
SQUAD Squadron: First Mission -- Part One
by cosmicfire918
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"THE GREAT MUMBO PANGO DEMANDS WHISKED EGGS WITH SCALLION
SPROUTS!!!" a Coco shouted in the ear of the Underwater Chef. The frazzled Flotsam
tenderly massaged the side of his head with his flipper as the Coco ran out of
his kitchen, satisfied that its work was done. The Chef groaned-at least he had
all of the ingredients, but whipping up a truly good batch of Whisked Eggs with
Scallion Sprouts was going to take time, and that was one of the two things the
great Mumbo Pango never gave him. The other thing was his pay.
Mere minutes later, a Coco (it might have been
the same Coco that yelled in his ear; Mumbo Pango's servants were pretty hard
to tell apart) ambled into the Chef's kitchen, and was promptly presented with
a heaping bowl of Whisked Eggs and Scallion Sprouts. It seemed satisfied with
this offering, and turned to walk away, but quickly snapped back and took a
deep breath. The Chef covered his ears with his flippers, knowing what was coming
next. "THE GREAT MUMBO PANGO…is going to sleep for the night," the Coco said
in a much quieter voice. "You may rest until morning, but as soon as the honorable
Mumbo Pango awakes, HE DEMANDS BOILED ANEMONE AND CHERVIL OMELETTES!!!" The
Chef fell over, wire whisk still in hand.
The Coco quickly exited the scene, and the Chef
started washing out that day's dishes in his large sink. Overwhelmed by all
of the cooking, and his ears ringing from orders being screamed into them all
day, his eyes slowly started to close, and he drooped into the dishwater, snoring
like a Donksaur…
The Chef awoke with a start. Someone was in his
pantry. In the dim moonlight coming through the kitchen curtains, he could also
see that someone had thrashed his kitchen, strewing pots and silverware everywhere.
The Chef didn't need a Neoschool diploma to figure out that who-or whatever
was in his closet also made his kitchen a mess. Angry at this display of vandalism
(and disregard for good cookery), he grabbed a spatula and sort of half-waddled,
half-slid (it's hard for Flotsams to move around on land, you know…) over to
his pantry. Listening closely, he could hear faint scuffling sounds, and a few
growls. The Chef gulped. Whatever was in there was probably very, very dangerous.
Finally, the Flotsam gathered up his courage,
and jumped into the pantry, wielding his spatula like it was a rapier. "Stop
messing with my foodstuffs, you nasty-" DONG!! The Chef fell over backwards,
unconscious. The pantry raider had apparently picked up a frying pan while it
was going through the kitchen. Swinging a bulging sack over its shoulder, the
shadowy figure cackled with glee and jumped out of the kitchen window, running
into the jungle…
The Chef slowly came to consciousness. He had
dreamt that a monster had messed up his kitchen and was in his pantry, eating
all of his ingredients for Mumbo Pango's food. He slowly opened his eyes and
found himself staring into the eyeholes of a Coco mask. And it was staring right
back. He blinked. "What am I-"
"THE GREAT MUMBO PANGO DEMANDS BOILED ANEMONE
AND CHERVIL OMELETTES!!!" the Coco cut him off gleefully. It then looked past
the Chef, into the pantry, and let off a high-pitched shriek. "WHAT IN JHUIDAH'S
NAME HAPPENED TO ALL OF THE GREAT MUMBO PANGO'S FOOD?!?!"
"You sure like yelling…" the Chef said, slowly
getting up. He rubbed the back of his head and winced with pain. "Ow, it feels
like I was hit with one of my frying pans or some…thing…" He looked around his
kitchen. "What in Jhuidah's name DID happen?!" he cried. All of the blood drained
from his face, turning it a rather lovely shade of lavender. That lavender color
turned to near white when he saw what had happened to his pantry. All of the
food was GONE. Every last vegetable, all of his fine cuts of meat, even the
flour and sugar, had vanished.
The Coco looked up at the Chef, and the Chef
was sure that underneath that mask, it was wearing a nasty grin. "You have some
explaining to do to the great Mumbo Pango…"
As the Chef was ushered into Mumbo Pango's hut,
absolute terror filled every bone in the Flotsam's body. He had only been inside
the huge hut once before, when he sought refuge from his destroyed Maraqua home,
but it still hadn't changed. Brightly colored, freshly picked tropical flowers
were tied to the bamboo walls, and all around the hut were Cocos doing things
like making leis, sharpening spears, and nibbling on Tigersquash. The only light
came from the doorway and a small hole in the middle of the roof, so it took
the Chef's eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Directly underneath
the hole was a smoldering fire pit. Sitting by the wall of the hut opposite
the doorway was Mumbo Pango himself, on a large, ornately carved wooden chair.
He was watching a Coco shaman dance, chant, and wave around a stick with feathers
on it.
The Chef approached him hesitantly; he knew how
harsh Mumbo Pango could be, and that he probably did not tolerate failure very
well. "Um…hello there, Mumbo Pango…" he said timidly.
"You no talk until Mumbo Pango talk!" Mumbo Pango
thundered. "And Mumbo Pango want breakfast!" The Chef was sure that all of the
Coco eyes on the hut were riveted on him, but couldn't look away from Mumbo
Pango for fear of incurring his wrath. "Want breakfast NOW!!!" Mumbo Pango roared,
stamping his feet on the ground.
"Great Mumbo Pango, sir," the Chef began hesitantly,
"I'm afraid that…all of the food…has been…stolen." He cringed.
Mumbo Pango stood up, his large hands balled
into fists. "Mumbo Pango angry…but Mumbo Pango like dinner from before he sleep
last night, so Mumbo Pango give you one last chance." The fearful Flotsam looked
up at Mumbo Pango, a hint of relief on his terrified face. "Find food by time
sun go down…or Mumbo Pango summon Chiazilla!!"
All of the Cocos in the hut gasped, as did the
Chef. Chiazilla was dangerous. But Chiazilla controlled by an angry coconut-god
was even more dangerous. The Flotsam, now in a state of absolute panic, sought
divine assistance. He ran out of the hut, through the jungle, and swam as fast
as he could to the mainland, where he could catch an Eyrie to Faerieland…
Fyora sat on her throne, lazily looking out the
window at the clouds slowly floating by. She had just finished her breakfast
of Fluffy Faerie Pancakes and, with her group of elite Faerie knights, was waiting
for what the day would bring. Surely, some pets would come to her with their
problems, owners would arrive with complaints, and if she was lucky, there might
even be a war or she could get kidnapped. All in a day's work for the Faerie
Queen. She was aroused from her daydreaming by the tall purple doors of her
throne room bursting open, and a small indigo Flotsam with a chef's hat and
an olive on his horn waddling in, breathless.
"Fyora…help…Mumbo Pango…going to…" The Flotsam
flopped down on the burgundy carpet leading to the Queen's throne, gasping for
breath.
Fyora got up and rushed over to him, taking one
of his flippers in her hand. "You're that Chef from Mystery Island, aren't you?"
He nodded weakly. "What's wrong?" she asked. Although she had hundreds of pets
come to her with problems every day, she never lost her compassion for them.
That's why she's the Queen.
The Chef swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
"Someone stole all of my food from my kitchen and Mumbo Pango says if I don't
get it back by sunset he is going to summon Chiazilla!!!" He took another deep
breath, and then added, "May I please have a glass of water?"
"Misty, if you would be so kind," Fyora said,
looking at her Faerie Knights, who were gathered close, watching her tend to
the Chef.
From the small crowd of Faeries stepped a Water
Faerie. Well, it would be inaccurate to say stepped, as Water Faeries don't
have feet. This Water Faerie was sitting on the back of a rather large Faerie
Lupe with a black pelt and calm yellow eyes. The Faerie had long blond hair
done up in a loose bun at the base of her neck, and determined blue eyes. The
iridescent scales covering the lower half of her body were a soothing cerulean
blue, and they ended in a powerful, leathery fin. She wore a blue, short-sleeved
shirt, and blue and gold armor over it, enchanted to be as light as a Pteri
feather. A sword with a sapphire hilt hung at her side from a leather belt.
She looked down at the Chef and smiled, and with a snap of her fingers, a crystal
cup filled with cool, clear water appeared in her hand. The Lupe knelt down
next to the Chef and Misty presented him with the water.
The Chef took it with a grateful smile and gulped
it down. The Lupe stood back up and looked at Fyora, as did Misty. Fyora smiled
down at the Flotsam. "Don't worry, Chef. I'll help you find the missing-"
"Fyora! Jhudora is planning to take over Neopia
with an army of mutant Meepits! We need you at the front lines!!" The Battle
Faerie ran through the tall doors of the throne room, sword and shield in hand,
her purple hair tossed wildly about.
Fyora's face fell. "Again?" she said, exasperated.
She looked from the desperate Battle Faerie to the helpless Flotsam, not sure
what she should do, who she should help.
That's when Misty stepped forward resolutely.
"Your Highness, Fenris and I will help the Chef," she said. The Lupe nodded.
Fyora put her hand to her heart. "Thank you,
Misty! You're a real lifesaver! But, I'm worried about you…you just graduated
from the Faerie Academy and you haven't had any experience in Neopia yet…"
"Pardon me, Your Highness, but have you forgotten
that Misty graduated at the top of her class?" Fenris interjected. Misty patted
his shoulder affectionately.
"Right…" Fyora agreed. "Misty, you may go with
the Chef." She turned to her other knights. "Everyone else, follow me!" Fyora
and her Faerie posse trailed the Battle Faerie out of the doors, which slammed
shut behind them.
"Well then, it looks like it's just us. Let's
go." Misty picked up the Chef and sat him on Fenris' back, in front of her.
"Hold on tight!"
Fenris broke into a run, and jumped out of one
of the tall windows. The Chef yelped, but then Fenris started flapping his huge
Faerie wings, and their fall slowed, and then stopped altogether. They were
still high in the air. The Chef pointed. "Hey, I can see Neopia Central from
here!"
Misty chuckled. "C'mon Fen, let's get to Mystery
Island!" she shouted.
"You got it!" Fenris slowly turned southward,
and then took off at an incredible speed over the ocean. Looking down, the Chef
could see some pods of Flotsams leaping over the water, and farther down, some
schools of Koi. He even caught a glance of some ruined buildings that he thought
might have been Maraqua.
Faster than the Chef could have imagined, the
flight was over. Fenris gracefully fluttered to a landing on the soft, sandy
beach. They were on an empty part of the island, and the jungle loomed up above
them…
To be continued...
Hey everybody! I hope you like my story! I worked really hard on it, and
this is probably the first story in a long time that I've seen through to the
end. When I first started writing it, I didn't realize how long it would be!
I hope all of my stories aren't multiple-part series like this… Then again,
maybe it's a good thing… Questions? Comments? Rotten Berries? Just send me a
Neomail!