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ALIEN 5 OPENING SEQUENCE?SPACE A backdrop of stars, traces of colorful galaxies. INTO FRAME AS WE MOVE BACK: A BEACON. Old, scarred. One side crumpled from an explosion. Weyland-Yutani emblon visible. The beacon's navigation light blinks erratically. BACK FURTHER revealing an astronaut with a HANDHELD JETPACK nearing the beacon. A TETHER snakes out behind the figure. CONTINUING BACK shows the tether attached to a SPACESHIP built like a giant Swiss army knife -- a repair ship. On one side of the ship: B42-GOV/WY-FRONTIER 'BERTHA'. Inside the open cargo bay sits a NEW BEACON, this one a sleeker model than the one outside. Its nav light strobes eagerly. INT. BERTHA CONRAD, mid-20s, wearing Weyland-Yutani overalls, floats weightless and inverted at the cabin ceiling. He retrieves a thick manual from a compartment then kicks off toward the main viewscreen, where TIBBS, fat and in his 50s, is buckled into a pilot chair. Tibbs sucks purple mush through the straw of a food container. His straining t-shirt reads: W- Y LITTLE LEAGUE - GO COLTS GO! Conrad slips a headset on. They watch the astronaut on the screen. THE BEACON DEBBIE, 20-ish and sassy, fires the jetpack to align herself with the beacon. She grabs a hand hold, climbs over to a control box, and attaches a tether from her suit harness to part of the beacon. DEBBIE That's it, we're hitched. CONRAD (V.O.) Can I kiss the bride? DEBBIE No, but you can kiss my ass. INT. BERTHA CONRAD It's a deal. Listen, that damaged panel looks unstable. Skip the external and go straight for diagnostics, okay? DEBBIE (V.O.) You're the boss, Conrad. TIBBS (to Debbie; mouth full) Ah, technically I'm the boss. I've got twenty years with the company; Conrad's got six months and an uncle in personnel. THE BEACON Debbie uses a small tool to pop open the panel. Buttons, a screen, and two large switch-breakers inside. She thumbs the two switches. Buttons light up. The screen flutters to life with: AUXILLARY POWER ON / MAX 50 MINUTES FULL LOAD / COMMAND? The screen glitches intermittently. DEBBIE The pile is down. Backup power seems okay, though. CONRAD (V.O.) Patch in a filter just in case. She takes a small electronic unit from her utility belt. In her other hand she uses a gun-shaped tool to squirt some sticky goop on the back on the unit, which she jams onto the rim of the control panel. She hooks it up between the main tether and the control panel. DEBBIE All set. You should have a clean feed now. The screen flashes through some menus, then fills with a stream of data. INT. BERTHA Still eating, Tibbs watches a nearby monitor blur with data. TIBBS That's affirmative. Tibbs and Conrad work the ship computers. DEBBIE (V.O.) What's the verdict? Do we salvage? CONRAD (scanning readouts) This one's pretty much brain dead. DEBBIE (V.O.) Don't go all technical on me. TIBBS The analysis shows multiple fractures in the substructure. Too risky to bring it onboard for a stripdown so we'll just go with standard procedure and deep-six it. THE BEACON - INTERCUT DEBBIE So was that a yes or a no? CONRAD Ah, Debbie, I believe that was a negative. DEBBIE Okey-dokey. So how do we blow it? CONRAD See that big red button labeled "self-destruct"? DEBBIE (looking hard) I don't see it. TIBBS That's because there isn't one. Young lady, you really should have paid attention during basic training. We prime the reactor for detonation from here. Standby. Conrad, give me the core activation string. Conrad consults the manual. On the cover: WEYLAND YUTANI / FRONTIER DIV. / ADVANCED WARNING SYSTEMS / CLASSIFIED B2. CONRAD (from manual) Delta Charlie dash one seven zero. TIBBS (typing) D-C-one-seven-zero. Confirmed. The beacon's control screen now reads: EVENT DELAY (MINUTES)? DEBBIE It's showing some kind of timer. CONRAD (bouncing it off Tibbs) Ten minutes to get her back and unsuited, ten minutes to move to a safe distance. Say fifteen minutes contingency. Thirty-five? TIBBS Thirty-five minutes is ample. (he types) CONRAD Return to deploy the new beacon, then dinner and a quick game of scrabble -- we'll be in hyper-sleep and headed for home within a couple hours. Outstanding. Debbie watches the screen shuffle through menus. A countdown appears: 35 MINUTES TO POWER CORE IGNITION. DEBBIE Warm up my slippers. I'm on my way. INT. BERTHA An alarm sounds. The two men jump to the controls. CONRAD Proximity alert. Picking up a huge neutrino echo. Somebody's dropping out of L-space right on top of us. TIBBS Nobody should be out this far ... CONRAD There's a shitload of matter influx. Too much for just one ship. Looks more like a fucking planet! TIBBS Debbie! You copy that? We've got L-space activity! Hold on! SPACE A portal opens, squeezing into normal space. A wall of light. Blinding. Debbie cringes in the beacon's shadow. Conrad and Tibbs shield their eyes. Then ... all light gets sucked back to its pinhole origin. Where there was nothing is now a vast fleet of alien spacecraft. Twenty in all. Several makes and sizes, but all follow the same basic design. We've seen their type before... on LV-421 -- the derelict spacecraft with its crop of deadly facehuggers. A red-blue energy wave ripples outward from the fleet. The shockwave is brutal but losing energy fast as it dissipates. INT. BERTHA The main viewscreen splits into windows showing the beacon, the energy wave, and a rapid visual scan of the alien fleet. In that window the computer reports: SCAN COMPLETE / IDENTIFICATION FAILED ON MULTIPLE UNKNOWN OBJECTS, STRUCTURE AND COMPOSITION UNKNOWN / LIFEFORMS DETECTED, SPECIES UNKNOWN. CONRAD Fuckers didn't even knock first. TIBBS Oh Christ. Here comes the Phase shift aftershock. CONRAD Debbie! Use the beacon as your shield. Get behind the beacon! THE BEACON Debbie sees the approaching shockwave and clambers sideways to get behind the beacon. INT. BERTHA The blastwave hits them. It buffets the ship for a few seconds. Sends objects cascading through the weightless cabin. Scrambles all electronics. Systems fail. No power. THE BEACON Debbie hugs the beacon as it goes tumbling. It reaches the end of the tether and jerks tight, nearly throwing Debbie off. The momentum sends Bertha and the beacon spinning around each other in dizzying circles. Debbie regains her hold. Stars whirl past. She looks at the control screen. Dead. All lights off. DEBBIE Bertha, Bertha, you copy? The beacon just lost backup! INT. BERTHA Tibbs and Conrad recover from the impact, scan the computers. CONRAD The blastwave fritzed our power too. TIBBS Whoever that is out there, it's not us. And they're headed this way. CONRAD Debbie, get back in here now! Tibbs rips off panels and franticly examines wiring and componentry. Conrad watches Debbie's image on screen. THE BEACON Debbie can't detach the tether. The blastwave has twisted the catch, snagging it in the hook. She yanks at it but it won't budge. DEBBIE Damn this mainline, Conrad, it's stuck! CONRAD (V.O.) C'mon, Deb, detach and get your ass in here on the double. She pauses as the beacon suddenly stutters back to life. The nav light flickers on, the control panel lights up, and the screen returns with the countdown timer. But there's a difference that freezes Debbie's blood in her veins: the timer reads: 4 MIN 50 SEC TO REACTOR IGNITION (NO RECOURSE). INT. BERTHA DEBBIE (O.S.) Oh shit. The power's back but now the timer is down to four minutes! TIBBS What? Four minutes to detonation? CONRAD No power, we're tied to a bomb, and we're surrounded by aliens. This was not in my fucking contract! TIBBS (working frantically) Check the fineprint. THE BEACON Debbie stabs at keys on the beacon's control panel. She gives up and pounds it with her fist in frustration. DEBBIE Cancel the self-destruct order! Tibbs, transmit the code now! INT. BERTHA TIBBS Negative. It's too late for that. There's no failsafe under five minutes. No recourse. We can't stop it. CONRAD (thinking fast) Listen to me, Debbie. Cut the mainline. Use your suit laser. THE BEACON Debbie presses a switch on her glove. A pencil-sized laser extends over her index finger. She points it at the tether linking her and the beacon, activates it with her thumb. A narrow beam starts biting into the thick cable. The beam cuts out, flickers, cuts out again, returns. DEBBIE Goddammit! INT. BERTHA The Bertha's power returns. All systems back online. Tibbs whoops and leaps into the pilot's chair. He begins programming the nav computer. CONRAD Deb, the ship's back online. We need to put some space between us and that fucking beacon! TIBBS How much time? DEBBIE (O.S.) Three minutes. Repeat, three minutes. Tibbs powers up the engines. EXT. BERTHA The ship stabilises, no longer spinning, and begins accelerating smoothly away. THE BEACON Debbie clings on as the beacon whips around and gets towed behind Bertha. DEBBIE Hey, what the...? INT. BERTHA CONRAD Tibbs! What are you doing? TIBBS I'm getting us the hell away from that alien fleet. It's no coincidence they appear where a recon beacon is out of action. They probably disabled it in advance. CONRAD We don't know that. They could be friendly! TIBBS Sure, maybe they're just out here for a picnic. Tibbs stares Conrad down, then secretly hits a console button. EXT. BERTHA The cargo bay doors begin to close. CLOSE ON DOORS as they scissor shut, severing the tether line. Internal wiring sparks. The beacon is left stranded as the ship accelerates away. THE BEACON Debbie watches the ship leaving. She takes a deep breath before turning back to the job at hand. One minute thirty left on the timer. DEBBIE (shaky) Well, guys, the bad news is I won't be joining you for dinner... INT. BERTHA - INTERCUT CONRAD Shit! SHIT! Tibbs, we lost Debbie! Turn the ship back! TIBBS Damn you, there's no time! We'll all die. I'm sorry, Debbie. CONRAD Fuck sorry -- turn back now! DEBBIE No! Conrad, it's okay. You guys can make it. Thanks to me, I might add. As usual a woman saves the day. CONRAD (helpless) You're one in a million, Debbie. DEBBIE (works the faulty laser) Damn straight. I'm smart as well as good-looking. And let's not forget my wonderful fucking personality. CONRAD I won't forget. TIBBS I'm taking the ship to L-space. We'll have entry speed in one minute. DEBBIE I agree with Tibbs -- this is some kind of invasion... The laser has cut most of the way through the tether joining Debbie to the beacon. She switches off the laser, grabs her jetpack and the glue gun, and squirts a couple of big dollops of the sticky resin on the front of the jetpack. Then she sticks the jetpack to the beacon. Resumes cutting the tether. The timer dips below one minute. DEBBIE You're kind of sweet on me, aren't you, Conrad. CONRAD (choking up) I ... yeah, I guess so. DEBBIE Too bad, sweetheart, because I also happen to be fantastic in bed. CONRAD (smiling sadly) I was counting on it. The tether between Debbie and the beacon severs. She slaps a switch on the jetpack -- the rockets fire full on, blasting her in a backward somersault as the beacon launches away from her, toward the alien fleet. DEBBIE Yeee-hah! Go baby go! Go tell em not to fuck with me! INT. BERTHA Tibbs is preoccupied with getting the ship into L-space. Conrad is numb. He watches Debbie's plight on the viewscreen. CONRAD Hey! She cut herself free! And she did something to the beacon. It's headed for the fleet. TIBBS Shit. We just fired the first shot. If they were friendly they won't be now. CONRAD Wait. The beacon... DEBBIE Tumbles slowly through space. At least she's alive. She tries to keep watching the beacon as it diminishes... then grows larger -- the beacon is COMING BACK in her direction! The jetpack has put it in a loop! DEBBIE (wearily) Yeah, whatever ... THE BEACON Five seconds left on the counter. It's going to pass within 100 metres of Debbie ... THE ALIEN FLEET Like a searchlight, a continuous beam shoots from one of the big ships. THE BEACON The beam surrounds the beacon in a cocoon of energy. The timer reaches zero. Debbie watches in awe. The powerful explosion is contained within. The beam ceases. THE ALIEN FLEET A second beam shoots out from the same alien craft. DEBBIE Is caught by the beam, all motion arrested. The beam begins to pull her toward the big alien craft. CONRAD (V.O.) Debbie? Debbie? DEBBIE I'm alive. I'm being pulled back to their ship. Guess they want to meet me. (fear in her voice now) Can't blame em, I'm such a fine specimen of womanhood ... INT. BERTHA Conrad and Tibbs are strapped into the pilot chairs. They exchange a horrified look: what will the aliens do with her? THE ALIEN FLEET A smaller vessel fires its weapons. DEBBIE Watches the missiles streak past her. DEBBIE Conrad! INT. BERTHA TIBBS Almost ready... An alarm SHRIEKS. CLOSE ON A MONITOR which reads: THREAT ALERT! EMERGENCY MEMORY DUMP -- UPLOADING TO NETWORK ... CONRAD Incoming fire! Punch it now! TIBBS L-drive online-- EXT. BERTHA Too late. The missiles obliterate the Bertha. DEBBIE Is almost at the alien vessel. She witnesses the distant explosion, then disappears through an access port underneath the ship.
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