Orcs are not, by nature, an introspective bunch. They are instinctively Aristotelian rather than Platonist--what matters is what you do, not what you think or feel or claim to feel. Action is preferable to contemplation. So Betty didn't try to look within herself to see if she was good or evil as an orc.
Instead, she went out to explore what the institution she had been living in for years looked like under the new order. And when she left her room the first thing she encountered was a terrified mouse-girl, partially engulfed by some sort of snake creature. With a shout Betty put her sword through the monster. The mouse-girl screamed as she was caught in its death-writhings. "Hold still!" shouted Betty, as she managed to extract the mouse-girl, terrified but unharmed except for a few bruises, from the dying snake thing.
"Betty?" said the mouse-girl.
"Yes." grunted the orc.
"You're an orc?"
"You gotta problem with that?"
"No! I mean thank you, that was awesome! I was Joe, you know, the orderly. I don't know who that was." she gestured at the snake.
Betty laughed. Joe had been a mountain of a man, able to pick Betty out of her bed and place her on the chair in what seemed like one effortless motion. Now she was a trembling little mouse girl, and Betty was an orcish warrior. I'm not killing her or making her suffer or trying to scare her, Betty thought, I'm not a savage, evil, merciless orc. She felt a great sense of relief.