Fallout: Memoirs of a Ranger
Shade lay on his stomach perched on a ridge overlooking Shady Sands, using his high grade Pre-war sniper rifle he observed the area waiting for his mark to emerge from the Brass Balls Brothel n' Tavern.
Shade was a hired gun, a merc, a hitman, occasionally making even carrying out black ops. If you had the caps or the tech he'd kill whoever you wanted, his only restriction was killing women, children and genuinely good men -but nobody is truly good in the wastes- due to his warped sense of what I guess could be called honor. His train of thought was interrupted when his mark -some merchant named Jack- stepped out of the Brass Balls. With a few quick clicks of the scope Shade had adjusted his rifle to make up for the mile between him and Jack and accounted for wind and the like.
He followed his target intently for a few moments waiting for the perfect shot. Almost as soon as the man stopped Shade squeezed the trigger, the familiar sound of the silencer on the barrel as the bullet sped towards his target. Barely two seconds later the man's head exploded in a shower blood, brain matter, and skull fragmentations showering all nearby with parts of the man's cranium.
With a quick snicker he muttered 'Pack it up Boys' as he stood swinging his rifle behind his back and taking a measured swill from his canteen. He drew up his black hood and began to stalk away, it was a ways back to the Hub so he could pick up his caps for another job well done. All of a sudden he felt a sharp pain in his back, he reached around puling a tranq dart from his back he barely had time to curse under his breath before his vision became blurry and he fell to the ground, temporarily paralyzed. He noticed what looked like a man step out of the shadows and walk towards his derelict form...
X RADS X
Shade awoke, finding himself tied to a chair. Blinking the weariness from his eyes he looked around in the almost complete blackness, from the dankness he would've guessed he was underground. His head snapped up as he heard the familiar sound of a revolver clicking against a bar... Or maybe it was a chair. Once his eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness he could make out a figure that looked to be dressed in the NCR ranger armor, "Time to pay for all the hits I guess" is what went through his mind. He decided to speak up,
'Well [censored] me, at least you're not a [censored] slaver!'
The Ranger leaned forward and shade could make out his face, 'Well ain't you captain [censored] goddamned Captin' obvious?' Shade chortled at the comment. The Ranger scowled 'Quit [censored] laughin' you were a tough hunt, five goddamned years.' Shade raised his eyebrow,
'So you going to put a bullet in my head or push [censored]in' bamboo under my nails?'
The Ranger gave a harsh laugh replying 'Neither, you're one of the best killers in all the wasteland I'm actually surprised I gotcha'. What we're going to do here is re-purpose you!' the Ranger exclaimed with gusto.
Shade's eyes widened in shock, 'How the hell do you plan on doing that?' the Ranger smirked replying 'Well I know you love killing, you're not some "ladykiller" and you're definitely not a [censored]in' "Childkiller." So I'm proclaimin' you a ranger, plenty qualified in my eyes...'
Shade said scowling 'Still don't get how you're going to get me to cooperate'
The man tapped a finger on his head, 'Well you see, I'm an explosives expert and you've got a bomb in your head.' Shade glared at the man, to angry for words, the Ranger only laughed. 'I'm sergeant Stokes, welcome to the New California Republic Rangers you sonuva[censored]!'