Read Online Curse of the Iris by Jason Fry - Free Book Online

’ave come all this way for nothin’,” growled Huff.
    â€œAny anomalous surface features?” asked Mavry, peering at the main screen. It showed nothing but the darkness of space, sprinkled with stars—comets like P/2093 K1 were practically invisible without the bright tails they sprouted when buffeted by the solar winds.
    â€œYou’ll have to get me closer,” Yana said. “At this range I can only resolve surface features larger than a hundred meters.”
    â€œCloser it is,” Carlo said. “Finalizing intercept course. Captain?”
    â€œTake us in,” Diocletia said.
    â€œAye-aye,” Carlo said. He activated his headset microphone and alerted Grigsby as he angled the Comet to port and accelerated toward P/2093 K1.
    â€œBuilding spectrum analysis of organic compounds,” Yana said. “Appears to be basic primordial ooze.”
    â€œMaybe the treasure is buried inside P/2,” Tycho said.
    Six bells sounded.
    â€œHold on a sec,” Yana said. “I’m picking up something. Looks like . . . wait. Vesuvia, sensors just went blank. What—”
    Something slammed the Comet to starboard, the impact driving Tycho’s neck and shoulder into the tough leather of his harness. There was a flash of brilliant light and a thunderclap of sound that left the Hashoones instinctively clamping their hands over their ears, spots dancing in their vision. The enormous noise faded into a low, rolling groan, accompanied by the shuddering of the quarterdeck beneath their feet.
    â€œWhat was that?” yelped Yana.
    â€œImpact,” Vesuvia said in her emotionless way. “Port engine support.”
    â€œDamage report?” Diocletia demanded.
    â€œDamage assessment initiated,” Vesuvia replied. “No data at present time.”
    â€œCarlo, evasive action,” Diocletia said. “Yana, what have you got?”
    â€œNothing!” Yana said. “I’m totally blind!”
    Carlo yanked the left control yoke back and shoved the right yoke forward. Acceleration pressed the Hashoones back in their chairs as he spun the Comet to port, trying to shield the damaged section of her hull from their attacker. Tycho heard the wail of the bosun’s pipes belowdecks, ordering the gun crews to their stations.
    â€œDamage consistent with a missile impact,” Vesuvia said. “Hull breach contained. Power feeds severed in affected area. No further diagnostics available. Calculating trajectory of enemy projectile and sending data to gun crews for target acquisition.”
    â€œSomeone was waiting for us,” Diocletia said, then activated her headset. “Mr. Grigsby, sensors are down. If you see a target, take the shot.”
    â€œOur pleasure, Captain,” Grigsby growled. “Nobody takes a piece out of the barky without us having something to say about it.”
    â€œTell the crews to make it count, Mr. Grigsby,” Diocletia said grimly. “Yana?”
    â€œElectromagnetic interference across all bands,” Yana said. “Someone’s jamming us. It’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen.”
    â€œFight fair, you scurvy buzzards!” Huff roared, his forearm cannon jerking madly in response to its owner’s anger.
    â€œInitiating countermeasures,” Yana said. “Looking for where the interference is weakest so we can boost a signal and punch through it.”
    â€œHow long?” Diocletia asked.
    â€œCan’t tell you,” Yana said. “I need some time to analyze the interference.”
    â€œFast as you can, then,” Diocletia said, her voice brisk and businesslike. “Carlo, take us in so we can get a visual on our attacker. Dad, get below and assist the gun crews. Mavry, go aft and get me a more detailed damage assessment. Tycho, you’re on communications.”
    No one argued—a captain’s word was law, especially during combat. Mavry