It's not the most creative thing, but if North wants to have an infinite weapons locker Cortana's not going to argue, and sticks close to his back. While he's shooting, an almost subliminal rising hum fills the air as she seeks the resonant frequency of the crystalline creatures. When she finds the tone, it crescendos in a monster- (and ear-) shattering blast, dampened in North's case by both his helmet and Cortana playing some acoustics tricks with sound waves cancelling each other out. She's a very considerate partner when she's not busy calling the human half of any given fireteam an idiot.
Meanwhile, Cortana muses on tactics. Right now the Legionnaires are only reacting, and that's bad. It puts them constantly a step behind, pure foolishness when they can do anything they can imagine. Playing this like a normal firefight with slightly cooler toys is playing to lose, especially against people with more practice at this game of fancies and the time to lay plans. Any half-bright criminal in the 31st century ought to have thought up countermeasures against teleportation, but moving themselves isn't the only way to negate defense in depth.
"North. Put up your shield. And maybe think up a Warthog or a Scorpion or something." In the time it takes his organic nerves and brain to process that--Theta can take over if things go too slowly--Cortana does the math and reaches out around them to fold reality like so much cloth. An AI capable of piloting through the 11 dimensions of slipspace has no trouble with the mere five or six it takes to loop their little patch of spacetime through a few exotic transforms and superimpose it on the place they want to be.
no subject
Meanwhile, Cortana muses on tactics. Right now the Legionnaires are only reacting, and that's bad. It puts them constantly a step behind, pure foolishness when they can do anything they can imagine. Playing this like a normal firefight with slightly cooler toys is playing to lose, especially against people with more practice at this game of fancies and the time to lay plans. Any half-bright criminal in the 31st century ought to have thought up countermeasures against teleportation, but moving themselves isn't the only way to negate defense in depth.
"North. Put up your shield. And maybe think up a Warthog or a Scorpion or something." In the time it takes his organic nerves and brain to process that--Theta can take over if things go too slowly--Cortana does the math and reaches out around them to fold reality like so much cloth. An AI capable of piloting through the 11 dimensions of slipspace has no trouble with the mere five or six it takes to loop their little patch of spacetime through a few exotic transforms and superimpose it on the place they want to be.