Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry about the long wait between chapters. I injured my hand and was unable to type for a very long time and after that I could not stand typing for more than a few minutes at a time because it still hurt. So, a big THANK YOU to the people who showed appreciation for this story while I was unable to write. Hope it was worth the wait.

Four pairs of eyes stared at the expanse of space before them. The endless, but too dark to truly appreciate that fact, universe, spread out before them, inviting yet less teatime friendly than they would have preferred. "So, should I come up with some options?" Kowalski asked, uncertainty evident in his slightly hesitant tone of voice. Skipper stared at him for a moment over the rim of his teacup before his brow furrowed and he shot back, sarcastically, "I don't know, should you?" Kowalski hastily started scribbling and continued for a whole minute until he realised that he was drawing a picture of a moose, a space monster and a racoon having a light saber battle atop the bodies of his decapitated enemies. He clumsily hid the drawing behind his back, but of course Rico had seen it and nicked it right from behind the scientist's back.

"Rico, you hand that back this instance! That is a very important hypothesised scenario of mine that I will need to file so I can use it for future reference!" Kowalski bellowed as he mounted Private's head in order to launch an aerial attack on Rico. The two continued to merrily chase each other around the small bridge, much to the hidden amusement of Skipper and Private, as long as none of them were used as ramps. All the joy however left the small ship when Kowalski sent Rico flying into the pilot's seat with a spin kick. Rico landed in the empty seat, raised the stick in his hand (1), and froze on the spot when Skipper's piercing glare made contact with his own bloodshot eyes.

"Rico," their leader said, his voice as hard as Antarctic ice, but only half as cold, "would you kindly explain to me..." he paused for dramatic effect, or possibly because he was trying to stop himself from hitting the other penguin over the head with that stick that just appeared with no explanation. Then he took a deep breath and yelled, in a voice that made Rico feel half as big as he actually was, "who's been steering the ship while you've been dancing around with your little playmate?" He took a calming breath, as if he were about to allow Rico time enough to defend himself, only to continue, "You get back to your post right now soldier!" Rico immediately sat down, stick at his side. "We could have hit something! And you would have been solely responsible for our demise! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Now, even Rico knew that the risk of collision in space is rather small. There are no telephone poles, moose or other wildlife around, and the risk of hitting another ship is, to put it mildly, minimal. So, not only Rico, but his two other colleagues as well, knew that Skipper might be a bit paranoid and possibly overworked. The fact that he had not slept for more than 24 hours did not improve his mental state. Kowalski soundlessly readied his tranquiliserdarts for use while he cowered behind Private; Just in case he missed and Skipper started looking for a culprit. Skipper, unaware of the imminent mutiny, waddled a few steps closer to Rico, giving him the evil eye every time Rico dared to look anywhere but the emptiness of space stretched out before him in all its majesty. He took a deep breath, presumably to calm himself down. Everyone half expected him to simply let the matter slide for now, but then their leader instead said, now more disappointed than angry, "and where were you even taking us before you decided to steal from our nerd?" Kowalski grumbled when Skipper called him a nerd. He was a scientist, damn it. And he was the sole master of his own self, except for those times when his mind control experiments backfired. But those were mishaps in the name of science. After all, to a scientist the whole world is one big lab and everybody else is a test subject. He decided to write a brilliant essay on the plight of scientists and why the whole galaxy should fear them, but only after his current experiment had ended and when Skipper had had a nap. Or three.

Rico never got round to answering Skipper, the zwiip of a tranquiliser dart cut him off as it planted itself in Skipper's shoulder. The pilot was understandably less than thrilled, his rough sigh communicated that perfectly, and Private sent Kowalski a reprimanding glare as he accusingly crossed his flippers. Kowalski decided to just refrain from defending his actions. Rico still had a stick and his aim was pretty good.

The awkward turtle swam in the waters of silence, but to Skipper it felt more like the world had been smothered in lavender scented tissue paper. (2) As Skipper regained the use of his senses one by one his brain was working overtime, trying to remember what had happened, ascertain what was going on right now, and what he should be doing in a moment when he found out whether he still had a left foot. When he perhaps, quite possibly, remembered that he had perhaps gotten a little exhausted and that he was surrounded by his very well behaved team it came naturally to him to simply decided that he should ask a question which he somehow wanted the answer to right now. Or possibly a few minutes ago. If he had not slept longer. He could not remember that thing you measured long time with, but decided that it would probably return to him shortly. "Where are you taking us, Rico?" He asked out loud. Three heads whipped around to look at their now (mostly) conscious leader. Rico, who had found that the stick was a gentlemanly co-pilot, gave Skipper an uplifting grunt and produced a book from his newly reorganised and improved insides. Private decided to make himself useful and dragged himself out of his sombre almost slumber. He waddled towards Rico, passed Skipper with a nervous glance, and reached up to receive the book from their pilot, only to have it fall on him with a slight bounce. The smallest penguin managed to get himself out from under the book, denied that he was getting too chubby, and realised that it was a book identical to Ford's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Skipper appeared to be frighteningly gleeful at the sight of the book. And, expectantly gleeful like a child who had been promised a pizza with a side of grenades, he asked Rico, "did you steal it?" His flippers flapped enthusiastically and he nearly sent the pilot an approving wink, but Rico's response in the shape of a "Neeh" put a damper on him. Private was quite uncomprehending of why that seemed to displease their leader. "Stealing is wrong," he said. The Private might as well have stated that Antarctica is moderately chilly. Kowalski beat Skipper to it and gave him an imaginary smack on the head. "The Penguin Operations Ground Rules state that you must ALWAYS steal while in enemy territory, du-uh," skipper all but groaned matter of factly. Private secretly thought that he sounded like a teenage girl. He kept that to himself. "That doesn't seem nice... I mean, isn't that a bit excessive?" Private tried, but was once again met with slightly disappointed forehead wrinkles all around him. He admitted his defeat, unaware of the fact that Kowalski had just removed a point from his latest aptitude test due to his obvious lack of knowledge of the essential and sacred Penguin Operations Ground Rules. Not that it mattered, since the aptitude test had been scribbled on a piece of paper placed in a folder, in their HQ, in the zoo, New York, Earth. (3) Skipper ignored the Private in favour of making the cocpit feel more competent over all, and asked Rico the question that enevitably came to mind: "Anyhow, so, where'd you get it, and why are you acting like it's the smoked salmon of our dreams?" (4) Skipper asked, getting just a smidgeon tired of questions. Rico launched into an animated explanation with a lot of gesturing and a cup of lemonade involved. As he finished Skipper clapped his flippers together with satisfaction and Private was nearly teary eyed. Kowalski had stopped scribbling, his pencil hanging limply from the corner of his beak where it had been left in thoughtful contemplation and promptly been forgotten. Kowalski was however not too thrilled about having lost his train of thoughts in favour of listening to Rico, and flatly stated, "Well, that just leaves the question: Why are you acting like its the answer to all our prayers," and continued under his breath, "not that any of us actually believe in something as far fetched as a god..." Rico promptly, with the nonchalance of a Victorian gentleman, opened the book, leafed through a few of its interactive pages, and clicked a button. The book's electronic voice flooded the cockpit, in all its asthmatic cricket-like glory: "Popular vacation destinations near beaches, oceans and imaginary beaches. Coordinates ready for transfer, press magenta button to the left or press urple button below to cancel." (5) Rico triumphantly pressed the urple button as he explained that he had already completed the transfer and set their course for the first of those destinations listed (since the dolphins clearly would want to relax at a nice beach party after having annihilated Earth). He had put his brain cells to work, done it all on his own initiative, all in the name of finding those blasted Dolphins. (6) And there was much rejoice in the cockpit after that revelation.

The rejoicing might have gotten a little out of hand, as Private decided to hug Rico in order to demonstrate how sincere his words of praise were. As Private burst out, "You really are much more intelligent and independent than we ever give you credit for," Rico responded to the overly adorable hug by hurling. Unfortunately this backfired for him, as he accidentally spit up a Cuddly Critters colouring book form the Zoovenir Shop. Private hugged him again. Kowalski shot him with a tranquiliser dart. It would not do to have their pilot throw up a lit bomb by accident. Private only had time to regret not finishing the hug before he was gone, fast asleep atop the colouring book.

()()()()

Kowalski decided, all by his lonesome, that tranquiliser darts were going to be his new best friends on the endlessly long and potentially maddening roadless space trips. After ensuring that Rico had engaged the auto pilot Skipper even ordered Kowalski to shoot Rico. Just to be on the safe side. The pilot had after all tried to eat his own foot while swearing at the top of his lungs, all out of boredom. Being all alone with the increasingly frustrated, bored and paranoid Skipper proved too much of a challenge for the genius and he turned the darts on himself with a defeated yet hopeful sigh. Skipper spent the next few hours being paranoid all by his lonesome. As one would imagine this did nothing to improve his mood. The much needed yet inadequately appreciated naptime came to a sudden end when the radio flared to life. Private was the first one to wake up when a message blared at him from pretty much all perceivable directions. The former owner of the ship had clearly not wanted to miss anything on the radio and so had put up speakers anywhere they fit. And a few places they did not fit, which resulted in one speaker dropping down onto Rico's head, only to be cut in half by his sushi knife. Apparently the tranquilisers did nothing to blunt Rico's sharp reflexes. Once the blaring and mostly indecipherable message had finished a jingle played. This finally made Kowalski stir, and together with Rico he started pressing various buttons around the cockpit in the hope that one of them would turn down the volume of the radio. Someone must have done something right, for the second time the message started blasting through the speakers it was at a level that allowed the penguins to actually focus on the words. "Greetings. It has come to our attention that there are large amounts of penguin DNA aboard your ship and that these penguins are most likely still alive. Penguins are classified as extinct in our databanks and if you are found smuggling live members of this species you will be given a medal of special services to wildlife preservation and then executed for your crimes. If you surrender you will be buried with honours. This has been a service announcement from the Society for Preservation of Possibly Palatable or Plain Tasty Poultry and other Wildlife. Have a nice day." The catchy jingle played again.

()()()()

(1) You are probably thinking: "Hey that stick just appeared out of nowhere, didn't it?" And you would be wrong. You should know by now that the great and not at all cannibalistic people of Nowhere are unknowingly on Kowalski's side.

(2) Unbeknownst to any of the penguins their ship had just passed through a pocket of blank space, where a race of quite frankly amateurish aliens had set up a recharge station. Their ships used to be powered by blank verse poetry, but as soon as they made contact with other sentient races they instantly retreated back to their home planet indefinitely because they could not handle the less than rollicking reviews. A few phrases, symbols and metaphors sometimes still escape the defunct stations, much to the chagrin of most intelligent life forms in the galaxy.

(3) No, that piece of paper had not miraculously survived the destruction of the planet Earth. That would just have been silly.

(4) Not to be confused with the Smoked Salmon of the planet Doubt, a fish said to have gone extinct for unknown reasons.

(5) One might think that there was a mistake in the book's programming. However, urple is a real colour, or as real as magenta, a colour strikingly similar to urple in every way, except urple is banned in a half a dozen star systems. One of the reasons for this ban is that the downfall of the mighty Appolynoiyan Empire came swiftly and with an extreme lack of style at the hands of the Azgoths of Kria during their short obsession with painting their ships in colours expressing the inner turmoil of the ink they use to pen their poetry.

(6) Another ugly side of urple is that it can leave the visible spectrum in order to infect already terrible poetry. Some rumors even go around of urple infecting prose, but those curiously died down after the Earth had been demolished. And there was much rejoice.

A/N: So, I gotta be honest, this chapter wasn't worth the wait. This is just a transition chapter with only a little development of the hidden subplots to redeem itself. But at least we'll soon reach the extremely long finale. Soon as in we're more than halfway.