Season 2 chapter 29
The Skyward Ambition
The smog over the Antrious Hub was particularly thick, casting a permanent industrial grey shadow over Kniya's massive executive suite.
Kniya stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a cup of black coffee, staring up past the smog. Below him, thousands of workers were assembling heavy-diesel tanks and luxury sedans, but his eyes were locked onto a massive, heavy-propeller commercial airliner slowly cutting through the clouds.
Malesh was sitting on the expensive leather sofa across the room, quietly reviewing a stack of offshore banking ledgers for his oil monopoly.
"Bro," Kniya said, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "We have been running the dirt for five years now. We own the roads. We own the fuel. The ground is getting too fucking crowded."
Malesh didn't look up from his ledger. "If you are suggesting we buy the ocean next, I am not interested. Deep-water real estate is a logistical nightmare."
"I don't give a shit about the ocean," Kniya grinned, turning around and leaning against the thick glass window. "I am bored with the surface. It is time for me to start the one thing I have always wanted to achieve. I am going to start my own airline company. I am going to completely dominate the airspace. And we are going to call it Kniya Airlines."
Malesh finally stopped reading. He closed his ledger with a sharp snap and looked at Kniya.
"An airline?" Malesh asked, his dark eyes narrowing. "Commercial aviation has an astronomical barrier to entry. Building a fleet of heavy-diesel planes and securing federal flight routes from scratch would take a decade."
"I am not building it from scratch, you idiot," Kniya scoffed, walking back to his mahogany desk. "I have been researching this for months. I am going to buy out an existing fleet. Have you looked at the domestic aviation market lately?"
"I only look at the fuel consumption metrics," Malesh replied flatly.
"Then you should know about Thullibulli Airline," Kniya declared, dropping a thick, highly classified dossier onto his desk. "They are the absolute largest airline company in our country. They have a total monopoly on domestic flights and the best airport terminals in the Republic. Globally, they rank as the 13th largest aviation firm."
Malesh stared at the dossier. "If they are the largest in the country, their board of directors is not going to just hand you the keys because you asked nicely."
"I'm not going to ask nicely," Kniya smirked, dropping into his leather chair. "Their management is bloated. Their executives are lazy legacy brats who don't know how to survive a real corporate war. We buy them out, strip their branding, paint the entire fleet crimson and black, and slap 'Kniya Airlines' on the tail."
The Five-Trillion Credit Gamble
Malesh stood up from the sofa, walking over to the desk. His sharp, cutthroat CEO instincts immediately dissected the numbers.
"Thullibulli is a massive entity," Malesh noted, looking at Kniya. "To execute a hostile takeover of the 13th largest airline in the world, the buyout valuation, the rebranding, and the immediate debt absorption... you are looking at an unbelievable amount of capital. It would take five trillion credits to force their board to surrender."
"Exactly," Kniya grinned, kicking his heavy steel-toed boots up onto the desk.
"Even with the five years of compounding wealth you have generated from the military steel contracts," Malesh argued, "pulling five trillion credits in pure liquidity out of Kavilson Steel's reserves would completely paralyze your terrestrial operations. It is a massive liability."
Kniya laughed. It was a dark, arrogant sound that echoed through the executive suite.
"Who the fuck said I was using our own money?" Kniya grinned, tapping his forehead. "I am not going to bleed my own company dry just to buy some planes. I am going to use leverage. I am going to KNB, and I am going to take out a fucking loan for 5 trillion credits."
Malesh stared at him, genuinely impressed by the sheer audacity. "A five trillion credit loan. The interest rate the KNB will demand is going to be extortionate."
"The interest rate will be whatever I tell them it is," Kniya stated coldly, his street-smart aggression bleeding through his corporate persona. "I supply the steel for the government's entire military infrastructure. If the KNB refuses my loan, I will quadruple the price of tank armor tomorrow and bankrupt the Defense Ministry. They don't have a fucking choice."
The Aviation Fuel Extortion
Malesh stood by the desk, staring at the Thullibulli dossier. A hostile takeover funded by a coerced federal loan. It was brilliant. It was ruthless.
But then, Malesh's brain connected the final pieces of the puzzle.
He slowly looked up at Kniya. His face lost all trace of amusement, shifting into a cold, dangerous glare.
"Wait," Malesh said, his voice dropping into a dark register. "If you are buying the largest airline in the country... that means you are going to acquire a fleet of hundreds of massive, heavy-diesel commercial planes."
"That's the plan," Kniya said innocently, though his vicious grin was widening by the second.
"Which means," Malesh continued, his hands clenching into fists as the realization hit him like a physical blow, "you are going to have a practically unfathomable, massive requirement for high-grade aviation fuel."
"Yes, am I right about this thing?" Kniya asked, completely mocking Malesh's serious tone.
"You absolute, scheming bastard," Malesh cursed, his voice tight with pure, unfiltered annoyance.
"Absolutely, for sure!" Kniya cackled, bursting into laughter and slamming his hand on the desk. "Hundreds of thousands of gallons of aviation fuel every single fucking day, bro! And do you remember that little piece of paper we signed back on the luxury yacht? The 500-year contract where Malesh Energy Limited is legally obligated to supply my companies with fuel at a fifty percent discount?"
Malesh let out a long, furious breath, glaring at his business partner.
"You didn't buy an airline just to own the sky," Malesh stated coldly, wanting to strangle him. "You bought it to aggressively exploit my profit margins. You are going to use my discounted oil to undercut every other airline on the planet."
"It is just good business, bro," Kniya laughed, entirely unrepentant. He reached over and hit the heavy brass intercom button on his desk.
"Yes, Mr. Anderson?" Varis's exhausted voice crackled through the speaker.
"Varis, get your ass in here," Kniya ordered. "Draft the acquisition paperwork for Thullibulli Airline and prepare the financial ledgers. We are going to KNB to commit some light extortion."
The Logistics of Extortion
The heavy brass radio-telephone hissed with static as Malesh processed Kniya's grand reveal. For a moment, there was silence on the line. Then, Malesh let out a slow, deeply exhausted sigh.
"Okay, bro, let me tell you one thing," Malesh said, his voice flat but carrying a sharp, corporate edge. "I was completely sure you would scheme something exactly like this. But you aren't the only one who reads the fine print. I was already prepared for it."
"Prepared for what?" Kniya challenged, putting his boots up on his desk. "A contract is a contract."
"Yes, it is," Malesh countered smoothly. "And the contract explicitly states you are only going to get that 50% discount on the raw fuel that is directly extracted from my island. But it does absolutely not include the transportation costs. I am not running a charity delivery service for your airplanes. If you are going to use a huge amount of fuel, you have to bear the cost of the heavy tanker shipping from Sulwadiya to your airports."
Kniya smirked. Even with the shipping fees, buying crude oil at half price was still going to bleed every other airline dry. "Fine. I'll pay for the boats. You just pump the juice."
"How many planes does this company even operate right now?" Malesh asked.
"After researching them, Thullibulli Airline actually owns exactly 270 diesel-powered commercial planes," Kniya explained, looking at the dossier on his desk. "They are bulky, the engines are old, and the branding looks like shit. I am going to replace the full fleet eventually, but I just want to start. This is my only chance to break into the airspace without waiting a decade."
"And you are dropping five trillion on this?"
"Not all of it on the buyout," Kniya clarified. "I am only going to spend about 2.7 to 3 trillion credits on actually buying the company shares. The rest of the 5 trillion loan is going straight into overhauling the fleet, ripping out the interiors, and aggressive rebranding. I want to style this company in my own way. We are playing the long game."
"Understood," Malesh said. "Get your loan. Call me when you need a ride to their headquarters."
The KNB Fast-Track
Kniya didn't waste time negotiating with low-level clerks. He went straight to the top of the KNB, the Republic of DI's primary government-owned financial institution.
The KNB was notorious for suffocating bureaucratic red tape, but they also operated a highly corrupt "fast-track" protocol for the exact right people. Kniya walked past the armed guards and stepped directly into the opulent, state-funded office of the Chief Director of the KNB.
He didn't ask for the 5 trillion credits; he demanded it.
The Director, a sweating, nervous government appointee, stammered, pulling at his collar. "Mr. Anderson, a federal loan of this astronomical size requires physical collateral. We cannot just fast-track the release of five trillion credits of taxpayer money without equal assets pledged against it. It is literally impossible under federal law."
Kniya didn't even blink. "I am the collateral," Kniya smirked, dropping a heavy, leather-bound folder onto the Director's desk. "Kavilson Steel currently holds the DI military supply chain by the fucking throat. If you deny this loan, I will quadruple the price of tank armor tomorrow and bankrupt the Defense Ministry. How's that for a national security guarantee?"
The Director wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "That... that is extortion, sir. Not legal collateral."
"Oh, my bad," Kniya laughed, leaning over the desk. He smoothly slid a secondary, much thinner envelope across the polished wood, pushing it directly into the Director's trembling hand. "Here is the actual collateral. Fifty million credits in untraceable, offshore bearer bonds. For your 'personal retirement fund.' Just to ensure the fast-track paperwork doesn't accidentally get stuck in the mail."
The Director looked down at the thick envelope. He swallowed hard. The moral dilemma lasted exactly two seconds before he smoothly slipped the envelope into his inner suit pocket.
"Your collateral is highly acceptable, Mr. Anderson," the Director whispered, grabbing his heavy brass stamp.
Within a single week, the government red tape completely vanished. Five trillion credits in pure liquidity was injected directly into Kniya's corporate accounts. He was fully armed for a hostile takeover.