Cybernetic Lawmen‽

Dust blew against the weather-bleached walls of the Somerset Saloon as three-hundred pounds of augmented flesh met the ground with a thud. The big Clydesdale gelding tied to the hitching rail watched as his rider set off towards the building, each heavy footfall causing an eruption of dirt around the man's worn black riding boots.

As he stepped onto the boardwalk, the wood creaked and strained under the focused load. His eyes were cold and yellow, poised like those of a big cat ready to pounce, yet his features were drawn and expressionless. A dark kerchief covered his mouth and nose, and his heavy black duster coat lapped at his heels as he walked.

Hank Gunther looked up from the glass he was wiping with a spotless white rag when the batwing doors to his saloon creaked open. Casting a deep shadow over the large room, there stood a stranger. Silence was a town of few residents and fewer visitors - each new arrival was an event of particular note.

His eyes flicked down, taking in the ornately engraved twin revolvers the man wore tied-down on his hips as he walked swiftly to the bar. Seated around at the tables were several groups of people gambling. All of them were now transfixed on the stranger, sensing trouble. All but one, a well dressed young man who took advantage of his table's distraction to place a few extra aces in his hand.