At Franz’s mention of a coming storm, Sybil’s glare tightened, her mind racing. At Perla’s odd choice of words, the fishwoman scratched her head, mumbling, “Speak sense.”
Before much else could happen, William J. Archer took control of the situation with a bow. Sybil crossed her arms and replied, “Only if said exploration is done within the Port of Hawara. All other parts of the island are forbidden to foreigners, even Marines. Well, except one, but I don’t know what his deal is.” She began to walk away, her fishwoman ally not paying attention. “Meryl?” Sybil asked, returning the fishwoman’s mind to the planet, who shook her head and followed after Sybil.
“There’s a neat plaza up ahead with a bunch of merchants and stuff, ideal fer pirates keeping out of trouble,” Meryl said, a bit of humor in her voice. Sybil looked at her and blinked, asking, “Isn’t that...?” After a moment of silence, the two began snickering together, like two schoolgirl friends, before shuffling off.