“What is the Prime Tenet of every Skyfleet officer?”

The group held their tongues. Apparently, no one in their four-man band had read the introductory manual. This included even Bedrock, who in Terry’s view was the most studious.

“‘The guilt ends with you’, scary momma.”

This familiar voice came from right behind them, its tone dripping with apathy. Terry hadn’t even noticed he was there, though maybe that was because of his different outfit. He was wearing a Skyfleet uniform, though one slightly different from the others. This one was slightly bulkier, as if padded with something, and it came with a large, blue helmet.

“Benny…” Terry muttered.

"Not bad," Black said, gazing at Benny and clapping her hands, a heavy air of condescension in her tone. "Finally starting to take things seriously, huh, ensign?"

Benny nodded. “Yeah, I'ma great cool now. I'ma good.”

“You sure are, pal,” Black said sardonically. “You sure are.”

“What in the world did that mean?” Bedrock hissed quietly. “‘I’ma great cool now.’ Was that even C-Com?!”

“No, it was Bennyeze,” Terry responded moodily.

"I also believe it was a good answer, Ensign Benny Bowser," a newcomer joined in, her voice an odd mix of distinguished and gruff. "Even with the crude ‘scary momma’ addition. However, in my opinion, the actual correct answer should have been, 'honor before thyself'. Sadly, I didn’t have a say in making that."

This voice came from possibly the largest person Terry had ever seen, and the third most unusual next to Gnessia and Spot… which was saying something about the interesting week he was having. She was nearly seven feet tall, muscle stacked upon muscle. They were also of a race that Terry had never seen in person before, though unlike Spot, he did know them to be real. Wasn’t hard to figure put which race it was, either. The green skin and large tusks sticking from the bottom of her jaws made what she was immediately apparent.

"An orc," Bedrock growled in a whisper. "What in the Undershell is one of them doing here? And… wait… she’s the… the…?!"

Indeed, it was. Terry was so busy looking at their bulky form to notice she had the distinct, violet uniform. This meant only one thing.

"Well, if it isn't our illustrious leader, Captain Okara," Black snorted. "Here to see the new canon fodder in?"

"Trying to start an argument in front of the future crew," Okara said, folding their arms. "Just the amount of professionalism I'd expect with someone from your past. And for the record, orcs do not treat their subordinates as canon fodder, though any orc would gladly give their life for the greater good."

"Does the ‘greater good’ include raiding mountain holds?" Bedrock interjected.

Gnessia was currently in her whirlwind form, and her rocks began to orbit around her a lot more quickly at that; what Terry picked up as her version of extreme agitation.

"What was that?" Okara snapped, walking towards the dwarf.

"Nothing! Nothing, captain," Gnessia said, trying to save her brother.

Terry had almost forgotten that the orcs and dwarves had history. According to dwarf lore, the former's ships would often send shore parties to strike at dwarf holds buried in the snowy Northern Mountains. Mountains that happened to border an expansive, uncharted ocean to the north to them, The Endless Gulp.

***

"Even though this was centuries ago," Mrs. Holliger had said to Terry's class. "Dwarves happen to have long lives, averaging around one hundred years; and this is without modern medical technology, by the way."

"And the only thing longer than a dwarf's life is a dwarf's memory," Terry said.

“If one believes the stereotype, yes,” Mrs. Holliger said, a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

Benny leaned close to Terry with a smirk, whispering: “Wow. Did you like, write that down on your arm or something?”

“Shut up, Benny,” Terry grunted.

“There may be more to orcs than what’s shown in old dwarven texts, right, Mrs. Holliger?” Rosa peeped up. “Factions of them may have been warlike, but what about the greater whole?”

"It’s hard to say," Mrs. Holliger said. “Because unfortunately, no organized groups have been seen in centuries. We don’t even know where their homelands are, exactly, and neither do any of the individuals that have found their way to our shores. Wherever they are, they’re far beyond our horizons. Maybe one day Skyfleet will find them, and in all likelyhood, what you say will turn out to be true. It will be a chance for orcs and dwarves to reconcile. The wisdom of the dwarves is what helped led us to peace, after all; one can hope they’d take their own advice…”

She paused, looking over her class; it was clear she was starting to lose them. Even Terry had his palm against his cheek. Only Rosa seemed to really be paying attention.

“Anyway, let’s do a five minute break,” she said. “Then we’ll switch topics to dwarven economic systems!”

There was a mass groan at that. Macroeconomics was something not many teenagers were interested in. In fact, that applied to about half the things being taught in Mrs. Holliger’s class. As much as most students loved her enthusiastic teaching style, even she couldn’t always hold the attention of a bunch of sixteen-year olds.

Save for, again, for people like Rosa.

“I find it hard to believe the dwarves would hold a grudge for so long,” Rosa said to Terry. “They’re basically anti-elves. Dwarves actually learn from their history.”

“Rosa…” Terry chuckled quietly. “I don’t think the two are comparable… Ya know, given one isn’t mythology.”

“Why are you so obsessed with elves anyway?” Benny butted in.

“I’ve already told you,” Rosa said. “Norjlanders very much view elves as a real thing. We– They practically worship them. They view them and the Builders as one in the same.”

“Alright, they’re an important part of Norj religion,” Terry said. “Which is cool. I respect that. But what you’re doing is like… reverse-preaching.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosa apologized. “I don’t mean to come off like that. I just don’t think anyone - long lived or not - should be viewed as superior. Even if they were the Builders.”

“Is this another socialist thing or something?” Benny asked smarmily.

“No!” Rosa said, blushing red at being called out. “Well, okay, maybe a little bit. I suppose you could make an argument between the undeserved worship some used to have for billionaires before the profiteering arrests and–”

“Yeah, sorry I asked,” Benny yawned, obviously eager to change the subject. “So. Fifth day. You guys up for seeing the new Charlie Chipman Jokeass movie? I wanna see that guy hanging off clock tower arms prank. Bet people were freakin’ out bout it!”

***

In the present, Bedrock and Okara continued to lock eyes for a second. Given what Terry had heard about the orcs, he was half-expecting her to lash out at him - perhaps even physically - and it looked like Bedrock was expecting the same thing. However, on the contrary, Okara merely laughed before patting Bedrock on the shoulder. “We have a lot to learn from each other, master dwarf.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Black snorted, interjecting with: "Let’s start with the thousands of things her people apparently view as 'without honor’. Some examples being piracy, speaking ill of one's elders (even if they were drunken wife-beaters), piracy again, and never insulting anyone’s choice of beverage. This includes radish juice.”

"A warrior's drink," Okana said dreamily, before returning to her position next to Black and addressing the crowd. “Nevertheless, even an honorable crew can’t make up for a technically unskilled one. And that is what you’re here to do: learn your trade. Do that, and glory will follow your every footstep.”

“Thank you for repeating what I just told them,” Black groaned. “Minus the ‘honor’ and ‘glory’ crap. Now, may I get back to what I was doing so we can get this shitshow on the road?”

“By all means, commander,” Okara said stoically.

“Wonderful,” Black said. “There’s a lot we need to cover today, so no pissing around. First off: the torture session.”

Bedrock and Terry looked at each other, concerned, and Benny seemed to pick up on this. “Your feet are gonna hurt so much after this,” he said, a hint of mischief gleaming through his usual bored-sounding tone.

“Follow your student liaison for that fun time,” Black continued. “Unfortunately for you, that’ll be Molly Melatonin here.”

She pointed towards Benny, who was now positioning himself in front of the group. “Sup.”

“Have fun, children!” Black called in a mock-sweet tone, waving to them as she began walking towards the central tower. “Oh, and leave your bags on the platform. Someone will be along to collect them.”

“I know it may not seem like much,” Okara said, putting her own two cents in. “But please pay attention to orientation. You never know what bit of knowledge you may glean from it. Knowledge leads to capability and capability leads to success.”

“Wow,” Bedrock muttered under his breath. “They should put that on a minecart sticker.”

“Wah?” Terry asked.

“Dwarf thing,” Bedrock said simply.

Fortunately, Okara didn’t hear this, as she was already walking away from the group. Though before she got too far, Spot, who had been looking impatient ever since she had arrived, signaled her.

“Captain!” he called, slowly walking towards her, though without matching her swift speed. “Excuse me, captain. First of all, let me just say that it’s a great honor to–”

“As you were, cadet,” she said, signaling him dismissively. She didn’t even bother to look at him.

Spot continued to pursue her, clearing his throat. “Well, that’s um, affirmative, but my Master Hadrian told me I was going to be guarding someone. I was kind of hoping to find out– Annnnd you’re too far away to hear me now. Cool, cool. I’ll just uh– I’ll just go with the flow, then, um, until you can get back to me!”

Terry looked at Spot sympathetically. The poor cat looked utterly dejected. He wanted to place a supportive hand on his shoulder, but surprisingly, Benny beat him to it. “Don’t worry about it, dude. I’ll figure out what’s going on with you. Til then, just stick with us. They’d probably want you to go through orientation, anywho.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Spot said.

“Alright, everyone,” Benny said, addressing the group. “Drop your bags and follow me.”

Terry and the rest of the cadets did as they were told, and soon enough, Benny was leading them towards the large building at the center of campus.

Terry furrowed his brow, catching up to him. “Benny, what are you still doing here? Didn’t you graduate?"

“Hm?” Benny said, as if not hearing him completely.

Terry knew that he had, however. And after squinting in thought for a second, it finally came to him. Benny was looking for extra credit during the summer, and despite being called an ensign by the captain, he was here with the rest of them. Could he have been held back?

"Wait, don’t tell me…” Terry began.

“Nope, I graduated,” he said, shattering Terry's theory into a thousand pieces. “Only a few needed to do the repeat. There were a… few close calls in the, um, heights department, but I got through em’. Only thing is half my class didn’t get assigned a ship. Too many to fill the previous ship, not enough to fill Captain Okara’s. But once you all graduate…”

“Great…” Terry groaned.

“I volunteered to be a student liaison in the meantime,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Thought it’d be fun. And bein’ a bro to Skyfleet means you get bromoted quicker.”

Gnessia giggled at the pun. “Bromoted for being a bro! I get it!”

Benny seemed a little confused at first (probably at the notion that someone actually thought he was funny), but nonetheless, he eventually flashed her a smile. “Heh. Thanks.”

“What are you doin’ on the ship itself?” Bedrock asked, looking him over. Judging him.

“Security,” he shrugged. “Had the build for it.”

While had been slouching ever-so-slightly before, upon saying his career pick, he raised himself up to his true, somewhat intimidating form. Benny always had been a lot more physically fit than Terry. It didn’t used to be to Terry’s chagrin, but it was now. Partially because there was a time when he wanted to punch him, though he decided against it at the last second; he didn’t want to break his hand.

“Plus, I figured it’d be an easy job,” Benny said. “Just gotta harass people over not having their passports a little bit then I can go get drunk.”

“Ya’ sure you’re not already drunk?” Bedrock snarked, raising an eyebrow. “What do ya’ mean by ‘passport’? You mean like an ID?”

“Huh?” Benny blinked. “That’s what I said. Your passport.”

“But I didn’t say that, and that’s not a–!”

“This is the fox guarding the hen house,” Terry sighed. “Don’t let him draw you in, Bedrock. He’s just trying to gaslight you. It’s his thing.”

“Bro,” Benny said. “Why you so salty still?”

“Salty?” Spot said, cocking his head. “What does that mean? Like he’s been sweating? That’s a thing humans do! I know it, I’ve seen it!”

“You should lick him to find out,” Benny suggested.

“What?” Spot blinked, looking Terry over. “Ew. No. I don’t know where he’s been.”

Terry wasn’t sure whether to be offended about that.

“That won't happen," Bedrock muttered. "The cat only licks himself."

Gnessia gasped at that. “Bedrock, that’s racist!”

“He did it right in front of us!” Bedrock argued. “I’m not saying all tabaxi do it, but this one does! It was kind of awkward.”

“Bedrock!” Gnessia snapped.

Terry wasn’t sure why Gnessia had such a strong reaction… until he looked at Spot. The tabaxi’s pupils were dilated, and a sad frown was on his normally cheerful face.

“Spot?” Terry asked. “You okay?”

He blinked, glancing away from him. “I… just realized that I don’t know if other tabaxi do that or not.”

“Wow,” Benny said, glancing at Bedrock with a hint of disapproval. “You’re kind of a dick, aren’t you?”

“He can be,” Gnessia said angrily.

“I, well, uh…” Bedrock coughed.

Despite Bedrock backing down, Spot didn’t speak the rest of the walk. Instead, he kept his gaze away from the group. As they neared the door of the central tower, Terry could only guess what had hurt him so badly.

The tower itself was probably the tallest building Terry had ever set foot in by far. It loomed over him like a mighty monument before entering, and the interior was equally impressive. The lobby was nearly two stories tall, with marble arches lining the entranceway. Inside, the floors were a heavily glossed wood, glimmering from the light of two, shining orbs that appeared to be floating a few meters or so off the ground.

Terry was about to ask Bedrock what kind of technology had created those, but the dwarf appeared to be curious himself, scrutinizing them intently. Eventually he smiled, as if finding an answer.

“Interesting use for cosignius crystals,” he said. “Lil wasteful, though, if ya’ ask me.”

“You know what else is wasteful?” Benny said, not peering over his shoulder as he led them across the lobby. “Your face.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Bedrock groaned.

“Neither does your face,” Benny replied.

“Got me there,” Bedrock said, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up, Benny,” Terry sighed.

“No you.”

Before Terry could reply, Benny had already led them into a massive auditorium. Like the rest of Skyfleet Academy, it appeared built with a good mix of comfort and style in mind. The seats had red velvet cushions on each of them, and were lined in a way to give anyone anywhere a good view of the stage.

However, nobody was on said stage at the moment. Instead, a large projector screen was draped in front of it, turning the whole place into a makeshift movie theater.

Terry raised an eyebrow. This was the ‘torture’ Commander Black described? He supposed it made sense. She didn’t exactly seem the type to sit still for too long.

Speaking of sitting, there were far more seats than people, so most of the new students decided to fan out, coalescing into separate, isolated groups. Terry decided to stick with the people he already knew: center theater next to Bedrock and Gnessia. Benny, much to his annoyance, sat next to him with a smirk.

“Hey, Spot was gonna sit there,” Terry growled.

“Huh?” Benny said. “No he wasn’t.”

He pointed to the cat monk, who had taken a seat in the back of the theater alone.

“Oh,” Terry said, slumping into his seat.

Bedrock’s words must have hurt his feelings even more than he had thought. That or (as much as it saddened Terry) the monk simply didn’t grow the same bond with Terry as he felt vice-versa after their long train ride together.

Striking him out of these thoughts, the viewscreen projector activated. Terry tried to focus his attention on it as numbers counted down on the screen, each accompanied by a light ‘beep’.

‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1…’