Private tumbled over, his skin tingling where Rico's beak had tapped him. Rico stood over him, his blue eyes intense as he leaned over and offered his flipper. Private took it and pulled himself to his feet, stretching then shaking out his feathers. Rico's gaze was approving.

"Again," Private said.

"You sure?"

Private snapped his beak, narrowing his dark eyes and pawing the ground. "Yes."

Rico's eyes gleamed again, and he got back into position. He let out a churring noise, and Private dipped his head slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on his teacher. They stared at each other, unmoving for almost a minute, then Private feinted, and Rico lunged. They danced around each other, attempting to land what would be a lethal blow in an actual fight while avoiding the other's attacks. This was wild-style, and Private was learning quickly. He had landed a total four 'killing' blows on Rico since their daily lessons had begun two weeks before. Private was determined to do better and make Rico proud. So he danced in the dance of danger and excitement, trying to spot an opening in Rico's solid defense.

It took several minutes, but Rico finally landed another blow after a great struggle that sent Private sprawling across the snow, nursing another sore spot. But he didn't regret the pain. It told him that he still had improvements to make to his technique. The fact that the fight lasted as long as it did meant he was doing better, and Rico's beaming pride sent warmth spreading through his heart even as he was pulled to his feet again.

The last four weeks had been rough. General Buzz had interrogated Rico and Private repeatedly, demanding to know everything about their operations. Private would have caved already had he known anything more than what he'd already said. Rico, on the other hand, refused to divulge the information he had, citing that he had no orders from Skipper to do so. He didn't care that Buzz was of the rank of general, much higher than Skipper's rank of captain. All Rico cared about was his leader's orders, and Buzz despised him because of it.

Private settled down, pleasantly worn from their training exercises, and nuzzled Rico. The older penguin nipped his cheek then stared out over the plains, his expression tight. Rico was still uncertain as to what he should do about his tribe. He was reluctant to go straight to them and talk, but he wouldn't explain why. Every time it came up in discussion, Rico would favor his scar for hours afterward. Private knew it was a difficult topic, and he just couldn't bring himself to ask about it.

But time was limited. It had been two months since they'd left New York, and they were no closer to finding where Skipper and Kowalski were taken. It was true that they had narrowed down where in the peaks they were, but Rico's tribe had more land in the peaks than any other tribe. From what the native penguin remembered, there were five cave systems on his ancestral land, and they were deeper than any others. They twisted and turned for miles underground, and it would be easy to get lost. So they had lost two of their four months with little to show for it.

One of the few positive changes was that Private was now used to life in Antarctica. He could preen himself as well as Rico; he fished with speed, grace, and ease; and, more recently, he could sense coming changes in the weather. It had been with great pleasure that Rico had initiated him in wild-style. Private took to it with great enthusiasm, and in the month that they had been with the penguin company, he had excelled in his training. It made Rico proud to see the young penguin turning into a warrior, and Private loved Rico's praise, mostly because he knew Rico wouldn't have done so if he hadn't earned it.

As Private was screwing up his courage to broach the subject of what they were to do, a private hurried up and saluted them. Rico grunted as Private saluted back; Rico only ever saluted General Buzz, and even then, he did it grudgingly. As he told Private, he only did so because it's what Skipper would have expected. The military grunt raked his eyes over Rico and Private, who were pressed close, and leered. It wasn't in his, or his fellow soldiers', definition of masculine, so they talked about the two behind their backs. Rico genuinely didn't care, and Private didn't let it bother him, though it had been a difficult learning curve for the younger penguin.

"Yes?" Private asked.

"General Buzz wants you both to join a meeting with the officers," he said.

"I'm a private," the younger penguin said.

"You are to translate for Rico."

"Alright."

Private stood up, and Rico rolled his eyes, but followed. They were escorted to one of the command tents, and the two soldiers at the entrance saluted them and held the flaps open.

"Watch what you say, Private," Rico muttered.

Private didn't respond. After walking inside, he was momentarily stunned by the number eyes that landed on them. Private had previously met all of the officers in the camp, but now there were three times as many. Rico stood beside him at attention and saluted the general, and Private quickly followed suit.

The general nodded. "Boys, this is Rico and Private. Rico is a Sergeant First Class underneath my son. Private is a private, here to translate for Rico, who has an injury that prevents him from speaking our language."

"Should they even be here? He's not even an officer," one of the penguins said.

"I want him here," Buzz replied.

"Sir, we have no time for double-translations," a gruff penguin said, narrowing his eyes.

"Please, sir," Private said. "Rico can understand English. It is just his tongue that we will need to translate."

"They will stay," Buzz said sternly.

There was no more argument, and the penguins settled down. Rico and Private went inside and found a spot out of the way to stand. The briefing began with talk of the battalion's objective to stop a penguin uprising that they'd traced back to Antarctica. Rico's eyes were intense as he listened. Because of his refusal to speak of their operations, he had never been allowed in these meetings.

Neither knew why they were here now, but Private was uneasy. The general wasn't the kind of penguin to just change his mind about somebody. He was planning something. Something bad.

Private didn't think it was his place to speak, so he tried to follow what was going on. The officers were animatedly discussing uprisings at zoos. There were arguments back and forth, and theories, but it was going nowhere. They couldn't find a reliable connection.

Rico placed a flipper on Private's back. "I wish to speak. Ask them how far removed the penguins were from the wild."

Private's mouth went dry, and just thinking of getting the attention of all these higher-ranked penguins made him feel faint. Rico patted his back.

"A little more moxy, soldier," Rico said.

Private nodded and cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he said loudly. Nobody paid him any mind. "Excuse me!" he half-shouted.

Nobody even glanced at him. Anger bubbled through him, and he glanced at Rico. The older penguin nodded, and Private filled his lungs and let out a wild shriek. The room went silent immediately, and every head turned to stare at them, beaks agape.

Private felt his face warm, but he ruffled his feathers and huffed. "Thank you," he said. "Rico has a question."

"Yes?" Buzz asked irritably.

"He wants to know to what degree the penguins were removed from the wild."

There was silence for a moment, and then a lieutenant spoke. "The ones I've talked to are either freshly removed or first generation."

"Yes!" another penguin said excitedly. "Mine, too!"

There was a chorus of agreement then Rico spoke again.

"Then there's your link."

"And what of it?" Buzz asked Rico after Private had translated.

"Blowhole has made an alliance with the Iczantu tribe," he replied. "The Iczantu are the largest and most powerful tribe in the land. Mankind often picks up stragglers and the ill from the dying lands and takes them to care facilities and zoos. Blowhole must have found this out and used native penguins to spread his message. It would be a simple matter to spread his poison to all those who are susceptible."

The room was silent and still. After a long pause, the general narrowed his eyes. "How long have you known this?"

"A month," Rico said, his face set.

"And you didn't tell me this why?"

"You didn't ask."

The room stirred as Buzz glared. "I asked you to tell me everything that Skipper knows!"

"Skipper didn't know this," Rico answered, and Private was quick to translate. "I found this out on my journeys to the tribes."

Buzz slapped the table in front of him, rage etched into his gruff features. "You deliberately withheld necessary information!"

"You didn't allow me to know what information you needed!" Rico retorted.

"You're just as stupid as my son!" Buzz snapped. "Selfish and foolish! This is for the greater good! I never liked you or Kowalski's son! And that Private! He's too young, and he's being raised in such terrible company! Manfredi and Johnson, them I recommended! But does he keep them? No!"

"Enough!" Private bellowed, and the general was so surprised by his outburst that he froze, beak agape.

Private had done his job translating and added nothing of his own. But just hearing what Buzz thought of his family and those traitors that had killed his parents was too much.

"You listen here," Private said sternly, his eyes glinting like sunlight off a sharp peak. He took a few steps forward and stared right at Buzz. "I've been patient with you, General. I've obeyed every order you've given without complaint. I have respected you despite your mean-spirited barbs about Skipper, but you have crossed the line!

"I don't know what happened in Denmark. I don't know what your relationship was like before or after. But I will not let you stand there and spit out these lies about my family! You say that you don't like Kowalski and Rico, but you wanted Skipper to keep Manfredi and Johnson. But you want to know something? They killed my parents!"

Though they were in a tent, Private's voice seemed to echo for a moment. There was dead silence, and every eye was wide with shock. Private's face was hard, and Buzzing was stunned, blinked stupidly at him. He tried to speak several times before he managed a hoarse word.

"What?"

"That's right. The men you recommended to Skipper betrayed us and killed my parents and stole my egg and joined Blowhole! They are probably with him right now, torturing my Skipper. And who's still with Skipper, being held against his will and tortured? Kowalski! The penguin you 'didn't recommend'. And who has brought me to Antarctica to rescue them? Who's taught me how to survive in this frigid land without any of your fancy equipment? Who taught me to fish and is so loyal to Skipper that he won't divulge a single thing to you about our operations? Another penguin you 'didn't recommend'!"

Private was puffed up with anger as he slammed the truth home. "Your judgement left your son in danger and destroyed my parents. I don't believe you are twisted enough to have done it on purpose. But think of this, General. Who would come to save you as Rico and I came for him?"

Private looked fiercely around the room. To his surprise, nobody could meet his eyes. They all seemed cowed beneath his angry eyes.

"I've had enough of this," Private said.

"Then let's go fishing," Rico said calmly.

And they turned their backs on the general and the other officers and strolled right out. The guards stared after them; they'd heard what Private had shouted, and they were shocked. Rico said nothing until they were preparing to dive then he placed his flippers on Private's shoulders. Private expected disapproval, but there was none. Rico beamed, and there were tears in his eyes.

"What?" Private asked, bewildered.

"You are no little penguin anymore! You are a warrior!"

And Private felt his heart swell. "Thanks, Rico," he said and embraced him.

Rico held him and sighed. "Now, let's fish to celebrate!"