something stinks, and Keats is NOT in the room....

'Ummm, i think i might join you guys to... guys, GUYS!!!' John
backed away from the bug, it smiled, this especially spooked Keats as
it had no visible features to smile with, never the less, it grinned
a horrible pointy, sharp armoured death at him. Crashes sounded from
behind him, the others were slightly more on the ball than old wall
eyes, they had jumped down the shute that he had climbed out of
minutes ago. The spidery thing that later hed know of
as 'Hymenoptera' advanced. 'Well sod this for a lark!' John turned
and threw himself towards the shute, banging his head harshly on the
inside. He was vaguely aware of panicked shoutings, loud screachings
and cheerful 'whooping' from furhter down the shute. 'Funny' he
thought, he hadnt noticed that the thing branched off every so
often....
Several loud thuds sounded out in an old crew quarter, followed by a
slightly louder one symbolising deans arrival on top of the rest. he
was smiling. 'Well that was bloody fun! except for the
hymtoajobbilydude up there... umm, wheres the new guy, wheres keats?'
Keats awoke lying down in a heap in wat was he thought was some kind
of engine room. His visor was cracked, but luckily, except being
slightly smelly, the air was breathable, he hoped...
'Cor blimey! Something stinks down 'ere' the gordie voice of one of
jacks more random personalities pierced the silence. 'You think that
greeat spidey, thingy, whatever got him? how the fook do you kiel it?'
'Drink...' tara mutterd. Several of the male party looked up at the
sound of alcohol. 'It seems to cease to exist when bathed in
alcohol'. Jack looked thoughtful for a moment " 'ow does it geet
pissed?' Alota punched him.
Keats wander aimlessly forward, his bazookoid was a writeoff, the
barrel was snapped in two places and it oozed. He looked up, the room
was a few metres high. breathing in, he swore. tho, this wasnt a
normal casual swear words, this one was loud enough to make a few
tables turn over near him, and the pope who was quietly dining in the
vatican back on earth flinched. He picked up his fletchette gun, 2
rounds left. He looked around for a map or some kind of wall chart,
the words 'Ballistic Land Offensive Bay' loomed on the side of the
room, several tracked vehicles were quietly sitting there. John
smiled a very devious smile before quietly walking forward to inspect
a few hed used before in a TIR. The M25 'Road Clearer' specially
designed anti congestion tank, brought into servise mid 2003
following the collapse of some goverment scheme to get more cash from
the large cities, not practical in this situation he decided.
AB 'Boarer' Tank, used against bunkers, pierces practically any
armour, designed for one man. 'Perfect' Decided Keats, and jumped in.
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