Screen 1

SABRE is on her feet and facing DRAKE. DRAKE is as calm and complacent as ever.

SABRE is – not unreasonably – insulted.

1. SABRE: It’s fortunate for you that I’m a woman, then.
2. SABRE: You play dangerous cards, Miles Drake. Even in Tanitin, a
challenge to one’s honor must be answered.

3. DRAKE: Answer it, then.

DRAKE has moved a step closer, so they’re all but face-to-face. He’s not going to back down.

SABRE has turned coldly furious.

4. DRAKE: You’re sailing to Makers knows where, with a map which –
5. DRAKE: – if it does as you say –
6. DRAKE: – foretells the fates of nations

7. DRAKE: …I’ll damn well question both your honor and your intention.

Screen 2
Face-to-face now, even closer.

1. SABRE: You’re very provincial, you know that?

New angle, SABRE has turned away, leaving DRAKE frustrated and somewhat surprised. He was really hoping he’d get an answer or two.

2. SABRE: It’s almost charming.

3. DRAKE: Dammit, woman—

DRAKE has reached out for SABRE’S arm. She’s turning back to him, surprised.

4. DRAKE: —I’ll know your intentions!

5. SABRE: You’ll take your hand from me is what you’ll do, Marshal…


Dangerous light flickering in her eyes, despite the easy smile.

6. SABRE: …or you’ll need one less holster on your hip.