The bridge was one of the few ancient overbuilt stone structures that had survived the war intact, probably because not even a bomb was willing to touch something so ugly. It was barely wide enough for a car to drive over and the river that rushed below was a raging torrent. Stone statues had been added in an attempt to beautify the structure, but it was beyond help. Thankfully the rain had finally chosen to stop.

I slung my rifle across my chest and tossed my duffle aside as I walked. Gershwin flicked the safety off his shotgun. "Remember, we're here to convert instead of kill." He said. "There's no way we can win in a straight fight."

Parked at the far end of the bridge was an armored personnel carrier, its auto-cannon and domed sensor suite squatting on the roof like a phallic gargoyle. The rear hatch dropped with a thud that shook the bridge and out strode Ruhern.

He walked with großer schwanz confidence of a hund that had everything, except fucks left to give. From the cut of his black and white blazer to his perfectly groomed tricolor fur his very presence demanded attention and respect. Happily he puffed on his cigar as he strode towards us, not a care in the world.

"I was worried that you had gotten lost!" Ruhern called out in perfect Döbian. Everything from his tone to inflection gave the impression of a native speaker. He stopped mid stride and there was a supersonic crack as a sniper's bullet passed through where he would have been, had he not somehow known it was coming. "Oh good!" He laughed good naturedly, undisturbed by the attempt on his life. "It seems Sacher is here too."

I looked to Gershwin who pointed at the personnel carrier. It bristled with guns and sensors. "He's probably packbound with it, be careful."

As he walked Ruhern dodged another bullet before coming to a stop behind a stone statue. My wetware pinged a dozen Möhin bruisers armed to the teeth and at least a dozen more enforcers who were not augmented. They waited patiently across the bridge, barely paying us any attention.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"That should keep the worst of it away, at least until he circles around." Ruhern looked over at us. He was taller than me, probably a product of hybrid vigor judging by his mixed color fur. He would have been beautiful if not for the scar that etched its way from the bottom of his left eye down to the corner of his muzzle, locking half his face into a permanent snarl. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another cigar. "Would you like one?" He asked.

I shrugged and walked up to him, he took the cigar out of his mouth and offered it so I could see that he wasn't trying to poison me. "Much obliged." I said as I took it, Ruhern lit another cigar and lit it with a beat up lighter from his jacket pocket. The lighter bore an emblem of a winged dagger with the words "WHO DARES WINS" engraved into it, the motto of the Möhi special air service.

I took a puff, predictably it was excellent. The band indicated it was from one of the katzen territories. My sensors in my mouth found no trace of poison, but there was a hint of bergamot and honey from where Ruhern's lips had touched it. "This is quite fine." I remarked. "It tastes like grassy hay with a magnificent vanilla and cream finish. Thank you for this, it's like nothing I've ever had before."

"It's my pleasure to share." Ruhern smiled. "After the calamity they switched to a more disease resistant strain of tobacco and the flavor just wasn't the same. It makes me very sad to think that eventually there will be no more corojo cigars left in the world."

"But not sad enough to stop smoking them." I observed.

"Cigars are made to be smoked." Ruhern shrugged, sending echoes of myself and Gershwin running through my mind. "Besides, everything has its season. Like us they become better with age, but eventually they begin to decline. You are enjoying them at the peak of their flavor, wouldn't you wish to be experienced at your best?"

"I would." I admitted. "I must ask, haven't we met before? You seem familiar to me."

"No, I've never had the pleasure of your company." Ruhern laughed. "Our father made sure of that, he wanted us kept separate."

My head snapped over to look at Gershwin who had frozen, his face contorted with rage. It was the intense anger of one who has planned for years only to see their efforts crash and burn. "Hello, daughter of mine." He hissed. "I liked you better in your original form."

"You never liked me at all, father." The gangster spat. "That's why you gave me to Sacher." He turned to look at me. "Perhaps I should introduce myself, my name is Edel Braverhund. Though most know me as Kasha Sacher, and now I'm known as Ruhern. Our little family is complicated, isn't it?"

"That's putting things lightly." I replied.