Beserker!

<clip>
What who put you in charge, and who are you?" Snapped Jack.
"I am you, I am Brigadier Jack…"
"Smeg! Why are you in Keats's body then?" interrupted Dante.
"Well…"
"And make sure some one kills that emohawk cos I really could do
with all the courage I can muster, and at the mo I am running on
fumes and
Phil's prep talk."
"Will do buddy." Shouted back Jack as ushered everyone a different
route
out.
Dante leapt into the air vanished and landed on the head of the shinny
beast. "Yippy Ki Yay Mother F**KA"
<end clip>
Keats had fallen and had his head tucked between his knees.
'Gettit out.. gettit out... GETTIT OUT!!'
He was slowly going insane, Jacks persona was fighting with his own,
and this turned his ID and Psyche into a neural Battle ground.
Keats stood bolt upright clutching his head.
He ran from the rest of the pack, thorough the swampy grounds, away
from the battle. He didnt know where he was going, except, he didnt
want to be anywhere near here.
'Ahhhhhhhhhh... GET THE HELL OUT!'
Keats stumbled, rolled and landed sprawled out in the cess.
He started to bang his head on the ground, trying to force out the
invading psyche.
<meanwhile, about 50 swampy, Jacks sweatband smelly meters away>
'Ok, you have your orders men. Spread out and form up a firing
patern, you have your orders. Kill the scum from the Blue Ship.
Dismissed'
The 10 men stamed to attention withing nanoseconds of each other.
These were no ordinary plebs.
<to keats>
Keats threw the Gun aside, struggled onto his feet and fell back
again. Pulling himself to a siting posistion, he started to cry
softly.
'Just get out of my head... just get out... get out... G...GET OUT OF
MY SMEGGING HEAD!'
He stood up again, awash with rage and anger and pain. He Screamed
out a challenge to the world, his power, the 'Keatsy sense' fueled
his emotions, he saw everything that was going to happen to him. The
two psyches, that of the nimble Keats, and that of the trained
brigadier, had merged due to the intense stress. He smiled.
The plebes nearby watched caustiously. The commander used a voice
thread to contact his underlings.
'Take aim men, execute him on my mark...'
He had his hand out. Keats looked him in the eyes.
'MARK!'
10 bursts of slugs lanced out from their assault rifles. Keats had
forsawn this with his Keatsy sense, and, whislt smiling, expertly
dodged each shot with an eleganty dance, he jumped and grabbed a
branch infront of him, using this momentum, he swung forwards,
twisting in the air to avoid the next wave of metal slugs.
'MARK!'
Another volley. Keats wasnt in their scopes now, he spiralled
throough the air and landed neatly amist one of the 4 Fire Teams that
had spread out. His first hand shot out and grabbed the soldier by
his neck, tore his fingers through his throat and head-butted him. He
fell, the others glanced at each other, and threw themselves at him.
'Mark!'
'Sir, thats our own guys!'
'I SAID MARK!'
They fired.
Keats grabbed the two mens side-arms, span on the spot and brought
his arm around one soldiers neck, snapped it, and used it as a bullet
shield form the oncoming volley of shots, the other plebe was torn
down by the 'Friendly-fire'. He pulled off his Int-Armour, and used
it as a shield, ran, and jumped through the next volley of shots.
'RELOAD! RELOAD! FIRE AT WILL!'
7 clicks signalled that the guns had changed from burst to automatic.
'DIE DIE DIE DIE!'
He threw himself at the next fire team, discarded the wasted Int-
Armour Jacket, and dived staright into a bull-rush. The two soldier
with him took the opertunity to fire at his exposed spine. Keats had
forseen this with his 'Keatsy sense' and rolled at an inhuman speed.
<tag>
OOC- I cant ake them all on....