The sound of steady typing echoed throughout the penthouse office of the NAM Main Complex. Melchoir noticed that he spent less time working on new innovations and more time on the mountains of paperwork that has piled up. He was wearing his usual surgical apron, but this time the blood was his.
If there was a reason why that Wazu left NAM was probably not because it would be fun riding the pride of Nerimian technology, or he got bored. No..., it has to be the stress. The numerous projects vying for attention, the 24-7 security, the death threats and of course! The paperwork...
It was thanks to the paperwork that NAM had not crumbled under the pressure and covert efforts of older rival companies that would like to bring the upstart to their knees, to show that Nepleslia was wrong to shoo them away and put so much hope on NAM. The kind of personal attention he gave to the various teams working under him had kept their spirits up. NAM does not pay as well as Novacorp, or has the experience of Zen or Geshrinari. If anything Melchoir can give his men, it would be moral support.
A single drop of crimson liquid dripped from the elder Vel Steyr's nose down to the apron. Melchoir uttered a small curse under his breath and jabbed a nasal spray up his nostrils, sending a cloud of medical nanobots that would seal the rupture. It was unmistakable that the toll was taking on his health, which was amusingly inverse that of the company's well being.
About a month ago there was a rocket attack upon the building which took out a few windows, the culprit was a day old clone which knew nothing except to use the launcher in his hand and where to aim it. It was obviously a result from the efforts NAM and the SAoN had been taking to curb the rampant cloning that threatened to boil over. Melchoir responded by installing a CPS Shield wall around the 10ha complex and tightening security. The attacks slowly lessened in frequency as the aggressors realized that a handheld RPG isn't going to cut it anymore. But oddly it was only then that Melchoir started having his nosebleed problem.
Melchoir stopped typing and leaned back on his chair. His office was only illuminated by his table lamp which heightened the feeling of loneliness, heck, even Elise was missing. He was on buddy terms with his department heads, but the sheer demand for new designs and the continual improvements of existing ones had kept them equally as busy as their boss. If there was someone he would really want to be with him right now, it would be the other Vel Steyr siblings.
He flashed a look to the gold watch on his shelf which he had broken, but never got around repairing it. His younger brother, Karl Vel Steyr, had plenty of issues on his own. Obviously the Nepleslian mafia had caught on the connection between Karl and him. Recently in addition to being harassed, Karl's shipping business which he inherited from father had experienced a higher than normal rate of pirate attacks, no doubt their selection of targets had been influenced by third parties.
Melchoir scribbled the words "Space Superiority Fighterâ€