Resist the Red Battlenaut Read Free Page A

him.
    Which left Solomon Scott with just one question to consider as the cockpit couch whisked him through the raging battle: why had he been able to see it when Rollins hadn't?
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    *****
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    Chapter 2
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    A week later, Scott sat at a table in the canteen at the Commonwealth base on Ovid VI, sipping lousy coffee from a chipped black mug. The canteen--a no-frills shed with colorful flags of Commonwealth worlds slapped on the drab metal walls--was packed with Marines, all eating and drinking and talking and laughing.
    But none of them were talking to Scott. None were anywhere near him.
    Ever since the battle of Chelong III, people had kept their distance. There were too many questions about the deaths of Shen, Dewar, and Captain Rollins, and not enough concrete answers.
    Scott had stood by his story, but there wasn't much proof to support it. Apparently, the Red Battlenaut had left behind zero trace of itself--no spent shells or debris or even tracks. As for telemetry, the only recorded trace was the unidentifiable split-second blip from Scott's radar. The rest of the sensor data and video, flashed to remote backup servers when Scott's armor exploded, showed nothing. The same video feeds on which he'd watched the Red Battlenaut in action now showed nothing but misty backdrops from the planet's surface...and, eventually, Captain Rollins' Battlenaut exploding.
    In the end, the only traces of Battlenaut activity from the site belonged to Scott, Rollins, and the two Rightfuls whom Scott had taken down before the Red's arrival. The only spent ammo found at the scene belonged to Scott and the dead Rightfuls. So, naturally, there was a shadow over Scott regarding the death of Rollins. Naturally, people weren't going out of their way to get next to him.
    That was why he was so surprised when someone finally tapped him on the shoulder.
    Looking back, he saw a tall officer towering over him, gazing down with a stony stare. He had three visible scars: one on his left cheek; one stretching from his left temple along the right side of his nose to his jaw; and one winding around his throat, starting at his right earlobe and disappearing into his collar over his left clavicle.
    But the scars weren't the most striking things about him. His uniform made the strongest impression; it was black as deep space from collar to boots, with the triple triangular emblem of a major on each sleeve and a single silver insignia pinned to the chest: the stylized gaping maw and fangs of a striking serpent.
    The man belonged to CORE--the Covert Operations Response Elite. He was part of the most elite special forces unit in the Commonwealth military--or any military in the known galaxy, for that matter.
    This couldn't be good.
    Scott rose from his chair and snapped off a salute. "Sir." Even standing, he still found himself looking up. The CORE officer was a full head taller than he was.
    The major returned his salute. "At ease, Corporal." He nodded once and pulled a chair out from the table. "Take a load off."
    As Scott settled back into his seat, he scanned the room. Almost everyone in the canteen was looking his way or pretending not to. It wasn't every day that one of the gods from CORE deigned to grace them with his presence.
    "I'm Major Perseid." The CORE man leaned forward and folded his hands on the dented steel surface of the table. "Major Jack Perseid." He didn't add that he was with CORE; he didn't have to. "I need a moment of your time."
    Scott shrugged and tried not to show how nervous he was. "Yes, sir." Perseid didn't look much older than Scott was, but the fact that he was CORE--and seeking out Scott in spite of the cloud over his fate--instantly put Scott on the defensive.
    It didn't help when Perseid locked a piercing stare on him. "Let's talk about what happened on Chelong III." His brown eyes were so dark, they were like two black holes. "Let's talk about the Red Battlenaut."
    Scott's curiosity was piqued. "Okay." The Marine