Making a Splash in the Octoling Squadron

I woke up early in the morning in our home feeling ready to go. A spot was waiting for me in the Octoling Squadron near Tentakeel Outpost. My tentacles tingled with the thought of finally fulfilling my dream. I headed to the kitchen to prepare myself a breakfast of steamed mussels before heading back to my room to freshen up. I ironed my clothes and smoothed my tentacle afro with a towel. I had to look my best if I wanted to make a good impression on my fellow soldiers. After I was satisfied with my presentation, I knelt by my bed and thanked the great turtle in the sky for this miracle that I was experiencing today. Feeling invigorated by the prayer, I took time to prepare my supplies to be ready to go at 8:32. headed to the living room to day my farewells to my less-than-ecstatic parents who were tending to Jereef. I was aware that my mother and father were still not keen on my decision to join a rank that I was not meant to join. My folks were not the only ones who held this idea; my neighbors talk about me behind my back, likely making fun of my perceived craziness. Despite their ridicule, nothing could change the fact that I had legally signed a document confirming my approval for joining the higher ups. I would show them all my true potential, no matter my gender. With that mindset, I bowed in respect to my parents and said my farewells. Just before I left, Jereef ran up to me with tears in his eyes, telling me that he "would be lonely at home without you" and that he would miss me. I knelt down, patted his head, and assured him that I would surely return one day. I left him with a remark, "Don't ever give up on your dreams." Giving Jereef a brief wave goodbye, I marched out of our teapot-shaped home and headed towards the nearest UFO stop, leaving my little brother to wallow. Little did I know that the true reason for his despair was that I wasn't able to help him with his math homework anymore.

I positioned myself in the flying saucer when it arrived, placing myself between an Octotrooper and an Octoball. Being sentient, severed tentacles of more advanced Octarians, these octopi were generally less complex than Octolings such as myself. That being said, they were no less of people than I was, or at least that's my opinion. Most Octolings would likely think otherwise. Me and the other Octarians were relatively silent during the flight; our species wasn't known for our social life. In order to pass the time, I looked out of the windows to see our vessel quickly increasing in altitude as it zoomed past all of the building in the area. Octarian inventions truly are a sight to behold, I thought to myself, There certainly is no limit to our technological growth! This floating object was not the only advancement our innovative society had made. We had also come up with ways to levitate various objects and manufacture powerful weapons using only our ink! I genuinely felt proud to be part of the Octarian race. After about 30 minutes, the Octoball next to me said, "So where are you headed, kid?" I proudly replied, "I'm going to join the Rival Octoling training camp near Tentakeel Outpost." Immediately, all the Octarians on the UFO chuckled with belittling grins on their faces. "You? A Rival Octoling? You must be kidding," said one of the Octotroopers, "You don't even meet the basic requirements! Not to mention that only the elite of the elite can reach such a rank." I dismissed their remarks, stating "Well no matter what the norm is, I'm going to the camp regardless. If you do not agree, then you don't agree." The Octarians collectively rolled their eyes as the flying saucer continued it's flight.

Eventually, the transporter stopped at a certain location and began it's descent, landing at a sign near the Octoling training camp. I eagerly exited the UFO as it opened it's doors, fully ready to begin my life as a soldier-in-training. I triumphantly made my way to the entrance of a stadium lit up with street lights. I stepped through the gates to find a boot camp filled with various exercising areas and trials to be completed, each one looking more intimidating than the next. Near the front of the arena was an Octocommander with a beret and aviator sunglasses. He was quite tall for a severed tentacle; he was evidently more advanced than most Octotroopers. The supposed leader was busy barking orders at a group of female Octolings until I came by. Most of the young women gave me weird looks save for one, who looked rather intrigued. She had deep, dark brown skin, hot pink, curly tentacle hair, and beautiful, green eyes that peered into my soul. She looked rather distinguished, having a thoughtful and graceful demeanor. The Octocommander directed his attention towards me, yelling, "What is your business here, maggot?!" Shook by this harsh introduction, I stammered, "I-I Identify as Basstian Brine, sir I am here to enroll is this Octoling camp." I then handed him my registration papers that proved my claim. The commander looked over the documents, his face growing bewildered with surprise. "By gum," the octopus breathed, "I can't believe my eyes! I swear those administrators are off their rocker letting a worthless chump like you join us elite troopers…alright worm, you're in. But don't expect to have a good time!" I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Listen up mollusks," grunted the leader, resuming his ordering while pointing at a blackboard, "Today's the day where your training officially starts. As you can see here, I am Commander Seaban, and I will be responsible for your upbringing. I swear on my 3 hearts that at the end of my trainings you will no longer be the sad little lumps of ink that you are now. You will be Octoling Amazons….plus a man." The sergeant snapped his stick towards a diagram depicting Octolings jumping over obstacles. He looked at us, saying, "First things' first, you will be practicing your basic obstacle coursing skills. Get yourselves over there and be prepared to start. Me and the others promptly headed to the designated site. When we got there, I noticed that the challenge was the classic endurance test, complete with mud, logs, and tires hanging from ropes. It looked like quite the ordeal, but I was completely ready and confident. The Octocommander walked over to us, saying, when I blow this whistle, all of you will attempt to get to the end of this obstacle course. You had better be hasty, because any chumps who finish last will not like the outcome." With a stopwatch in one sucker and a whistle in the other, the coach blew the whistle, beginning the trial. Me and my comrades took off with vigor, giving it our all. I leaped over tree trunks, shimmied beneath iron grates, and climbed rocky walls. I had been practicing for a situation just like this back when I was living at home, strengthening my muscles and prepping my mind. As a result, this ordeal was quite easy.

As I was jumping across wooden kegs, I noticed one of the Octoling girls struggling to climb the rocky wall prior to my current section. Now I don't mean to brag, but I would consider myself to be a rather generous guy. I knew that me backtracking would spell my doom when I faced the Octocommander at the end of the obstacle course, but I simply could not resist to help a comrade in need. So I jumped all the way back to the rock wall to meet the still-struggling girl. I extended my hand toward the attendee, signaling her to grab on. Glancing at me quizzically, the girl grasped onto my hand and pulled herself up, with me providing support for her weight. When the Octoling reached the top, she stared at me, possibly trying to figure me out, before putting on a straight face and dashing away to resume the challenge. With a smile on my face, I followed suit. After a few more challenges, I found myself to be the last person to complete the obstacle course, with the lass that I had helped finishing 3rd.

I looked to my right to notice my seething squad leader, a glaring scowl on his face. "Brine," snarled the Octocommander, "May I ask what in the name of Octavio I saw you do?" I felt myself shrink under the presence of his fury, saying, "Well sir, I just saw one of my peers struggling and thou-" My leader cut me off with an upturned tentacle gesture saying that he "didn't want to hear it" before shifting his gaze towards the 3rd place contender. "And you," said the general, "You should know not to accept help from anyone when you are failing. We are a self-sustaining species, you got that Bayer?" Bayer nodded in agreement with a "yes Commander Seaban." Seaban addressed the whole group, stating, "Since our wonderful friends have wasted our time with their 'goodwill' you all will pay the price. Now drop and give me 24!" All the Octolings glared at us before carrying on with the punishment. On the other hand, the one that I saved gave me a slight smile before doing her push-ups, and I joined her in the exercise. When all of us were done with the push-ups, the boss said, "Ok slimes, head to the mess hall to nourish up. You all have 30 minutes to eat, so I had better not catch anyone arriving back here past 9:30. DISMISSED."

After the dismissal, we all headed to a set of doors to the far end of the stadium to get our second breakfast. As I stood in the line for an automatic food dispenser, the alluring Octoling by the name of Bayer approached me. "Hallo," she greeted, "How do you do?" Mildly surprised that she took the time to confront me, I replied, "I am doing just swell. What about you?" Bayer smiled, answering, "I am feeling all right, thank you for asking. I came here to ask you something: why did you decide to help me? You know that us Octarians are not supposed to show compassion to each other." I did indeed know of this fact; our specie's culture was taught at a young age to be independent. "That is true," I retorted suavely, "However I feel that it is alright to make an exception just this once. You deserve it." As I headed towards the food machine to pour myself a bowl of slug soup," Bayer continued, saying, "I hope that you are aware that you are quite literally the only male here. As such, you will likely be shunned by the others, including the commander. Seeing as how we both got off to a bad start here, would you be against starting an alliance? I could help you get by in this harsh environment." I was so caught off guard by this proposal that I forgot to account for the heat of the serving that I had retrieved, and I almost spilled the soup from the shock. As I regained my composure, I responded, "Are you being serious? You want to start a partnership with me?" Bayer nodded solemnly, answering, "Indeed. I do believe that we would both benefit from this deal. It's not everyday that I come across a person like you; you're special among Octolings. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?" I was elated to accept this opportunity to combine my brilliant mind with hers, for such a partnership would surely lead to good results. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea Bayer," I consented, "I accept your offer." Bayer smiled lightly, saying, "That's fortunate. Let us stay in touch and grow as comrades in tandem! By the way, you can call me Emma." Following that conversation, I waited for my newfound ally to get her food and we both sat down at a table to discuss our plan further.

After filling up, me and the rest of our squadron headed back to our commander's site to resume our training. "Right then," yelled Seaban, "Now that we got the preliminary exercise out of the way we can move on to the main course of your training." A nearby Octotrooper supplied us all with ink tanks that we attached to our backs, allowing our ink sac organs to feed purple liquid into the tanks. Commander Seaban motioned to an array of weapons, including but not limited to a classic Octoshot, a powerful Octo Roller, and a simple looking Octobrush. The figurehead turned back to us, stating, "Go ahead and choose the weapon that you feel speaks to you. Choose wisely, because you will stick with that weapon for the rest of your training." I had my eyes on the stocky looking Octo Slosher, as it's simple but effective ink-launching power would prove to be useful. Before I could nab it, another Octoling managed to get to it first. No matter, I thought, I'll just grab this Octo Brella. It's shield could be nice to use. Alas, that weapon was taken as well. Finally, I attempted to claim the Octoshot, hoping to at least get a beginner friendly weapon. Unfortunately, that option was also stripped from my grasp, and by that point all my peers had left me with one option: the primitive looking Octobrush. I was annoyed at this outcome, for I knew that the Octobrush did not possess the range of most other weapons, making it a liability in long-distance battles. That being said, I was determined to make the most of my circumstances. I grabbed the Octobrush and did a few practice swings to get the hang of it. It didn't feel too bad. I then filled a tube with ink and attached it to my brush as a power source.

Once we had all chosen our weapon, Commander Seaban instructed, "Now that you all are set, I want you to do some target practice." He drew our eyes toward a site in the camp with paths of purple ink and platforms riddled with wooden test dummies reminiscent of our long-time enemies the Inklings. These features all combined to simulate a classic battlefield likely meant to test our skills. All of us instinctively converted the color of our ink to match so that we would not accidentally splat each other as we prepared ourselves for the upcoming examination. "Listen up," commanded Seaban, "Your task is to utilize your surroundings effectively in order to break as many targets as you can. I only want to see ink destroying these dummies, and no physical attacks will be allowed. If you manage to break enough objects will be rewarded badges. Badges can be used to raise your grade in this group provided you have an adequate amount. My good friend here will be monitoring you all." On cue, an Octocopter flew in from behind Seaban, a camera fixed into it's propeller headgear. "Now then," Seaban continued, "Let me give you a demonstration of how to dominate in the battlefield." Following that statement, our leader retrieved a sort of ink-based Gatling gun from his side and positioned himself atop his mechanical Roomba. He positioned his mouth into an opening at the back of the gun and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, a flurry of ink shot out from his weapon toward a clutter of targets 50 feet away! Me and my coworkers were stunned by this miraculous display, our jaws dropped in awe. Seaban chuckled proudly, saying, "Do you see that? Now that's some real firepower. Now you weaklings have a standard to reach. Get to it!"

Immediately me and the others ran to the battlegrounds to splat away. Emma, who had chosen a Blaster, was destroying clusters of targets effortlessly with her exploding shots. Somewhere else, an Octoling was rolling over dummies with her Roller. Surprisingly, I actually enjoyed using the Octobrush; it was relatively lightweight compared to most melee weapons, so I was able to swing fast and strong as waves of ink splashed toward my goals. I had also discovered that I could move towards other objectives faster by running with the bristles of my brush on the floor, as the ink at the tip provided reduced friction for faster travel. You know what, I mused, Maybe the short range of this brush isn't too bad. Range is irrelevant when it comes to quickly destroying targets! I must say, I did have fun during that practice. I really began to enjoy the novelties of the Octobrush despite my previous biases. Time flew by quickly, and before I knew it all of the Inkling targets were demolished, as indicated by the Octocopter buzzing a horn.

"Adequate job ladies," approved our commander, "Most of you did great. Now let's watch the replay, shall we?" A giant TV stationed on the stadium's wall began to display a recording of our squadron's work. I noticed how good my peers were performing, smashing the dummies with relative ease, making shooting shots seem such a breeze. I observed myself on the camera, acknowledging that my act was not too shabby either. Once the presentation was over, a final score was displayed. I saw that I had gotten in 5th place, just behind Emma. For me to get such a high place was thanks in part to my extensive mobility. 1st, and 2nd place belonged to an Octoling wielding a Roller and Emma respectively. "Well would you look at that," exclaimed Seaban, "Our newest rookie actually did great! You don't see that that often…" I felt a warm feeling in my chest at my first acknowledgement in some time. Another Octotrooper granted the top contenders a number of badges, with me earning 2, Emma earning 5, and the top Octoling earning 8. I was satisfied with all my training at home paying off, allowing me to prove my skills in this place. "Don't get too cocky, slobs," growled Seaban, "This is only the beginning of your training. It only gets worse from here." For the rest of the day, me and my fellow Octolings endured many more grueling exercises that would break the minds of any common person. However, I saw these exertions as beneficial as they would only assist is my quest to become the best soldier that I could be.