SABRE has turned to speak to COFFEY, at the helm. COFFEY is spinning the wheel.
WEST is speaking to SABRE, anxious.
DRAKE is still here on the quarterdeck, trying to follow all the action. Concentrating. Frowning.
1. SABRE: Mister Coffey! Starboard six points!
2. COFFEY/off: Starboard six points, aye aye, ma’am!
3. WEST: We’ve no pressure in the boilers yet!
SABRE looking calmly at WEST.
WEST is – not unreasonably – nervous about this.
4. SABRE: My faith in Mister Bull is constant, West.
5. SABRE: Man the keel gun…
On SABRE, hands on the railing as she looks out past us. There’s a fire in her eye and a contained energy coursing through her. Battle is horrible and battle is violent and battle is dangerous, but the passion of it is unmistakable.
6. SABRE: …cannon at the ready….