Flytrap completely agrees with that statement, but because of Mitch's words, he holds his tongue, or whatever Florans use to talk. Flytrap has to grin at this.
"Well, ah, you see, I'm not a private, actually...and I don't actually, uh, report to you. Just so, you're, uh, aware."
Opia shrugs off the useless conversation and creakily stands up from her spot on the floor. She walks to a seat and sits down, dagger still unsheathed.
"YOU DO NOW LIEUTENANT." Flytrap falls over too, so does everyone except for Erebus and Opia who are seated, actually.
Claude catches himself before finding a seat near the loud, annoying human. "Well, uh, no, actually, I still, uh, don't. But that was, uh, my rank, so, you know, atleast you got, uh, that right."
The sword misses Flytrap's leg only because he has fallen. He rises, draws one of his own blades, and puts the tip to Nalumi's throat. "Never do that again."
Flytrap moves the blade to deflect Nalumi's, then steps back to take a seat. "This is not worth the effort." He sets the sword down.
"That's nice, uh, human, but my planet isn't, uh, affiliated with your, um, army. Nor am I, a, uh, citizen of any of your territories. But I will, uh, help you, if you want. I'm just, not, uh, your underling."
Nalumi is still a little freaked out by Dwight but is glad she has someone who will agree with everything she says.
Claude sighs. He didn't know these people at all, but he did lead -and love- a military life. "Yes, sir. If I may be pardoned, I'll be running maintenance on the engines, and, uh, such things." Claude remains seated until being excused.