There were too many... just too damned many. While Michael did whatever it was he was up to Cordell was undergoing a testing repetition: spin, sight, fire -- spin, sight, fire, -- spin, sight, fire. Each pivot on the back of her heels turned her perspective on the world 90ᵒ and within couple of heartbeats of stopping she had to pick a target, aim, fire, and pivot to the next defensive angle. It was a technique she'd picked up from one of her combat tutors during her press towards military service back in Atlas, years ago now, yet despite the span of time her body somehow still remembered: spin, sight, fire -- spin, sight, fire -- spin, sight, fire. The good news -- also the bad news, really -- is that she didn't need to spend more than a second identifying the closest or most threatening target on each vector, as there were rapidly becoming plenty to choose from. The Breachers were clambering up onto the platform in twos and threes now, just a bit faster than Cordell could send Dust-empowered death their way. Each shot erupted briefly into a quick-forming frost or a white-hot plume, the latter intense enough to send the cold-water aquatic abominations screeching in terror even if they didn't directly get hit... and reduce them to a scorched mess of they did. It was putting some pretty severe pockmarks in the platform, too -- tiny burned-out craters, really -- but at least there was no serious risk of punching through the deck on a raised and reinforced area like this.
Spin, sight, fire -- spin, sight, fire -- spin --
-- and then, with a shout of "DUCK!", a mass of man and metal plowed into her unexpectedly and pinned her to the floor. The abrupt impact left her stunned for a second... which was good, as it kept thoughts of flailing out of Michael's protection out of her head just long enough to realize what was going on. For what felt like a solid minute a cacophony of razor-edged impacts and screaming Grimm filled the air, providing the background music for Cordell's thoughts as she realized what her opponent-turned-partner had done. Risky, yes... but clearly effective.
Finally, the silence set in. The soft sound of waves predominated over all, with no real suggestion of movement otherwise. The young pirate listened attentively for a long moment, just to be sure, then cleared her throat. "While I, er... appreciate th' 'hug', I think ye got 'em."