I've finally found a good name for my ongoing story, It might change as I get closer to the end, but owell. I'm open to suggestions.
I've currently have three chapters typed up and I'm working on a fourth one. I'll update this story in small chunks of each chapter, just to keep things interesting. 
Be advised there is some light cursing, especially near the end of the third chapter; I'll try to edit it out before posting it.
There might be some small grammer errors, I apologive ahead of time for those Grammer Nazis. 
Anyway, On to the story:Chapter 1 "Where the Hell is Everybody?!"
0450 hours, an alarm goes off with a rasping, almost mechanical, repetitive BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!, only to be terminated by the faintest of clicks from the owner's snooze button. Ten minutes later, the alarm goes off again, almost in vain, and its owner grumbled and muttered a few curses about, "that damn alarm clock". The owner sat up, pressed the "off" button on his alarm clock, and sat with his hind legs hanging off the side of the bed.
He rubbed his eyes, slid his glasses onto his muzzle, and clearly stated, "Lights on - Dim." The combination ceiling fan and light glowed to the preprogrammed point were colors would only just start to be seen, just the way he liked it.
At that point the human-like Siberian Husky stood up and scratched his head. Clad in only his shirt and underwear, he grabbed his strategically placed clothes and headed across the hallway adjoining his room to the bathroom.
After the Husky adjusted the computerized temperature controls to ninety degrees and pressing "Shower" on the control screen, the shower hissed to life. As the water warmed, he took out a small pair of scissors and trimmed the fur on his face to his liking.
Once the shower was warm, he stepped in, quickly became aware of his surroundings, and took a shower in nearly record time, forty-five seconds. Muttering to himself, he growled because it was worse then yesterday's time of thirty-eight seconds. Quickly, he dried off, slipped on a simple t-shirt and jeans, and headed downstairs to check his e-mail. Seeing that the internet had nothing new to offer, he quickly whispered goodbye to his mother, who responded with a slurred and sleepy, "Have a good day." By 0545 hours, he's in his truck, which is almost too small for him, and drove off to school.
While backing into his parking space outside the NJROTC building, one of the Husky's friends pulls up alongside him.
"Good Morning, Grey," says the stout turtle, "are you ready to catch a truckload of crap from First Sergeant today?"
Offering a quick glance to the five foot nine turtle, Grey queries, "For what am I condemned, Corgan?"
"You know full well what I'm talking about, and stop using big words such as 'condemned' around me. It hurts my head."
Grey grinned. True, he knew exactly why he was catching so much admonition from First Sergeant lately. From arguing about the difference between Federation Army and Federation Aerospace drill to not showing up to the grueling two and a half hour practices after school, Jacob Grey was simply getting on First Sergeants' nerves.
Jacob walked through the front door of the JROTC headquarters at Fleming Peninsula High School, offering the customary, "Good Morning First Sergeant!" in an obviously faked enthusiastic voice.
Almost immediately, the large, muscular bulldog replied, "Grey!" with both aggression and annoyance in his voice.
"Yes, First Sergeant?" Grey replied, ears lowering and tail sagging to the ground.
"Where have you been each afternoon?" says First Sergeant, a growl emanating from his muzzle.
I told this idiot why yesterday, Grey thought and replied rather annoyed, "I told you yesterday and the day before, First Sergeant, I have homework and the reason I have so much homework is because I'm in the AICE program."
"Then why can't you be here on Fridays?"
"I have work cleaning house for my neighbors."
At a loss of what to ask, the flustered bulldog dismissed Grey, seeking out another cadet to pick on.
After stowing his unneeded books and binders in his locker at HQ, the Husky hefts his backpack onto his shoulders and feigns a sleepy look. Stepping out of HQ, all the look did was deter his superiors from bothering him while he was working; his subordinates usually found out the hard way. One morning, with a severe lack of sleep, Grey went off on a poor Calico cat, and on that feline's first day too! Now, Jacob only offers sleepy morning greeting to any cadet who passes by while he is on his way to his job in the unit. Every morning, at around ten after six, he "teaches" all of the second and third year cadets, although all he does is put a question by test on the multipurpose board at the front of the class and allow them to answer using special remotes.
Reaching his classroom, the Husky is greeted by an almost overly cheerful, flying squirrel, Jamin Gallows. No one really knew why his fur was red. Apparently having red, "ginger" fur was a recessive gene and both of his parents were gingers. So, like playing Russian roulette with a loaded revolver, he was stuck with red fur.
"Good morning Grey!" the flying squirrel said excitedly, obviously due to the pot of coffee brewed every morning.
"Well, I have quizzes from the lessons Captain has been teaching, and later I have TIM 2.0 to sort of loosen up the cadets before school starts."
"Good choices Jamin, I still have some homework to finish, so just run those and I'll ensure everyone keeps quiet."
"Aye Chief." Replied Gallows with a formal air about him, tail still twitching from the coffee. The squirrel promptly executed an about face, and walks over to the computer terminal situated at the rear of the classroom.
Shaking his head while he walked to an empty desk, Grey mused to himself, "No wonder we're called ROTC Nazis. We march, we salute, and anyone who cares abides by regulations like the word of God."
After a straight half an hour of yelling at a group of vulpines to shut up, Grey still had no homework done. Growling to himself, ears lowered and fur prickling up on the nape of his neck, Grey packs up and leaves as Gallows finishes briefing the other cadets on upcoming unit events.
Post Merge: April 01, 2011, 06:41:15 PM
As he walked across the campus out to the cafeteria situated in the middle of the campus, Jacob regretted not bringing a jacket; the weather in Virginia gets awfully cold during these months, even for a Husky like himself. When he walked into the cafeteria, Grey savored the smell of food emanating from the serving lines and the warmth inside the building. Seeing a group of friends, Jacob set his backpack down with a thud next to them and quickly walked to the serving lines. Getting a meat biscuit and a bottle of water, his food account was automatically billed as he walks out of the recessed line, his student ID giving the computer his identification.
Walking back to the abandoned backpack, Jacob contemplated, "Why do I hang out with these people?"
There was John Austin, a mix between a Great Dane and a Chocolate Labrador. Standing at about six foot five with the size of a Great Dane and the appearance of the Lab, his ears are constantly flopped over in some obscure fashion and his glasses were consistently crooked. He probably was the most annoying of the group, displaying his own unique brand of "Nerdiness" in almost every conversation.
Then there was Lauren Octothorpe, or Wren for short. A river otter with dark red fur and glasses, she seemed to have that "smart" air about her and was always the only one to sensibly get through a political discussion with John. She wasn't a pure "ginger" otter like Gallows, her father was an odd, near black color, giving her pelt the black with a slight reddish tinge coloration.
The only other female member was Molly Links. At first glance, she would be the person you'd expect to be on the cheer squad or dance team. But no, she hung out with the AICE kids. She was both enjoyable and useful to have around. She was the "Fashion Guru" of the group, always making outfit recommendations. Wanting to break through the stereotype that lynxes are complete ditzes, she often takes papers to revise them and even type them up.
And the last member of the group, Andrew Lesaew. He was a rather tall weasel with a dark blonde fur coloring. He's considered the smartest of the group, and is often sarcastic in his remarks, often sparking flaming political debates within the group. He is also the only reason Jacob wasn't still ostracized from the AICE culture; ever since freshmen year when they were introduced to each other through an Artic Fox whom moved away the middle of sophomore year, they had been great friends to each other. They did almost everything at school together, from comparing notes to creating "Falsetto Friday" just to bug Molly.
After finally reaching the table, Jacob sat down, took a bite out of his biscuit, and listened in on yet another political debate between John and Wren.
"I'm telling you, the Republic of Asia is going to declare war on the Euro-America Alliance!"
"John, there's no need to shout. It's just an Army buildup; it's not like they intend to destroy an entire continent." retorted Wren, as she kept cool and collected.
"You have to consider the general culture of Asians. They aren't ones to give up easily." Molly chimed in, as she looked up from a recent paper of Andrew's.
"There is also the fact that we and Europe have been steadily increasing our military power for some time. Jacob, what do you think of this? You're our resident military expert." Andrew asked as if Jacob had been there the entire time.
The bell rang, signaling both the official start of the school day and for the group to go to their first of six periods, English. After everyone grabbed his or her book bags and regrouped, Jacob begins to explain his opinion, after first scratching behind his ear.
"Well, a troop buildup can mean many things. They could be preparing for war, but the close relations between each of the countries make that highly unlikely. Their leader is probably wanting to keep up with both us and the Federation of Europe. Military growth is a great way to improve the economy during these rough times. Either way, I don't see a war in the near future."
"I'm just saying, I've got a feeling that something is amiss." John said, somewhat annoyed.
"So John, what do you think of Youth-In-Asia?" Wren asked.
"I think its great. Youth in Asia is moving their nation forward."
"So... you support killing people by an overdose of sleeping drugs?" Wren asked as a wry grin grew on Grey's muzzle.
"Wait... What?!" John asked, voice cracking in confusion.
Laughing, the group walked into its English class, which was taught by a colorful parrot who had just returned from a missionary trip to the Federation of Africa.
After a full period of tangents, and segues to other tangents, the bell rang, and the group rushed to be the first out the door, which ended with Jacob Grey as the victor.
With his tail wagging and with a smug grin on his face, Jacob waited for his friends on the other side of the hallway. "Yet again, the weak peril under the strong." Grey called to his friends, with a forced masculine tone.
"Although brain often triumphs over brawn." Andrew retorted, as though he got some weird joy out of the exchange.
"If you guys would just be ready when the bell rings, that would be the case; however..."
"However, Huskies as a breed are stronger." John interjected, mocking Jacob,
"We know, we go over this every morning."
"I don't even know why you guys keep discussing this." Molly said with a hint of disgust. "Did any of you get number thirty-five?"
"Yes, I do believe that it was 'Alas, poor Yorick' " John said with the ever-prevalent tone of arrogance.
"What do you mean? That was definitely not the line closest to the play within a play." Jacob said, picking up a British accent midway through his sentences.
Joining Jacob with the accent as well, Wren continued, "It was obviously 'C', 'The play's the thing, that will grab the attention of the king.', or something like that. So are you ready for the math quiz today?"
Simultaneously replying in falsetto, Jacob and Andrew half-shout "Yeah!" while jumping into the air.
Walking into their math class, AICE Math and Mechanics, they were greeted by a somewhat portly yet enthusiastic badger named Mr. Delman. Most students thought that Mr. Delman was possibly the devil of the teachers at the school, yet his AICE M&M class actually liked him. No one could figure out why. It could just be the fact that the class shared the same enthusiasm for advanced math.
Fifty minutes and one surprisingly difficult quiz later, the bell rang and once again Grey raced out of the trailer-like classroom. Standing on the ramp leading up to the door of the classroom, Jacob noticed that no one else had stirred in the classroom, and he also noticed the lack of any other students roaming around in the hallways. Hearing the roar of an entire flight of A-Wings, sixteen fighters, overhead, a rarity in this part of Virginia, he rushed back inside the classroom with a growing look of concern on his face. Bursting in the classroom, he noticed the entire class huddled around the small television in the corner of the room. Abruptly stopping, Jacob cautiously said, "What the hell is going on?"
"See for yourself," John said stepping away from the TV with an unusually melancholy and dazed look on his visage.
Slowly walking up to the TV, Jacob saw what everyone was so somber about, and muttered a single word.
"Da**."
