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Borgut’s ship, the Dakkajet, rose up through the clouds, and into Da Big Blue. It was time to get his friend back. He had his fancy hat, he had his Bigbadgreen Gunz, all he needed now was his Durkol. nnAs they broke the clouds ahead of their quarry, Borgut’s crew was met by a site that, if they were being honest (they weren’t), was just a little bit worrying. Ahead of them lay a massive field of floating islands amid a sea of clouds. Spread across those islands was row after row of Kharadron workers. On foot, they were mining and building on the islands, smaller ships flew between the islands, flanked by hoards of Skyriggers, and every single one held a weapon. Or four.

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In the center of this field of weaponry and destruction lay the center of operations. A huge mining platform, Skyriggers flying about it, and a familiar Ironclad tied up to the side. Borgut knew, in the depths of his stomach, that that’s where he’d find Durkol. It was time to finish what they had started.

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The Orruks immediately made their way towards to the platform, they were Orruks after all, punch them straight into their face or don’t bother! As the Overlords came to realise the intruder every near ship immediately stopped what they were doing to converge on them. The air around the ship suddenly burst into flame, as round upon round firepower came rocketing towards them. The rats had done their job well though, and a warpfire shield shots up to protect the ship. Bullets, rockets, and bombs ricocheted and exploded all about them. Shards of metal drove right through one of The Five. Roaring another of took a running leap off the side of the ship, landing on a gunship coming up below. Borgut saw the carnage happening on the deck as the orruk leapt between gnawholes, head-butting, punching, and carving Duardin after Duardin. nnDakkajet plowed through the firepower. As a Frigate descended from above, a full crew of Thunderers descended on lines, guns blazing. They went down very fast. The three remaining Brutes throwing them overboard. Skaven ran up the lines, a swarm so large that even Borgut was surprised. Had he realised just how many were now part of his group? The ball of Skaven floating in the sky suddenly fell back onto the Dakkajet, revealing a scrapyard of metal in the shape of a frigate, not a bolt, screw, or nail in site. It fell like a stone. nnThey had continued through the hail or explosions and had drawn up closer to the platform. As the careened ever-closer the Duardin stopped firing, presumably to not endanger the platform or their own Ironclad. nnBorgut roared to his Skaven to take down the Ironclad, and the four Orruks ran leapt from their ship, landing on the platform hard. Rising, they came face to face with a veritable wall of weaponry. The Kharadron roared, a salutation of death, and their weapons roared in reply.

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The four greenskins popped. And reappeared behind the gun-line. As if in slow-motion the Orruks carved a line through the unsuspecting Duardin line. Choppas flashed, green-lightening sparking through the fabric of reality itself. Duardin left and right were trampled through, the Waaagh! pushing the brutes over them, swords, axes and pikes seemingly doing nothing. Duardin went flying through the air, and Smashas launched them into the air, their armour caved in, and masks flying off their heads. And through it all, Borgut engraved his mark into the collective memory of the Kharadron Overlords. Massive shells were hit aside by his huge Smasha, crashing into the platform elements above the fight.

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Destruction reigned.

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As he reached the end of the line, a line of volleyguns poured fire towards the orruk, and as he held his forearms against the onslaught, he laughed. And took another step forward.nnPanting, the orruks smiled at each other when it was done. Now, for the final push. As they made their way up the middle stairs of the platform they came upon a circular platform rotating slowly on top of the rest of the mining platform. In the middle a captain stood. He stood a full head taller then the rest of his crew. Behind him his Ironclad floated, as if bowing to his presence, Borgut’s rats swarming over it, as those on-board fought off the horde. The captain was covered in plated armour, and held up a massive skalfhammer, one side a hammer-head, the other a drill. His head was uncovered, revealing a white and blue mowhawk that struck up into the sky. His beard was made of tentacles of metal, and seemed to have a life of it’s own. It flowed against the wind, and seemed to be making fine adjustments to the Sky-Admiral’s battle-hardened suit. Part of the beard held Durkol to his side, shielding him. The Captain raised his weapon as Borgut stepped forward and made the challenge. nn ‘So, you came for my new friend did you? Well, come and get him!’nnAs he pushed Durkol aside, the Duardin charged the Orruks. They didn’t know what hit them. The drillbit launching towards Borgut part-way through the charge, and as he hit it aside it exploded into a massive detonation that sent two of the orruks off the edge of the platform, shredded before going over the side. As Borgut looked to his side in horror he was suddenly knocked clean off his feet, the skalfhammer taking him on the jaw. The Duardin had moved so fast, and Borgut had realised too late that he was propelled by small explosions under his feet. The other Orruk managed to score a hit, knocking the Duardin to the side, and buying them a precious few split-seconds The maniac laughed, and launched himself back at the greenskin. Back and forth they went, as Borgut slowly got back to his feet, the world spinning. As he picked up his weapon, he want charging forward, his choppa slashing a rip through the atmosphere. The Duardin deflected the blow. Somehow. It occurred to Borgut then, that possibly, just possibly, sometimes it was best not to scream while attacking from behind. That being said, they had now managed to level the playing field. The two Orruks working in tandem, trading blow after blow. Back and forth the trio went, across the platform. Slowly but surely they moved the admiral towards the edge of the platform. nnAs they reached the rim, the orruks began to smirk, they had got him. After all of this, they had cornered him, to his left Borgut’s final Five went for the killing blow. Time slowed. The Duardin swung at the pair, connecting to Borgut’s riptoof and smashing it to pieces, breaking Borguts’s arm in the process. Then, in a fluid motion, the Duardin leapt back to avoid the orruk attacking him, into the air. And stayed there. The greenskin was not so lucky, as the Admiral pushed him to the side, and plummeted over the edge. Borgut couldn’t believe what he was seeing, not that this Duardin floated mid-air, but that he had taken three of them, and had survived! The Duardin just floated there. Emotionless, waiting. Waiting to see if Borgut would attempt the jump, attempt the impossible. nnBorgut took a step forward, and the Duardin smiled.

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‘Wait!’ a call came from behind.nnBorgut faltered, the sound of a familiar voice from behind him cutting through the battle-focus that the Waaagh! had imbued on him. It had been Durkol. Durkol had told him to wait. To wait!? The floating Admiral had also faltered, and was looking over Borgut’s shoulder. Borgut took a step back. Then, for the first time in more moons then Borgut could even think about, Durkol stood in front of him. His arm had been replaced, and now a metal claw hung to the side of a robotic ligament. A portion of his head was also encased in metal.

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‘Please, Borgut, what are you doing ‘ere? Why are you doin’ this?’ the little one asked.

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‘I’m here for you, obviously!?’ Borgut explained, exacerbated, confused.

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‘I’m ‘ere mate, I’ll go with you. I can go with you now.’ he replied. He raised the clawed arm towards the Admiral, ‘but that’s Halverk, Borgut. He saved me Borgut. You don’t need to fight him, this one time, you don’t need to fight.’

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Halverk swept forward, landing on the platform with a clunk. ‘It’s not that easy little friend, this brute has destroyed a quarter of my fleet. He’s attacked us needlessly. And he’s obviously working with the enemy

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The Duardin pointed towards the Ironclad, still swarming with Skaven. ‘The code is clear, this… friend of yours… cannot continue his rampage, even if I wanted it so. Retribution must be paid.’

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Borgut narrowed his eye, hefting the weapon in his good arm, readying himself. But he also looked down at Durkol, looked into his eyes, and saw concern. Not for him, but for this… Duardin! Green lightening flickered along the ground emanating off of him as he breathed deep.

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And dropped his weapon.

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‘I’ll take your ship’

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Borgut looked up, shocked. ‘You wat?’ he replied.

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‘I’ll take your ship,’ Halverk repeated, ‘my name is Halverk Elderstrike, and by the decree of the Code, I hearby remove your ship from you.’

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Borgut couldn’t believe it, this stuntie only wanted his ship!?

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‘You trade me Durkol for my ship?’ he asked the Admiral.

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‘No, I take your ship in payment for the damages you have done. I rather like look of those green guns of yours, not to mention that little shielding trick you’ve got. M little friend here may do what he wants, he’s always been able to do so.’

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Borgut was astonished. ‘And…. and my… uh…. friends…..?’ he asked, gesturing towards the ever-shrinking amount of skaven aboard the Ironclad.

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The Duardin narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t push your luck my friend…’

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And just like that, the battle was over, it leaked out of Borgut as he sagged and fell to his knees. And roared with laughter, reunited with his old friend. n

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