Part 5: "A Promise"

Given the risks ahead, Moldir reorganizes her scouting teams before departure.
Moldir: Do you think this would be the right heading?
Penguins: Wawk!
Buddy Fairchild: Scarlet Titan just swore on his belly fluff that it's the best way forward, Lieutenant, and don't nobody know Antarctica better 'n a penguin.
Buddy Fairchild: Will the rest o' yer soldier pals catch up to us? Ol' Jake could carry 'em a message if ya like.
Moldir: Let's press forward a little more. How far is the camp you mentioned?
Moldir: It's not that I don't trust you. But out here, every order has to be made with extreme caution.
Buddy Fairchild: No offense taken, Lieutenant. I getcha, believe me—I do.
The squirrel nods enthusiastically, spreads his paws, and rolls his eyes. It was a dramatic display for a human, let alone a squirrel.
Buddy Fairchild: See that there iceberg up ahead? We'll circle 'round it. Then there won't be no missin' their camp—thing sticks out like a gator in a henhouse.
Moldir: Thank you for understanding, Mr. Fairchild.
She glances down at her watch. 33 hours since David went missing.
Still not fully sure of the trust she's put in these new fuzzy companions, Moldir steps out on their fourth and newest search.
The one most likely to lead to an encounter with Manus Vindictae.
Moldir: I wanted to thank you again for your help and the risks you're taking.
Buddy Fairchild: Shucks, lieutenant. No need for none o' that.
Buddy Fairchild: We wouldn't be safe out here all on our lonesome neither. We're grateful for the backup.
Moldir: Hopefully, it won't be necessary.
The trek across the icefield is as grueling as it is dull. But Moldir is used to long marches and forges ahead at a steady, focused pace.
Buddy Fairchild: Soooo ... you got any funny stories or somethin', Lieutenant?
Moldir: Best to save our energy.
Buddy Fairchild: Oh, okay ...
Moldir: I'm sorry. I don't have much to say for now. Perhaps once we are in a safer spot.
Buddy Fairchild: Safer spot? You got one o' those? Wouldn't happen to be one o' them places with unlimited drink refills, would it?
Buddy Fairchild: Didn't expect to feel so parched with all this water around me, even if the whole lot's frozen ... Suddenly Florida don't seem so bad.
Buddy Fairchild: By the way, Lieutenant, where exactly did ya say ya heard o' me?
He's asking for a second time, seemingly probing. The lieutenant finds herself staring at her hand. Once, the warm winds of São Paulo had wrapped around that very palm the way cold wind and sub-zero-rated gloves do now.
Moldir: You were in the papers. I ... just remember hearing about you.
Buddy Fairchild: That figures.
Moldir: I believe it was in the "Oddities of the Americas" column.
Buddy Fairchild: Hmm ... well, famous is famous as far as I see it, dontcha think?
Penguins: Wawk wawk!
The mood shifts, and Moldir stiffens. Even Buddy seems to turn oddly serious.
Buddy Fairchild: This is the place.
Scattered gear and supplies untouched but clearly abandoned to the elements. The chaos paints a grim picture.
After confirming the markings on the crates, Moldir pulls out her notebook and scrawls three short encrypted messages. She then hands them out to the three penguins.
Moldir: Thank you. Just drop these at the designated points.
Buddy Fairchild: You got it, Lieutenant. They'll have it done in a jiffy.
Buddy Fairchild: So ... what next?
Moldir's eyes flick across the map. Her steno pencil scratching the paper.
Moldir: We don't have much time. I need to ask for your help again.
Moldir: It's only a request—you can say no. It may be dangerous.
She glances back to her hand before meeting the squirrel's eyes with heartfelt resolve.
Moldir: No matter what you decide, you've earned my friendship.
Moldir: I promise, when the time comes, I'll do everything I can to keep you and your penguins safe.
Moldir: And even if I can't keep that promise myself ... my comrades will. I swear it, on a soldier's honor.
Buddy Fairchild: ... Whaddya mean, "if ya can't keep it"?
Buddy Fairchild: What's got ya thinkin' it'll be so dangerous?
Moldir: I don't know for sure. I'm simply preparing for the worst. It's something we always do before going into battle.
Buddy Fairchild: Ah, well ... ahem ... thank you then. That sure means a lot.
Buddy Fairchild: But ... ya did say I could say no, didn't ya?
The lieutenant nods and takes out a document.
Moldir: Can you read maps? Wait for Sergeant White Gloves at this location, and he'll handle everything from there.
Buddy Fairchild: But what about you, Lieutenant?
Moldir checks her watch, then looks across the snowfield cloaked in the shadow of a distant iceberg.
Moldir: I have orders. I need my team back.
Buddy Fairchild: In that case ... good luck, Lieutenant.
She nods her thanks, leaves a marker behind at the abandoned camp, and walks off into the white alone.
The squirrel watches her go, holding the papers she left.
Buddy Fairchild: There she goes ... that, my penguin pals, is a true hero, headin' out alone to save her kin.
Buddy Fairchild: And here I am, nuttin' but a squirrel with the tongue and mind to talk to animals ... ain't even got so much as a clue as to what those masked-up oil-spewers're sayin'.
Buddy Fairchild: But shoot—if not Antarctica, where in the world else would we go?
He stares down at the papers in his paw again.
Buddy Fairchild: Hmph! She called me "mister," dangnabbit!
He drops the papers and darts off after her.