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Kitaru Hirano | “And The Man In The Back Said Everyone Attack”

Posted on 2016-08-06 15:01 by Lieutenant Commander Kitaru Hirano Ph.D

Mission: Black, White & Red All Over
Location: Rure Penthe

“You should leave those children alone”

“Step away punk, or you’re next,” the troglodyte of a human, dressed in furs and rags and stinking of stale sweat and the slop they’d been fed for dinner, turned around at the voice from behind.

He grinned, a manic grin as his stained teeth grinded together. “What are you even going to do blind man, get back to your hole.” He laughed before rounding back to the two terrified children pinned against the ice wall of the frozen hell they’d all found themselves in.

Rura Penthe, a nightmare for some, a cesspit, a law unto itself. The Klingon guards didn’t care what happened on the inside, to that end it was like the lawless wild west. No one escaped, sure there had been stories but in these parts that’s all they were. Stories.

“Please…” one of the children stammered through the silent tears. Each droplet hit the ground like a thundering echo to the blind man who lowered his head. He knew he should be keeping a low profile, stepping out of line without The Gul’s say so would be dangerous. But, he couldn’t let this happen.

“All that cryin’ gunna get you hurt,” the troglodyte laughed as he cracked his knuckles and pulled a long splinter of ice off the roof of the cave they’d been cornered in. It was away from the bunks, away from the guards, they were alone. Save for the blind man who breathed deeply.

“They are just children; they have done nothing to you.”

“It’s called sending a message blind man, does The Gul know you’re stepping out… if you go now I won’t tell him. These brats need to be taught a lesson… they stole from me.”

“The Gul… sent me,” the blind man lied.

“Bull… look I’ve had enough of you, preaching your crap about prophets and mystical voodoo. Why don’t I teach you a lesson first…” he turned and faced the blind man.

It was hard to tell the blind man's physique under the layers of robes and furs that he’d got to keep warm. His boots were tatty, clothing dirty. His hair was long and matted, the facial hair not much better. Around his eyes were tied a dirty white rag. The troglodyte laughed. “How’s the view…”

The blind man wrinkled his nose, enhancing the creases of his distinctive Bajoran ridges. “That I could not tell you, but the stench of evil is strong.”

“Stench of…” the troglodyte was getting angry, riled. No amount of talking or persuasion was going to work here. He’d only win this one way. The blind man dropped his makeshift stick to the floor and stood ready, slowing his breathing and remaining silent to hear everything. Every detail.

The troglodyte shifted his weight onto his back foot, the crunching of the snow and ice underfoot gave that away. His breathing more rapid.

“Children, run” the blind man said.

Doing as they were told they scurried off as quickly as possible into another part of the frozen hell prison.

“Wrong move blind man”


The troglodyte let out a loud bellow and hurled himself at the blind man, sending both to the floor. The blind man felt the cold ice against his head as he tumbled to the ground. His head was jerked to the right as a punch landed square on one side of his jaw, then another sending his head in the other direction. He could taste blood. He didn’t want to fight, but it looked like there was no choice.

He punched upwards landing a hit in the troglodyte’s temple dazing him and giving the blind man enough traction to push him off, swing his leg around and land a kick in his face, flattening him to the ground. As the blind man stood up, he readied himself again, listening for every detail.

As he did he heard approaching footsteps, more goons of this petty animal no doubt.

“Alright boss?”

“Get him!” yelled the troglodyte from the floor.

The blind man triggered something that lurked behind the rags covering his eyes, he fought the tremendous pain that seared through his body and didn’t flinch from his ready position.

Three additional assailants, all behind him. Gorn, Klingon, Caitian. The Gorn was coming first with a waist grab. Seconds later the Gorn lunged and the blind man side stepped, now off balance the Gorn stumbled and the blind man lept up and kicked him in the back, sending him to the floor.

Bolian, shiv to the shoulder.

As the attack happened the blind man ducked, grabbed his attackers outstretched arm with one hand and swung him until he was side on. Once in position he forcefully pushed his other hand through his elbow joint cracking it against the direction it bent until the bone pierced the skin. The yell was deafening. With one motion the Bolian was on the floor nursing the broken arm and both the troglodyte and Gorn were back on their feet.

The troglodyte was going to swing, probably still concussed.

The swing came, and the blind man leaned backwards just in time to avoid it as the punch hit the Gorn square in the jaw. Kicking his leg out the blind man made contact with the Gorn’s ankle sending him stumbling backwards giving the blind man enough time to perform a butterfly twist and land a kick, mid-air, to the Gorn’s chest knocking him backwards, into a rock spearing him in place.

The troglodyte was going to charge again.

Before anything could happen the blind man was sprinting, leaping into the air and landing both his feet in the troglodyte’s chest before grasping his neck with his ankles and twisting until there was a satisfying snap.

Crouching down in a landing pose the blind man was breathing heavy. This was too long. Should never be used for this long. Despite the icy temperatures beads of sweat were running down the forehead of the blind man and soaking into the rags. Around his eyes. The Caitian hadn’t moved.


The Caitian was going to poun…

Before he could complete the thought the Caitian had attacked, clawing at the blind man’s face, causing blood to drip and stain the snow beneath their feet as he staggered backwards. Another pounce and kick and the blind man fell backwards into the cave wall. He needed a boost. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the heavy furs, revealing dirty black robes beneath. The Caitian was laughing.

“I’ve been studying your moves blind man… impressive… but you’re just not fast enough,” she called out with glee as she pounced again, clawing at his chest and knocking him to the ground. The blind man breathed heavily, he needed a boost. Another searing burst of pain radiated from his eyes through his entire body, numbing the pain from the fighting wounds.

She was going to pounce again, claw at his jugular.

He rolled out of the way as the Caitian fell into the wall, she growled and turned, just as a punch landed in her jaw. The blind man slid forward, blocking her centre space and stretched his arm hitting her chest, grabbing her neck and pushing her down over his leg and onto the floor in one flawless move.

“My fight is not with you. Run.” The blind man warned.


Releasing the choke hold he got up and turned his back on her.

She wasn’t going to run.

From the floor he reached down for his stick as she charged, spinning around and lowering his body closer to the floor he raised the stick upwards at the right moment for her weight to bore down, impaling herself. The cry was loud enough to alert someone nearby before her body fell limp. If anyone nearby cared. People died in Rura Penthe all the time. These three were no special case. Not that any witnesses would be believed a blind man had taken them all down.

He removed his stick allowing the Caitian’s body to fall, retrieved his furs and panting heavily returned to his bunk. The device had been deactivated and not a moment too soon. The nausea kicked in as he proceeded to vomit just outside the bunks. Staggering to his bed he collapsed, and breathed deeply, focusing on the will of the prophets and the sound of his laboured breathing. The pain would subside. The will of the Prophets would prevail. He would survive. He always did. It was getting worse though, with each use.

“You used it again didn’t you,” a small voice said from above him.



“If you did not want me to use it, you would not have landed yourself in here and fitted them.”

“It’s for emergencies, for the mission,” the voice hissed.

“By the Prophets, I could not let those children suffer.”

“I know… but what if you’d been seen?”

“It is not easy to show the way to a blind man.”

“Cut the mystic crap,” the voice retorted.

He heard scuffling, before two feet hit the ground. Then a movement on his bunk. She’d climbed down.

“How are you feeling?”

“I will be ok. You should not have come.”

“Couldn’t leave you in here defenceless after the…”

“Vicious attack.” The blind man finished her sentence and turned his head to where he believed the voice was coming from.

“Incident that got you in the inner circle.” She finished. “Overwatch wanted you to be ready. Still, The Gul trusts you now…” her voice trailed off.

“You should not have come.” He repeated.

“Orders are orders.”

He sighed. “Have you spoken to him yet?”

“How can I, I’m in here with you.” She lowered her voice.

“You have not seen or spoken to your brother since you ran away from home. Family is important.”

“Look, Overwatch, Starfleet, no one knows who I am. I want to keep it that way. Just for now. Ok?”

“Ok... Verity.”

“Thank you. Try and get some rest Kit, tomorrow is another day.”

With that the woman and voice was gone and he was left alone with his thoughts.

“Another day indeed.”

=/\= End Log =/\=

Kitaru Hirano
"The Blind Man"


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