For Horatio Oberon Twitchgrove, the war had never ended. He fought as a child, as a teenager, as an adult. He fought into his twilight years. War was all he had ever known. Peacetime? Hah, like he could change now. It just meant trading his general's uniform for a crimelord's mantle. He proceeded with the same ruthless abandon as ever. Oh, he might be old now, battle-worn and broken-even wheelchair-bound. But he had his children. His grown children...