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A crack of Green lightning blasts its way from Gulgrim's outstretched arm and Copper rod, vanishing through any material in its way as it shoots into the sky. A moment later, nothing much appeared to have changed, with the majority of the ships conjured existing too far away from the ground to be easily visible. Another moment later, and the sound of jet engines burning through the sky could be heard as the ramshackle shape of a massive Blitza-Bomma began to descend. As it circled overhead, a second Jet sound could be heard, growing louder as if careening directly towards the companions.
"Zoggin' idiot's gonna run 'imself inta da roof." Gulgrim muttered to himself, pointing his Copper rod toward the noise and unleashing another bolt of green lightning. A moment later, a flash blinks out as an Ork with a rokkit pack strapped to his back appeared through the roof, still keeping his crashing momentum as he sped toward the ground. In a smooth movement, the copper rod retreated into Gulgrim's Cybork arm and the same arm swept up, grasping the descending Ork by the throat. The Stormboy's pack guttered and faltered as it tried to fight against the Avatar of Gork and Mork's iron grip, and the Ork in question gagged as his windwipe was compressed by unfeeling metal fingers. Slamming the Ork into the ground with a bellow of "Report ya Zogwit!" the rokkit pack finally cut out, the planted Ork coughing and sputtering as his neck is released, but a moment later, still supine on the ground, he brought a hand up to his head in a sketchy salute.
"Stormboy Naff Gitkrumpa reportin' sir!" The Stormboy spat out a toof, catching it in his free hand as it fell, and scrambled his way to his feet. "WAAAGH!!! Gulgrim's Battlefleet Goff-ic arrived like you wanted. All ships operashunal, we'z ready fer da fight!"
The Warboss crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder at the rest of the Companions. "Well, me boyz are prepped fer combat. Not dat dat's 'ard, considerin' we'z Orkz. Show me da battle-lines, an' I'll get 'em deployed."