[Sector 8 - Orbit of The Forge]
The sky above the metal planet turned dark. It wasn't a storm. It was an armada.
Over one thousand heavy mercenary cruisers warped into Sector 8, forming a perfect, impenetrable sphere around The Forge. They dropped massive, glowing buoys into the void, linking them together with thick beams of red energy.
"System Alert," Dawn's avatar materialized, glowing an urgent yellow. "The Intergalactic Mercenary Alliance (IMA) has deployed a 'Warp-Jammer Net.' All hyper-lanes leading out of Sector 8 are blocked. The Bifrost Gate cannot establish a stable wormhole."
Admiral Valerius slammed his fist onto the war-room table. "They've boxed us in! Boss, we have five fleets of Void-Cruisers ready for delivery to the auction winners. If we don't deliver them, we breach our contracts!"
Alex sat in the throne of User 006, watching the thousand ships on the main screen. "Let them hail us," Alex said calmly.
[The Blockade]
The screen flickered, revealing High-Commander Torvus. He was sipping a glowing blue drink, looking incredibly smug.
"Good morning, Pantheon Defense," Torvus mocked. "Looks like you have a logistics problem. I told you, nobody operates in this quadrant without an IMA license. Since you refuse to pay the One Billion Credit fee, your assets are frozen."
"You brought a thousand ships just for me?" Alex asked. "I'm flattered. But blocking a hyper-lane is illegal under the Banking Guild's free-trade charter."
Torvus laughed, a booming, guttural sound. "We enforce the charter, human! The Sector 8 Transit Authority is underfunded and corrupt. They let us do whatever we want as long as we keep the pirates out. You have 24 hours to surrender your Forge to the IMA, or my ships will glass your little factory."
Torvus cut the feed.
[The Landlord]
Luna drew her blades, her silver hair catching the red light of the jammer net. "Master. Point me at his flagship. I will bring you his head."
"Put the swords away, Luna," Alex opened his System Interface. "Killing Torvus doesn't solve the problem. If we shoot an IMA Commander, they'll just send two thousand ships tomorrow. We don't need to break the law. We need to buy the law."
Alex turned to his AI. "Dawn. Who exactly owns the empty space around this planet?"
"Querying..." Dawn replied. "The spatial coordinates of Sector 8 are technically public property, managed by the 'Sector 8 Transit Authority' (S8-TA)."
"Are they for sale?"
"Scanning System Market... Yes. Due to municipal debt, the S8-TA is offering 'Privatization Rights' to the sector's hyper-lanes to any Tier-2 Corporate Entity."
Alex looked at his balance. [Current Balance: 142,500,000 GC.]
"How much for the deed to Sector 8?" Alex asked, an ice-cold smile forming on his face.
"Cost of Total Sector Privatization: 100,000,000 GC."
"Buy it."
[The Takeover]
Alex slammed his hand onto the biometric scanner.
[Transaction Authorized.] [Expenditure: 100,000,000 GC.] [Asset Acquired: Sector 8 Spatial Coordinates (Private Property).]
A massive golden pulse emitted from The Forge, washing over the entire sector. The God-Tycoon System formally registered the buyout across the galactic network.
"Now," Alex adjusted his cuffs. "Torvus said they were parked in public space. But as of five seconds ago, this is private property."
"Dawn," Alex ordered. "What is the standard penalty for unauthorized military parking in a private, Tier-2 corporate sector?"
"According to Guild Law, the property owner may levy fines of up to 10,000 GC per ship, per minute of trespassing."
"Excellent," Alex's eyes flashed with predatory capitalist intent. "Send the IMA fleet an invoice. Auto-deduct it directly from their corporate treasury. Start the clock."
[The Margin Call]
Aboard the IMA Flagship, High-Commander Torvus was still laughing with his lieutenants when his command console suddenly shrieked.
[CRITICAL ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED TRESPASSING ON PRIVATE PROPERTY.] [Property Owner: PANTHEON GROUP.] [Fines Levied: 1,000 Ships x 10,000 GC = -10,000,000 GC / Minute.]
Torvus stared at the screen in horror. "What?! Ten million credits a minute?! Who authorized this?!"
Before his officers could answer, the console pinged again.
[Minute 2: -10,000,000 GC deducted from IMA Central Bank.] [Minute 3: -10,000,000 GC deducted from IMA Central Bank.]
"He bought the space!" A lieutenant screamed. "Commander, the human bought the actual vacuum of space! We are bleeding dry!"
Torvus panicked. His entire operational budget for the year was vanishing in seconds. If the IMA board found out he bankrupted the division over a blockade, they would execute him.
"Retreat!" Torvus roared, spitting his blue drink across the deck. "Power down the jammers! Warp out! Get us off his lawn!"
[The Eviction]
From the window of The Forge, Alex watched the thousand mighty warships scramble like terrified roaches. They recalled their buoys, dropped the red energy net, and initiated emergency jumps, fleeing Sector 8 as fast as their engines would allow.
"Dawn," Alex checked his terminal. "How long were they parked on our property?"
"Four minutes, Sir. Total fines collected: 40,000,000 GC."
Alex smiled. [Current Balance: 82,500,000 GC.]
"Admiral Valerius," Alex turned to the stunned mercenary. "The road is clear. Deliver the ships to our clients."
"You..." Valerius whispered, staring at Alex as if he were a god. "You just defeated a thousand-ship armada with a parking ticket."
"That's business, Admiral," Alex took a sip of his coffee. "Now, let's see what else we can buy."