She remembers her training.
One, two, three, and always pushing. Grunting, punching, kicking. Always striving to be the best. And she was. She was the best, and she still would be, if only... But peacekeepers don't feel regret, they don't feel these stupid inferior emotions, and she concentrates on her form.
One, two, three, and her leg strikes out in a perfect arc.
She keeps her breathing steady. Perfect. Her muscles taut and always at the ready.
She remembers her training and falters, if only for a microt. Steadies herself. She is a peacekeeper.
She strikes. She does not fall.
*fin.
[once more into the fray]