All My Sins Remembered Read Online Free PDF Page A

and into space, and it finally took a medic pumping her full of sedatives to get her to the point that they could finally carry her to one of the ship's med bays, or so she was told.  She was also told that she had improved the past few days.  Huh,  if only they knew.
    Tasha took a deep breath, pushing away the memories by force of will, and found that she was finally able to breathe normally again.  As sweat soaked clothes cooled to the chilly room temperature that all hospital rooms seem to be, they gave her goose bumps and she felt a shiver work its way up her spine.  She hated hospitals.  They were always too cold, and none of the furniture was ever the least bit comfortable, but she was required to stay here until she had 'recovered'.  They had told her she had 'acute stress disorder'.  Yeah, seeing everyone you ever cared about being picked off in their life pods, or sucked out into space through breaches in the ship's hull had a way of doing that.  Tasha massaged the back of her neck and sighed wearily before standing and walking to the bathroom, intent on taking a hot shower to rinse away the sweat and memories. 
    Twenty minutes later, Tasha emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes feeling renewed, refreshed, and running a comb through her short brown hair.  It was, perhaps, the best she had felt in awhile.  A part of her still felt as if she was just going through the motions, but she did not want to let herself go, either.  The nightmares had come a few days after her rescue.  At first, it was a welcome change from the numb, disconnected feeling that followed her wherever she went, but the novelty of it quickly wore off when exhaustion set in.  Night after night she would dream she was back in her life pod, watching the black ship destroy the other life pods, saving her life pod for last.  She would always wake up screaming, convinced she was floating, unprotected, in the vacuum of space.  Sometimes she wondered if she would ever sleep peacefully again.
    T he annoying buzz of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts as she threw her comb into the bathroom sink and walked over to look at the display screen in the console next to the door.  She immediately recognized Commander Spears and almost decided not to answer the door, but then caught sight of his companion.  The man was tall, at least a good three inches taller than the Commander, and looked to be in very good shape in spite of his salt-and-pepper, crew cut hair.  He also wore simple olive fatigues, a sharp contrast to Commander Spear’s Navy dress uniform he always seemed so fond of wearing.  She wondered if the man had any other kind of clothes.  Tasha’s gaze was drawn to the circular shoulder patch on the olive uniformed man.  It was a golden hawk that looked as if it were diving for its prey with talons extended, on a field of black, with a gold border.  She couldn't help but feel a brief moment of puzzlement and surprise as she stared at that unit patch.  Everyone in the known galaxy knew that unit insignia.  Some felt a sense of awe, while others were filled with dread, but everyone respected the legend that was Hawke’s Talons.  If this man was a Talon, then he was the best at whatever he did, and judging from his size, scarred knuckles, and a face that carried its fair share of scars, she could venture a guess at what this man's specialty might be.  Maybe it was some of her Russian superstition at work, but she felt as if death hung on the man like a cloak.  Curious, Tasha pushed the button that opened the door, then sauntered over to one of the chairs sitting by the table and settled into it.
    “Good morning, Tasha.  How are you?” Commander Spears asked as he entered in from the corridor.  His voice was cheery and light-hearted.  Fake.  Behind him, his companion took a couple of steps inside the room and then leaned against the wall by the door folding his arms, content with not saying or doing anything other than