SABRE has spread the map on the TABLE, her eyes bright, a grin on her face as she reads it. DRAKE and DRUM are exchanging looks over her.
1. SABRE/small: Ohh, brilliant.
2. SABRE/small: Ever-loving-brilliant.
DRAKE and DRUM each stepping out of the way as SABRE suddenly springs between them, for the door.
3. SABRE: WEST!
4. SABRE: WESTFIELD THANE!
At the door to the cabin. WEST is there. We might, correctly, assume that he’s been standing right there all this time.
5. WEST: Captain?
6. SABRE: Set course nor-nor’west, as much canvas as she’ll take.
7. SABRE: How long to the break?
WEST, grinning, SABRE grinning back.
8. WEST: On the bells, Captain.
9. SABRE: Joyous.
Back in the cabin, DRAKE and DRUM are looking at the MAP on the table, as SABRE makes her way back to them.
1. DRAKE: I see nothing on this map worth dying for—
2. SFX: ding-ding
3. SFX: ding-ding
DRAKE and DRUM looking up at the sound of the bell.
SABRE is moving to the TABLE briskly, preparing to brace herself and all that’s covering it.
4. SABRE: I’d grab ahold of something, boys.
5. TAILLESS/off: All hands—