Hello. I have finally posted a story about my five cadets. If you've read my profile, you'll know a bit about them. Any who, this story is about how they come to Central Park Zoo. Here's the first chappie.

Chapter 1: New Arrivals.

"Skipper's paranoia seems to be acting up today," Kowalski stated, as the four commando birds sat at the breakfast table.

"What makes you say that, Kowalski?" Private asked, watching in disgust, as Rico stuffed five fish in his mouth, swallowing them whole.

"I can just tell," Kowalski explained. "I've been with him and Rico long enough to know when something's up."

"You're right, soldier," Skipper suddenly yelled. "My gut's telling me something's going to happen."

"Well, your gut had been right in the past," Private acknowledged. "But I feel if something happens at all, it'll be a good thing."

"Good thing, or bad thing, Private, something's gonna happen. I just know it."

Later that morning, Kowalski was working in his lab. He was trying to invent a machine to boost his intelligence again. This time, permanently.

"Kowalski," Private cried, bursting through the lab door. "You're wanted topside."

Kowalski, who was hammering something, looked up and pounded his flipper.

"GOOD GOLLY! YEOWCH!" he screamed, adding some angry words, forgetting the young penguin was present.

"Oh…um…I-I think…I'll just…wait up there," Private cringed at Kowalski's language and throbbing, red flipper. "Oh dear, I can't believe I heard that,"

"Why am I so stu-" Kowalski was cut off by Skipper's shout.

"GET UP HERE, MAN!"

Skipper glared as Kowalski jumped out of the HQ.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," he snarled. "Rico and I heard you from up here. You should mind your language when the private is present."

"Sorry Skipper. I just had some…technical difficulties." He held up his left flipper.

"Eww, that can't be good," Skipper remembered the reason he wanted Kowalski. He pointed to a crate. "Analyse this, please."

"It's a crate, Skipper," he groaned.

"I know it's a crate. But I don't know what's inside it," Skipper sighed, getting frustrated.

"Neither do I," Kowalski snapped. "Do you think I have x-ray vision, or something?" Skipper slapped him. "Sorry, Skipper. I'm just frustrated." He held out his flipper. "Rico,"

Rico hacked up a crowbar and it landed in his left flipper.

"GREAT GALLILAO-" Skipper covered Private ears.

"Kowalski, language," Skipper warned.

"You do it, Rico," Kowalski sighed, handing the crowbar to the maniac.

Rico opened the crate.

"Stand back, men," the four penguins took a few steps backwards, Kowalski landing in the pool.

"Today is just not my day," he groaned.

Private took a few steps forward, peering into the crate. He turned to Skipper, who nodded and ventured inside.

Skipper watched the young penguin enter the dark box. After a moment, he cried out.

"Skippah," Skipper went into alert mode.

"What is it, Private?" he asked.

"Look," Private waddled out, holding a white, round object.

"What is this, soldier?"

"Skipper, it appears to be an egg," Kowalski stated, taking it out of Private's flippers.

"And not just one," Private said, happily, "look," he pointed inside. The three older birds saw four more eggs, nestled in straw.

"Five eggs?" Skipper gaped, picking up one of the round balls. "What in the world in going on?"

"Well, these five eggs could have been abandoned in Antarctica," Kowalski said, examining his egg.

"But there are four of us," Private pointed out. "Who'll care for the extra one?"

"Look at them," Kowalski said. "They're all different."

He was right. The one he was holding was long and thin. The one Skipper was holding and one of the others was the shape of normal eggs. Rico had picked one up and it was sort of flattish and the last one, still in the crate, was small and perfectly round.

Skipper picked up the one identical to his.

"I'll take the extra one," he looked at the eggs. "They're exactly the same."

"If my research in correct," began Kowalski, "which it usually is," Rico rolled his eyes, "that means these are identical twins."

"Identical," Private repeated, "meaning both boys or both girls, as well as looking exactly the same?"

"No, the gender has nothing to do with it," Kowalski said. "They'll just look identical."

Private picked up the last egg and cradled it in his flippers.

"I hope they all hatch soon," he cooed.