The Corporate Net Closes

The pulsing red alert on the bridge of the *Ironmule* was more than just a visual nuisance; it was a declaration of war. The holographic display, usually a serene tapestry of star lanes and jump points, was now a chaotic mess of blinking red zones and frantic comms chatter. OmniCorp wasn't just flexing its muscles anymore; it was tightening a noose around the throat of the Hyper Highways.

"Report, Maya," Hampton's voice, usually a low rumble, was tight with a tension that had become all too familiar. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, swept across the screen, tracing the encroaching red tendrils that were systematically choking off vital trade routes.

Maya, her fingers flying across her console, looked up, her usual bright optimism dimmed by the grim reality unfolding before them. "They've deployed OmniCorp Security frigates, Admiral. Blockading the Cygnus Gate, the Orion Nebula junction, and even the smaller routes around Kepler-186f. Independent haulers are being turned back, cargo impounded, some… just vanished." Her voice cracked on the last word, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the recycled air.