A/N. I apologize for being so late with the next chapter, but I have a reasonable excuse - had lost my job. My design organization was suddenly liquidated even without any wage compensation. Then for four months I was searching for a new job and at the same time was working at home. Had to time not only for translation - was so exhausted and tired that had no will to watch movies or TV-shows in the evening, and this is absolutely abnormal for me, crazy movie fan :). After a few job interviews I started working in a construction company and after three months of probation period they took me on to the staff. And all this time I had soooo many tasks to do! But rush job can't last forever and now I have some free time for my Piett :).
Chapter 4
According to the order delivered by the deeply insulted and angry grand-moff, lieutenants strongly grasped Piett's arms and convoyed him out of the conference hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Piett saw confused face of shocked and perplexed Needa. Nobody else paid any attention to what was happening to him - if Navy captain is guarded from the Imperial anniversary, then there is a serious reason for it.
Piett, of course, could offer resistance to Tarkin's adjutants, could loudly express the objection so that a few accidental eyewitnesses of his factually arrest, who were standing right near the door that was leading to the terrace, could find out that an injustice is happening. But he had neither energy nor wish to do something. He only wanted to stay alone.
Adjutants convoyed him to the landing platform and demanded a transport from security guards. Then they handcuffed Piett and rudely forced him into the flyer.
All the way to the naval base Piett kept silence, steadily looking at his handcuffed - like he is some criminal! - hands. His head was completely empty; not a single idea about things that happened on that terrace, although he understood that he must be now raging with indignation and suffering bitter mortification. It astonished him a little - but nothing more. He felt like his whole being was frozen and petrified and he had no ability to feel anything anymore, as if a huge dose of the strongest anesthetic was injected in his heart and soul. Probably the pain will come later, he was thinking torpidly while their flyer landed on and he with his guards moved along the wide corridor. Let the pain come. Now he does not care.
Shortly after a heavy plastisteel door slammed behind his back. Piett slowly looked round a small square cell, then sat on the plastisteel bunk and wearily reclined to the wall, rubbing his wrists that were numbing after the handcuffs.
Everything is over. Awkward and stupid tragicomedy named "Fate gives Firmus S. Piett an unexpected gift" ended at last. In spite of his officer rank guards took away his documents and put him in a miserable doghouse as if he is a pathetic ensign. Now he should wait until Tarkin will think up a severe punishment. It will happen - he casted a glance at his wristwatch - in five or six hours; unlikely that grand-moff lefts the Imperial anniversary and starts to shape his destiny immediately, even though he was very, very angry and indignant.
It is interesting there will be a court-martial and what he will be accused of, Piett thought. Of course, he will be immediately expelled from the General Staff - it is obvious. And the sentence depends on the gravity of accusation; everything can end up too badly, especially if remember the wrath and hatred that were flaring in grand-moff's eyes.
But why Ignis gave him a slap in the face? If he was so unpleasant to her, why didn't she pushed him away straight after he touched her? Why didn't she said - captain, stop it right now and get away from me?
No. It is enough. Stop!
He tried to break the train of his thought.
Do not think about that unfortunate terrace. About those kisses. Do not think about anything at all.
Why the soul numbness that he had during the way here vanished so quickly?
Piett sullenly groaned - he felt angry with himself, with untimely arrived grand-moff with his companions, with all this crazy evening - and fisted the plastisteel bunk. Acute pain brought him a little to his senses. He hunched, took his head in hands, harnessed all his willpower and tried to focus on the unfinished report concerning Chandrila disorders. Apparently he will not submit it, but maybe he can be able to abstract himself from the situation for a while.
Alas. Frankly it did not worked at all. Piett screwed face into a smile - he did not had a chance to become an exemplary Imperial officer. As it turned out, he is simple-hearted and naive fool, who thought that something wonderful happened in his steady, boring and monotonous life...
Time hung heavy. Piett was nervously pacing the cell, then sat back on the bunk and continued his bitter thoughts. He felt angry to himself, to his own weak will, because he could not calm down and compose features.
After an hour, a headache started to torment him. Not very strong, but quite unpleasant pulsation in his hindhead foreshowed that the worst feelings are already close. After some time Piett lied down on the hard and uncomfortable bunk and closed his eyes. He could see the harsh white light even through the lids. He closed his eyes tight and prepared for gloomy thoughts but suddenly someone put the crimp in a scheme.
Plastisteel door clanged and opened. Piett raised himself upon an elbow in astonishment, wondering who knows that he is here, under the arrest.
On the threshold stood Tagge and two Army lieutenants.
Piett sat. Brigadier general was the last man he would like to see. Tagge looked at him silently with a grim expression on his face, and Piett started to have a bad feeling about his visit. This feeling came true very quickly.
"Captain Piett, I hope you already began to realize your mistake?", very calmly asked Tagge; Piett involuntarily feeled uncomfortable and suddenly tensed.
"What do you mean?"
"Let's start from the fact that you are not reduced to the rank and must stand up in the presence of a ranking officer."
Piett stood up from his bunk and in superlatives obediently sprang to attention.
"Now, general, would you be so kind to explain what a terrible mistake I did?"
"I don't like when somebody touches something or anobody that belongs to me," Tagge balefully narrowed eyelids.
"Oh, you mean Ignis Tarkin, right? Well, I thought that slavery is already eradicated in our great Empire, except the hard-to-reach places of the Galaxy, like the Hutt sector", after a second halt Piett said.
"You grasp quite quickly, but still not quickly enough," Tagge nodded in approval. "Now listen very carefully, captain. If some day you will dare to come close to my fiancee or even touch her with a little finger, you will live to regret it."
Ah, that's the truth of it, Piett thought. He was in vain trying to mortify the wave of bitter disappointment. Everything is absurdly simple - lady Tarkin just decided to stroke her ego before wedding and for the last flirt with a first comer.
"I had no idea that she is somebody's fiancee and much less your fiancee", Piett answered icily. "I've already apologized once and now repeat it, personally for you. I suppose, this misconception is over now?"
"Not really," Tagge gave him a grating smile. "You must digest the lesson to a nicety."
He turned his head a little to the lieutenants, who were still waiting near the door. They - as if received a signal - came closer and seized by Piett's arms, and he immediately understood with a desperate certainty that they will beat him. And, unfortunately, didn't made a mistake.
Tagge deliberately slowly came closer, and Piett very clearly saw a joyful anticipation in his eyes. He didn't tried to escape from the grasp - lieunenants were taller and heavier; with only one he could try to deal with, but against two of them and plus Tagge, who was also a man of strong frame, he has not the ghost of chance.
Brigadier general in a deadpan manner looked down on Piett for some moment and then fetched a wipe right in the coeliac plexus. Piett gasped and doubled over from a sharp pain, but lieutenants quickly made him straighten. Piett was trying to start breathing again, when Tagge stepped back, as if he was enjoying the result, and then hit again, in the same place. Now lieutenants for some reason released Piett's hands and he collapsed on the floor. He instinctively pulled his knees to the stomach, protected head and chest with hands and, breathless and bent double with pain, was waiting for continuation. Everything was swimming before his eyes; he dimly saw highly polished boots in front of him. Waves of strong nausea were hitting him. From somewhere Piett heard voice of the brigadier general:
"No, it won't do. Lift him and hold properly!"
Lieutenants grasped him again and rudely raised up, but he could not stand - had rubbery legs.
"Captain, you are a mollycoddle! Feel seedy because of only a couple of beats?" Tagge mockingly grinned.
Piett pulled himself together and in a suppressed voice said what he thinks right now about a valiant, who decided to get even with the help of two assistants.
"Alas. You still don't fully understand what I wanted to tell you," Tagge ruefully stated. " We had to repeat."
Repetition was much worse. This time they let him fall down and brigadier general hit Piett when he was
crouching on the floor, aiming generally to ribs and knees. Piett also received a few kicks in the stomach; he was writhing of the cold plastisteel, hardly noticing that Tagge wants to torment him as much as possible and at the same time don't let him faint away.
Piett realized very dimly, already on the edge of the unconsciousness, when brigadier general glut himself with drubbing. As in a fog, he heard Tagge's satisfied voice:
"Now I'm absolutely sure that you, captain, had digested the lesson perfectly. But if someday your memory plays you false and you will forget about my visit, I will destroy you. Will grind to powder. Will feed you alive to the rancor. And this," he grabbed Piett, who was in a subconscious state, at the collar of his uniform, "is a dessert."
Very strong blow followed after a second; for the first time in his life Piett understood the exact meaning of the phrase "see stars" and then finally fainted.
...It was cold that brought Piett to his senses - floor in the cell also was plastisteel. He slowly regained conscience and was laying almost without movement, listening to his body's condition. He felt strong pain in the left side of the chest from the slightest move; his stomach and knees were aching. After some time, understanding that he could not lay on the floor forever, Piett tried to sit, but terrible headache made him forget about squeamishness. He clenched teeth and pressed his forehead to the floor - cold a little weakened clutches his poor head was in.
Slowly, hardly taking breath and trying not to do any abrupt movements, he on all fours reached a bunk, muttering all oaths he could remember. He could stand up very slowly and only basing himself upon the bunk. After a second everything reeled before eyes and he had to sit immediately, and after a couple of minutes - to lay down.
Piett hardly managed to get comfortable and gently touched his smarting cheekbone. Blood covered his fingers and turgidity was big enough. Apparently, Tagge had a finger-ring - he could not cut skin so deeply only with his fist. Piett took out a handkerchief, cleaned the blood - without a mirror he was not sure in the satisfactory result - and closed his eyes. Tagge had better killed him right here, Piett thought dolefully and winced from a headache. He would not be suffering now, in all senses.
It was uncomfortable lying on back, all his body was aching. Piett turned to the wall and ordered himself to breath evenly - it seemed that the pulsation in the temples and nape becomes a little less unbearable. And didn't noticed, how fall asleep or maybe fainted one more time.
To be continued
Thanks to everybody who was patiently waiting! :)
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