Skipper was awoken by sharp pains in all of his muscles. He blinked open his eyes to see a dark green sky above him. Where was he? As he rubbed the sand out of his eyes, he began to remember. He sat up with a jolt, causing another burning sensation to shoot through his muscles. Renae and Kowalski were still sleeping, looking perfectly peaceful. Kowalski was snoring.

Skipper stood up, head almost brushing against the vinyl ceiling, and unzipped the tent's front entrance. Outside, branches were scattered across the sand from last night's wind and rain. The sky was clear now, however, and the sun was hanging high and proud in the blue expanse. From its position, he guessed it was about 0800 hours. He pondered waking the other two, but decided to let them get as much rest as they needed. Despite his soreness and tiredness, he felt glad to be alive and ready to face the day.

He exited the tent and set about gathering the branches for later use. When he had accumulated a large pile, he sat down and stared at the sea. It was such a tranquil morning.

"Ow! You just kicked me!"

"Huh—wha? No I didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not!"

Skipper sighed. It had been a tranquil morning. He walked back to the tent and opened the flap. "Good morning, privates. Ready for duty?" He got two groans in response. Skipper chuckled. "Well, looks like we have two very chipper early birds, don't we?"

"If Kowalski hadn't snored like a herd of buffalo, maybe," Renae grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"I don't snore!" Kowalski protested, sitting up.

"Actually, you do," Skipper said. "Come on, let's pack up quickly so we can get a real campsite set up in a forest clearing."

"Woah, wait, we're going into the forest full of jaguars and anacondas?" Renae asked.

"Not very far in. And we'll be fine if we stick together. We need to be closer to that freshwater spring if we want to be sure of our survival. It could take a team days to find us without exact coordinates." Skipper lifted his pack out of the tent. "Let's eat a little more of that tuna and get going."

They were soon packed up, but before they went, Skipper walked over to his pile of sticks.

"What are you doing?" Kowalski asked.

"This area is open and easy to see," Skipper explained, lifting a stick from the pile. "I'm making a signal." Skipper began arranging the branches into letters, and once Renae and Kowalski figured what he was doing, they helped. Soon they had a giant 'SOS' stretching out across the beach.

"Smart," Renae praised.

"Indeed it is," Kowalski agreed. "A plane should be able to spot that from the air."

"Alright, now that that's done, through the woods to grandmother's house we go," Skipper said, rubbing his flippers together.

"I liked the beach better."

"Kowalski, quit complaining," Skipper said, knocking away a vine with a machete. "You know we need better shelter."

Kowalski smacked away a bug and stepped over a thorny plant. "I'm full aware of the reasons why we're doing this. I'm just saying … I liked the beach better."

Skipper responded with only an eye roll as the penguins continued to battle their way through the forest. It seemed that the plant life existed merely to frustrate the trio. Their short legs were of no help to them.

Renae pushed a branch out of her way and let go, allowing the twig to bounce back to its original position. This inadvertently—though not unexpectedly—resulted in Kowalski being smacked in the face by wood and leaves.

"Hey!"

"You should watch where you're going."

"Sh," Skipper said, holding out a flipper to stop them. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Sh!" They strained their ears. Skipper scanned the jungle around them. There it was again—a low, ominous hissing.

"Okay, I hear it now," Kowalski gulped.

"A snake?" Renae posed, eyes nervously darting back and forth.

"No, that's not a snake," Kowalski replied. Skipper and Renae breathed sighs of relief. "That's many snakes." The relief was gone.

"Is it just me, or is the hissing getting louder?" Renae asked.

"Not just you," Skipper answered. "I think—" Before he could finish his sentence, a dozen long, silvery reptiles slipped out from under the bushes and surrounded them, giving a cold black stare.

"T-Timothy? Are those venomous?" Renae moved behind him.

"Don't call me—you know what? This isn't the time. I believe those would be Tachymenis chilensis, a.k.a. Chilean Slender Snakes, a.k.a. venomous." Kowalski in turn moved behind Skipper, who raised an eyebrow.

"Chilean? What are they doing in Colombia?"

"Well, I could be wrong. There are a lot of slender snakes, mostly in—" He was interrupted by Renae's scream when the biggest of the snakes flung himself forward. Skipper got in a ready stance, but the reptile stopped short of them.

"Well, what have we here?" the snake hissed. He had a suave Spanish accent, much like a certain villain who Skipper and Kowalski would meet far into the future. "We have tracked down the penguin agentsss. We have done well. You are coming with ussss."

"I guess I was right about the species," Kowalski shivered.

"We won't do nothin'," Skipper growled, gripping the machete tighter.

"Um, Skipper, that's a double negative."

Skipper rolled his eyes. "We won't do anything. How did the Duke find us?"

"He hasss his waysss." The snake's eyes flashed. "You leave us no choice. You fight, we will bite."

"Battle stations!" Skipper shouted as the slithering villain launched himself forward. The three penguins jumped into a triangle, back-to-back. Kowalski pulled a pair of nunchucks out of his pack, and Renae grabbed a manriki chain. They then slipped off their heavy backpacks to better move. The fighting was a blur of silver and black-and-white. Skipper used the blunt end of his machete to knock several snakes away, and Renae, using her chain as a whip, lassoed three of them and threw them against a tree. Kowalski used his nunchucks with surprising skill, adding two more unconscious snakes to the pile. For a while it seemed they were winning, but the reptiles recovered quickly. There were many more of them then there were penguins, and they used a fighting style the trio wasn't used to. They slithered back and forth with surprising speed; it was nearly impossible to keep track of them all at once.

"Stay in a tight circle," Skipper commanded. "Don't let them break through and we should be fine." Renae whipped her chain a little too hard, and the end jerked out of her flipper. It tangled around one of the snakes several feet away. "Renae, don't—" She was already darting forward to retrieve her weapon. Seeing their opening, the snakes surrounded each penguin individually, making them spin in circles to defend themselves. Skipper caught sight of Renae, who had retrieved her weapon and was locked in a stare with the reptile band's leader.

"You look familiar …," he thought he heard the snake say. Four more surrounded her. Skipper sliced the snake he was doing battle with in half, and ran up to try and defend her. To his surprise, Renae held up a flipper to stop him.

"Let me do this," she said. "This is my fight."

What is she talking about? "Renae, we have to work together!"

"Not this time! Help Kowalski!" Skipper was about to protest before he saw that Kowalski had lost his nunchucks and was tied up with ropes of leathery scales. He belly-slid to his comrade just in time to take off the head of the snake that was about to bite him.

"Skipper! Thanks," Kowalski exclaimed, wriggling out of the snake's now-limp grip and grabbing his nunchucks off the ground. "Where's Renae?" They turned in unison to realize that all of the snakes had surrounded her. Kowalski would have paled if his feathers hadn't already been white. "Skipper, we have to—"

"I know." Skipper motioned for Kowalski to come with him, and they belly-slid towards Renae.

"Guys, don't," Renae yelled, fiercely whipping one of the snakes. "Get out of here!"

"No penguin gets left behind!" Skipper shouted back, charging in with his machete. The lead serpent managed to constrict around Renae's flipper, making her drop her manriki chain. The king of the reptiles grabbed her weapon with his tail, and used it to knock her down.

"No!" Kowalski dove in front of her just as the slender snake was about to strike, and his fangs caught Kowalski's right flipper. Renae gasped as the scientist dropped.

"K'walski!" Skipper tried to get to the others, but one of the six snakes vying for victory over him finally succeeded in landing a bite. His vision blurred as painful neurotoxin began to paralyze his muscles. The jungle began to flicker out of sight, the sounds of insects and birds became slurred. The last thing he remembered was a black-and-white figure hovering above him.

Skipper awoke for the second time that day—if it even was the same day—with burning, aching muscles. Something was different this time, however; when he tried to move, he found he couldn't. I failed … I couldn't protect my team. Again.

… Where are we, anyway? He couldn't feel anything on his skin—he was sure he was lying down on something hard, but was it ground or concrete? Were they in the villain's lair?

As his vision returned and he saw a tan tarp above him, he realized he was wrong. The snakes must have taken them to their camp. But then, why was he still alive?

"Awake! That didn't take very long." The voice was vaguely familiar, but not at all snake-like. Skipper squinted to see a penguin standing over him.

"Who … huh? What in the name of ju-jitsu is going on?" Skipper mumbled.

"I'm Agent Sphenson. Thank goodness I found you guys—and just in time, too." Sphenson was as tall as Kowalski, a Magellanic penguin like Renae. He looked a lot like Renae, actually. Almost as if they were related.

"Are the others alright?" Skipper asked. The paralysis felt like it was wearing off, and he managed to sit up.

"They're alive. Should be alright. Your mission file should have told you I've been tracking the Duke and his serpent cronies for a long time. I never go anywhere without some antidote." He reached a flipper down, which Skipper gladly took.

"Thank you," Skipper said when he had been pulled up. "We would have been goners. You were really a godsend."

"Hey, you guys are my help in tracking this guy down. I couldn't just let you die, now, could I?" Agent Sphenson gave a half-smile.

Skipper chuckled. "Guess not."

"So, I'm guessing you're Skipper Fidelis?"

"That would be me." Skipper made their acquaintance official by shaking flippers. "Here to offer any assistance in whatever way possible."

"Jay Sphenson, at your service," the agent said, giving a dramatic bow. Skipper looked at his rescuer more closely; he was probably no more than a couple years older than him, with several feathers falling over one of his green eyes. "Feeling up for a tour of my humble camp?"

"Sure," Skipper replied. The two of them left the tent and stepped out into a small clearing, close to the freshwater spring Skipper had been aiming for in the first place. "How long have you been in this spot? I was here just yesterday."

"Well, I've been moving around a lot, trying to find you guys. Set up last night right before the storm hit. You musta just missed me."

"That's pretty ironic." Skipper took a look around. A large fire pit sat in the center of the clearing, and by it Renae lay on a blanket, unmoving. Another small tent sat further to the back. Wrapping around the perimeter like a fence was a jumble of sharp sticks wedged into the jungle soil. Through this fence the spring could be seen. Skipper's eyes fell on Renae once more and saw she was stirring. He gave Agent Sphenson a nudge, and they walked to her side.

"Good, she's coming around," Sphenson said, kneeling to place a flipper on her.

"Hm … huh?" Renae murmured, blinking open her eyes. Suddenly she sat up and punched Jay in the face.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Agent Sphenson rubbed his beak. Renae stared at him in confusion for a while before looking around at the camp.

"Oh … where—where are we? Where are the snakes?" Renae asked. Skipper tried not to laugh, but couldn't help snickering.

"You're safe now, Rae. As in, there's no need to punch your poor cousin in the face," Jay grumbled.

"Jay! Oh my goodness, I'm sorry!" Renae gasped. "I thought—nevermind. You probably deserved that for something anyway." She gave a half-smile.

Skipper raised his eyebrows. "Wait … you two are … cousins?" He looked from one penguin to the other, feeling first puzzled, then a little left out. "And you didn't think to tell me this at the start of the mission?"

Renae shrugged. "It wasn't really important at the time." Skipper crossed his flippers, unable to argue.

"Hey, you mean you didn't talk about me? You wound me, cuz," Jay said, feigning sorrow. "Figuratively and literally." He rubbed his beak again.

Renae chuckled, then her smile reversed itself. "Wait, where's Kowalski?"

Jay's expression also turned more serious. "In the other tent. I don't know why, but the bite he received was meant to kill, unlike yours which were less severe."

"Because … because that was meant for me," Renae said quietly.

"Hold it," Skipper commanded. "There's more to this than I'm understanding. Anyone want to tell me what in the name of space squids is going on?"

Renae and her cousin both awkwardly looked away. "It's nothing important," Renae said eventually. "Let's check on Kowalski." She struggled to her feet. Skipper followed them toward the tent, more suspicious than ever.