Empire's Son: An Epic Science Fiction Novel Series

Markus sat forward in his chair as he viewed the recording on his data pad for what felt like the hundredth time. His eyes weren't so concerned with all the destruction going on or even the movements of the defenders who were putting up a valiant fight, despite the ruthlessness of the invaders. In fact, he'd even gone so far as to mute the sound of the video so there would be less of a distraction and he wouldn't disturb the intense meeting going on between Adar and the scientist just a few feet from him.

After Adar had awakened from his second venture into the dreamscape, they called Nathias and talked with Gayle. Promptly after that unpleasant conversation, they spoke with Dexter and Master Iylon, who seemed intrigued by the idea of doing a tracer bond. That's when they finally had a moment to have a quick meal, and then both returned to pavi's office so Adar could go another round with the scientist.

This time the research team was keen on coming up with a weapon that could be used in space that would have an effect on the Shixx's ships. They couldn't rely on being anywhere near atmosphere once they caught up with the invaders so they could use Vang's sonic weapons. The success of the rescue mission largely depended on the new weapon Adar and his team were attempting to develop, or at least that was the plan.

The other part of the plan depended on Markus, and that was why he was intently reviewing all the recordings of the Battle of Sora X repeatedly, especially the ground assault. He wanted to know as much about the enemy's movements as he could to create an effective counterattack against them.

It was a tactic he used religiously during his time fighting the Fazha for the last two years. His winning streak against them was uncontested because of Markus's dedication to reviewing opponents' moves, creating a series of possible counterattacks, and then practicing until he knew he could decimate his opponent in the fighter's circle. The best part of learning to fight the Fazha had been putting himself up against opponents of different species.

While the Fazha were not widely a part of the Empire as a whole because they were so despised by the dominate race, most lived secluded in the Qua-zot sector. This part of the galaxy was rather large, but also one of the most desolate areas of the Empire. The few livable planets were barely that, and any place that might have once held precious resources was mined long ago. And so the collection of what most Ethians considered lesser species had found refuge there, gathering together in a loose confederation that most Imperial citizens simply referred to as "the Fazha," though the term technically only applied to one of the original species of the group.

Markus had sought the Fazha out deliberately to learn about them. Their varied physiologies meant different fighting styles, different strengths and weaknesses. Some were hulking brutes with thick hides; others, spindly creatures with lightning reflexes. Fighting against such diversity had honed his skills beyond what the Vanguard or the College's training could provide.

Now, as he studied the Shixx's movements frame by frame, he searched for patterns. Their attacks weren't random—they showed coordination, purpose. The way they moved suggested a hive-mind approach, but with individual tactical awareness. Unlike the Fazha fighters he'd faced, who might have been intimidating in size and strength, these invaders also worked together in a frightening efficient way.

What struck Markus most was their adaptation mid-battle. When the College defenders had established a defensive line using energy barriers, the Shixx had immediately split into smaller units, some drawing fire while others circumvented the position entirely. It wasn't just coordination—it was the evolution of tactics in real-time.

He paused the recording on a frame showing three Shixx warriors. Their movements were almost balletic in their precision, each covering the other's vulnerabilities. Unlike the Fazha, who relied on brute strength or natural advantages, these beings seemed to possess an intimate knowledge of their comrades' capabilities.

"Fascinating," Markus muttered to himself, making another note on his secondary datapad. He'd already filled pages with observations—stance variations, weapon preferences, response times to distinct threats. The Shixx had a tendency to protect certain members of their group, suggesting a hierarchy or specialization within their ranks.

Those protected Shixx seemed to direct operations, not from behind the lines like Ethian commanders, but embedded within strike teams. They moved differently—more deliberately, with frequent pauses that Markus initially mistook for hesitation but now recognized as moments of communication or assessment.

"They're coordinating," he whispered, tapping his stylus against his lip. "But how?"

Over to his left, Adar's voice rose slightly in excitement as he and Commander Leyva discussed something about the biological response of the Shixx's ships. Markus glanced over at the team huddled around pavi's desk. Adar's hands moved animatedly as he explained something to the scientist, who was nodding with growing enthusiasm.

Turning back to his work, Markus scrolled back through earlier footage, tracking his singled out Shixx through the battle. The creature never issued verbal commands, never made hand signals, yet the units around it responded to its presence with immediate tactical shifts.

"He's the hub of some sort of neural network," he murmured, making another notation. "If we can identify and neutralize these coordinator types…"

The implications were significant. Take out the coordinators, and the Shixx's greatest advantage—their perfect tactical synchronization—might collapse into chaos. But that raised another question: how many coordinators were there per unit? And more importantly, how could they identify them quickly in the heat of battle?

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Markus rewound the footage again, this time focusing on the armor variations. The coordinators wore slightly different configurations—what he identified as possible neural interfaces along their spinal columns and the black body armor they wore appeared a little thicker and more robust than the others. Subtle differences that would be difficult to spot unless you knew what to look for.

He cross-referenced his observations with casualty reports from the battle. When certain Shixx had fallen, there had been noticeable delays in the tactical responses of nearby units. Brief moments of confusion, maybe three to five seconds, before new coordination patterns emerged. Those gaps could be exploited.

"Got you," he whispered, highlighting several key frames. The coordinator hierarchy wasn't just about battlefield tactics—it was their entire operational structure. Remove enough of them quickly enough, and even their superior technology wouldn't save them from the confusion that followed.

Markus began sketching a combat strategy on his datapad. The key would be identifying and eliminating the coordinators as soon as possible. If they could do that, the infiltration team would have a real chance at striking a blow at any troops that were thrown at them as they moved through the Shixxaminti vessel to find his father.

He looked up as Adar's voice rose with excitement again. Their eyes met briefly, and Markus nodded, silently conveying that he too was making progress.

Turning back to his data pad, Markus pulled up a three-dimensional tactical display. If his theory about the Shixx coordinators was correct, a small strike team could create disproportionate chaos among their ranks. But the key was to get close enough to identify and neutralize these coordinators quickly. In the meantime, the Shixx warriors wielded weapons of terrifying efficiency––one hit from their blasters would drop any soldier without MX4 armor protection, and those who fell never rose again.

Those without the extra protection of the MX4 suites were killed instantly, but it appeared the suit's protective armor could hold up to a moderate amount of blasts from the aliens' weapons before the suits started to fail. He made a note to call Dexter to see if he could requisition MX4s for the infiltration team.

The other advantage of the MX4s was their communication system. The integrated neural link would allow his team to maintain contact even if the Shixx employed jamming technology, which Markus suspected they would. He'd seen evidence of it in the footage—moments when the College defenders' comm systems had failed precisely when coordination was most critical.

A dull ache had formed at the base of Markus's skull as he continued studying the footage. The Shixx movements were hypnotic in their efficiency—almost beautiful, if you could forget they were slaughtering people. He rubbed his eyes and zoomed in on another sequence.

In this one, a Shixx had been outright killed by College defender with one blast, while other blaster shots seemed to just be absorbed by the armor the enemy was wearing. How had the defender managed it? Markus zoomed in until he noticed that the blaster had hit a tiny node on the spine of the Shixx. Was that a weak spot? He made a note on his pad.

Markus kept scrolling through the videos as he felt like he was missing something obvious. He watched the way the Shixx fought and how quickly they seemed to be adapting to the College's defense. Were the leaders not only directing tactical movements, but gathering information too? It certainly seemed to fit. Every time College defenders employed a new defense or weapon, the nearest coordinator would pause, almost imperceptibly, before the entire Shixx force adapted their approach.

"They're learning," Markus whispered. "Real-time battlefield analysis."

This explained why the defenders' battle tactics appeared to fail so catastrophically. The Shixx weren't just coordinated—they were evolving their strategy with each engagement, turning every Ethian counter-move into valuable intelligence.

He switched to footage from later in the battle. The Shixx movements had changed, becoming more economical, more precise. They were no longer testing defenses—they were exploiting known weaknesses. The coordinators had compiled a complete tactical profile of College defenders' protocols in a matter of minutes.

Markus tapped his stylus against the armrest of his chair. This changed everything. If the Shixx could adapt so quickly, any standard assault pattern would be useless within minutes. They'd need to be unpredictable, constantly shifting tactics in ways that even the coordinators couldn't expect.

Markus pulled up his personal combat files—years of collected fighting techniques from across the Empire, especially during his time with the Fazha. Their diverse combat styles might finally prove useful in ways he hadn't anticipated. The Shixx wouldn't have encountered these techniques before, giving his team precious moments of advantage before the coordinators could analyze and adapt.

He selected several particularly unorthodox combat patterns. The Dre'kai knife-fighters of Oktor Loa used a seemingly chaotic approach that actually followed complex mathematical sequences. The Voss Infiltrators employed timed tactical resets that appeared like retreats but were actually position shifts for devastating counter-strikes. And the reclusive Mao'ri warriors of Ceti IV fought in deliberate patterns that suddenly broke in unexpected directions—like water flowing around obstacles.

"Unpredictability within structure," Markus murmured, combining elements from each style into a hybrid approach. "Give them patterns to analyze, then break them at critical moments."

Markus sat back after a few moments to look over his work. He was pleased with what he'd come up with so far, though he knew that the biggest downfall of this plan was that no one but him knew about these combat patterns. Anyone he recruited for the infiltration team would need training, including Gayle and Nathias. He was uncertain how long it would take to locate his father, but once Gayle got the tracer bond, he suspected it wouldn't take much time—at least, that was his hope. He had no idea how long the old man could hold out. He had to assume he had a matter of days, if not hours.

"Well, Nathias and his Elite team should have some specialists we can use," Markus muttered as he wrote some names he remembered of combat specialists who could learn quickly, adapt on the fly, and wouldn't break under pressure. People who understood what it meant to operate outside standard protocols.

Once upon a time, Markus had worked closely with the Elite teams and even headed his own for a while. A few from his old team had been shifted to Nathias's command after Markus had left and others had retired from the Vanguard completely. He put down the name of Lieutenant Roane, someone he had worked with closely for several years and certainly met Markus's requirements. He also put down a few other names as he considered the accelerated combat training he would have to put together to get the other team members ready.

A soft chime from his unity ring indicated an incoming priority message. It was Nathias. Markus immediately answered the call. The worn-out face of his friend materialized in front of him. The man looked tired after facing the attack from Hame and then the Shixx.

"It's done. She has the tracer bond, and we have a fix on your father's location. Where do you want to meet up?"