ALIENS Vs.PREDATOR

HIROKO

We haven't used Big Bertha since we

relocated the generator module. That was

_four months ago_. I can't ask for them

to keep bringing spares in on the shuttle,

it's already costing too much as it is.

KAMEN shrugs.

KAMEN

If you want these things kept in working

condition, that's the only choice you've

got.

DILLER leans in to murmur quietly to GUTTIEREZ.

DILLER

Maybe she wouldn't be so tetchy if she

got laid every once-in-a-while.

GUTTIEREZ

You offering?

A buzzer inside the crawler goes OFF. DILLER gets up to answer.

DILLER

Nah. Freeze my dick off.

HIROKO shakes her head dubiously at KAMEN's comment.

HIROKO

I don't know. I think we'll have to run

it on a rota; one month down, one month

operational.

DILLER leans out of the crawler's cab and calls across.

DILLER

Miss Noguchi! You're wanted in admin.

HIROKO

Thanks.

She turns back to KAMEN.

HIROKO (CONT'D)

Let me sort this out and we'll go over

the logistics in my office.

INT. RYUSHI STATION - COMMAND CENTER

HIROKO peers at the display with undisguised concern. A sense of urgency

buzzes around the room.

HIROKO (CONT'D)

When?

CASSIE

Seven minutes ago, the third course change

in an hour. Those incomings are going to

skim past the communications platform just

a little too close for comfort.

HIROKO

Can we move it to a different orbit in

time?

PARSONS looks up from his board in harassment.

PARSONS

Already working on it.

HIROKO

Get off an all-bands emergency distress,

and put it on a repeater.

She meets KAMEN's eyes.

HIROKO (CONT'D)

Looks like you were right. Someone's

lobbed a pair of smart-missiles at us.

KAMEN shakes his head.

KAMEN

Relay station like us out in the middle

of the boonies; why bother? All you're

gonna do is punch a temporary hole in the

traffic control net. That'd be small

potatoes even for terrorists.

PARSONS and CASSIE are all-business at the control board.

PARSONS

Can you patch me a temporary loop on

DCMGS?

CASSIE

Okay, give me the numbers.

She flips a switch. A nearby screen changes to display an orbital path

sketched out in rectangular neon blocks.

EXT. SPACE

A cluster of thruster rockets on one corner of the relay frame ignites, and

the darkened bulk of the satellite begins to move.

EXT. DEEP SPACE

The two pods ROAR towards us at immense speed.

INT. RYUSHI STATION - COMMAND CENTER

The two blips on the holo-board representing the pods make a marked

alteration in their course.

PARSONS

They've changed their heading again.

HIROKO

Compensate!

PARSONS

Punch me in a solution for their delta-

vee.

CASSIE

What do you need?

PARSONS

A three-second burn to port, on my mark.

CASSIE

It's on the board.

EXT. SPACE

Framed against the green backdrop of Ryushi, the PREDATOR pods rocket towards

the communications platform.

CASSIE

Picking up velocity.

HIROKO

Match it!

A bead of sweat trickles down PARSONS' temple.

PARSONS

Not gonna make it...

EXT. DEEP SPACE

The pod speeds THUNDEROUSLY into CAMERA, blotting out our view.

INT. RYUSHI STATION - COMMAND CENTER

One of the two blips on the holo-display vanishes, and three-quarters of the

monitors abruptly turn to static. PARSONS curses.

PARSONS

Goddammit!

He pulls off his headset with weary resignation.

PARSONS (CONT'D)

We've lost the downlink. It's gone.

EXT. SPACE

The mass of the satellite tumbles end-over-end. A gaping rent is torn

through it; something sparks and flashes within. The second pod accelerates

off curving into the atmosphere.

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - RIVERBANK - DUSK

A SONIC THUNDERCRACK BOOMS overhead; YORK looks up in time to see an object

sear across the dusk sky. He pulls his bike to a stationary hover.

YORK

Shit! What's that?

ACKLAND has already dismounted as he watches the fireball hurtle to the

ground. A BOOMING ECHO resonates across the forest, followed by a few

plaintive SCREECHES from the planet's indigenous lifeforms, before settling

back into an eerie silence.

ACKLAND

Meteor, I guess.

He raises a set of compact field binoculars to his face. THROUGH THEM he

sees a thin haze of smoke rising from the treetops.

ACKLAND

D'you feel any impact shock?

YORK

(uncertain)

Not really.

He lowers the binoculars and frowns.

ACKLAND

Me either. I tell you, I used to be with

a mining outfit on Callisto, and when

something like that hits... believe me,

you know about it.

YORK

Do you wanna head back and call it in?

ACKLAND

(hesitant)

I dunno... I dunno. Something about this

feels funny.

He looks across at the plume of smoke snaking off into the sky.

ACKLAND (CONT'D)

That is the _damndest_ impact I've ever

saw...

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - IMPACT SIGHT - DUSK

The earth around the crater-rim is charred and cracked; some of the

surrounding brush still aflame. A SCORPION scuttles inquisitively to the

edge of the pit and stops, it's stinger twitching hesitantly. We HEAR a LOW

HUM, and the SOUND of METAL-ON-METAL. Before the SCORPION can decide what to

do, it's fate is sealed. A large METAL CLAW comes down, crushing it in an

instant. A SECOND CLAW emerges, and a MACHINE heaves itself out of the hole,

it's surface smoking with heat. It pauses for a BEAT like some giant

tarantula seeking prey, them moves purposely outwards about twenty yards

before halting. A hatch on the underside opens, and a complex delivery

mechanism extends. After a moment there's a LOW CLUNK, and the mechanism

retracts. In it's place is an ALIEN EGG. The MACHINE crawls off, vanishing

into the long reeds.

EXT. RYUSHI STATION - NIGHT

HIROKO sits on the front wheel of KAMEN's crawler, her knees pulled up to her

chin, staring off into a thin mist that makes the night impenetrable. Behind

and above, the lights of the cranes and the communications array strobe on-

and-off. Above the bar on the main street is a flicking neon sign erected

after-the-fact, emblazoned with the words "TORCHY'S". The MUFFLED SOUNDS of

MERRY-MAKING from within become momentarily louder, and HIROKO glances over

to see it's pressure-door CRASH back, disgorging several drunken people.

KAMEN follows them through. He spots HIROKO and heads over.

KAMEN

Hey, boss. Wondered where you'd gotten

to.

HIROKO

I just...wanted to be put on my own for a

while. Clear my head.

KAMEN

Didn't feel like whoopin' it up with the

rest of us blue collars, huh?

She shakes her head, and manages a smile.

HIROKO

I've got a lot of thinking to do. 'Sides,

the room was getting too crowded for me.

KAMEN

Not too much of the socializing type, then?

HIROKO

No, not really. More sort of the

'claustrophobic' type.

KAMEN LAUGHS. HIROKO is straight-faced.

HIROKO (CONT'D)

I'm serious. That's why I switched from

orbiting to planetary installations.

KAMEN

Is that a fact.

HIROKO

Uh-huh. Used to get it pretty bad. I'd

wake up in a cold sweat and want to claw

open a vacuum hatch.

KAMEN

How long you been out here for now,

anyway? Three months?

HIROKO

Four.

KAMEN

And before that?

HIROKO

Six month stint on Datus.

KAMEN

Only six?

HIROKO

What is this? 'Twenty Questions'?

KAMEN

Just curious. There's a lot of talk

goes around.

HIROKO shrugs. Thinks about it.

HIROKO

I don't know. I guess I've just never

found anywhere I really felt at home.

She hugs her knees again, and suddenly looks a whole lot more at ease. KAMEN

spots a square glass balanced on one of the tire's wide treads.

KAMEN

What is that?

HIROKO

Real man' drink.

She offers the glass to him. He takes it and sniff cautiously.

KAMEN

Seltzer?

HIROKO

Want some?

KAMEN hands the glass back and raises his own bottle.

KAMEN

I'll stick with my own.

He sits with her and stares into the darkness.

HIROKO

Any luck raising Ackland's party?

KAMEN

Nothing. With the satellite down, we

can't transmit over the mountain range.

He's most likely sitting there wondering

why he can't raise _us_.

HIROKO

First light, we'll take a chopper out there

and tell them to head back.

KAMEN

'We'? You wanna fly out there with me?

HIROKO

Sure. Do me good to stretch my legs.

HIROKO takes a sip of her drink, her brow furrowing.

HIROKO (CONT'D)

This whole thing's got me spooked.

KAMEN hops off the wheel.

KAMEN

Don't worry about it. If the Network goes

by the book, like everyone figures they

will, a Marine gunboat from Powell'll

drop-by for a look-see in four-or-five

days. They can go poke around out there

and find whatever it was hit us. All we've

gotta do is sit tight.

HIROKO

Do you think _Ackland'll_ sit tight?

KAMEN

There'd have to be a helluva good reason

for him not to.

EXT. SPACE

A peculiar blue scanning beam plays over the rotating mass of the

incapacitated satellite, examining every section. it comes to the rent torn

through it, and pauses.

FROM THE SCANNER'S P.O.V., we see the structure of the satellite made up from

a series of blue geodesic shapes. The damage registers as a cold, black

mass.

The beam switches off and the hovering PREDATOR shuttle turns smoothly on

it's axis, thrusting towards the planet.

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - IMPACT SITE - NIGHT

Shafts of torch-light fan out above the thick foliage in the darkness. YORK

and ACKLAND wade through the chin-high reeds, cursing.

ACKLAND

Found anything?

YORK looks down at his data-stick, a handheld torch with a multi-purpose

readout screen.

YORK

Nada. No radiation...no movement...

nothing.

ACKLAND

Well, just keep looking. It's gotta be...

whoa, Jesus!

ACKLAND falls toward onto something, and YORK comes running.

YORK

What is it?

ACKLAND steadies himself, and the two men shine their torches at the

rhythmically-breathing SHAPE on the ground.

ACKLAND

It's a rhino.

YORK

Is it dead?

ACKLAND

No, it's still breathing. Kinda clammy

though. Are you sure your stick's not

broken.

YORK looks at the data-stick again.

YORK

Yeah, it's fine.

ACKLAND

God, I hope that thing didn't bring down

a virus.

YORK

I told you we...what's that?

Their torch beams PAN ACROSS a three-foot high ovular shape.

ACKLAND

Looks like a spore. Fungus of some kind,

maybe?

YORK

Bloody big if it is. Top's open.

ACKLAND steps cautiously forward to shine his torch inside.

YORK (CONT'D)

Careful...

There's nothing inside. ACKLAND looks disappointed.

ACKLAND

It's hollow. Think our rhino must've ate

something that didn't agree with him.

A heavy gust of air blows unexpectedly across the clearing with a BANSHEE

HOWL, ruffling their hair.

YORK

Let's get back and call this in.

ACKLAND

Wait a minute.

YORK reluctantly follows ACKLAND as he thrashes through the thinning foliage,

coming out at the rim of the impact crater. It's beginning to partially

collapse, water seeping in. YORK runs his beam over something at the bottom

of the shallow pit.

YORK

What is that...is that metal fragments?

ACKLAND's maybe getting a little nervous now.

ACKLAND

This is very fucking weird.

He sees the churned earth, and the muddy trail leading off into the broken

foliage.

ACKLAND (CONT'D)

It's like something came out of the

crater and went that way...

There's a TINY CLICK, and ACKLAND looks over to see YORK taking the safety

off his rifle. ACKLAND wordlessly unshoulders his too. They step around the

crater and warily follow the ragged path to...

YORK

Another one?

ACKLAND prods this SECOND EGG with his gun.

ACKLAND

Yeah. This's closed.

There's a CRACKLING NOISE, and the top of the EGG peels neatly open in four

sections. The two men jump back in alarm, and YORK LAUGHS nervously.

Something organic is pulsing inside. ACKLAND cranes his neck forward for a

better look...

There's an EXPLOSION of MOVEMENT. A spindly shape with a long segmented tail

launches itself jack-in-a-box-style at ACKLAND. It's a FACEHUGGER. ACKLAND

trips backwards, caught off-balance. His finger involuntarily squeezes the

trigger of his rifle as he falls. A volley of shots describe and arc and

light up the night with a PERCUSSIVE BOOM, and we...

CUT TO

...A SHORT DISTANCE ACROSS THE CLEARING. SOMETHING is watching them from the

trees; something with a heat-vision P.O.V. A PREDATOR. We see the flare of

ACKLAND's gunshots, then SNAP IN to see the multi-colored from of his body

toppling over, trailing a purplish FACEHUGGER, before we...

CUT BACK TO

...One of ACKLAND's bullets taking a meaty chunk out of YORK's thigh as he

races forward to help his friend. The HUGGER's tail is already around

ACKLAND's throat, it's fingers scrabbling for purchase. YORK pulls at one

set of digits, and manages to raise them for just an instant. What we see is

horrific; the look of terror on ACKLAND's face, and the questing tendril on

the HUGGER's underside trying to force it's way between ACKLAND's lips. In

a second, it's all over; the FACEHUGGER struggles free of YORK's grasp, and

clamps itself firmly on ACKLAND's face with a faint SUCKING SOUND. YORK

shivers, then uses his good leg to propel himself a few feet away. He

watches the hapless Teamster go rigid, then stop moving altogether.

YORK

Oh, God; oh, shit; oh, God.

The FACEHUGGER's tail slithers tighter around ACKLAND's neck; and as YORK

quickly retrieves his rifle, we...

CUT TO

A PREDATOR-VISION SHOT, watching the color-bloom of YORK dragging ACKLAND's

body away from the crater. It CLOSES IN on the FACEHUGGER, giving us a muted

X-ray-type VIEW of circulatory fluid pumping around the HUGGER and into

ACKLAND.

YORK's limping badly, a dark stain blossoming on his baggy fatigue trousers.

ACKLAND's not a small man, and the physical effort of hauling him through the

reeds makes him sweat profusely. There's movement on the ground, and YORK

sees why; one of the LEMURS has fallen victim to another FACEHUGGER, which

dwarfs it's small furry body. The HUGGER's fingers all ripple simultaneously

as it strengthens it's hold; the movement akin to somebody drumming their

fingers on a table-top.

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - RIVER BANK - NIGHT

As YORK hauls ACKLAND onto one of the bikes, he hears a TICKING SOUND from

the trees, like an engine cooling on a warm summer's day. YORK clutches his

rifle and stares upward. There seems to be a VAGUE SHIMMERING FORM in the

bough of a tree. Although it might be a trick of the light, he isn't

sticking around to find out. YORK guns the bike to life and ROARS off above

the swamp.

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - IMPACT SITE - NIGHT

PREDATOR-VISION. We're looking at the site in colours: the cold blue of

empty ALIEN EGGS, and the warm reds of just-breathing ANIMALS rendered inert

the FACEHUGGER parasites.

A group of PREDATORS appear in three-dimensional solidity, their camouflage

cloaks deactivated. The LEAD PREDATOR SPLASHES across to the exposed roots

of a tree and kneels down to examine an ANIMAL CORPSE curled up there. Most

of it has been madly mutilated by something erupting from _inside_ it's body.

The PREDATOR looks up and scans the swamp, ignoring the swarm of FLIES

buzzing in the air.

PREDATOR-VISION. This time, an oscillating line appears to the left of our

view, and a band sweeps quickly ACROSS the screen synchronous to us hearing

different levels of SOUND STATIC. This abruptly stops as the oscillating line

begins to moves in peaks and valleys. The PREDATOR is picking up radio

waves. A HUMAN VOICE; albeit grossly-distorted.

EXT. LINSON'S RANGE - ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT

We hear a RAPID BEEPING; movement-sensors set up on tripods to warn against

intruding animals. The sound brings BEAUVAIS out of her tent, bleary-eyed

and fumbling with her pistol. She's suddenly wide awake when she sees YORK's

hover-bike, lit by the sensors' flashing red strobe. It skids to a halt

against a mud-bank, sending up a spray of silt. YORK climbs off the bike and

stumbles, then starts to unfasten the straps holding ACKLAND's body.

BEAUVAIS

Jesus Christ! What happened?

YORK

Give me a hand with Ack.

She races over to help YORK ease ACKLAND up.

BEAUVAIS

How bad is...oh my God.

As ACKLAND is turned over, BEAUVIAS gets her first look at a FACEHUGGER.

She shies away, repulsed.

BEAUVAIS

What _is_ that?

YORK

Don't...uuh...don't know. Help me...

uuh...help me get him inside. Shit!

YORK grits his teeth, but the leg injury is too painful. He slumps slowly to

the floor.

BEAUVAIS

(yelling)

Minh! Minh, get out here!

INT. TENT - NIGHT

A portable neon light in the tent flickers, casting staccato bluish light

over ACKLAND and the FACEHUGGER. MINH and BEAUVAIS stare at it in horrified

fascination, while YORK pulls a tourniquet around his thigh. He winces.

BEAUVAIS

Have you tried prising it off?

YORK shakes his head.

YORK

I wanted to get him back here; get him

back to base.

MINH