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Mercury Rising

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RowanTheFox:
Since my internet at home is dead and the internet I still have access to is spotty at best, I'm breaking this up into smaller bite-size pieces.

Mercury Rising

   “Michael!” The young elf woman’s cry rang out amongst the gunfire. She fought against the two runners who were dragging her away. “Let me go!”
   The room spun around him. He was hurt and disoriented. A strong blow to the head had stunned him badly enough to force him back into human form. He turned his head, and was punished for it by a wave of dizziness and nausea. He reached a hand out. “Susanna…” He rasped hoarsely. He yelped as a heavy boot slammed down on his wrist, pinning it to the pavement. He looked up, and saw the blurry outline of a metahuman. The gun pointed at his chest, however, was clear and sharp.
   “Michael!” Her voice warped as the darkness closed in. He saw the gunman’s trigger finger tighten, and cast one last spell. “No, Michael!”
   A bright flash, and a piercing shriek. “MICHAEL!”
   He jerked awake and slammed his head against the cold metal. It was pitch black, and freezing cold. He felt around with his hands, his movements growing more frantic as panic set in. He realized he was in a body freezer and tried to scream, but he could barely catch his breath. He slammed his fists against the top of the freezer, and heard a muffled voice from the other side of the door. He felt a wave of dread wash over him. Who owned the morgue he was in? There was a loud click as the maglock disengaged. The slab slid out, and he sprang up to run. His numb legs had other plans, and gave out from under him.
   “Whoa, hey! Take it easy, omae.” Wait a tick. He knew that voice. He looked up and saw a kindly old man. He opened his mouth to speak while the man draped a trauma blanket over Michael’s shivering frame.
   “Susanna…” Michael croaked. “Th-they took Susanna.”
   “Who did?”
   “I would like to know that as well.” A female voice cut in. Michael looked up, and saw a dark haired elf looking at him with a mix of shock and concern.
   “Ghostwalker.” Nadja paled at Michael’s reply.
   “You’re telling me Ghostwalker is behind this?”
   Michael nodded. “His goons wiped most of us out, and dragged Susanna away. Probably so Ghostwalker can use her to find out where the remaining members of Assets Inc. are.” He shook, and his voice cracked. “Nadja, I have to get her back.”
   “No, we need to get you somewhere safe. You’re still weak, and if Ghostwalker truly is behind this, I can’t protect you. I came here to identify your body, and the bodies of your parents. I don’t want to have to come back down here again.”
   Michael leaped to his feet, and immediately regretted it. His head spun, and he staggered against the cold metal slab. He broke down into tears. “I can’t just leave her there. Do you have any idea what that fragging wizwyrm will do to her?”
   “Yes, actually.” She snapped. “Don’t forget that I was Dunkelzahn’s voice until his death.”
   “Then help me, dammit!”
   “Getting her back would be suicide. No one is powerful enough to challenge a great dragon.”
   “Actually, that’s not true.” The old man cut back in. Nadja and Michael swiveled their heads to look at him. A look of dawning realization passed over Nadja’s face.
   “Of course!” Michael gave her a look of confusion. “Harlequin! He dueled with Ghostwalker after Aina Dupree's death and might have actually won if the fight hadn't been stopped.”
   “Harlequin?" Michael sounded unsure. "Would he even be willing to help me?”
   “He despises Ghostwalker, and knew Ryan well. I’m sure you could convince him once he's informed of your father's death, and who is responsible for it.”
   “Ok..." He rubbed his temples. His head still hurt. "Where is he?”
   Nadja smirked. “Somewhere safe. I can get you there, but after that you're on your own.”

RowanTheFox:
        It took months of backroom deals, bribery, and burning every last contact he had, but Michael was finally on a plane to Europe. Nadja had filled him in on the details of where he was going. Schwangau. It was the capital of Altarraum, a young kingdom in southern Bavaria. It had quickly turned into a haven for his kind, as well as other freaks, weirdos, and outcasts. It was also where Harlequin had been spending the majority of his time lately. Nadja told him that his contact would meet him there, and to wait at the local no-tell motel. His eyes darted around the plane with increasing paranoia. No one seemed to be paying him any mind, but that didn’t do much to console him. Finally, exhaustion got the better of him, and he drifted off to sleep.
   “Sir?” Michael jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. A young flight attendant smiled at him. “The plane has landed, sir.”
   Michael rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. He nodded at the attendant. “Thank you.” He disembarked and picked his bag up at the luggage carousel. He walked up to the customs desk, and felt a nervous lump form in his throat. Would the fake SIN Nadja supplied be good enough here? Did it get burned back when he boarded the plane back in DeeCee? A hundred what-ifs passed through his mind, before the sound of a throat clearing snapped him out of it. A middle aged ork was giving him a judgmental stare over the top of her glasses.
   “Your passport, herr.” She spoke with a thick German accent.
   “Right, sorry.” Michael chuckled nervously as he sent his passport over from his commlink to hers. There was an agonizing pause as her commlink mulled over his paperwork. There was a happy beep, and he relaxed. The ork smiled at him.
   “Welcome to Schwangau, Herr Quecksilber.”
   He grabbed his bag and hoofed it out of the airport, and over to the motel. He had no money left for a cab, so he had to make the trip on foot. He was slightly taken aback by how eclectic Schwangau looked. The new blended seamlessly with the old. Gleaming plasteel buildings intermixed with the old German architecture. The city’s citizens were a modge podge of every metatype, metavariant, and metasapient. Orks, Trolls, Elves, Human, Dwarves, Naga, Sasquatch, Changelings, and he even saw a troupe of four Nartaki juggling in the city square, with a free spirit off to the side breathing fire for the crowd’s amusement. He could see Neuschwanstein Castle sitting up on the hill, overlooking the city. He paused and stared for a moment. Harlequin was up there, he had to be.
   He made it to his hotel after walking for what felt like hours, which wasn’t far from the castle at all. He trudged up to his room after getting his key at the front desk. Already paid for, thank you Nadja. He tossed his bag to the side, and flopped down on the bed. His mind was racing again. Would Harlequin be willing to help him? He knew the damned elf would want something in return, but what? He glanced at his hand, and fiddled with his wedding ring. His jaw tightened. It didn’t matter what Harlequin wanted. All that mattered now was getting Susanna back, no matter the price. He sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall.
   THUD. THUD. THUD.
   The sound of someone pounding on his door snapped Michael awake. He blinked to clear his vision and reorient himself. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. He rolled out of bed, and tried to fix his messy black hair, to no avail. He peered out the peephole, and saw a hooded figure staring back at him. “Who is it?” He asked. His voice betrayed his nervousness.
   “Your contact.” A feminine and distinctly German voice replied coolly. He rushed to disengage the maglock and opened the door. The woman stepped inside, and motioned for him to close the door, which he did. She pulled her hood back, and Michael paled. It was the queen. Nadja had set up a meeting between him and the fragging queen!
   “Your majesty.” He wasn’t sure what the proper procedure was, so he simply bowed his head. The queen chuckled.
   “Please, it’s Maisie.” She sat in the cheap plastic chair in the corner of the room. “I have been told you wish to speak with Harlequin.”
   “Yes, desperately.”
   “Your friend, Nadja, left out why.”
   The wheels turned in Michael’s head, but he decided to be forthright. “Ghostwalker destroyed the drake sanctuary, wiped out most of Assets Inc. and has taken my wife hostage. I need Harlequin to get her back.”
   “I see.” She seemed to mull it over for a minute. “You know he’ll want something in return.”
   Michael nodded. “My wife will most likely be held close to Ghostwalker. Probably in his lair. If Harlequin helps me get her back, he’ll get the chance to poke around the lair of his mortal enemy.”
   “That is tempting.” Michael jumped as another elf appeared beside him. Without the face paint, he almost didn’t recognize him. “So, Ryan and Azadeh are dead.”
   “They died defending the drake sanctuary, along with most of the others. A few managed to escape, mostly women and children, but I don’t know if they made it far. I haven’t found a trace of any of them.”
   “How did you survive?”
   Michael pulled his shirt to the side, revealing a nasty scar on his chest. “I almost didn’t. I cast a hibernate spell at the last minute, and it slowed my heart rate down so I wouldn’t bleed out. Woke up the next day in the morgue.”
   “Made it easy to dump your old identity as well. As far as anyone knows, Michael Mercury is dead.” Maisie interjected. “You’ll need more than just Harlequin to rescue your wife. You need funding, supplies, and a damn good runner team. I can supply those things.”
   “For a price.” Michael finished her sentence. Maisie nodded.
   “There is an empty seat on the High Council that needs to be filled. I’m offering that seat to you. Promise me your loyalty, serve my kingdom as a member of the High Council, and I will help you get your wife back.”
   Michael was flabbergasted. A seat on the High Council? What was she playing at? He narrowed his eyes at her, and there it was. There was the slightest hint of fear in her gold eyes. Her kingdom, and her rule over it was still young and hadn’t yet solidified. She needed allies to cement her sovereignty. Even though the average person would have no idea who he is, the dragons and the immortal elves certainly would. Having the son of Ryan Mercury by her side would give her more political heft within those circles. She needed that heft desperately, and was willing to pay well for it. He smirked.
   “Alright, fine. I’ll serve on your High Council.” His face took on a darker expression. “But only if Susanna is found alive. If she’s been killed, then I have no more reason to stay here.”
   “That is fair.”
   “It’ll take a lot of luck to pull this off, but I think I know just the runner who can do it.” Harlequin piped up.
   “Oh?” Michael turned to look at him. “Who?”
   “A man known as Wild 7s. He’s a free drake, and is probably the luckiest bastard on the planet. He also has his own reasons for hating Ghostwalker.”
   “He’s not just lucky. He’s also clever, and very good at what he does. He’s been in the game for a long time. Longer than I’ve been alive, actually.” Maisie leaned back and crossed her legs. “I will have one of my Mr. Johnsons contact him.”
   Michael heaved a heavy sigh of relief, and sat on the end of the bed. For the first time in months, he felt hope again.

Dwagonzhan:
Welp. Time to write a heist against a dragon lair and make the shadows proud.

RowanTheFox:

--- Quote from: Dwagonzhan on ---Welp. Time to write a heist against a dragon lair and make the shadows proud.

--- End quote ---

God's speed, my friend, and good luck. -tips cavalier hat and vanishes in a puff of silvery mist-

RowanTheFox:
        Michael sat back in his chair and fumed. Months of planning had gone into this one heist, and she wasn’t even there. Susanna had been Ghostwalker’s prisoner for over a year at this point, and all he’d been able to recover is proof that she still lived.
   “So, what’s the plan now?” He asked without looking at the telecom screen.
   “We have one of Ghostwalker’s eggs. We’ve brought in the Sea Dragon to broker a hostage exchange. He gives us Susanna, we give him back the egg.” Harlequin replied with a hint of mischief in his voice. Michael raised an eyebrow and looked over at the screen. The elf’s smirk matched the tone of his voice.
   “You don’t plan on giving him the egg back at all, do you?”
   “How do you think we convinced the Sea Dragon to help us?”
   “Clever, but I doubt Ghostwalker will take that lying down.”
   “Certainly not, but the Sea Dragon’s involvement complicates matters for him. If he plays nice, then there’s a chance he can negotiate with her to get his egg back. If he doesn’t, he’ll never see it again.”
   Michael’s head spun. Draconic politics had that effect on most people. “Just get her back.”
   Harlequin’s face grew hard. “Michael, Ghostwalker killed my oldest and closest friend. I won’t let anything happen to your wife. I will get her back alive, even if only to spite him.” He nearly spat the last few words, and the telecom beeped off.
   He leaned back in his chair again and fiddled with the gold band on his left hand. He pulled it off, and read the Persian engraving on the inside edge. Ᾱtashé del-am, a phrase meaning “Fire of my heart”. Michael spoke, read, and wrote the language fluently, as it was his mother’s native tongue. Susanna had only just begun to learn before their wedding, and it was one of the first phrases he taught her. His mind jumped back to when they first met. He’d gotten into an argument with his dad, it seemed so pointless now, but he had stomped off with all of the annoyed rage that only a teenager can muster. He’d made his way to a nearby park, and sat on a park bench, glowering and resisting the urge to growl at passers-by. He had been staring at his feet when a small shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw a cute elf girl smiling at him, holding out a daisy. She looked to be about his age, and was well-dressed. He guessed her parents were reasonably wealthy, a corp kid perhaps?
        “Daisy?” She had a southern drawl, and her green eyes glittered with youthful innocence.
        “Uh, sure. Thanks.” He took the flower from her hands and twirled it between his fingers. He was surprised when she sat beside him.
        “What brings you out here?” She asked.
        “I could ask you the same thing. Corp kids don’t exactly fit in around here.” He grumbled. She scoffed, and hit him with the sleeve of her oversized pullover.
        “I am not a corp kid! My dad’s a doctor!”
        “Ok, ok, I’m sorry.” He couldn’t help but laugh. She was woefully innocent, probably sheltered by her parents.
        “I want to become a doctor too, but I’m not quite old enough to get into medical school yet. So,” She held up her basket of flowers. “I hand out daisies.”
        “That’s kinda weird.”
        “Not really. So many people live every day on the edge. Sometimes a kind smile or a pretty flower is all it takes to convince someone to take a step back from that edge.” She said it so matter-of-factly that it caught him off guard. Maybe she wasn’t so innocent after all. She smiled again, and spent the next few hours handing out her flowers. It didn’t take long for her sweetness to rub off on him, and he was soon helping her.
        “Name’s Michael, by the way. My friends call me Mike or Mickey.” No they didn’t. He stretched his arms out in a not-so-subtle attempt to flex his non-existent muscles and impress her. She gave him a sideways smirk that told him she saw through his bulldrek. Nice going, Casanova.
        “Nice to meet you, Michael. I’m Susanna.” The memory faded. He chuckled sadly, and put the ring back on.
        The hours ticked past at an agonizing pace, and he grew increasingly tense. Had something gone wrong? He perked up at a sound that drowned out the irritating ticks of the ancient grandfather clock, voices. He jumped up and peeked through the blinds, his heart jumped into his throat. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but he saw Harlequin pointing at the house where Michael was waiting for them. Running beside him was the drake, Wild 7s, and in the drake’s arms was Susanna. He ran downstairs and reached the lower landing just as they came through the front door. Wild 7s set Susanna down on her feet. She was dazed, and her wrists were bleeding from raw wounds left by some kind of restraint, but she was alive.
        “Dove…” After over a year, he could hardly believe it.
        “Michael?” She narrowed her eyes, as if she didn’t believe it was really him. Her voice was weak and hoarse.
        “It’s me, dove.” He held her wrists and healed them. She stared at them for a few moments, then looked up at her husband. Her face crumpled and her knees gave out from under her. He caught her and held her tightly while she sobbed into his chest. “It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now.” He wiped her tears, and kissed the top of her head. “You’re safe.”

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