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New Release: Lack of Compliance – A.R. Moler

Lack of Compliance - A.R. Moler

QSFer A.R. Moler has a new FF sci-fi book out: Lack of Compliance.

Crash landing on an unfamiliar colony planet is bad. Finding out that women are viewed as property and have no legal rights compounds the problems. Captain Alisha Kinomoto of the Terran Alliance Marine Corps is used to being in control as a pilot and as a military officer.

Being treated as worthless, doesn’t sit well. There is one saving grace of this miserable planet – a beautiful young woman named Tabitha.

As attraction blossoms, an invasion force arrives and only the female population of the colony has a plan for keeping them safe.

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Chapter 1

“Impact imminent. Ejection suggested,” the flight navigation computer said in a voice that was too damn perky considering a crash landing was about to happen.

Captain Alisha Kinomoto struggled to control her Raptor. Long range recon of quadrant 197 was supposed to be boring. Getting caught in a coronal mass ejection, aka an ion storm, while passing near a star had not been part of the plan. More than half the guidance systems of her fighter were now fritzed and sparking. She had headed for the nearest recorded inhabited planet, hoping to land safely. Now here she was rattling through a rough atmospheric descent, that appeared to be getting worse by the second. Could she eject? Would her suit protect her? First, she had to get lower.

Using the intermittent data displayed on the screen, she aimed for what looked like an empty stretch of land out past the edge of a city.

“—tify. Not auth- Contact…” The communication array on her craft spat out random words from what she assumed was the spaceport control tower. What was the name of this backwater colony? Conway? Connee? Something along those lines.

“Spaceport, this is Captain Alisha Kinomoto of the T.A.M Carrier Saint Laurent. My ship is heavily damaged and I am attempting an emergency landing.” She didn’t have the slightest idea if her communication would be received. And landing was probably going to be a really generous word. She activated the distress beacon that was designed to allow the carrier to find her. Whether or not she would be a rescue or a body recovery was debatable.

Alisha fought the stick to control her glide path, the shallower the better, instead of plummeting like a dropped rock. She jabbed a finger against the ejection button and… exactly nothing happened. She tried three more times. This was going to suck, big time.

“Surface contact in sixty meters,” the flight computer said brightly.

The Raptor plowed nose first into the tree line.

Author Bio

A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has – learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it. She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years.

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