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  RESCUE HER HEART

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Rescue Her Heart

  CHAPTER 1 | NAT

  CHAPTER 2 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 3 | NAT

  CHAPTER 4 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 5 | NAT

  CHAPTER 6 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 7 | NAT

  CHAPTER 8 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 9 | NAT

  CHAPTER 10 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 11 | NAT

  CHAPTER 12 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 13 | NAT

  CHAPTER 14 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 15 | NAT

  CHAPTER 16 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 17 | NAT

  CHAPTER 18 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 19 | NAT

  CHAPTER 20 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 21 | NAT

  CHAPTER 22 | CAT

  CHAPTER 23 | NAT

  CHAPTER 24 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 25 | NAT

  CHAPTER 26 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 27 | NAT

  CHAPTER 28 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 29 | NAT

  CHAPTER 30 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 31 | NAT

  CHAPTER 32 | CATHERINE

  CHAPTER 33 | NAT

  DARKNESS FALLS - CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  RESCUE HER HEART

  By

  KC Luck

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 KC Luck

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  20180419

  Thank you for your interest in Rescue Her Heart. I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It was a pleasure to write. If you find time, a review, or even better, a referral to another reader, is always appreciated.

  Please enjoy!

  KC

  CHAPTER 1

  NAT

  Captain Natalie (Nat) Reynolds was in orbit around the small planet of Prospo. The craft was a P-527 patrol starship and a mainstay of the Space Rangers who kept tabs on the planets in the 8th Galaxy. Nat was assigned to a four-planet cluster and so far, things were quiet as a mouse. Downright boring, she thought, which was fine by her. Although not afraid of action, in fact her body had scars to prove it, she had accepted this route in order to get her head on straight. The last assignment had been a hard one and among other things, she lost a fellow Ranger pilot as well as a dear friend. But let’s not think about that, shall we? Nat thought and reached for the console in front of her. Punching a button, the sound of Def Leppard music suddenly filled the cabin. It was a seriously old school Earth sound, but Nat loved the hair bands from a century ago and since it was just her on the ship, she cranked the volume up to the max. The P-527 patrol ships were the biggest in the class which could still be piloted solo and Nat had insisted on it. She did not want to be saddled with a new partner. After ten years with the Space Rangers, she had earned her right to pick and choose assignments. There would come a time for a new partner, but the scars were still too fresh, both on her body and in her mind. Just let it go, she told herself. There would be time to think about it not to mention discuss it with counselors in the future. Right now, all she wanted to do was enjoy zipping through space at near light speeds and take in the sight of Prospo below her. It was one of her favorites with its tropical climate, turquoise blue oceans, and white sand beaches. Maybe it is time for a nice long vacation down there. Being fiercely devoted to the Space Rangers and always willing to sign up for every mission, it had been years since she took time for herself.

  As she pondered it, the red light over the radio receiver started to flash. Clicking off the music, Nat acknowledge the transmission. “Base to Catwoman,” said a voice over the speaker. When they used her callsign, she knew it was headquarters and wondered what was up.

  “Go ahead, Base,” Nat acknowledged.

  “Nat, we just received a report of fuel theft at the Prospo petrobay,” Base said. “Sounds like somebody filled up the tank of a small starship and then ran out without paying.” Nat raised her eyebrows. Stealing fuel was hardly a major crime and for a second Nat felt a bit irritated to be asked to respond to it, but then she reminded herself the assignment was her choice. If it meant handling the minor stuff, so be it.

  “I’m on it, Base,” Nat said. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Roger, Catwoman. Base out,” the voice said and Nat switched over to the commercial aviation frequency.

  “Captain Natalie Reynolds to Prospo Control,” she said. “Request for landing.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” Prospo Control answered. “Come on in.” Nat shook her head a little at the casualness of the answer, but then reminded herself it was not a military planet, only a recreation one. I should think of it as a nice change of pace, she thought as she piloted the ship through Prospo’s atmosphere and made her approach. Within fifteen minutes she was on the ground of the landing bay, surrounded by beautiful civilian ships. As she disembarked, she could not help but appreciate the smooth lines and modern styles of the different spacecraft. One of the smaller crafts caught her attention more than the others. It was an Avalon Mercury Model 3370 and about the size of her military P-527 craft, but much flashier. Walking closer, Nat wondered what something like it cost. She had accumulated a few million credits over the ten years. It was easy to save when a person worked nonstop and never spent any money. Adding in the hazard pay and survival bonuses, and her bankroll was impressive by anyone’s standards. What if I just gave up the Space Rangers and bought one of these to cruise the galaxies with? she wondered. It did not sound half bad, at least until she considered what life might be like without the Space Rangers. With her parents and brother light years away in another galaxy, Nat had no one else in her life. The Space Rangers were her family. A lonely life flying around in a pretty starship would not fill the void she sometimes felt and she knew it. With a sigh, Nat turned away and headed toward the aviation tower. She had only taken a step when a man spoke behind her.

  “Hey there,” he said. Nat turned to see an older gentleman in designer pilot’s overalls walking toward her from around the Avalon Mercury. “I saw you looking her over. What do you think?” He was smiling, clearly proud of the craft. Nat could understand why.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t mind having one someday.” The gentleman nodded.

  “A good choice,” he said. “And you’re in luck. This beauty of mine is for sale. Interested?” Nat hesitated. She had only been half serious when she thought about someday having one. Now it almost seemed like fate. Before she could come up with an answer, the gentleman held out a business card.

  “No rush,” he said. “I’ve not even listed her yet. Take my card and give it some consideration. I wrote the price I’m looking for on the back. Let me know.” Nat took the card and smiled. Why not think it over? she thought.

  “Thank you, I will,” she told him as she read the card. Dr. Manny Lopez. “It’s been nice to meet you, Dr. Lopez.”

  Dr. Lopez leaned in to read the nametag on her chest. “Same to you, Captain Reynolds. Safe flying.”

  “You too. I’ll be in touch,” Nat said and gave him a nod as she started walking toward the aviation tower again. Flipping the card over, she read the amount the Avalon Mercury would cost and was pleased to see it was not unrealistic. Putting the card in her pocket, she promised to think about it more seriously later. You just never know, she thought and walked throu
gh the door into Prospo Control. She went straight to the main desk and was greeted by the SN-0406 android running things there.

  “Welcome. Captain Reynolds I presume?” the android asked. Nat nodded.

  “Yes. I’m here to take a statement about a fuel theft,” Nat said. The android’s lights blinked happily.

  "Perfect," the machine said. "Sergeant Baxter is waiting for you in his office. He can give you all the details. Right this way." The android turned on a set of four wheels and headed for a door across the room. Nat followed and after a moment was standing across the desk from a handsome black man. "Sir, Captain Reynolds to see you." Sergeant Baxter stood up and held out his hand. Nat shook it and, when he motioned for her to have a seat, took a chair.

  “Sorry to bring you down here for something so minor,” Sergeant Baxter apologized. “But stealing fuel must be reported to the petroleum cartel. No way around it.” Nat nodded.

  “No problem,” she said and took her comm device out of her pocket. She opened the notepad feature and prepared to listen. “What exactly happened?”

  Sergeant Baxter leaned back in his chair and gathered his thoughts. “About 1300 hours a small ED-90 ship got into line,” he started and Nat was surprised. ED-90s were relics. She had not seen one since she was a kid and they were old then. Seeing her look, Baxter nodded. “I know. A classic. But this one was a wreck. The fuel attendants said they were amazed it could actually fly.”

  “Interesting,” Nat said typing in the information. “Then what?”

  Baxter shrugged. "After about thirty minutes, it fueled up. After the fill-up, it moved away from the hoses but rather than stop and pay, it accelerated," he explained. "Blasted through our airspace and out into orbit without a word. Didn't clear with the tower or anything. Damn dangerous."

  "No kidding," Nat agreed. "And no one got a tail number?" Baxter shook his head and leaned forward again.

  "Apparently something which could have been numbers was on the side, but too faded to read," he said. "There was one thing left behind though." He picked up a piece of paper and held it out for Nat. She took it from him. It was a handwritten note.

  SORRY I CAN’T PAY. I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND BUT I NEED THE FUEL TO GET HOME.

  “Wow,” Nat said. She had never seen anything like it. What criminal writes a note apologizing for stealing? she wondered. “How did you get this?”

  "Released from the side port in a communication canister," he answered. "As the ship lifted off."

  “Crazy,” Nat said. She took a picture of the note with the camera on her comm device and then handed it back to Baxter. “What about video? I imagine you have the hoses under surveillance.” Baxter took the paper and stacked it on the desk.

  “We do. Not sure it will show much, but I can have the techs pull it. Give me a half hour,” he said. Nat nodded.

  “Works for me,” Nat said as she stood up. “I’ll grab a bite. What’s nearby?” Baxter stood up as well and walked her to the door of his office.

  “Flight Deck Diner is right across the tarmac. Can’t miss it,” he said.

  NAT SAT ON A STOOL at the counter of the diner with her veggie burger and fries. She could not figure out what kind of crook left a note behind. Why bother? she wondered and was lost in thought when a man sat down on the stool next to her. He leaned toward her.

  "Hey there, Ranger," he said. "What brings you to a dive like this?" Nat started at the interruption of her thinking and frowned. Noticing, the stranger smiled. "Aw now, don't look like that. It messes up that pretty little face of yours." Nat sighed. Great, she thought. A come on. It was the last thing she wanted or needed. Trying to ignore the guy, she dipped the last of her fries in ketchup, ate them and started to stand up. She tossed a few credits on the counter and turned to go. Before she could, the man put a hand on her arm. “Whoa,” he said. “What’s the hurry?” Nat turned to look at him with an icy glare. The man pulled back his hand. She watched his face slowly turn red and she knew what was coming next. “Oh, right, let me guess,” he said with a sneer. “You like girls.”

  “Exactly,” Nat snarled. “So buzz off.” The man answered with a mean laugh.

  "Sure thing, dyke. But you don't know what you're missing," he said. Nat strongly considered head-butting him between his eyes, but then decided he wasn't worth it. With a disappointed shake of her head, she left the asshole at the counter and walked out. He did not know how lucky he was actually. Nat knew she could have kicked his sorry civilian ass without breaking a sweat. She had more experience fighting hand-to-hand than she ever wanted. But what purpose would it serve? she thought. Mean people stayed mean, even when they got their stupid heads cracked. Nat kept walking and went back into the Prospo control center hoping the security video was ready to roll. She did not want to stay on the planet any longer than necessary.

  CHAPTER 2

  CATHERINE

  The piece of junk ED-90 rattled its way through space. Catherine Porter did her best to keep it flying in a straight line, but it was not easy. Her experience flying was limited as her father had done almost all of it for all of the eighteen years of her life, or at least up until he disappeared the month before. It was only out of dire necessity she was driving now, but she knew she had to get to the planet Untas where her aunt lived and figure out what to do with her life. Besides, her aunt needed to understand her brother was missing and Catherine only hoped the woman would have some insight as to what Catherine should do next. Normally, when a person disappeared from Prospo, it was a kidnapping, but Catherine was sure that was not what happened. Not only had there not been a ransom note so far, but her family was broke. It was why the only spaceship Catherine could afford was the ED-90. It was even cheaper than a between planet transport ticket, except Catherine had not calculated in the cost of fuel. The dealer at the starcraft lot had promised her the tanks were full, but it was bullshit and by the time she realized it, the traveling shyster had picked up stakes and moved on. All of which was why she resorted to stealing the fuel she needed. Catherine hated having to do it, but no matter what she thought of, there were no more credits in the bank. At least I left a note, she thought, which Catherine realized was lame under the circumstances, yet she needed the people at the fuel station to know she was sorry and not a real criminal. Someday, when I am rich, I’ll go back and pay them for it. Catherine held onto that thought as she fought the steering controls and prayed she was going the right direction. The orbital position system was up and the holograph showed the planets in relation to her location, but Catherine only half trusted it considering the rest of the ship was falling apart.

  Gritting her teeth, Catherine willed the junker to keep flying. It was at least two days flight to get to Untas and she was not one hundred percent sure she stole enough fuel. Already the gauge was jumping around and she was only a couple hours in. Glancing at the holograph, Catherine noted the only planet between where she was and where she needed to be was Taswa. It would do her no help. The thing was basically a rotating block of ice with an environment of a continual blizzard. Nothing inhabited it, not even a military outpost. There definitely was not any fuel to buy, or in her case, steal. I’ll just have to make it, she thought and tried to relax. She could not fly for forty-eight hours all twisted up like a spring about to go off, but it was hard to let go. The last thirty days had been hell.

  First, her father did not come home one night after stumbling off from their shop to find a new bar which would let him open a tab Catherine knew he could not pay. She had long ago learned not to worry until a couple of days went by as her dad would often find a woman to take him in and shack up with her until he sobered up. Or when they threw him out as they realized he was a penniless drunk, Catherine thought. Only this time her father did not come wandering home after all. After the third day, Catherine went looking for him. She started with his favorite watering holes only to hear over and over that her dad was a worthless deadbeat. Each time she would walk back out trying to keep her head held h
igh and let the mean words roll off her, but at night she cried herself to sleep, her fury mixed with despair. Finally, when a week had passed, she went to the cops. The response there was not much friendlier. They knew Catherine's dad all too well. A drunk they picked up at least once a week and had to put in the tank to dry out. They had to admit he had not been seen in a while but told her to just go home. Like a bad penny, the cops were sure he would show up again in due time.

  But he did not. With no other ideas, Catherine went to the medical center actually hoping he was there, but they had no record of a forty-five-year-old unidentified drunk man being checked in for anything. She had stumbled home after that, tired and without hope of ever finding him. When she got to the corner market her father owned, which she had not opened since he went missing, she found the doors locked. This was an especially big problem because she and her dad lived above it in a dismal flat. The notice on the door clearly outlined the problem. No rent had been paid in six months. Catherine was suddenly homeless at eighteen. Only by climbing the fire escape was she able to jimmy the apartment window and get inside long enough to pack one bag and grab her stash of credits under the loose floorboard in her corner of the room. There was not much, but she had saved it slowly over the last five years. It was her dream money of someday getting out of her pathetic life.

  Taking it and running back down the ladder as the sound of police sirens started to come closer, Catherine did not know what to do other than try and call her aunt. Catherine knew her father and his sister were not close, but she was the only person Catherine could think to turn to at the moment. With no money to even afford a comm link, Catherine used some of her precious credits to go to a cafe and make the call from a station there. She nearly cried when her aunt answered and was clearly concerned when she saw Catherine's face.