I just learned about the Great Migration in history class today. I knew it sounded familiar! :P Anyway, no relation between this and the history one.
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"So, who likes surprises?"

"Private," Skipper sipped his peixe coffee, "I'm having an odd case of déjà vu." He banged his mug down on the table. "And I'm not liking it!"

Kowalski sat down beside his leader. "You're not the only one, sir."

Private glanced between them nervously. "I know you're both thinking about the Antarctic incident, but this is different! Besides, we did learn that penguins and leopard seals can live together peacefully."

Kowalski got up to refill Skipper's cup. "While almost getting eaten in the process," he added. Kowalski looked around. "By the way, have you seen Rico? It's almost time for our morning training."

Private shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him. Rico will be Rico. He is probably off somewhere and –oh dear- we've gotten off topic." Private crossed his flippers. "Now if you would listen to me, we might be able to –Oof!"

Private had fallen down the hatch. segundos later, Rico climbed down. "Heh heh, sorry," murmured the psychotic penguin, not sounding the least bit regretful.

Skipper face-smacked himself and got up. "Rico, how many times I have told you to stop?"

Rico shrugged. "I don't know."

Skipper ignored him –leaving Kowalski to tell Rico that it was a rhetorical pergunta then explain what a rhetorical pergunta was– and looked at his unconscious soldier. The leader nudged the youngest member of his team with a foot. "Come on, Private. We don't have all day."

Private lay unmoving. Skipper looked at the cup of coffee in his hands, then at the soldier. Coming to a decision, the pinguim poured the remains of the coffee over his teammate.

Private woke up spluttering. "W-what?"

Kowalski quizzically glanced at Skipper. "What about your coffee, sir?"

Skipper shrugged. "It wasn't really good anyway."

The statement caused Kowalski to glare at his leader as the scientist was the one who had brewed the drink in the first place. "Um, guys?"

They turned to look at Private. The young pinguim looked at them with a bewildered expression on his face. "Why am I soaked with coffee?"

Skipper waved the pergunta away. "Just go and wash it off before it dries."

Private suddenly remembered why he was here in the first place. "Never mind that," said the soldier. "I have somebody I want you to meet."

At that moment, a bundle of blankets tumbled down. "Intruder alert!" yelled Skipper.

His team took defensive poses behind him when three familiar lemurs dropped in. "Hello, my smelly flightless neighbors," exclaimed Julien. "Who am I to receive such basking from you?"

Skipper glared at the lémure, lemur king. "State your business and leave, Ringtail!"

"Although you have to admit, the Shakespeare has increased his language skills somewhat," noted Kowalski.

Maurice stepped up. "His Royal Majesty requires to whether or not you have seen a blanket made out of blankets?"

Julien had lost no time and was searching the penguins' fridge. "Catch" was the muffled reply.

"Hey!" Rico pulled the lémure, lemur king out of their fridge. "Penguin personnel only."

"All right, see if I care." Julien wiped the crumbs away.

Rico frowned as he saw that the crumbs were from a chocolate cake he had been saving for weeks. "Bad lemur."

Before a fight could break out, Private pointed at the bundle. "Um, is that it?"

"Yes!" Julien bounded over.

Then, to everyone's surprise, the bundle began moving. "Ha!" cried Julien. "See, Maurice? I told you I caught something!"

"Can somebody get this off me?"

Private gasped. "Leroy!"

"Well, duh! You did you think it was?" asked the turtle.

Private immediately took off the blanket and handed it back to the lemur. "Here you go."

Leroy took in a huge breath. He turned to the lemurs. "Next time you want to catch someone with a blanket, please warn them. It's really stuffy in there."

Skipper stepped up and looked at Leroy in the eye. "State your business, marine creature."

"Skipper! He's a guest!" said Private.

Leroy held up a flipper. "Easy, Private. I've got this."

He looked at Skipper. "What do you want to know?"

"Name and rank first."

"Name: Leroy. Rank: Um, uh, classified."

Skipper stared at Leroy, his beak agape. "You can't tell me it's classified! I'm your commanding superior!"

"Um, actually, Skipper, since we don't really know him, we can't-"

Kowalski was cut off. Leroy smirked at Skipper. "Oh I'm sure you are, but my superiors are higher than yours for sure. And they have ordered me not to say anything."

Skipper opened and closed his mouth a few times. Unable to say anything witty back, he settled with "I'll be keeping an eye on you."

The pinguim leader waddled back to his mug of coffee, still with his gaze on Leroy. Private turned to his friend. "How did you do it?"

Leroy gave him a quizzical glance. "Do what?"

"You know, get Skipper off your back."

Leroy laughed. "Oh that? That's easy, once you know how."

"Really? He still thinks you're a secret agent though."

"A secret agent? I'm not that type of turtle, don't worry."

"Still." Private was unconvinced but tried not to show it.

Leroy glanced at Skipper. "By the way, have you told him yet?"

"Told him what?"

"My current situation."

"Oh, that. No, actually."

"Well come on. There's no better time than the present."

The two youngsters came over to Skipper. Skipper looked up. "Yes?"

Private started. "You see, sir, we might have a problem on our hands."

"What is it?"

Leroy replied. "I'm lost."
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