Penguin Underground

Disclaimer: I don't own Penguins of Madagascar

A/N: mild Skivate

Chapter One

She ran, hard and fast, until she found something level that she could slide on. They were closing fast, but she maintained a steady lead. It wouldn't last forever, but it was enough, for now.

Up ahead, she could see a pair of gates with a brick arch over them. It was her last hope. The penguins behind her had gained more than she thought, so she banked hard, slipping through two of the iron bars of the gate at an angle. As soon as she was a safe distance away, she slowed and got to her feet. A swath of black and white only about a foot tall met her eyes as she studied the gate.

She turned away and slid down the cobblestone walkway on her belly, listening for anything she could recognize as penguin. When she found what she was looking for, she stopped and studied what was before her for a moment before hopping onto the trashcan and springboarding off of that over the wall and into the water.

She tapped on the nearest glass window she found, attracting the attention of the four penguins who were playing some form of card game on the floor in the center of the underwater chamber. A flatheaded penguin leapt to his feet and gestured for her to go up, so she did. The penguin popped up out from under a food dish and stuck his head over the edge of the concrete circle. "Who are you and how'd you find this place?"

"I'm a runaway seeking refuge," she said. "I found this place because I was looking, looking for fellow penguins."

"No, seriously, whaddaya want?"

"I need to be careful. I'm sure they found a way to break through the gates by now. I just need to hide here for a little while and then find a way to get out without anyone noticing I was anywhere."

The penguin glanced up at the edge of the habitat, and for a moment, she thought he noticed exactly what she was afraid of, but then he said, "Get up here." She launched herself out of the water and landed almost seamlessly on the top of the concrete rectangle. "What's your name?"

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is that I'm on the run and that I'm becoming desperate."

"Just how desperate?" The male penguin folded his flippers across his chest, and she glanced over the top of the brick wall at the gates, where the vast penguin mob was dissipating.

"They know I've escaped. I can't get anywhere yet, and this is my only option."

"It doesn't look too bad from where I'm stand."

"You don't understand. They'll come back, better, faster, stronger than before. That's how it works, that's how it always works."

"You know them?"

"Whadda you think?"

He narrowed her eyes at her, and the three other penguins hopped through the hole under the food dish. One with a light British accent asked, "Who's she?"

"What'd you say your name was?" the lead penguin asked, narrowing his eyes at the female penguin.

"I didn't," she replied. "All I said was I'm a refugee."

The tall penguin took out a crayon and notepad from God-knows-where and gave her a glance before taking a few notes. He looked at her some more and then took a few more notes. "Are you a transfer?" the tall penguin asked.

"No."

He wrote this down and studied her some more.

The penguin with the mohawk grunted something, and the tall one nodded in ascent as if he understood what the technically mute one said. She looked from the tall and mute penguins to the short one with the British accent. She felt a smile tug at her beak, and then the flatheaded one got her attention again. "Where're you from?" he asked.

"Outside."

"Outside where?"

"I can't give you the location of their base, but it is close. I got here within an hour."

"Kowalski, options."

The tall penguin looked over his notes and produced an abacus from apparently the same place he'd produced the notepad and crayon. He made a few calculations and said, "The base is within a few miles of where we're standing right now. We could get there tonight if we left right now."

"We know too little," the flathead replied. "We need more options."

"Uh, wait for them to come back?" Kowlaski asked, uncertainly.

"Skippa," the British penguin began, "is that...is that safe?"

"You've got nothing to worry about, Private. You know we're secure here."

"I know that, Skippa, but what about for her?"

"Girly's fine here."

She struck him at the base of his head, on the side closest to her, and he collapsed face first on top of the concrete roof. The other three penguins stared at her in astonishment.

"When he wakes up, I'll tell him she can take care of herself," Kowalski said. He and the penguin with the mohawk slipped under the food dish with their leader's body and disappeared from sight, leaving her with Private.

"I'd really like to know your name," he said weakly. "I'm Private." He held his flipper out to her. "You met our leader, Skipper, and Kowalksi, the genius, and the one with the mohawk and scar is Rico."

She shook his flipper and said. "Aeon."

"Excuse me?"

"That's my name. Aeon."

"I haven't heard of anyone with that name before. It's really interesting."

"You think so?"

"Of course." Aeon glanced around again, prompting Private to ask, "What are you looking for?"

"Nothing. Just making sure they haven't come yet."

"Making sure who's not coming?"

Aeon was about to answer, but Kowalski's head popped up from under the food dish, and he said, "You two better come inside."

POM

Skipper's eyes fluttered open and he got to his feet. Private and the girl were standing against the wall, facing him. Kowalski and Rico were almost opposite each other in the space between their leader and the two others. "Fish and chips, man. What's going on here?" he asked.

"I just don't like being called girly," the girl replied. "My name's Aeon."

"Aeon? Never heard of that one before."

"That's what I said," Private added, but a sharp look from Skipper made sure nothing else fell out of his beak.

Skipper redirected his attention toward Aeon. "So why didn't you tell us this before?"

"They were watching."

"They? Who's they?" Kowalski asked.

"They. Them, the ones who're always trying to get us," Skipper replied. "Haven't you been paying attention, man?"

"It just seems to me that 'They' are a paranoid delusion."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you," Aeon said. "And in my case, they are. I can't say a whole lot, but they are based close by."

"Can we find them?" Private asked. "I mean, can we really do it?"

"We can, it's just...complicated."

"Complicated how?" Skipper asked, folding his flippers across his chest and narrowing his eyes at Aeon.

"Their base is heavily guarded, lined with gunpowder and God knows how many triggers for it. If getting out is risky, then going in is almost impossible."

"Good. We live for impossible."