Angle, SABRE and HANS facing off. HANS has a very European dueling style, high stance, pointing directly at SABRE. SABRE is much more… well, pirate.
The lovely night sky past them.
Low angle, past SABRE’S legs, as the HATCHWAY she emerged from earlier opens, and the first of the GUARDS begins scrambling out. They’re trying to be silent.
On HANS, still holding his blade as before. Smirking.
1. HANS: My chances ALONE, Lady Sabre?
2. HANS: No, I do NOT.
Past HANS, to SABRE, and then, behind her, the FOUR GUARDS, all of them now drawing their own blades.
3. HANS: With them however…