Tech Digest writes: "The sun bears down on a dusty, scorched town, the only island of habitation for miles in a sea of sand and rock. You ride in and hitch your horse. All is quiet barring the throaty spit of the degenerate waiting at the far end of the main drag. His posse have terrorised the local townsfolk into submission, the pretty price on his head having brought you here. You square up, tense but focused. He reaches for his revolver. You fire off a single round, its crack echoing through the empty streets, scaring crows from the rafters of a nearby saloon. He sighs and crumbles. The streets are returned to silence. You mount your horse and ride out, knowing that whatever place you reach, violence is the only certainty you'll meet."