Manfredi sighs.

They pause for a second. Taking in their decision, they remain quiet until they are certain.

“I guess, it’s off to SeaVille, then.” Johnson nods.

“Yeah,” Manfredi agrees, with tears in his eyes. It is time for them to move on. Skipper needs to grow. They have to let him grow, even if that means their journey with him is over.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Skipper?” Kowalski whispers. He hadn’t heard his leader speak, since they had arrived home from Ecuador.

The leader plops himself down at the table. Sitting in front of him is his empty coffee mug. He rolls it around on the table, the bottom of the mug circling the surface. As his eyes fill with tears, he says nothing. All his concentration lies in that mug.

When he doesn’t respond, Rico gives it a try. He whimpers. “Skipper?”

Skipper takes a deep breath. He snorts down his tears. “Listen, boys, I uh… I’ve made a real mess of things. It’s become pretty clear we - … I’ve failed.” Skipper hangs his head and sighs. “It’s probably for the best that you both leave and seek other opportunities elsewhere. Mama Nature knows I wouldn’t blame you.”

Kowalski and Rico exchange shocked expressions. This was now their home. The three of them had become a team - a family. In fact, for both of them, this was the only real family they had. Skipper had already come to mean so much to both of them. And Kowalski and Rico meant so much to each other. It was as if they were now bonded. Within those months of training and living together, they had gotten so accustomed to one another. It ran deeper than friendship. It was a brotherhood. And now, that they had lost two of their brothers, he was suggesting that they just leave? The proposition was heartbreaking.

Without saying another word, Kowalski and Rico’s dismayed expressions form into straight faces. They nod. It seems even without speaking, they know what they must do. As Skipper sits with his head in his flippers, he is taken by surprise. All at once, the two penguins wrap their flippers around their grieving leader. They aren’t going to leave him, especially not now. They had just lost two of their own. Skipper needs them now more than ever.

Skipper looks up in confusion. “Huh?” He is completely ensnared in their flippers as they snuggle closer.

“Nope,” Rico shakes his head.

“We’re not going anywhere, Skipper.” Kowalski hums.

Kowalski lifts his head out of the group hug and leans back. With a flipper on Skipper’s back, he quips. “Besides, the penguin credo dictates none of us should swim alone.”

Skipper smiles up at them. He can’t believe it. They’re staying with him. Even after he’s proven that he doesn’t quite have it all together; even if he isn’t perfect, they still love him. Eh, maybe love is a strong word that he’s not quite comfortable with yet. It’ll take time. But it is still true in this situation.

But how can this be? After all of that searching throughout his whole life, could he have finally found what would make him feel whole? Funny enough, he always resented the idea of starting a family. But this isn’t like any other family. This is his family. His wacky and brainiac brothers love him unconditionally. Aside from Sam, he had never truly experienced that sort of love. Quite frankly, there were times when he felt unworthy of it. Maybe that sort of thing just wasn’t for him. But it is now. For the first time in a long time, Skipper’s found a family. And he knows, he’ll never be alone again.

[To Be Continued]

Chapter Text

Many years had passed since the unfortunate night when they had lost Manfredi and Johnson. Despite all of the close calls those two had, Skipper never imagined that he would actually lose them. But he had to move on. His new team needed him. They had already proven that they weren’t going anywhere. The least he could do in return was be the leader they deserved. Besides, he still had to prepare for looking after Private.

Without a doubt, Rico and Kowalski had displayed a tremendous amount of growth under Skipper’s leadership. Pretty soon, the three of them were going on missions beyond the zoo gates. Even Skipper saw improvement in himself. Turns out, they were living the life Skipper had always dreamt of, but they were doing it together. They even managed to tango with their new archnemesis - Dr. Blowhole - an evil genius dolphin from SeaVille. Kowalski was creating inventions left and right, with most… a slight majority of them functioning successfully. Everything seemed to be coming together for their little family. Despite their success, Skipper maintained a certain level of distance. Friendship was good. They had finagled their way into his heart, past the point of acquaintances. Though past the entertaining zoo guests, training, and missions, they mostly kept to themselves. Mostly because Skipper still had his wall up. Despite their promise to stay, worst case scenarios still plagued Skipper’s thoughts.

However, the day soon came when their lives would once again change forever. Skipper didn’t expect it to arrive so soon. Although ten years could have passed and yet, Skipper would never feel quite ready. This newest mission of his would take everything he had.

The boys sit in the HQ on a warm spring morning. Skipper sips his coffee, while Kowalski is tinkering with his latest gizmo. Rico has been taking advantage of the nice weather and is swimming around the habitat. Not a single one of them suspects what is yet to come.

That is, until the fish bowl up top is tossed aside. The abruptness causes Kowalski to peek out of his lab and exchange a confused glance with Skipper. Rico barrels down the ladder. He is all out of breath. Shaking the water of his feathers, like a dog, he is quick to relay a message. Whatever he has to say must be urgent. Skipper leaps to his feet. Kowalski approaches as well.

“Alice!” Rico lifts his flippers, speaking gibberish. “Walkie-talkie! Gabala Raba Raba!”

Kowalski is able to interpret a little faster than Skipper. They’ve known Rico for long enough now. They can understand his speech patterns better than the rest of the animals. “You heard Alice on the walkie-talkie saying there’s a new arrival?”

Skipper pauses. It can’t be. However, he can’t let his shock show. He hadn’t told Kowalski or Rico about the agreement he made with Nigel. As far as they know, this could be any animal. That could truly be the case. Who says it has to be Private? Already? What are the odds? Skipper calms himself down. Internally, he scoffs at his panic.

“To the loading dock, men!” Skipper orders.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When the Penguins arrive at the loading dock, they discover Rico is correct. There is an unopened crate. Amongst the opened and used crates along the walls, it looks rather lonely in the large room. Whatever is inside doesn’t seem to be making any noise either. This causes a sinking feeling to arise in the pit of Skipper’s gut. The box is a little taller than Kowalski and cube-shaped. This means that whoever’s inside can’t be too large.

“Wha is it?” Rico grunts, tilting his head.

“Hmm, this calls for careful scientific observation.” Kowalski squints, before leaning in and knocking on the box.

From inside the box, there is a soft rustling sound. This only confirms the theory that the animal can’t be too large. It appears the specimen is trying to remain muted or as quiet as possible. Perhaps, they’re frightened.

Rico and Kowalski are puzzled when Skipper doesn’t give a command. In fact, he is left trembling where he stands. He tries not to let it show. Despite his best efforts, they are able to tell that he is perturbed.

“No to worry, Skipper. The box appears to be too small for any predator. That is unless it’s a hawk or any other bird of prey.” Kowalski pauses to think more. “Or maybe a Tasmanian devil.”

“Okay,” Skipper shakes himself out of his trance. Plus, Kowalski’s making him even more nervous. “Let’s open her up, boys!”

Rico hacks up a crowbar. In a flash, he goes to the side of the box. After all, he is just as eager to see who is inside. That’s when the scurrying inside starts to pick up. Perhaps, the jolt of the crowbar wedging into the wood, is scaring whoever is inside. It’s not long before Rico is able to completely remove the side of the crate. From there, he is able to swing it open like a door.

“Hello?” A soft voice calls out.

The three penguins walk closer to get a better look. Immediately, they are enamored with what they see. Skipper’s tense, uncertain gaze fades into a warm smile. Kowalski and Rico are quicker to approach. They stand in front of Skipper, while he hangs back. He has to figure out how to approach. This is the first time he’s felt completely speechless in a long time. The two of them lean in, towering over the newest resident of the zoo.

Inside the crate is a little penguin. Older than a chick but definitely not an adolescent, the round penguin stares up at them. He appears rather timid. With his pear-shaped body, he sits alongside the opposite end of the box. These strangers are a bit intimidating, especially the two large penguins looming over him. He taps his tiny flippers together. By the looks of this little stranger, Skipper immediately recognizes him. This is Private. He looks so much like Sam still. He has his mother’s eyes and body shape now, but he still bears an uncanny resemblance to Skipper’s brother.

“Well, would you look at that.” Kowalski tilts his head, cooing over the little penguin.

“D’aww!” Rico sighs, looking back at Skipper for a reaction.

Skipper clears his throat and tries to speak casually. “Looks like we got ourselves a new recruit, boys.” He places his flippers on his hips. “Hi there, little soldier. It’s all right. You can come out.”

That’s when Private gets to his feet. With trembling legs, he is a little wobbly. As a result, he holds onto the side of the box for stability. He still hasn’t made his mind up about coming out of the box. Instead, he sends his greeting from where he stands.

“Hi,” he squeaks.

The adorability causes Rico and Kowalski to squeal. They could just eat this little guy up. He is so precious. In no time, he’ll be talking more hopefully. How exciting this is for them to now have a new edition to their little family. Rico thinks of all the things he can do with his new brother, while Kowalski is eager to teach him all that he knows about the world.

Skipper tries to retain his composure. “The name’s Skipper.” He winks and salutes the kid. With a little luck, his relaxed composure will weigh out those two knuckleheads. All the fawning is probably overwhelming the child.

“Kowalski here” Kowalski salutes as well.

“Rico!” Rico bursts out with excitement, lifting his flippers. It appears the energy devoted to adoring the penguin has transferred to introducing himself.

This jars Private. To see the strange-looking penguin yell, even excitedly, scares him. He scrambles between him and Kowalski. Clearly he had been cornered into the box. There is no other way for him to escape, except past them. Once he manages to push through, he collides right into Skipper. He scampers straight into his gut. This moment is oddly familiar to Skipper.

The little penguin is now practically standing on Skipper’s feet. He looks down at him. Neither one is quite sure what to say. Now he is able to get a much closer look at just how much the chick has grown. His adult feathers have come in for the most part. Now, looking down into Private’s eyes, it feels as though he’s looking at Eleanor.

“Oh, um, sorry.” Private gets a hold of himself. He scratches the back of his head and steps back sheepishly. Forcing a smile, he brings his flippers together in front of him. So this is the penguin Uncle Nigel sent him to live with? He seems a bit scary. Maybe a little stern. However, he’s not nearly as frightening as the one with the feathers sticking up on his head. Private gulps. “Are you Skippah?”

“Guilty as charged,” Skipper states. Sam’s final test for him starts now. He can already feel the pressure build back up.

“I’m Private! You knew my father!” Private’s eyes light up. He eagerly taps his flippers together. Already he is wanting to know information. And yet, Skipper doesn’t know how much he should tell Private. “Sam Fishy, right?”

This immediate recognition of him is unexpected. Skipper doesn’t know what to say. But as uncomfortable as he is, Kowalski and Rico are that much more confused. They both look at each other and back to Private. What is this penguin talking about? Skipper knows him? He is a friend of the family? They didn’t know Skipper had friends in his past. Well, they didn’t know much about his past to be fair.

Skipper clears his throat and takes a step back. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Well, ….” Private is left stammering. He can finally learn more about his dad. This is so exciting. When his uncle sent him away, he was scared but now he’ll get to find out about his dad. That’s certainly a perk. He’s been waiting to have this conversation with Skipper for so long. “How did you know him?”

“Uh, we were friends.” Skipper looks away, casually shrugging off Private’s question. It hurts to demote his bond with Sam as a mere friendship. The truth is they were brothers. But he wants to be careful what he tells Private. This is all happening so fast. The kid just got here and he feels like he’s being interrogated. Maybe this is going to be much more difficult than he thought.

“What was he like?” Private steps forward, closing the space. He’s much more focused on his eagerness to learn about his dad than his initial anxiety now. It’s as if he has forgotten he is around strangers.

“Uh…, let’s talk about that later, okay?” Skipper turns away. He doesn’t know what else to do. This kid is relentless. Sam would never have been so touchy.

“Let’s get back to the HQ, boys,” Skipper motions for the three of them to join him.

On the walk back to the HQ, Rico and Kowalski pick up the slack with Private. Skipper literally maintains a distance from his team. Withholding their own questions, Rico and Kowalski talk with Private. They do their best to make the newest member of their team feel welcome. They tell him all about the missions they’ve accomplished and ask him about his prior life at the London Zoo.

As all of this is happening, Skipper’s mind is racing. Now that Private is here, there are so many things he hadn’t thought of. He spent the last few years of his life preparing for Private’s arrival. But now that the day has come, it’s as if all his progress was for naught. He hadn’t prepared himself mentally or emotionally. Since Private is fully aware that Skipper knew his father, he has to be sure that he doesn’t show any favoritism towards him. That could jeopardize the whole stability of the team. And without them, what would he have left? Plus, looking at Private now that he has grown, is a reminder of what Skipper has lost. How can he not grow resentful? That certainly wouldn’t be fair to Private. Keep him at a distance. Yes! That’s the answer to both of those problems. If Skipper can keep the child at even more of a distance than the other two, then both problems will be resolved. He can be a role model for Private from a distance.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Once they have settled Private into what will be his new home, Skipper calls the team to attention. Kowalski and Rico know the drill. They line up and face Skipper. Private, on the other hand, has no clue. Kowalski gently guides him into the line formation.

“Now that we have everything settled in and straightened out, there’s one thing I want to make clear to you boys.” Skipper paces. “While it’s all great and jolly that we’re all getting along swimmingly, I want you boys to know that I’m nobody’s ‘pal’ or ‘buddy’ or ‘dad’ even. I’m your commanding officer.”

Skipper stops to puff out his chest. This is when Private’s gaze catches his eye. He tries to force himself to look away but his eye is drawn to him. It’s as if his brain recognizes Sam, only to be fooled every time. Private tilts his head. What is Skipper talking about? Has he angered him with his questions?

“Aye, aye, Skipper!” Kowalski salutes.

“Uh huh,” Rico salutes as well.

They both look at Private. He still doesn’t know what to do.

“Psst,” Kowalski whispers and emphasizes his flipper position.

“Oh,” Private looks at them and emulates their salute. “Yes,” he nods.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

In the days that follow, Skipper begins to see just how different Private is from his dad. The first occurrence happens the very next day. As the team is preparing for breakfast, Skipper pours his first of many cups of coffee. Rico and Kowalski have settled down at the table with some fish and a couple pieces of toast. Before finding a seat, Private approaches Skipper.

“Skippah, do we have any tea?” Private tilts his head, asking politely.

“Tea?” Skipper is taken aback. So he’s a tea drinker? Sam always drank coffee.

“Yes, every morning my Gran would make us some tea. I was wondering if - “

“Nope, this is a coffee HQ.” Skipper is quick to refuse.

“Ooh! But there is a lovely little tea shop down on Fifth Avenue!” Kowalski chimes in.

Private laughs, “Back home we call it ‘cuppa’. It’s short for ‘cup of tea’.”

Kowalski is amused by Private’s story.

“Maybe we can go sometime?” Private smiles, turning back to Skipper for approval.

“Eh,” Skipper shrugs and waddles away without giving a real answer.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The differences don’t stop at the petty tea predicament. While out on the deck, Kowalski is doing recon. With his makeshift binoculars, he scans the perimeter. While Rico and Skipper are stretching, Kowalski turns all around him. Private smiles and waves when Kowalski is facing him. This emits a chuckle from the older penguin. Completing his scan, Kowalski pulls down the binoculars.

“You see anything, Kowalski?” Skipper asks.

“No, but I did see a squirrel scampering along the zoo wall.” Kowalski reports.

“Hm,” Skipper places a flipper to his chin. That could be a problem. “Was he red?”

“No, Skipper, I can confirm with confidence that it wasn't the Red Squirrel.” Kowalski responds with the utmost seriousness in his voice.

“Phew!” Rico sighs.

Private giggles. “Who’s the Red Squirrel?”

The others collectively gasp.

“The Red Squirrel, Private.” Skipper repeats slower. Surely, he must have been taught about the Red Squirrel. All penguin chicks were. Why, it is for their own protection. It would be ludicrous not to teach a hatchling about him. What’s next? Not knowing about Buck Rockgut? “As in public, penguin enemy number one.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell.” Private blinks.

“Well, haven’t you ever heard of Buck Rockgut?” Kowalski interjects.

“Um, no.” Private shrinks. “Is he important?”

Sam had been the one to teach Skipper all about Buck Rockgut. He can’t believe what he is hearing. How could Sam’s own son not know who Rockgut was? Private should have been taught all the stories before now. It’s as if he’s not even related to Sam. For someone who looks so much like Sam, it’s getting more difficult to see further resemblance.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day, the team has settled in for the night. There’s a whole Shirtless Ninja Action Theater movie marathon on TV that night. Kowalski, Rico, and Skipper had become avid fans of the show by now. After all, it had helped Skipper and Rico bond for the first time. Hence, it means a lot to them. They’re all prepared for the show, as Kowalski is coming in with the popcorn and Skipper is neatly lining up their pillows.

“Shirtless Ninja Action Theater!” The TV exclaims, as the three rush leap onto their pillows.

Suddenly, the channel flips. The buff ninjas on screen have been replaced by a pastel purple unicorn. This isn’t what they signed up for.

“Hey!” Skipper gripes.

“Wha happ’n?” Rico exclaims.

Just then, Private waddles up to the TV. “Oh, do you all like the Lunacorns too?” He cheers excitedly.

“No, we’re supposed to be watching Shirtless Ninja Action Theater!” Skipper stands up accusingly with his flippers on his hips.

“But, the Lunacorns are on tonight. I had it programmed.” Private stammers.

“And who taught you to do that?” Skipper asks. He’s not even sure how to do that.

Kowalski chuckles nervously. They all look at him.

“Look, I’m sure we can come to a compromise. Private, would you mind giving up your show tonight for us to watch TV?” Kowalski asks.

“But Wednesday nights are the only time the Lunacorns are on.” He whimpers.

“Fine,” Skipper sighs, rolling his eyes. “But we get to watch the football game tomorrow night. The Behemoths are playing the Dust Bunnies in Boise.”

“Oh, I like watching football!” Private smiles, sitting down.

Skipper is almost surprised. “You do?” This is one of the first things they agree on.

“Yes! My Gran, Uncle Nigel, and I would watch the World Cup together.” Private smiles, bringing back fond memories.

“Private, I believe that’s soccer you’re referring to.” Kowalski clears his throat.

“No, I’m quite sure it’s called football.” Private is confused. At least that’s what his family had always called it.

“Ugh!” Skipper scoffs. He gets up from his spot on the floor rather quickly. Too irritated to stay put, he begins to waddle back towards his bunk. “I’m hitting the bunk early tonight.”

“Oh, okay.” Private, along with the rest of the team, looks back at Skipper. Had he said or done something to upset Skipper? Maybe Skipper doesn’t like him all that much. The thought of that really upsets Private. After all, Skipper’s the last connection he has to his dad. If Skipper was friends with his dad and Skipper doesn’t like him, what does that mean? Does that mean that his dad wouldn’t like him either if he were still around? Private worries, as his attention is drawn away from the Lunacorns.

As Skipper hops into bed, he can’t help but think about how different Private turned out to be. He’s nothing like his dad at all. The way he acts, the way he speaks - it’s all so different. He must have gotten that all from his mother. Maybe he should have stayed with his Gran and uncle. That seems to be where he belongs. He’s out of place here. Besides, Skipper is already struggling to even tolerate him. What is wrong with him? He loves Private, but why does he feel this way? The child deserves better. Skipper tosses and turns. It’s not Private’s fault. But he can’t help but feel upset. Though he can’t exactly pinpoint exactly how. Disappointed? Maybe. Cheated? That’s a little closer. In Skipper’s mind, Private was supposed to be just like Sam. This was supposed to be his chance to make things right, to continue living a life similar to the one he had had with his brother. But that wasn’t going to happen. Because at the end of the day, Private is Private. He’s not Sam. It was a fair assumption considering how much of a resemblance he shared with him. But at the same time, it wasn’t. Private had been raised by his mother’s side of the family thus far. It was no wonder he acted a lot like her. That didn’t necessarily mean that any of his father’s traits were not there as well. Besides, Skipper had only seen him before when he was a chick. Perhaps, he was being a bit harsh with the boy.

Suddenly Skipper feels guilty for even feeling this way in the first place. Private’s the one who should feel cheated. He lost both of his parents. And Skipper still feels as though he holds some of the blame. If only he had been there. Maybe he could have protected them. But years of “what ifs” had done him no good. Eventually, Skipper wears himself out and drifts off to sleep.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Skippah,” a tiny voice whispers in the darkness.

“Hmm,” Skipper moans, rolling over in his sleep. However, he is more asleep than awake.

“Skippah,” the voice repeats, but it cracks as a clap of thunder interrupts it. Two flippers rush to latch onto one of Skipper’s.

“Huh?” Skipper sits straight up in a startle. He wakes up to see Private standing in front of his bunk. There is fear in the kid’s eyes. He can see it. Something’s not right.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Private shrinks. He hopes Skipper won’t be mad at him for this.

“Private?” Skipper rubs his eyes. He’s less concerned about being awoken now. If there is danger, he needs to know about it. He tries to clear his head enough to handle the situation. It’s as if he had just managed to get a few winks in before being jolted awake. “No, it’s alright, soldier. What’s, uh, what’s wrong?”

That’s when the thunder starts back up. Private’s grip tightens on Skipper flipper. “I can’t sleep.” He whispers to Skipper. Not knowing Skipper all that well, he is a bit embarrassed. However, he somewhat feels the safest with Skipper. Maybe it’s because he was a family friend.

“That’s alright, let’s…,” Skipper doesn’t know what to do. It seems as though this is his first test at raising a chick. He’s racking his brain for options. Now wouldn’t be the time to ask Kowalski. It wouldn’t be right to wake him up too. Plus, this is part of Skipper’s responsibility as a guardian. He offers. “Sit down at the table.”

“Okay,” Private nods quietly. He is hesitant to let go of Skipper. But he must so the older penguin is able to get to his feet. Still, Private follows close behind Skipper.

Once Private is sitting down, Skipper goes immediately for the coffee mug. Not only will this help him to think clearly, but admittedly, it provides a bit of comfort. This is something he’ll never admit to of course. He waddles to the coffee maker to buy him more time. He notices Private’s eyes on him. The kid is practically staring at him, watching his every move. It’s unnerving. His boys had looked to him to be a leader, but now Private is looking to him as a role model. What would Sam do in this situation? What had Sam done when he was little and the older penguin needed to lull him back to sleep?

“You, uh, want some coffee?” Skipper offers. Sure the kid is a little too young to drink coffee. But Skipper doesn’t know what to do. He would feel rude without offering. Plus, it’s a nice way to break the silence.

“No thank you,” Private sits up straight. He is sure to mind his Ps and Qs. In fact, he is hesitant to ask for anything, as he still feels like somewhat of a guest. Despite this, he thinks of what will help him with the storm. What would his Gran do? She would probably make them a kettle of chamomile. Yes, nice, relaxing chamomile. “Do you have chamomile?”

“Camel meal?” Skipper raises a brow. What have they been feeding this kid over in Britain? He’s never heard of a penguin eating camels or camel food. “Nope, this zoo is fresh out of camels. That said, we’ve got no camel chow.”

“Um, no,” Private tilts his head. He’s unsure of what Skipper is talking about. He didn’t want hay. “Chamomile is a tea.”

“Oh,” Skipper straightens up. Yet again, doesn’t he feel foolish? It seems like he doesn’t have any of the right answers here.

Skipper shakes it off. He goes over to the fridge and opens the door. “How about a glass of milk? Or I’m sure Rico wouldn’t notice one of his juice boxes going MIA.” Skipper laughs.

There is no response from Private. Skipper waits a moment, but his nerves get the best of him. When Private doesn’t respond, Skipper decides to go with the juice box. Milk might help the kid sleep, but juice would be a nice treat. That seems more age appropriate than coffee.

“Here ya go, kid.” Skipper places the juice in front of him. Private simply looks at it.

“Skippah,” Private sheepishly says his name. It’s nearly a whisper. His eyes are wide and a little teary.

“Everything ok, soldier?” Skipper takes his seat across from Private.

“I’m sorry for asking you about my dad. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Private shrinks, lowering his head.

“Oh,” Skipper wasn’t expecting that. He sits straight up, as if he has sat on a thorn. How long had Private been worried about that? He didn’t need to apologize for being curious. After all, he had wondered about his own parents many times. If he had someone growing up who knew them, he would have asked them questions too. Perhaps, his response to Private had been a little harsh. “Don’t worry about it, Private.” Skipper forces a smile for the little penguin. The gesture is returned.

Both go back to silence. Skipper takes a swig of his coffee, while Private struggles to get the straw through the juice box. His little flippers go to work jabbing at the top of the box. No matter how much he tries eyeing the hole and aiming for it with his straw, he just can’t seem to get it. After watching Private struggle with it for some time, Skipper extends his flipper. He manages to get the straw in the box on the first try and hands it back to Private. The little penguin thanks him and proceeds to sip on his juice. Skipper goes back to looking down at his coffee mug. His thoughts return to Sam. Sam would probably address the elephant in the room.

“You look a lot like him.” Skipper says.

“I do?” Private perks up a bit.

“Yeah,” Skipper smiles wistfully, looking back up at Private who is now smiling. “And you’ve got your mom’s eyes… and maybe her smile.”

Private smiles and goes back to his juice box. How about that? He never knew he looked so much like his dad. All he knew was that he didn’t look much like his uncle or grandmother. From the pictures of his mom and dad, he could tell that he got his feather pattern from his dad. It’s more like Skipper’s than his mom’s side of the family.

“Do you, uh, miss him a lot?” Skipper clears his throat.

“Oh, um… I think so.” Private is now the one looking away. He doesn’t sound so sure.

“What do you mean?” Skipper is almost offended. Sam loved Private with all his heart. How could he not be one hundred percent sure about missing him?

“It’s just I never really got to know my mum or dad.” Private sighs and pauses. He is struggling to formulate the words. “Whenever my gran or Uncle Nigel talk about them, it’s almost like… - I don’t miss them in the same way.”

Skipper pauses. It makes sense. Though he had never thought about it that way. That feeling is all too similar to Skipper with his own parents. He never got the chance to really get to know either of them. Perhaps, Private’s grief isn’t like his grief of Sam, but more like his grief of never getting to know his parents.

“Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?” Private quivers, with tears in his eyes.

“No.” Skipper immediately places his coffee mug down hard. This causes Private to jump. Maybe Private’s not like his memories of Sam but he’s actually a lot like Skipper’s old self. Then, Skipper softens his tone. “There’s not a thing wrong with you, Private.”

Skipper wants to give Private a hug and tell him just how much his parents loved him. But something inside him won’t let him. Whether it is his pride or fear for revealing too much, Skipper is glued to his seat.

“I guess, I just feel like there’s something missing.” Private wipes his tears and sighs.

That’s when a clap of thunder sends Private rushing to Skipper. So that is why he couldn’t sleep. It’s the storm. Seeking protection, he instinctively wraps his flippers around the older penguin. Skipper can feel the little one shiver in fear, as he hides his head in Skipper’s chest. It appears his decision had been made for him. Skipper brings the younger bird in closer. He is now hugging the little one back, protecting him in his flippers. This is what he is meant to do.

While Private’s practically in Skipper’s lap already, Skipper lifts him up into his flippers. Turns out the kid is a lot heavier than when he was a chick. Skipper grunts as he gets to his feet. Although that does make sense, considering how much Private has grown. He is still rather small in comparison to his older brothers. Skipper paces around with Private a little, before he plans to carry him back to bed. Private holds on tight.

“I don’t like thunder.” Private whimpers. He tries to explain his behavior. “... Or badgers.”

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about the latter.” Skipper chuckles, amused at Private. This kid is kinda funny actually. He’s still as adorable as the day they first met.

“I’m not afraid of ladders.” Private doesn’t understand.

Skipper sighs and tries to rationalize thunder. This sort of thing seemed to work for Kowalski. If he could only be like him and chase the fear away with jibber jabber. “Listen, Private, you’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Thunder just comes from up in the sky somewhere. It’s got something to do with the clouds and lightning - I don’t know. Kowalski can explain it better.” Skipper shrugs.

“Up there?” Private points up at the ceiling, implying the sky. It seems something is resonating with Private here.

“Well, yeah. It’s just something up there making a bunch of noise” Skipper tilts his head. Where did the kid think thunder came from? His tone flattens. “Rather inconsiderate at this time of night.”

“My Gran always said that’s where my parents are.” Private yawns and snuggles closer to Skipper. He feels completely safe with him now. In fact, Skipper makes a good pillow as well. He’s warm and soft. The pause in the thunder gives Private time to settle. He’s nearly falling asleep in Skipper’s flippers.

Skipper swallows hard. The sudden mention of his parents hits Skipper like a blow to the chest.

The next clap of thunder jolts Private awake again.

Skipper takes his strategy in a different direction this time. “Hey, Sam, keep it down up there! Your boy’s trying to sleep.” Skipper shakes a fist jokingly up at the sky.

Private giggles and gets closer, as they laugh together.

“He was a good guy, Private. They both loved you a lot.” Skipper begins to stroke Private’s head as the little one’s eyelids grow heavy.

It isn’t long before Private is fast asleep. Once Skipper is certain this is the case, he gently lays Private back down in his bunk. Hopefully, he had relinquished Private’s fear of thunder. If not that, maybe he had at least calmed him for the night. After all, Private is still a child. These situations are bound to happen. And hey, it looks like he passed the first parenting test.

Looking down at Private, Skipper whispers to himself. “He’s, uh, he’s not coming back, is he?” Skipper sniffles. “Look, Private, I’m sorry for hoping you were someone you’re not. You’re not him; you’re you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I meant what I said back when you were a little hatchling. I love you, kid… no matter how different… or British you are.” Skipper promises in a whisper.

“Dad?” Private, in the midst of a dream, murmurs.

“It’s okay, Private. You’re safe.” Skipper pats Private on the back. He wipes away a couple of tears, before covering Private with a blanket.

At this point, Skipper is too awake to fall back asleep. Instead, his mind is racing. Private said he felt like something was missing. Maybe he didn’t need just a commanding officer. He might need something more. The whole team could benefit from more. From day one of starting this team, Skipper has been committed to giving it one hundred percent of his being. Now, it appears he might have to shift focus. After all, the three of them meant a lot to him. It’s about time that he shows that.

With anticipation, he goes to the storage closet. He’s hoping the one thing he’s looking for is still there. First, he finds Manfredi and Johnson’s things. His flippers rummage through until he finds the old cassette tape. Then, he tip-toes into Kowalski’s lab to give it a listen. This will just be his little secret. He wouldn’t want the boys to think he’s growing soft. With his old voice recorder, he pops in the tape “Danielle’s Guide to Parenting: Baby Penguins”.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“Parenting Tip Number One: Growing penguins need enrichment to foster social skills, instill their imagination, and help them to make sense of the world around them. Try introducing a wide range of toys and activities for the little one to engage in.”

The Penguins stand in the middle of the toy store. Private’s eyes are wide as he looks at the vast row of aisles. Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico stand behind him. It appears Private will have no problem with this mission. Skipper smiles with his flippers on his hips. He doesn’t want Private to be spoiled, so he’s hoping these parenting tips actually have some merit to them.

“This is our mission today, Skipper?” Kowalski asks.

“Correctamundo.” Skipper affirms. Then, placing a flipper on Private’s back, he gets the youngest one’s attention. “Private, you can pick out three toys. No more than three.”

“Aye, aye, Skippah!” Private salutes happily, before skipping off down the closest aisle.

Just then, Kowalski and Skipper find that Rico has wandered off. They find him in front of a display. The doll on display, at least according to the big, glittery pink sign above her, is named Ms. Perky. Rico is absolutely enamored by her. Lost in her beauty, he smiles and does a little bow. Then, like a gentleman, kisses her hand.

“I see you’ve fallen hard and fast, mister.” Skipper summates.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Rico nods, turning to Skipper.

“All right, soldier, you can get a dolly.” Skipper rolls his eyes.

“Woo hoo!” Rico takes the doll straight from the display and carries her in his flippers.

A few days later, it appears that they are in for more than they bargained for. Private pulls out one of the toys he picked out. This one is a board game that requires at least four players. Just enough so that none of them could back out. The game called “Pretty, Pretty Princess” requires each player to add on a princess accessory with each turn, until they have the full set. As you can imagine, this did not go over quite as well with his brothers.

“Your turn, Skippah!” Private cheers. “Ooh! And this time, you get a tiara!”

Skipper mutters under his breath to remind himself why he is doing this. In the meantime, Private coronates him. “Enrichment. This is for social skills.”

It appears Rico’s Ms. Perky is in the lead anyway. He proudly flaunts the plastic necklace, tiara, and bracelet he has earned for her.

Somehow, mysteriously the Pretty, Pretty Princess game got lost… or ended up in the incinerator. But a lovely book about bunnies took its place.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Parenting Tip Number Two: It is important to set firm rules in order to encourage discipline. It is very common for young ones to test limits and push the rules, as they are getting a sense of what they can and cannot do. Sometimes a visual chart for behavior can benefit.”

While Skipper is in the middle of installing a behavior chart, there is a ruckus going on behind him. The chart is massive, rolling down from the ceiling, so it requires concentration for him to put it up by himself. There is a green section to denote good behavior, a yellow section, and a red section to mark probation. In the green section are little figures to represent each of them.

Skipper doesn’t fully take in the skirmish going on behind him. Rico is trying to take a toy that Private is not quite finished with. The larger penguin is trying to give his dolly a big, fluffy bear stuffed animal. But Private was cuddling with it, while watching the Lunacorns. Rico has one end of it, while Private is tugging onto the other.

Unfortunately for Kowalski, he walks out of his lab at just the wrong time. As Rico pulls onto the stuffed bear with all of his might, he inadvertently shoves himself into Kowalski. The taller penguin had been holding a vile of some sort of fluorescent blue serum. Now the glass is shattered and the goo is all over the floor.

Skipper shakes his head and moves Rico’s and Private’s figures to yellow. Bashfully, Rico gets a broom and dust pan.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Parenting Tip Number Three: Social interaction is very important to penguins. As hatchlings spend most of their time in huddles with their peers, it is essential that your little one interacts regularly with others. These activities should be cooperative and teach necessary survival skills.”

Just as he had done many nights with Manfredi and Johnson, Skipper holds a game night with his team. The four of them sit around the table. A gigantic pile of fish is in the middle. With cards stuck to their foreheads, it appears that they are playing Stomp the Wombat. It is one of his old favorites.

Private sits close to Skipper as they play. He shows Private his cards, as he instructs him how to play. He figures it is only fair that he shows Private as this is his first time playing.

“How come Private gets to see your cards?” Kowalski asks.

“Well, he’s never played before.” Skipper whines back in a mocking tone.

Private laughs.

“We haven’t either.” Kowalski whines.

“Boom! Aces!” Skipper slaps down his deck of cards and takes the stack of fish.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Parenting Tip Number Four: Provide positive feedback and encouragement, as your little chick tries new things. However, it is important to balance positivity with a healthy amount of honesty.”

One morning, the Penguins, minus Kowalski, all sit around the table for breakfast. Kowalski then rushes out of the lab to reveal his latest invention. The tall penguin beams with pride. In his flippers, he holds a toaster converted into some sort of contraption. The three other penguins watch in awe. He then turns it sideways and presses the pedal down. Instead of toast, toasted fish shoots out and lands on each plate.

“Ooh!” The team displays their amazement.

“Atta boy, Kowalski!” Skipper applauds.

This inspires a proud smile from the scientist. Just when Kowalski confidently pulls back his creation, there is a sudden BANG from inside. A puff of black smoke is exhaled from the openings. They all suspend their amazement. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Then suddenly, the toaster bursts into flames. Kowalski squeaks and leaps back. In the knick of time, he manages to avoid burning his flippers. Instead of enjoying the success of his latest invention, he is now staring in horror as it lays crumpled in ablaze.

Luckily, Rico steps in with a fire extinguisher. “‘scuse me,” Rico says, spraying the flames in a white foam.

“Well, you did your best…” Skipper pats Kowalski on the back. It isn’t much solace. He offers his honest support with a smile. “Maybe, don’t do that exact same thing again.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Parenting Tip Number Five: Teach your hatchlings a sense of responsibility by starting a regular, chore rotation.”

A few weeks later Kowalski is searching the HQ. Looking around the table and under pillows, he is hunting down something. “Hmm, has anyone seen my lab goggles?” He inquires.

“Can’t say I have,” Private ponders.

“Nuh uh,” Rico shakes his head as well.

“I’ll help you look,” Skipper sighs.

Now that he’s really taking a good look at the HQ. It’s quite the mess. In all of the hustle and bustle of their daily routine, it appears they had let things go to the wayside in terms of cleanliness. It would be hard to find just about anything small in that space. Private’s toys are laying all over the floor. Dishes are piled up in the sink, including his own mug. Even Ms. Perky’s hair hasn’t been brushed in a couple days.

Skipper takes to the bunks first, while Kowalski continues to search around the TV. Going through each bunk, Skipper starts at Rico’s. For the week, Rico has claimed the top bunk. Immediately, Skipper recoils when he reaches the top. A half-eaten fish is the source of the foul odor.

“Uck!” Skipper tosses the fish over his shoulder. No sign of the goggles in Rico’s bunk.

Down to the next bunk, Kowalski’s seems to be in order. His blankets are folded at the foot of the bed. There’s nothing underneath. Certainly no hidden surprises like the one in Rico’s bunk. Still, there is no sign of the goggles.

Lastly, he reaches Private’s bunk. The little penguin had been sleeping closest to the floor. In case he had to get up in the middle of the night, this is the team’s way of preventing any accidents. Skipper knew they hadn’t ended up in his bunk, so he skipped down to Private’s. There’s no indication that the goggles could be there. But when Skipper picks up Private’s pillow to look underneath, he notices all the purple splotches. Upon taking a closer look and sniff, he realizes these are all stains from juice boxes. Skipper’s disgusted.

“Found them!” Kowalski chimes happily. He holds them up for Skipper to see.

Adjacent to him is a heap of textbooks that have been scrambled out all over the table. There are loose papers everywhere. It seems his goggles had gotten buried under the pile.

Looks like it is time to put Parenting Tip #5 in place. Skipper has the team lined up once more. In front of them, he pulls down a large calendar from the wall. Just like he had placed the behavior chart, he has added a calendar. At the start of each week, there is a drawing of a different penguin. With four penguins and four weeks in a month, it makes for the perfect rotation. Everyone can do their share. It’ll teach Private responsibility, distribute the work, and well, clean the place up a little.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Parenting Tip Number Six: You can’t be at your best level of parenting if you are stressed out. Make sure to take time away, if able, and take care of your own needs as well.”

The HQ is abuzz with sound. And that’s putting it lightly. As Private sits in front of the TV, the Lunacorns are blaring their happy, sappy nonsense. Not just that but Rico is rocking out to some heavy metal at the other end of the room. He bops his head and taps his feet, as he delicately brushes through his dolly’s hair. At one point, he even begins screaming out the lyrics in his scratchy voice. Over both of these sounds, Skipper can hear the buzzing, hammering, and revving sounds coming from the lab. All he wanted to do was enjoy his morning coffee in peace. Now it appears the sound is all too much for him.

Instead of reaching for earmuffs, he decides to pick a different solution. He goes to the supply closet and drags out a yellow chair with white stripes. And with his finest pair of sunglasses, he heads up to the deck. There’s nothing wrong with a little self-care, right? And sunlight and fresh air is good for the system. Sunbathing soon becomes Skipper’s happy place. Ooh! Maybe he can even take a little nap while he’s out there. He muses to himself.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the time Skipper waddles back in, the lair is a much more peaceful place. Climbing down the rungs, he can already hear them. But it’s not the cacophony of noises he had heard previously. He slowly creeps down the ladder, so as not to disturb them. He likes what he’s hearing. It’s a warm, friendly conversation. Even though he’s not a part of it, listening in just makes him feel at home. Whether he’d own up to the sentimentality or not, he’s pleased to hear them all getting along. After making it down the ladder, he stands in the corner and observes.

“But I actually have been to the US before,” Private continues.

“Really? Where to?” Kowalski infers with interest.

“Texas. My uncle took me there for a mini -” Private giggles, stopping himself from saying too much. He has his secrets too. “nevermind.”

“Yee haw!” Rico shouts.

Kowalski and Private begin to laugh, as Rico joins in. This is when they realize Skipper has re-entered the habitat.

“Oh, there you are, Skipper.” Kowalski finishes laughing.

“We were beginning to wonder where you’d gone.” Private looks with some concern in his eyes.

“No need to worry, boys. I was just out catching some rays.” Skipper puts his chair back.

“Skipper, can you believe that Private’s never gone fishing before?” Kowalski asks, sounding dumbfounded.

“You haven’t?” Skipper stops and turns. He hadn’t even thought about that. The boy needs to learn how to fish if he’s going to be a proper penguin.

“Well, no.” Private is surprised that everyone is so befuddled. He looks around to see his brothers staring at him. Back at his old zoo, he and his Gran would just eat the fish that they were given. There was really no point in going outside of the zoo for food. It was already given to them. The same logic really applies here at the Central Park Zoo. But perhaps this was another gap in his common, penguin knowledge. Private shrugs. “I didn’t have anyone to teach me.”

This is where that missing piece became very apparent. When Skipper was young, he had Sam to teach him how to fish. Certainly Kowalski and Rico had been taught by their parents at some point. Private feels a disconnect from his species and this is another reason why. Skipper’s heart aches momentarily. This is another thing that Sam would never get to experience - teaching his son how to fish. But a sense of obligation ushers away the guilt. Here is where he can help Private to fill in that missing feeling inside of him. The little one needs someone to show him the ins and outs of being a penguin. Skipper knows what he needs to do.

“All right, boys, looks like we’re going fishing.” Skipper claps his flippers together.

The team erupts into cheers. Private’s even excited, perhaps the most elated. Though he has no idea what fishing will be like, he is eager to experience it with his new family. Rico is two steps ahead, as he upchucks a fishing rod.

Private tilts his head, inspecting the large rod. He had seen them before. But he has no idea how to use one. With all the strings and gears, it looks a little complicated. This definitely isn’t the way penguins fish in the wild. Either way, he’ll take it. Plus, it’s an opportunity to bond with them.

“Skippah, will you teach me?” Private approaches Skipper and asks him directly. He thinks maybe if Skipper teaches him, it’ll be like his dad is doing it.

“Can do, Young Private,” Skipper lightly ruffles the feathers on Private’s head. He tries not to get too sappy. But the kid is adorable and he is honored by the request.

“Maybe we can even bring our lunch and have a picnic by the pond!” Kowalski suggests.

Skipper smiles. Instantly he is brought back to all the days he and Sam would go fishing and eat their lunch by the water. It had become a tradition for the two of them. Now it looks like he’ll get to pass that along to his boys. Growing up, he didn’t have much of a family. It was Sam and him all alone on that frozen tundra. But it was more than enough. Now, he’ll be able to ensure that Private grows up with a family. Besides, it will be a good break for his team.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next morning, the team goes out to the park with their picnic basket. By starting at sunrise, it will ensure they’ll have plenty of time to catch enough fish for a hearty lunch. As they leave the zoo gates, Private takes hold of Skipper’s flipper. Whenever he would leave the zoo back home, his Gran or uncle would want him to hold onto their flipper. Being little, he didn’t think much of it. Clearly, this was a reflection of their past horrors with the outside world. They wanted to keep Private as close to them as possible, especially since he was so young. Hence, when Private grabs onto Skipper’s flipper, the older of the two is the only one to notice. He doesn’t mind though, the boy is still small. When he’s older, he’s going to need to gain more independence. But perhaps, this small instance of coddling was tolerable. Still, he takes note of how much Private must trust him. Even after everything, this little guy trusts him. Skipper vows to ensure that this faith in him is merited.

Once they reach the pond, it takes the team a little bit of time to set up. They have to line their rods with fishing line, tie their hooks on, and bait the hooks. Private is still a bit too squeamish to watch them bait with the worms. For that reason, he looks away from Skipper’s demonstration. That’s when his attention is drawn away from the team. He begins to wander off.

“And that, Young Private, is how you bait a hook.” Skipper turns back proudly. Now he’ll let Private have a chance to set up his own rod. This is going quite smoothly thus far. Just as he thinks this, he notices that Private is missing from his side.

His eyes widen and his beak drops. “Private?” He shifts into a sudden panic. “Private!” He repeats louder, looking all around him. Oh no, something’s happened to Private! How could Private have disappeared? He only had his back turned for a second. Skipper doesn’t know what to do. What if something grabbed him? Like a large bird or a stray dog? How could he let this happen?

Kowalski shakes his head, with a smirk and sighs. “He’s over there, Skipper. Looks like he’s made some new friends.”

Skipper immediately looks in the direction Kowalski is referring to. When he sees Private, it’s as if he is able to breathe again. Apparently Kowalski didn’t appear to be nearly as concerned. Skipper then looks to Rico, who is now casting his rod. It’s as if they’re all watching different situations. That’s when Skipper takes a deep breath. Perhaps, he is overreacting a little. Seems like taking Private out in the park has him on edge. This is something he will get used to and his anxiety will die down over time. Remembering what happened to Private’s parents in the park must have put him on edge. Skipper feels a little foolish for his reaction, but keeps a close eye on Private. Since he is young, he is more vulnerable than the rest of them. He watches Private and listens in but gives him his space.

Standing a few feet away at the base of a tree, Private is talking to a young squirrel and opossum. The forest creatures seem completely mesmerized by Private.

“What are you?” The opossum asks, with his mouth open. He points at Private.

“Don’t be rude!” The squirrel scolds her friend. She slaps him on the wrist.

“Hey!” The opossum rubs his sore paw. “I’m not! I just haven’t seen anything like him.” The opossum defends himself.

“I’m a penguin!” Private beams politely, flapping his wings.

“A penguin?” The squirrel repeats. She’s never heard of one of those.

“Yes, I’m a bird, I swim, and I live in the zoo!” Private explains happily. It appears he’s rather happy to be a penguin. He is happy to be himself.

“Oh, okay. Are those penguins too?” The opossum asks, pointing at the other three. Skipper is still watching.

Realizing he’s been spotted, Skipper nonchalantly turns his head away for a second. Then, he proceeds to cast his own rod. He still keeps Private in the corner of his eye.

“Yes,” Private chuckles. What is Skipper doing? He’s so silly.

“Is that your dad?” The squirrel asks, referring to Skipper.

“No, that’s my Skippah.” Private giggles. He corrects the squirrel as if having a Skipper is as normal as having a dad or uncle.

That’s right. He’s his Skipper, their Skipper. That’s who he is now and, maybe, who he was meant to be all along. That’s what he is to them. He’s their commanding officer, but also Kowalski’s and Rico’s brother and Private’s guardian and role model. And in this new role, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. Skipper, still listening in, feels tears trying to invade his eyes. He sniffs them down. A surge of joy rushes up in his chest as he hears this. He’s come so far and seen so much in his life. There were many times he wanted to quit or give up. But now look where he is. It’s not the life he imagined for himself. In fact, it’s much better. He’s loved. Finally, he has a family, yet he’s still able to live his dreams. This is far better than any successful cons or any honor a secret agent organization could bestow upon him. He’s their Skipper.

“Huh?” The opossum doesn’t understand. He doesn’t even know what a Skipper is. But maybe he’s not meant to get it. It’s a penguin thing.

“C’mon, Private!” Skipper calls.

Private happily skips over to him and takes his flipper again. In his burst of energy, he swings Skipper’s flipper a bit.

“Don’t wander off like that, soldier.” Skipper instructs. “Remember the penguin credo.”

“What’s that, Skippah?” Private has never heard of such a thing.

“It means never swim alone.” Skipper wraps his flipper around Private as they waddle back to the group.

As they head back to the others, Kowalski reels in a monster of a fish. It looks like this fishing trip is off to a good start. Certainly, it will be the first of many fishing trips the team takes together. Skipper can hardly wait for all of the missions and memories he will make with his new family. The future is ahead of them and infinitely bright. As long as he has the three of them by his side, he knows he’ll never be alone again. This is only the beginning of his new life. And so far, he really likes the looks of it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Many years later, Private is standing in one of the secluded rooms of the HQ. Much older now, he is holding onto Skipper’s old voice recorder. It feels strange for him to be holding it in his flippers. After all, it is Skipper’s. The penguin leader had always been so secretive about his personal possessions. It almost feels wrong for him to be doing this. Private sighs and hits “play”.

“Skipper’s log: Young Private, if you are listening to this tape, that must mean that I, your commanding officer, have well… bit the dirt. As it has come to pass, I am now six feet under,”

Private cringes. Why did Skipper have to say that? He doesn’t want to think of him like that. But that’s Skipper for you.

“This means that I am entrusting you with this classified information. You will now have full access to these files. This series of log entries encapsulates my entire life story. Since you asked about my past so relentlessly, maybe now you’ll finally get the answers you’ve been waiting for.”

Private gasps, with eyes wide. Could it be? The answers to all of his questions are now right in his flippers. He’ll finally know all about Skipper’s past. Now, he’ll be able to finally learn what happened in Denmark.

“And now, as a precautionary measure, I’m going to pause.” Skipper’s recorded voice continues.

Private looks around confused. “What?”

“This should give me enough time to bust in and catch you listening to this, pre- my-mortem.” Skipper remarks. He knew the youngest member of the team couldn’t resist listening to his logs.

“Private!” Skipper shouts from outside of the room. He’s still very much alive. Turns out, that extra layer of security on his logs came in handy. “What are you doing in there?” It sounds more like a demand than a question.

“Nothing, Skippah!” Private quickly drops the recorder and runs into the other room.

He scampers right past Skipper. The older penguin, with his coffee mug in flipper, enters the room. Seeing his voice recorder on the floor, he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Reminiscing he looks down at his mug and smiles, before picking the audio recorder and walking away. It’s time to get back to work.

[The End]