[ WP ] It was either my life or hers . Unfortunately she chose mine .

# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) 
 
 The man went flying through the glass window, the thin panes shattering into a thousand pieces as he impacted against it. He landed in an ungainly sprawl, the stench of cheap whiskey reeking off him. Another figured spilled out of the bar's front door, a sleeve of his denim jacket was slashed, and the flesh beneath it bleeding. In his hand was a knife wet with his blood, the tip a brilliant scarlet. He took one glance at the weapon before throwing it backwards at the swaying door. It sunk itself deep into the thick wood, the helt buzzing like an angry wasp as he paced towards the reeling drunk before him. 
 
 The drunk tried to stand, spitting bloody saliva and perhaps a bit of tooth onto the street. The other figure had murder in his eye and swung his booted foot as if aiming at a football. The heavy steel-toed boot connected with the drunk's skull with a thick thunk, the already listing man toppling backwards like a sack of wet rice to sprawl in the filthy street. The other man lashed out again, felt ribs give way under his blow. He was prepared to kick again, this time aimed at the moaning man's temple when he felt arms reach around to pins his at his side. 
 
 `` Stop it, Luke! You'll kill him!'' 
 
 Captain Lucas Singleton Terry snarled in exasperated rage. 
 
 `` That's the fucking idea, Cornelia,'' he said, and tried to stomp on the man's face when a fourth figure appeared. 
 
 `` Please do n't, Captain!'' 
 
 At that he checked himself, the fury in his eyes momentarily vanishing. He turned his head to see a young girl no more than twenty staring at him with hazel eyes full of worry. Terry exhaled slowly, more like steam engine releasing pressure than a man before nodding slowly. 
 
 `` Let go, Lieutenant. I wo n't hurt him... more.'' 
 
 He jerked his arms free of his second in command's grasp and knelt down to pilfer through the drunk's jacket. A small wad of Kroners appeared in Terry's hand which he tossed through the broken window. 
 
 `` Sorry about the mess.'' 
 
 The two women were quick to usher him away, flanking him as if to protect curious passerbys from any outbursts. 
 
 `` Just what the hell was that?'' Lieutenant Cornelia Snow asked. 
 
 Captain Lucas Terry winced as the adrenaline left his system, and the firey pain from his wound filtered through. 
 
 `` He pulled that fucking blade on me; he escalated it.'' 
 
 Snow sighed with a long suffering air and steered him towards a waiting hovercar. 
 
 `` But who started it I wonder?'' 
 
 At his guilty silence she laughed bitterly. 
 
 `` Figured as much,'' she said. 
 
 `` Why'd you ever get into a fight?'' Mira asked. She was busy tearing a sterile bandage out of its plastic, and wrapping around his wound as she spoke. 
 
 `` Looked at me funny,'' was all Terry had to say easing himself into the passenger seat. The teenage Mira ducked in behind him as Lieutenant Snow took the wheel. The younger woman spied her commanding officer fiddling with something, a wedding band strung on a ball chain next to his dog tags. Before she could ask the Lieutenant cut her off with a look, silently mouthing the words, 
 
 *'' Later. `` * 
 
 So Mira kept her tongue and instead looked out the window as the hovercar pulled away, leaving the wounded drunk to be helped by his comrades.
