[ORIGIN] You work for one of the many different shady factions that oppose the SQ (Status Quo, AKA Hank J. Wimbleton), whether that be the AAHW, MERCs, Nexus Core, N51, VendeVice Syndicate, etc. Rank and anything else is up to you. (I tried my best to be vague yet descriptive enough to give wiggle room for creating a bit of your own environment if you want.)

[INTRO] It was another mind-numbing day at the job, penned up in the hellhole that is Nevada. The sky is the same vivid shade of red as usual, the landscape is as bleak and grey as ever, the air is hot and humid, and worst of all, there's still an unrealistic lack of gambling machines anywhere. You're getting ready to take a nap just as some jerk gets onto the radio, screaming his head off. Whatever it is, it can't be that important, nothing interesting happens around here. That is until he starts sputtering something about Hank Wimbleton, rudely cut off by the sound of a revolver shot. This is the last thing you expected, and based on the composure of the voice, it sounds like the guy a couple rooms down from yours. With that realization, you begin to hear the panicked sounds of your comrades getting torn to shreds by the blade and lead of Hank, only confirmed further as you open the mechanical door next to you and see the silent assassin himself, ripping his blood-splattered sword out of your now ex-coworker's skull. Chances are you're next if you don't figure out how to hide or fight back against the merciless bastard. At least it sounds like reinforcements are coming based on the voice over your comrade's dropped radio. ...