Phule stirred his coffee slowly as he tried to organize his thoughts into words.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for some time,” he began, but the Gnat stopped him, holding up a restraining hand while she finished chewing and swallowing her current mouthful.
“Let me save you a little time here, Captain. It’s about my fightin’. Right?”
“Well … yes. You do seem to be involved in more than your share of … scuffles.”
“Scuffles.” The little Legionnaire sighed. “If I was bigger, they’d be called brawls. Oh well. Let me explain something to you, sir. “
She readdressed her food as she spoke.
“I was the littlest of nine kids in our family-not the youngest, the littlest. Our folks both worked and weren’t around much, so us kids were left pretty much to sort things out for ourselves, and like most kids, we weren’t big on democracy or diplomacy. If you didn’t stand up for yourself, nobody else would and you ended up at the bottom of the heap. Of course, me bein’ the smallest, I had to fight more than most just to keep my share of the grief and housework from getting too big. You know what it’s like to have a sister five years younger than you try to push you around?”
Phule was caught flat-footed by the question and groped for an answer. Fortunately none seemed to be required; as Super Gnat continued.
“Anyway, I sort of got in the habit of going for anyone who tried to hassle me. You see, when you’re my size, you can’t wait for the other person to swing first, or it’s all over before it starts. You gotta go for them first if you want to get your licks in. Even then it doesn’t always work, but at least that way you’ve got a chance.”