“See, it makes a lot of sense when you think about it,” Plundering Fang says, stretching in such a way that her arm rests against the wall just above the Pix’s head. “There’s a lot of you, right? Just scurrying around, looking for something to do together, and hey— wouldn’t you know it? Finishing the flood traps [i]is[/i] something you can do together. Is actually improved by having a bunch of girls running around and coordinating by squeaking at each other. We’d be spread too thin and we don’t really do the, uh. The squeaking and squealing.”

The Pix spokesvixen stares up at Plundering Fang with a defiant pout that is only mildly ruined by the furious blush. Some ways down the hall, her soon to be former subordinates huddle, watching with all the courage of Pix who are not within arm’s length of a Ceronian.

“What [i]we’re[/i] going to do, instead, is get ready to fight the Summerkind.” Even saying the word seems to make the hull groan. Soon this ship will be full of desperate battle. Pix and Ceronians will have to stand… well, not exactly side by side. Not if the Silver Divers have anything to do with it. “You know them? The bugs? They live, they die, they live again? You’ll want to leave that to the [i]big[/i] girls, sweetcheeks.”

“Do you forget that we [i]outnumber—[/i]”

Plundering Fang reaches out. Her fingers are gentle, the thumb indenting the cheek, the lift forcing the Pix to look Plundering Fang in the eye, rather than staring balefully at her chest. One of the Pix onlookers falls over.

“But we’re going to work together, right? Like Mosaic-Bella commanded. Unless you want her to come down here and be [i]sardonic[/i] at you… what was your name?”

Plundering Fang lifts her hand just that little bit more. The Pix lifts onto her tiptoes, her tail a stiff counterbalance.

“Marbret,” she manages.

“Well, Margret. We wouldn’t want [i]that,[/i] right? She’s very busy. And if she can keep our Alpha in line, heeled and leashed, what do you think she’ll do to a bunch of prissy little girls who think they’re too good to accept assignments, hmm? She’ll toss you right out there to be the monster’s [i]appetizer.[/i] So. [i]Margret.[/i] Are you going to be a good girl for Mosaic-Bella? Or am I going to take you to see her [i]myself?[/i]”

Snickers ring out from behind red-haired hands as Margret’s head is shaken from side to side. Then Plundering Fang spins her around.

The sound of the smack is almost louder than the sound of Margret’s yelping indignation.

“Get going, vixen. And get that tight little ass of yours to [i]work.[/i]”