Ridley made her way to the loading bay where Bru-haha worked. As she approached, she began to swagger instinctively—this was her territory, after all. The orcs parted respectfully, nodding as she passed. The past two weeks had been eventful as Ridley and her team integrated the orcs into the workflow.

  “Hey! Put your gloves on when using the box knife!” Ridley shouted at an orc with a broken tusk, wondering briefly if she had caused the injury.

  The orc grunted in Orcish, retrieving gloves from his pocket. As he struggled to put them on, his massive hands and sharp nails tore through the fabric. Ridley had previously suggested to Alexander that the orcs could use their nails to cut boxes, but he had responded in typical managerial fashion.

  “Rules do not exist to make things easier. They are there to reduce liability.”

  The orcs’ deference to Ridley stirred a sense of responsibility in her. As one of the few human workers remaining on the evening shift—and having defeated over thirty orcs in combat—she felt compelled to guide them. The Orc Chief held a grudging respect for her, even attempting to pair her with his best warriors—though whether for sparring or marriage, Ridley couldn’t say. The two seemed to overlap a lot when the orcs talked about it.

  Alexander had begun to genuinely need her help when it came to controlling the orcs. Her most successful idea was installing a theater system for them. Alexander and Susan had jumped on the idea of providing entertainment to hold their attention. Initially, she had tried sharing her favorite anime, but Alexander swiftly intervened, citing the need for “proper public performance licenses, blah blah blah…” Instead, he arranged for movies with easier licensing, and Ridley insisted on including Star Wars. The orcs took an immediate liking to it, and Alexander scheduled it as a weekly post-shift viewing.

  Searching for Bru-haha, Ridley learned he was in the break room. There, she found him and another orc performing a skit for their peers. Bru-haha wore a cardboard mask with menacing eyes and waved a hook rod.

  “No, I am your father!” he declared dramatically.

  The orc playing Luke was making a face showing how terrified he was. Skipping some of the borish dialogue, Bru-haha swung the hook rod at his arm. The other orc clutched his hand, emitting a mocking high-pitched squeal. The room erupted in laughter and began chanting, “Vader! Vader!” as Bru-haha raised his arms triumphantly. His popularity among the orcs had made him an ideal candidate for training, enabling him to assist in onboarding others. He wore a clip-on earring enchanted by Alexander so he could talk to the normies who still worked at Congo.

  As Ridley approached, the orcs’ tone shifted to whispers of “Melka-ret, Melka-ret,” a term Ridley's earring translated as “Red Fury”—a battle name the orcs had given her. Ridley considered it the best nickname she’d ever received.

  “Hey, Bru! Alexander wants to talk to you,” she called.

  “Mighty Wizard summons me? I shall follow, Little Fury,” Bru-haha replied. Ridley didn’t mind the “little” moniker, given the orcs’ average height of around seven feet.

  En route, snarls bordering on roars echoed from the loading docks, audible over the constant hum of conveyor belts. Ridley and Bru-haha detoured to investigate. As expected, a group of orcs had formed a circle around two fighters. One, grappled from behind, shouted, “ICT TAR MASHO LAST JEDI!” punctuating it with an elbow to his opponent’s face. The other, black blood dripping from his nose, retorted, “ISH MOLO! ISH BENKA!” while adjusting his chokehold.

  Bru-haha pushed through the crowd, bellowing, “MANTE MELKA-RET TRELO YOL MOLO!” At the mention of Ridley’s name, the orcs turned to her, and the fighters separated, muttering apologies in Orcish.

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  “Bru, take down their names and write them up,” Ridley instructed.

  “They not much care, Little Fury. They not want… promotions…”

  “I’ve noticed that, so I came up with a new idea. Unofficially, they’re banned from movie nights for two days,” Ridley declared. Groans rose from the offenders, who understood Ridley through her own translating earring. That evening’s feature, 300, was a favorite, with orcs laughing uproariously at scenes of impalement, beheading, and mutilation. After the first screening, several had climbed onto the roof of the building, reenacting scenes by kicking friends off the roof ledge while shouting, “THIS IS CONGO!”

  Ridley wondered how they’d react to actual comedy. She had considered showing them the rabbit scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Then again, she remembered murderous rabbits might exist in their world. She added it to the watchlist for future consideration.

  Returning to Alexander, Ridley saw him scribbling on a yellow notepad with “pros” and “cons” at the top. The “pros” column dominated, extending halfway down the page. He turned in his chair as they approached.

  “Bru-haha, thank you for joining us. I'm going to get straight to the point. You have proven immensely helpful these past two weeks, and your popularity among the orcs is a valuable asset to our company,” Alexander commended the orc. “Susan and I have decided to appoint you as a manager’s assistant. This role includes no pay raise but grants blue stripes on your safety vest—a mark of distinction.”

  “Bru-haha is grateful, Mighty Wizard,” the orc replied.

  “Ridley, you are also offered this promotion,” Alexander continued. “You have done an excellent job ensuring the orcs follow safety protocols, and your influence over them has been noted. I’m proud of your commitment to Congo’s safety.”

  “Wow! Thanks!” Ridley exclaimed.

  “…without a pay increase,” Alexander said quickly under his breath. “I’ve also acquired a scroll that will enhance my communication with you, Bru-haha. This will help you adapt to your new role and take on additional responsibilities. With your charisma and new intelligence, I’m confident you’ll excel.”

  “Bru-haha is grateful, Mighty Wizard,” the orc repeated.

  “Yes… so, do you accept?” Alexander asked.

  “Does Bru-haha get to help choose movies?” the orc inquired.

  “That could be an added responsibility if you wish,” Alexander replied.

  “Then Bru-haha accepts! I become more powerful than Chief!” Bru-haha roared, his face contorting into a terrifying expression Ridley recognized as his laugh. Initially alarming, she had grown accustomed to it, though the few remaining HR staff muttered nervously after being startled.

  Alexander extended the scroll to Bru-haha, but as he did so, a red screen popped up before him.

  “Well, that’s odd,” Alexander said, thinking aloud.

  “What?” Ridley asked.

  Alexander explained the red screen before him.

  Warning: You are about to form a contract with a being from another system. Your loyalties might not be aligned to the same world. Proceed?

  “Well, Daryl and Podry did say that the system has war skirmishes between worlds, and this guy did come here to take territory from us,” she said, pointing at Bru before dragging her thumb across her throat at him with a smile.

  Bru-haha grabbed his throat and pretended blood was squirting out with his gruesome-looking smile. He was more like a little brother than a seven-foot-tall muscly murder machine.

  Alexander thought back to the unknown part of the item description. Then he looked up at Bru-haha and his affable nature.

  “It’s worth it. Bru-haha has proven himself to be an asset to this company, and I would be glad of his assistance,” Alexander said with a nod.

  Everybody just liked the big scary teddy bear of an orc.

  Ridley nodded in agreement, not seeing any harm in bringing Bru to team Earth—the whole group was already subdued by Alexander.

  Bru-haha pretended to wrap a bandage around his neck and tied it off with a wink at Ridley. Fake blood staunched, he reached out and touched the extended scroll.

  Bru-haha was startled as he looked at a floating screen that the others couldn’t see before he smiled and said, “I accept this power.”

  Ridley felt a little shiver down her back as he did.

  The scroll burst into a shower of sparks that swirled around their heads—the lights danced for a moment before driving into the orc’s head. The orc cried out in pain before falling backward. Ridley caught him and laid him down.

  As his cries cut off, he laid there unconscious. Ridley looked down the hall of cubicles and saw a dozen employees trying to run out the door in fear.

  “HEY!” Ridley screamed. “It’s just magic stuff! Get back to work!”

  The crowd shuffled slowly back to their cubicles. They were constantly on edge lately, the wimps.

  Alexander nodded at Ridley. “You know what, I might push for your raise sooner…”