Penguins of Madagascar: Memories
Author's Words: Hello. This is my first published fanfiction I will share with the world, mainly the fans of Penguins of Madagascar (or fanguins). This story is mostly based off of the TV series universe. With the recent movie that can give speculation on how the movie universe and Tv universe can be connected, there might be some reminiscence thoughts of the movie within my story.
At first glance, one may think this story similar to the video game: Metal Gear Solid, directed by Hideo Kojima. I did indeed take inspiration from the Metal Gear series, but also from many other sources of entertainment culture. This was at first supposed to be a silly fanfiction with Metal Gear elements, but it turned to be much more and have its own original elements/themes to contribute. Either way, it's up to the reader how they want to interpret it as: silly, serious, or a combination of both.
At the beginning of chapters, there will be a quote or small message by me that may pertain to some theme within the story. All quotes used are owned by their rightful owners, which in this chapter is owned by director Mamoru Oshii and Production IG, the creators of the Ghost in the Shell movie from 1995. The Penguins of Madagascar and it's characters are rightfully owned by Dreamworks and/or Nickelodeon. I only own this fanfiction that depicts a new situation for Skipper and his team to go on, with a darker tone to it than the TV series or movie had done.
The story may get intense with swearing and gore, so reader discretion is advised.
I thank you if you read this intro, and hopefully you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.
-Chapter 1: Passing Thoughts-
"I guess once you start doubting, there's no end to it." –Batou (Ghost In the Shell, 1995)
The sea passed by him with sliding images over long, relaxing intervals of time. Creatures in the vast and infinite sea were ones to display innocence as they swam as life took them so. Being an animal like them, he understood and envied their display of innocence to many issues of the world. His ears couldn't hear a definite sound to the animals or the velocity of the water zipping by the exterior of his under-sea transport vehicle. Only a mass of whirring sounds were intercepted. His thoughts, within his mass of a conscious mind, was occupied with his mission. An evaluation on what he had come to an agreement on, his life on the line, had him thinking about it all again.
"Your team has been specifically accepted, due to our satellites peering in from all over the world. In partnership with AUSO (Animals of United States Organization), we have come to a conclusion. Your team's trickery of humans to believing their false demoralization of animals being nothing but mere beasts has proved to be acceptable within AUSO standards. Very acceptable at that due to your unawareness of that guideline's existence." One high-council animal spoke.
"I'm thankful of that remark. But anyway, you want us to go on some sort of tactical espionage mission to Antarctica due to a disturbance there?" The penguin, Skipper, had asked.
"Yes, and no. You warm-climate penguins will be suitable for such a mission, and with the help of our PMC, The Right Reich, you could be the ones to put a successful stop to the animal terrorists there at the moment. All we know right now of their goals is that they plan to launch a nuclear missile, but it is unknown where or why." Another high-council member replied to the penguin. "Kowalski will stay put at the ship that resides 50 miles away, the SOS Cogito, and act as a technical analysis team-member there for radio-communications support for the three that will infiltrate the base. His IQ as an animal will be of great help to you in that position, replacing our currently-sick analyst. Do you agree to that position, Kowalski?"
The taller penguin had been in thought since his position was offered. Consideration on whether he was worthy enough for such a position had occupied his mind.
"Its okay, Kowalski. The three of us can infiltrate that base with minor injuries spared." Skipper reassured him.
Kowalski's head stared up to the high-council animals, and nodded. "I'll do my best as part of the technical-analysis team."
"Good. Your crew will be limited by a geographical analyst and a weapons analyst for the time being. The risk of their signaling-location being found is too great if we allow more communication from within the SOS Cogito. In return, you are to give the utmost respect to them and take their words to analytic consideration when need be."
Skipper thought for a moment, wondering about the fragments of the whole set-up of the operation. "But who is the pure leader of this mission?"
"There will be no absolute leader, but one who can lead your penguins is something for you to decide, Skipper." The animal replied to him.
To him, it was a strange thought to have to decide whether he'd be a real leader for the mission. The validity of this type of operation felt more-so obscure and serious than anything they've ever faced, even compared against Blowhole or Hans.
"I can do it."
A smile from the animal's muzzle grew visible to Skipper. "I had thought so. Now, you three will be placed through three access points of the facility, dubbed Thinking-Molasses. It's supposed to be a private facility for wild animal-testing in many realms of science. Within it, there is an under-water duct leading to the docking bay of the eastern part of the facility, which is your recommended route, Skipper. The underground chamber leading toward the central industrial sector of the facility is where Private is designated to go on. Lastly, an air-vent leading toward the jungle sector, the western region, will be infiltrated from above by Rico. You leave at 0200 hours tomorrow. Until then, you're free to reside within the assigned dorms and food court of our facility."
Kowalski stepped forward, asking, "What are they going to be armed with, sir?"
"A specialized tranquilizer gun with modifications to fit your flippers more comfortably. The darts are filled with sedatives, so don't get too zealous over your power. It is a stealth-based mission after all. Skipper is the exception, who will be able to get an MK-23 at the start, also modified to fit penguin flippers more comfortably. You'll also be wearing a thermo-suit that can adjust to your normal body temperatures, whether it be cold or hot. A utility belt will also be given with a standard layout of weaponry and items to choose from."
A quick smile ran across Skipper's beak. "I doubt Rico will need that."
"Really?" The candid mammal turned to converse quickly with the other animals at the high-council table, sizes created for each specific animal's mass. The mammal then looked back to the penguins, replying, "Sometimes a stomach isn't the best option for fast-access. Out there, in the zone of danger, you'll need every millisecond you can get."
A consented nod from skipper had agreed to that notion in contrast with a disappointed moan from Rico, who got a pat on the back from Kowalski.
"Don't let it get down on you, Rico. We'll most likely need your gut for other tactical weaponry a belt could never hold." Skipper reassured him with a glance over to Rico's face that regained happiness.
"Aw righ'!" Rico replied in a light-hearted tone.
The mammal spoke up, catching all the penguins' attentions once again. "Now, is there any questions or objections to this operation?"
No penguin raised a flipper or looked doubtful. A whimper of a half-started question came from Private, who quickly tried to regain his stoic external stature.
"Good, may operation Les Mémoires start soon, then."
Those were Skipper's important memories of only a couple of hours ago. Afterwards, his team seemed to just eat and converse with one another until they went to bed early, and then got up at 1:30am to ready up for the mission. The stranger memory was of Private who continued to be stern in his stature and emotion. Yet, he was seemingly uncomfortable since then. It made him proud for the attempt to act fearless, but being that it was Private who forced himself to act that way, it worried him as well. He could only hope Private can hold himself up on the field of danger, and that his words will give comfort for whenever stress overtook him.
"Private…I want you to know that on the field, there's-"
The thoughts were shaken off as he heard a rupture on the exterior of his pod. It had soon detached and allowed the oceanic water flow all around him. It was an icy-touch for the moment until he shot off swimming into the direction of mechanical infrastructure, into a small pipe that gave small resistance opposite to him as he swam in. As he came out, he could see ahead, an underwater infrastructure of the docking bay. He swam his body up toward the surface of the water, seeing most of the layout of the bay over water. After enough examination, he sunk down to a reasonable depth, then shot back up to soar out of the water and into the indigenous atmosphere of Thinking Molasses. After his soar through the air, he landed directly onto his feet with a twinge of the impact. The pain receded, and looked up from the cemented ground.
"Better not have kept them waiting." He said with a growing smile over his beak.