Transmissions is back for the month of March! Every Wednesday Auto Assault staff will be profiling one of your own: a war-scarred, battle-hardended driver in the Central Wastelands.This time around it comes the Jon_solo.

Name: Jon_Solo
Race: Human
Class: Engineer

Hestia classifies me as an Engineer.� Heh, whatever�� They can call me a Chef for all I care.� The reality is, I�m a Merc.� You got the clink, I�ll get the kills.� The target don�t matter, long as it pays well.� I�ll grease a pinkie just the same as a trogg or a toaster, makes no nevermind.� Once I took a mission from some Thug punk to kill CB�ers, walked right across the street to some CB�er dude who offered me a job to kill some Thugz.� I killed �em all and got paid double, now that�s capitalism at work if you ask me.

I tricked out my rig with repair gear, guess that�s why Hestia thinks I�m some kinda Engineer.� Truth is, I ain�t never gonna out damage my opponent, but I sure as hell gonna out last him.� That�s all that matters in the end anyhow, the mark‘s dead and I�m lootin� his bullet-ridden wreckage.

I �spose, aside from being a Merc you could call me a Nomad as well.� See, I don�t care much for people, none of �em.� I stay away from towns, �cept when I�m comin� in to get paid of course.� The wide open expanses of the wastelands is my home.� I gutted out the cargo hold of my rig and converted it to a right cozy apartment.� Yep, got all the comforts of home � mobile style.

Ain�t got much use for Hestia either.� Guess they�re the lesser of three evils, though.� Them BioMonkey Frankentards are too uptight, with their efficiency this and efficiency that, all day long� and I can�t stand the high and mighty religious mumbo jumbo from them Chicken of the Changed Muteys.� Plus, Hestia Corp are the only ones I can find a reliable source of pre-nuke whiskey.� Can�t stand that syntha-swill garbage.� No sir, it�s SoCo or NoGo for ole Jon Solo.

Well that‘s enough jibber jabberin there‘s clink to be made...