FADE IN:

EXT. SPACE

Black, cold, empty. Stars twinkle.

The stars blacken...

EXT. BATTLECRUISER – SPACE

Looking like a cross between a bayonete and an aircraft carrier, the massive

spaceship slowly slices through space. It is all darkened, all rusted and

quiet. It has been there for many years. THE CAMERA TRACKS over the armoured

exterior of the gigantic warship. The Turbines, big as a building, are off.

There are no lights on the cockpit. The great vessel just floats, like a

ghost ship.

EXT. SPACE

The battlecruiser floats.

Blackness, and pinpoints of light.

EXT. RESCUE SHIP – SPACE

First the stars...

Then the tiny recognizance ship cuts through the void. It bears the white

star insignia of the U.S. Military on the side.

The tiny Rescue Ship, it’s rear jets pulsing, heads towards the great ark of a

Warship sitting black and dead against the stars.

EXT. SULACO WARSHIP

Steering beneath the football field sized guns and engines, the small

spacecraft navigates through the miles of space scarred armour on the

underbelly of the ghost ship, heading for the loading bays.

INT. LOCKERS – RESCUE SHIP

THE PRESSURIZED HISS of a space helmet being sealed. THE HOLLOW SOND OF

BREATHING THROUGH A FACE MASK.

SAM SMITH adjusts the oxygen tank on his spacesuit. His face hovers in the

facemask. A clean-cut, athletic looking man of 25, Sam is a Captain in the

Special Forces, and he eyes his men as he switches on a camera mounted on his

shoulder plate with his gloves. His eyes move over his men...

FIVE GREEN BERETS. Five helmets. Five spacesuits resembling Samurai body

armour. The men strap their boots. They seal their helmets. Turn on their

oxygen. TIGHT CLOSE UPS of the mechanical, highly technical procedures. They

have nametags on the suits. Simpson. Avery. Anderson. Wilson. Cassidy.

The faces are framed in the visors. The HOLLOW RESPIRATION fills the room.

Sam switches on a tape recorder on his chest plate that is attached to the

camera on his shoulder. They grab up flashlights.

Spaz .12 automatic shotguns with rocket launchers hang on the wall. Sam looks

at the rifles on the wall as Simpson makes a grab for one. He shakes his

head.

SAM

It’s just a recovery.

Through the windshield of the ship, reflected in the domes of their helmet

visors. . .The huge, bayonette battleship shape of the Sulaco Warship looms

against the stars.

The ship is forebodingly quiet.

EXT. SULACO WARSHIP/RESCUE SHIP

The two ships dock, locking together.

INT. LANDING PAD/LOADING BAY – SULACO WARSHIP

The hatch pulls open with a HISSSS of hydraulics. Since all the battleships

lights are off, the warehouse sized storage area for shuttle craft is totally

dark.

Six flashlight beams. Six boots CLANK ECHOINGLY on the corrugated steel

floor. Sam Smith holds his torch, his eyes behind his space helmet sharply

surveying the darkened interior of the ship. The flashlight beams hit the

looming mechanoid shape of the shuttlecraft, casting it in shadowy relief.

The five Soldiers are framed behind dim, vaguely seen machinery on the side of

the ship.

Simpson’s boot skids on something wet. He falls flat on his back, his

flashlight flying from his grip. The flashlight rolls across the floor. The

men jump, shining their flashlights on Simpson. The floor is slick with a

moist white substance.

SAM

You alright, Simpson?

SIMPSON

I slipped on...Jesus...

He sees the white liquid.

AVERY

Captain...

They all look where the soldier points. The flashlight has stopped rolling

and shines on the severed trunk of a man lying in a splashed splatter of muck.

They all stare. Sam moves over to it as Simpson gets to his feet.

SAM

It’s part of an android.

SIMPSON

Sir, shouldn’t we go back

and get armed?

SAM

What for?

Following Sam, the five Soldiers move out. Six flashlights in the gloom.

Light glints off the bolted metal plates of the walls of the ship. They reach

the airlock door to the hypersleep chamber. Sam presses the button. It

slides open.

They go in.

INT. HYPERSLEEP CHAMBER – SULACO WARSHIP

Black as pitch. Shapes coming out of the darkness are revealed to be oxygen

units. They pass the shoulder high banks of computers. Flashlight glint off

the gauges and switches and electronic panels on the walls.

Something drips.

Flashlights beam off the overhead gridwork of beams and life support

equipment.

SAM

There’s the freezers.

He shines his torch on them.

SAM

Oh my God.

The freezers have been smashed open.

Alien Eggs, three feet high and slimy with muck, rest in the hypersleep

chambers where the bodies of the people where. Cocoon substance, like iron

cobweb strings from floor to ceiling. Bones and shreds of uniforms, are

quickly glimpsed on the floor in the flashlight beams. Sam picks up a shorn

off nametag with the word “Ripley” on it.

SAM

What the fuck...?

They hear a sound overhead. They look up.

The Alien, all armoured, insectile fifteen feet of it, swings down from the

rafters onto them. It’s the first set of metallic teeth opening, its

jackhammer second set of jaws trailing blood saliva and punching into their

skulls.

SMASH CUT TO

EXT. NORTH STAR – DAY

A small American town in the middle of the farmlands. A sign on the road

reads, “North Star. Pop. 251”. Somebody has spraypainted “Shitsville” across

it.

THE CREDITS APPEAR over postcard shots of the dusty, average midwestern town.

Farmhouses. Silos. Windmills. A Drive-in. Fields of Wheat. Fields of

Corn. An A&P. A School. A Grocery Store. A 7-11.

EXT. SMITH HOUSE – NORTH STAR – DAY

A lone Farmhouse. A tall windmill slowly turns beside it. A Bunch of cows in

a pen.

In f.g., a rooster crows.

INT. SAMS ROOM – SMITH HOUSE – DAY

Bright sunlight shines through the curtains.

Sam Smith opens his eyes. He raises his hand to rub them. The skin is

rubbery white. He opens and closes his right hand, lifting his arm. There

isn’t any “skin” on the joint by his shoulder, and hydraulic and pneumatic

tubing on a mechanoid skeleton is seen beneath.

His eyes widen.

He rips the sheets off and he stares. Sam’s right arm and shoulder have been

synthetically reconstructed. The skin hasn’t been given the flesh tone dye,

so it is like pale rubber. His chest and stomach are heavily stitched,

scarred, and bandaged.

EXT. SMITH HOUSE – DAY

The farmhouse.

Sams SCREAMS float across the farmlands.

INT. SAMS ROOM – SMITH HOUSE – DAY

Sam sits up in bed, shivering in shock.

GENERAL JOHN SMITH rushes to the door. He is a career military officer in his

mid fifties, and he watches in son in alarm and relief. He hurries to the bed

and puts his arm around his boy. MARY SMITH, Sam’s mother, runs to the door,

nearly bursting into tears when she sees her son awake. She comes over to him

and hugs him too.

SAM

Dad, Mom, wha...?

At the door, his teenage sister KAREN SMITH, and his little brother MARK,

watch apprehensively. Sam sees them. The family remains there in the bright,

dusty farmland sunlight blasting through the window curtains.

INT. KITCHEN – SMITH HOUSE – DAY

The family sits at the table. Sam Smith, his semi-artificial self, pours

himself some Corn Flakes. John Smith sits across from him, eyeing him

closely. Mary Smith watches her son, and her husband carefully. Karen Smith

sort of eyes her brother in sick fascination. The little boy Mark is totally

into the new android his bro has. Sam looks at his dad.

SAM

How long have I been...?

JOHN

Two weeks.

SAM

Two weeks? I can’t believe this.

Look at me. I’m all rebuilt.

Where’s my arm?

JOHN

Sam, I’m...I’m sorry. But...

You’re lucky to be alive.

SAM

What happened?

JOHN

What do you remember?

He scratches the back of his ear. There is a small stitched incision, an inch

wide, in the rear of his skull. Sam feels it and twitches.

SAM

Not much.

JOHN

That fire spread quick.

SAM

Fire?

SLOW ZOOM in on John. This is difficult for him. His wife watches him hard.

JOHN

There was some kind of equipment

Malfunction in your ships electrical

System. We’re not sure exactly what.

They never knew what hit them.

SAM

What are you talking about?

JOHN

The rest are dead.

Sam stares into space, shellshocked.

SAM

Simpson. Avery...My mom...

JOHN

I’m sorry son.

JOHN

Do you hurt?

SAM

No, not really. I feel kind of alright.

JOHN

I’m not actually surprised.

They used the latest android

Synthetic technology on you.

They say you can’t feel the

difference. When they finish up

You really won’t see the difference.

KAREN

Yeah, Sam. It amazing. Your

Arm and leg, they look like real.

SAM

Why me? How did I make it?

JOHN

There happened to be another ship in

The area. It got there in time.

They found enough of you to put back

Together. The rest we...we had to

reconstruct.

SAM

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy.

MARY

Oh Sam we’re so happy to see

You up and around. Are you alright?

We didn’t know...

She starts to cry, then stops, dabbing her eye. Sam grips her hand and

smiles.

KAREN

You were out for the longest time.

We used to sit up nights and watch

You, waiting for you to wake up.

Mark is looking at Sam’s mechanical hand. Sam flexes the white rubber

fingers.

MARK

That doesn’t hurt?

SAM

No, it doesn’t feel like anything.

But I can crush your face because I’m

robot man.

Cracking a grin, Sam closes his hand around Marks face. The little boy

screams and jumps back. Sam smiles at him and ruffles his hair. He raises

his eyebrows and looks at his dad.

SAM

So now what?

JOHN

There’s been a few changes

Around here while you were out.

When you’re feeling up to it,

We can take a drive downstairs

And I can bring you up to date.

John (Contd)

We need to get the rest of your

skin put on. Also, some of the brass

wants to talk to you.

SAM

About what? I don’t remember anything.

JOHN

Standard operational bullshit.

Basic debriefing.

SAM

Sure. Fine. Maybe it’ll come back

to me.

A flash of anxiety across the faces of his mom and dad. Sam registers it.

JOHN

Don’t push yourself too hard, son.

You’ve been through a lot.

SAM

Sure.

EXT. SMITH HOUSE – DAY

The sun burns hot. It doesn’t look real. Sam and John Smith leave the house.

Sam is getting the feel of walking again. His dad helps him to the pickup

truck parked by the mailbox near the road. They climb in.

INT. PICKUP TRUCK – DAY

John sticks the key in the ignition. He turns it over. Sam sits beside him,

staring out of the window at the rolling farmlands of North Star.

They drive.

EXT. NORTH STAR – DAY

The little pickup truck tools along the main road towards town. Here and

there are scattered small farmhouses and silos. A tractor sits in the middle

of an open field. The horizon is flat.

INT. PICKUP – DAY

Sam rides along with his father.

SAM

Same old town.

JOHN

Same old town.

SAM

Looks quiet.

The young soldier looks out the window, as the dusty breeze whips his face.

A farmhouse and silo under construction. Construction has stopped.

Farmlands...Then, another farmhouse. Boarded up.

SAM

The Simpson place.

JOHN

The family left.

SAM

Where?

JOHN

Home.

SAM

Home. I remember there.

They drive on.

EXT. NORTH STAR – DAY

The pickup tools down the dirt road into town. The farmlands roll. The sky

looks different.

INT. PICKUP – DAY

A flash of pain shoots across John’s face.

JOHN

I-I’m sorry, Sam

SAM

Don’t worry about it

Didn’t have anything to do

with you, Dad.

John snaps out of it. He looks at Sam and ruffles his hair.

JOHN

They’ve been asking about you

in town.

Sam peers out the window. He waves at some girls.

EXT. MAIN STREET – NORTH STAR – DAY

A street just like a thousand in middle America. A grocery store. A church.

A Woolworths. An A&P. A McDonalds.

THREE GIRLS wave at Sam as the pickup peels by. An American flag hangs limp

on a pole.

INT. PICKUP – DAY

Sam gazes distantly out the window. He touches his artificial arm.

He spots another farm, also closed boarded up.

SAM

There’s Averys house. Dad, that’s all

closed up too. What’s going on here?

JOHN

They moved away, Sam.

SAM

What’s been happening since I been gone?

JOHN

Well, there’s been increased Military

presence recently.

SAM

What kind of presence?

JOHN

Three shiploads over the last month.

Man. Material. Major reconstruction

downstairs. It’s got to do with research.

Weapons research. Maintenance and construction

of North Star has ground to a halt. The funding

has been reappropriated.

SAM

North Star isn’t a defense installation.

JOHN

Didn’t used to be.

SAM

What’s going on?

JOHN

There’s been an increased military presence,

that’s all. I’m just bringing you up to

date.

John steers the truck into a barn.

He pushes several buttons on a electronic computer on the inside roof on the

pickup.

EXT. BARN/ELEVATOR – DAY

The inside of the barn is solid steel. A huge elevator. There are glass

windows on the side. The pickup truck pulls in.

INT. PIKCUP – DAY

John presses a series of buttons on the complex control panel of the roof of

the pickup truck.

Through the windshield...The elevator starts to descend.

Sam watches through the windshield.

INT. ELEVATOR – SULACO SPACE STATIION

Suddenly through the windows, first the steel runners of the elevator shaft,

then the space station reveals itself, all fifty stories of it...

The pickup Truck sits on the elevator floor as the eye-popping technological

accomplishment of the fifty story space station reveals itself through the

windows. Massive, half a mile high beams and girders. Floor after floor.

Glass windows outside the elevator staring out on the planets and stars. Half

completed sections till under construction with futuristic construction

equipment, cranes and soldering units, build onto the miles wide space station

in the far reaches of space. Fifty story tall air tanks and water tanks lead

into a spiderweb of pipes and plumbing feeding up to North Star.

EXT. PICKUP – ELEVATOR – SULACO SPACE STATION

Sam watches.

SAM

Same old place.

JOHN

Not quite. You’ll see.

The elevator continues to lower the mechanoid hum.

It stops.

EXT. FORTY FIRST LEVEL – SULACO SPACE STATION

The elevator doors open.

The Pickup Truck drives out. It falls into step with armies of marching U.S.

Army soldiers and U.S. Military transport trucks and support vehicles that

move like an assembly line through the long, elaborate corridor ways.

INT. PICKUP

Sam looks at John.

John looks preoccupied.

SAM

Where we going, Dad?

JOHN

Debriefing.

John parks the vehicle.

INT. CORRIDOR – SULACO SPACE STATION

Sam and John walk. Numerous MILITARY PERSONNEL walk by, in groups of grey

suits. Large, tank like Military Transport trucks with U.S. Army star

insignia on the side move past down the corrugated steel floor of the multitiered

section of the station.

The General casually salutes a few of the man.

Sam notices they are being watched by men in dark suits with shades. The men

gather together and talk quietly, speaking into walkie-talkies.

SAM

Who are those guys?

JOHN

I told you military presence

has increased.

SAM

You weren’t shittin’.

They round a corner.

EXT. “SECTOR C”

A huge hydraulic door, fifty feet high, by the wall. The part of the space

station is clearly of recent construction. Two MILITARY SENTRYS stand holding

rifles at the ready stand by the door. Nobody gets it.

As they walk by, Sam looks at it. John seems tense.

SAM

Dad, when has Sector “C”

been closed off?

JOHN

About two weeks ago, Sam.

SAM

Right around the same time as

my accident. What’s going on in there?

JOHN

It’s classified, son.

Sam seems a little worried as they walk on down the corridor.

A Military Transport truck RUMBLES up and screeches to a halt. SERGEANT

CHONG, a short, bullet shaped Japanese officer swings out of the truck. He

has a cauliflower, friendly Asian face and he puffs a pipe. Sam cracks a big

grin when he seems him. Sergeant Chong smile wide, clasping Sam’s shoulder.

SAM

Hey Mike, how the hell are you?

SERGEANT CHONG

Sam, how the fucking heck are ya?

Jeez it’s good ta see ya up and

around. Jeezus John look at him,

he’s back in one piece again. I was

sweatin’ it there lemme tell ya.

SAM

Man, if it’s possible I think you’ve

gotten uglier. Yeah, I think so.

SERGEANT CHONG

I’d kick your ass, but I don’t beat

up on paraplegics, eh?

Sam grins, throwing some fast punches with his good arm.

SAM

Okay chink. One hand. One hand

behind my back. C’mon.

They spar in fun, then embrace.

SERGEANT CHONG

How the fuck are ya? You look

alright.

SAM

Good to be back on my feet.

SERGEANT CHONG

Hows the new arm?

SAM

It’s going to take some getting

used to. Least I’ve got one.

SAM

We were going to put some skin on me.

What are you doin’?

The Sergeant puts his arm around Sam.

SERGEANT CHONG

Takin’ the skin off ya.

HE signals the driver of the truck to move on. The three of them head off

down the corridor.

INT. HOSPITAL – SULACO SPACE STATION

A scientific lab operation room set up. White tile walls and highly

specialized equipment designed for the construction and repair of androids.

Arms, legs, even skinless mechanoid heads are on shelves and tables.

Sam lies bare-chested on an operating table. An ANRODI TECHNICIAN in a white

smock prostheticaly attaches the skin to the raw part of his synthetic arm.

John and Sergeant Chong looks on. The Technician seals the flap of rubber

flesh and the hydraulic and pneumatic tube mechanoid skeleton. He pats Sam on

the shoulder.

ANDROID TECHNICIAN

That about does it. We’ll do the coloring

next week, then you’ll be good as new.

Sam regards his pale white rubber arm.

SAM

Not too bad.

EXT. RESTARANT – SULACO SPACE STATION

Sam, John, and Chong bring their trays from the cafeteria and sit at a table

in the space station eating area. Special trees and vegetation in multileveled

tiers. Huge windows look out onto an awesome view of the side of the

space station. It is still under construction as massive cranes and spacemen

floating outside in space assemble pre-fab pieces of steel. Beyond, lie

planets and stars. The restaurant is rather nice, mixing stone and steel and

glass in a nice clean eatery.

While they are sitting there, Sam and John look out the window, sipping their

coffee. Chong watches Sam, hard emotion on the tough little Sergeants face.

SERGEANT CHONG

I was real sorry about your boys.

From what I hear it was a freak

accident. Wasn’t nothin’ you could do.

SAM

Yeah.

SERGEANT CHONG

There wasn’t.

JOHN

Here they are.

People approach.

SAM

Who’s this?

SERGEANT CHONG

The new kids. The element that has

moved into the neighborhood.

DR. ALICE RAND comes up to the table. She is a highly intelligent looking

woman in her late twenties, wearing a Science Officers uniform. She wears

thick glasses and radiates an aura of arrogant power. She takes a seat.

COLONEL HAROLD SINGLAIR, a thin, corporate looking military officer is with

her. Three Suit and Sunglasses MILITARY AGENTS are with them. They don’t

seem to smile much.

DR. RAND

Hello General.

JOHN

Dr. Alice Rand, this is my son, Sam Smith.

Captain Special Forces.

SAM

Pleased to meet you.

JOHN

Colonel Sinclair. My son Sam.

Sam shakes hands with him.

SAM

Colonel.

COLONEL SINCLAIR

Good to meet you, Sam. I see the

reconstructive surgery went well.

The army did our best. We brought in

our finest reconstructive surgeons.

We had several teams working on you

around the clock.

SAM

Thank you sir. I really appreciate

everything you’ve done.

COLONEL SINGLAIR

We wanted to ask you a few questions.

SAM

Yes sir.

COLONEL SINCLAIR

About the accident.

SAM

I don’t remember anything about

the accident sir. I’m afraid

I have kind of a blank.

COLONEL SINCLAIR

Too bad about your men.

SAM

What happened to their families?

COLONEL SINCLAIR

They’ve been relocated.

SAM

I would like very much to be able

to speak to them, sir. I knew them all

personally and it would mean a lot

if I was able to talk to them.

COLONEL SINCLAIR

That won’t be necessary.

SAM

What do you mean? Why won’t it be necessary?

COLONEL SINCLAIR

What I’m saying is Sam we’ve taken

care of all that for you. Probably

the best thing is just to leave it

behind us and move on.

SAM

With due respect, sir, they were my

men and I do wish to speak to the

families.

Dr. Rand eyes Sam with something passing for friendliness. She lights a

cigarette. John eyes her with a politically restrained disregard. Sam picks

that up. There is a funny, awkward moment of silence.

DR. RAND

So, Sam. The accident.

SAM

I said I don’t remember much.

DR. RAND

Much?

SAM

The accident.

DR. RAND

You said “much”. What exactly do you

remember, Sam?

SAM

Excuse me. With due respect, ma’am.

This debriefing I believe, is a

military priority. Are you military?

DR. RAND

Sort of. Colonel...?

COLONEL SINCLAIR

Let me jump in here. Sam, if I may.

Dr. Rand here is one of the foremost

minds in the area of scientific defense

research and you can feel comfortable

and...lets say...confident in talking to

her as well as us.

DR. RAND

Sam we need to know what you remember

about...the accident.

Sam looks at his father. John seems tense. HE keeps it in. Quietly, eyeing

the Doctor and the Colonel, and the uncomfortable Sergeant, and the Suits with

a low key disregard, he speaks softly.

JOHN

What my son said is he doesn’t remember

anything.

DR. RAND

But let us h--

JOHN

He doesn’t remember anything Doctor.

DR. RAND

Yes General.

They all look at each other. An awkward, uncomfortable relief.

DR. RAND

Well...It’s been good meeting you Sam.

We’re glad you’re well. We’ll see you, General.

Dr. Rand, Colonel Sinclair, and the Suits get up from the table. Sergeant

Chong remains at the table with Sam and John.

They watch them walk off.

SERGEANT CHONG

There goes the neighborhood.

EXT. SECTOR “C” – SULACO SPACE STATION

Sam and John Smith round the corner. They stand and watch the Sentrys open

the hydraulic gate. The door rides up and a large Military Transport truck

pulls out. Sam lights a cigarette and studies it.

Something falls off the back of the truck. Soldiers move by. Sam walks up

and looks.

A Black rubber body tag that ha ripped open. Several totally slaughtered and

eviscerated androids have spilled out. Their arms, faces, and torsos torn to

shreds. Sam watches as several Soldiers come by and clean up the mess,

putting it into the bag and throwing it in the back of the Military Transport.

The truck is filled with black rubber bags. Sam watches it pull out. He

puffs his cigarette.

SAM

What’s going on in there, dad?

JOHYN

Let’s get out of here, son.

They move on.

EXT. BAR – NORTH STAR

The pickup pulls up to a small bar on the edge of town. A few cars and

station wagons parked outside. A neon “Budweiser” sign in the window.

HONKY TONK MUSIC faintly heard inside. Sam and John Smith push through the

door. A power dynamo rises behind the bar, weeds growing here and there.

INT. BAR – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The two soldiers push through the front door. They walk up to the bar.

The neon Budweiser sign BUSSES on the window. FIVE TERRA FARMERS hang out by

the bar, and by the pool table. They are a blue collar bunch, in denim

jackets and jeans, beards, long hair, and caps. Cigarette smoke hangs in the

air a jukebox in the corner plays a country tune. BRIGGS the bartender,

redneck like the rest, comes over to them.

JOHN

Two Coors.

BRIGGS

Outa Coors. Space shipment

didn’t come in last month.

SAM

Two Buds then.

BRIGGS

Six Dollars.

JOHN

Hello Briggs. How’s the family?

The barman looks at him, unmistakable caution in his eyes.

BRIGGS

They’re alive, General. I’d

like to keep ‘em that way.

What’s going to downstairs,

General?

JOHN

Nothing for you to worry about, Briggs.

Sam, sitting at the bar, looks over his shoulder. Four of Terra Farmers are

playing a slow, sinister game of pool They glare at Sam and John as they pull

on their bears and knock the balls into the pockets. Another country song

comes on the jukebox. The bartender nervously leans over the bar to John.

BRIGGS

General, I signed on to this

godforsaken barge in space so

I could get my family off of earth

to someplace safe. Now all I see

are Military ships pullin’ in and

out, and something’ bein built

downstairs. I feel like me and muh

family is bein set for somethin’.

JOHN

Briggs. This is John Smith you’re

talking to and I’m telling you not to

worry. This colony in space isn’t

for defense purposes.

Down the other end of the bar, HARRY AGAR, a big gutted, bearded and drunk

Terra Farmer sits huddled over a glass. He looks down his shoulder at them.

AGAR

Bullfuckin’shit.

SAM

You got a problem?

AGAR

Yeah, I got a problem. These

guys, they got a problem. Everybody

lives on this goddamn shithole town

in space got a problem, soldier boy.

You’re the problem.

SAM

I don’t know what you’re talking about,

but I do know you’re talking to U.S. Army.

AGAR

Hey, soldier boy. I ain’t no

army faggot. What are you boys

doin’ down there, huh? Six hundred

thousand miles out in space? What

are you building? Gonna blow us up,

huh? Or maybe worse.

SAM

Why don’t you just relax?

AGAR

Relax. Relax, soldier boy? Families

of your got an moved out pretty quick

after you got ‘em wasted. Those Army

trucks just pulled right up and those

families and their houses was on the

next shuttle out. Like they never existed.

SAM

I don’t know about that.

JOHN

They wanted to relocate, that’s all.

WILLIE RAY HACKETT, a young sinewy Terra Farmer at the pool table drives the

ball into a corner pocket. E raises his cue and chalks it, spitting on the

sawdust floor.

WILLIE RAY

I say you’re full of shit.

All you soldiers are full of shit.

My Grandad used to live out in

Alamogordo back on earth. Military

moved in. Told them everything was

okay and meanwhile was doin’ nuclear

testin’. My Grandaddy died by forty of

cancer from the radiation. You think

we believe your bullshit about nothin’

going’ on down there? What we oughta do

is just kick all your army butts off this

station.

Sam slams down his bear. He gets up off the stool.

SAM

What you oughta do is try.

Three other Terra Farmers move over next to the one by the pool table. They

grab pool cues and stand in menacing silhouette, ready to use them.

WILLIE RAY

This is our bar.

The Bartender looks at John, tired and uneasy.

BARTENDER

I don’t’ want any trouble, John.

General Smith looks at the Terra Farmers. He throws back his beer and gets

up.

JOHN

Let’s go.

AGAR

Hey, Smith...

SAM

What?

AGAR

Talk to Simpson lately?

SAM

Simpson died.

AGAR

I seen him.

SAM

Bullshit.

AGAR

He’s around. Hey, Smith. Fill ‘er up.

That’s what he’ll say when you

see him. Fill ‘er up. Heh. Heh.

SAM

Let’s get the fuck outa here.

John his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam goes with him out the door of the bar.

EXT. BAR – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Sam and John jump in their pickup. They see the silhouettes of the Terra

Farmers standing in the window of the joint, in the glow of the beer sign.

INT. PICKUP – NIGHT

Sam and John are driving back. The windows are rolled down and in the light

of two moons, they see the small farms pass by in the fields.

SAM

Dad, look at that.

They look.

Three Military Transport trucks are in the driveway of one of the farms.

Soldiers are loading cattle into the rear gate. The headlights shine in the

dark.

SAM

That’s the Jones place.

Dad, they’re taking his livestock.

What the Hell is going here?

John drives, tight lipped.

JOHN

I don’t know.

They drive on down the dark country road. Headlight punch them in the face as

three more Military Transport trucks once at them from the other direction.

The trucks rush past, then are gone.

SAM

They’re heading for the elevator.

John stares through the windshield.

JOHYN

Let’s get some sleep.

He pats Sam on the leg.

JOHN

It’s been a long day.

They drive on.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. SMITH HOUSE – DAWN

Double sunrise.

The farmhouse and windmill in silhouette against a flaming sky.

INT. ELEVATOR – SPACE STATION

The elevator lowers through the fifty floors.

Sam is riding it.

INT. OFFICE – HOLOGRAPHIC HALL OF RECORS – SPACE STATION

Sam stands at the counter, speaking with the MILITARY CLERK.

SAM

...On February 12

th

this year, there

were six tapes taken by the crew of

the rescue shuttle Tulsa when they

boarded the Warship Sulaco. They

are probably catalogued under SX512.

Series 1 through 9.

MILITARY CLERK

Yes sir. I’ll get them right away.

The Clerk goes to a computer screen with a keyboard. He punches in some

digits. Stands and waits. There is a BEEOING on the screen.

He returns to Sam.

MILITARY CLERK

Those tapes are classified.

Sorry if can’t help you.

SAM

Classified under whose orders?

MILITARY BOOKKEEPER

Dr. Rand, sir.

Sam regards him.

SAM

Thanks, private.

He leaves.

INT. CORRIDOR – SPACE STATION

Sam walks through the corridor. He is being followed. Men in suits with

sunglasses and walkie talkies.

Then a Military Transport Truck pulls up beside him. Sergeant Chong chucks

him a friendly grin. He waves Sam in.

INT. CAB – TRANSPORT TRUCK

Sam rides along with Sergeant Chong.

SERGEANT CHONG

C’mon Sam, I’ll give you a lift back

up.

They drive through the huge space station hallway.

The small empty light on the fuel gauge flashes on.

SERGEANT CHONG

Shit, bucket of bolts sunofabitch

run outa gas on me again. Fuckin’

thing should be sold for scrap iron.

Ride with me while I get gas.

SAM

Sure.

The squat, bullet headed Sergeant spins the big wheel in his hands.

INT. RAMP – SPACE STATION

The truck lurches down the long ramp, deep into the bowels of the ship.

INT. CAB – TRANSPORT TRUCK

Sam looks around.

SERGEANT CHONG

Nobody gets back here except the mechanics.

The Sergeant drives into a football field sized repair shop. Sam whistles.

INT. REPAIR AREA – SPACE STATION

TITAN CRANE SHOT DOWN ON...

Gigantic cranes, Transport and Military trucks taken apart, piles of parts and

mechanical innards, large robotic arms pieces vehicles and construction

equipment back together. The truck dives into the titanic maintenance shop.

Forklifts hoist broken down vehicles. TWENTY REPAIR MEN works with

blowtorches and power drills. Sparks fly. POUNDING and CLANGING fill the

air. Smoke and steam wreath the area, making large mechanoid silhouettes in

the backlit diffusion. Overhead tractors lift pieces of vehicles a hundred

feet into the air, the mechanical clamps traveling across the area in one

direction or the other on an elaborate roof monorail system.

The Transport Truck drives through all the men and equipment to a small Gas

Depot nestled in the back somewhere.

INT. GAS DEPOT – REPAIR AREA

THE CAMERA GLIDES DOWN with the transport truck as it pulls up to the pumps.

A GASMAN stands in grimy overalls beside the pumps. He walks up to the side

of the truck and looks in Sam’s window.

Simpson.

INT. CAB – TRANSPORT TRUCK – GAS DEPOT

Sam does a double take.

Simpson regards Sam with a blank expression.

SERGEANT CHONG

Fill ‘er up. High octane.

SAM

Simpson.

SIMPSON

Excuse me?

SAM

It’s me. It’s Sam.

Don’t you recognize me?

Simpson doesn’t. He doesn’t seem to register much. His eyes are dull.

SAM

Simpson...

SIMPSON

No sir, I’m sorry I don’t.

SERGEANT CHONG

Fill it up, Private. I want to get

the fuck out of here.

SIMPSON

Right away.

He leaves and goes to the pump. Sam sits back in his seat, shell-shocked.

Like a robot, Simpson walks to the gas pumps and takes off the hose, sticking

it in the tank of the truck. He is near Sam’s window.

SERGEANT CHONG

You know him?

SAM

Me? No.

Sam looks at the side of Simpson’s head. There is a stitched incision in his

skull, behind the right ear.

Sam’s eyes widen. He touches his similar scar behind his ear.

INT. GAS DEPOT – REPAIR AREA

Simpson takes the spigot out of the tank and returns into the pump. He waves

the Transport Truck on. Sergeant Chong drives out.

INT. CAB – TRANSPORT TRUCK

Sam, hiding his horror, stares out the back windshield as Simpson, the

lobotomized soldier stands by the pumps, slowly obscured by the steam and

smoke of the Repair Area as the truck pull further away from him.

The soldier sits back in his seat, staring straight ahead.

INT. OFFICE – HOLOGRAPHIC HALL OF RECORDS – SPACE STATION

Sam smashes his way through the door and walks up to the desk.

SAM

Get me those tapes. Now, private.

MILITARY CLERK

I told you, those tapes are under class—

Sam grabs the man by the throat and slams him up against the wall. He pulls

his Colt .45 and sticks it up the man’s nose.

MILITARY CLERK

I don’t know anything about this.

SAM

The tapes.

INT. STAGE – HOLOGRAPHIC HALL OF RECORDS – SULACO SPACE STATION

A wide, warehouse-sized stage. Projectors pointing down from the ceiling.

Wall of cassettes floor to ceiling. A huge consol. Sam walks swiftly into

the room. He moves tot he consol and punches the date into the screen.

He sticks the cassette into the slot and hits the button.

BBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzztt. A burst of green laser from the

ceiling...

It’s the Alien!

A fifteen foot high, 3 D laser recreation of the creature looming over Sam.

Sam jumps back, staring wide-eyed up at the green dimensional holograph of the

creature, it’s snout turning to him. Sam puts his hand through it. The

soldier pulls himself together and walks through the fully life-sized figures

of his men and him in the holographicaly recreated freezer chamber of the

warship. He sees himself and h is soldiers, like laser ghosts, whirl in

horror, totally unarmed as the Alien swings down from the rafters and hits

them. Sam screams out as he sees the creatures jackhammer jaws piledrive the

recreation of him in the torso, taking his arm and a good part of his ribcage

with it. Sam is splattered with green holographic blood.

THE CAMERA PUSHES IN TO AN TIGHT CLOSE UP OF SAMS FACE as his face contorts in

anguish he watches the monster tear his men to pieces, ripping them limb from

limb in a greenish slaughterhouse, their faces screaming in total silence,

which makes it worse.

Sam staggers to the consol and pushes the stop button. BBBZZZzzzzzzztt. The

lasers cut off and the room is plunged into darkness. Sam stands alone in the

empty holographic chamber. He puts his face in his hands and weeps.

EXT. CATTLE PEN – SMITH HOUSE – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Sam stands alone by the cattle pen, staring off alone into the rolling

farmlands. The star twinkle. Two moons hang in the sky, in the distant

reaches of space.

A lonely wind whips up, blowing Sam’s clothes about him as he stands grazing

into the night. The door to his house and John Smith stands in silhouette in

b.g., frames in the lights of the kitchen. He comes up behind his son. Sam

just leans against the fence. John Smith is wearing his Generals uniform.

JOHN

What is it?

SAM

Why didn’t you tell me?

JOHN

What do you mean?

SAM

What happened to it?

JOHN

To what?

Sam faces his father.

SAM

To that fucking thing that

ripped me in half and wasted

my men.

John sighs. He leans against the fence and lights a cigarette. His so

doesn’t take his eyes off him.

JOHN

You know, I don’t always agree

with the military, or...like what

I sometimes have to do. I wanted

North Star and this station to be

a life support system in space.

I didn’t want it to be a place where

we would be...But I have a job Sam.

I’m here to do my job.

SAM

Dad. Why didn’t you tell me?

JOHN

To protect you.

SAM

That’s a lot of shit.

JOHN

It was for your own good, Sam.

There’s a lot of things on this

station that have been taken out

of my hands, but not my family.

SAM

I’M YOUR OWN SON, AND YOU LIED TO ME!

JOHN

THEY WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU, SAM!

OR THEY WOULD HAVE LOBOTOMIZED YOU

LIKE THEY DID THAT SIMPSON BOY!

HOW COULD I PUT YOU AT THAT RISK

BY TELLING YOU! You’re my son, and

I’ve done everything I could to protect

you. I couldn’t tell you what happened

out there...because I couldn’t be sure

you’d be safe then.

He puts his hand on his sons shoulder.

JOHN

I hope you can understand. I hope

you don’t judge me too hard.

I really hope that.

John Smith, looking hunched and older, turns and walks back into the house.

Then the sound of the car in the driveway. Sam watches as John’s car travels

off down the dirt road towards town.

Sam leans against the fence, looking out at the cattle, looking out at the

rolling farmlands, watching the distant, twinkling lights of North Star

against the stars in the sky and the two moons.

Then he sees the Transport truck.

The vehicle lumbers down the dirt road and pulls into the driveway of the

Browns farm across the way. The big military truck slams to a stop by the pig

pen. Sam watches, absently lighting a cigarette as he sees the MILITARY TRUCK

DRIVER jump out and go to the pen, where thirty ugly pigs root about. Under

the cover of night, BROWN comes out of his house and starts helping the Truck

Driver load fifteen pigs into the rear gate. Sam stays out of sight, watching

carefully.

TRUCK DRIVER

Next stop, Sector “C”.

BROWN

The papers are inside.

The two men walk inside the house.

Sam crawls through his fence. HE hurries across the small field to where the

Transport Truck is parked. He clambers through the back gate into the hold

where all the pigs are stowed.

EXT. BROWN HOUSE – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The Transport Trucks headlights punch the night as it pulls out of the

driveway, lumbering off down the main road in clouds of dusty dirt.

INT. BACK GATE – TRANSPORT TRUCK – NIGHT

Sam is scrunched between fifteen filthy, noisy hogs. He wrinkles his nose and

stays down. He feels he truck BUMPING down the road.

EXT. ELEVATOR BARN – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The military vehicle drives up to the electronic door of the barn.

The lights of the town of North Star are in the distance. The electric door

opens and the truck drives in.

INT. ELEVATOR – NIGHT

Descending with it’s ELECTRIC HUM. The Truck inside.

INT. BACK GATE – TRANSPORT TRUCK – NIGHT

Sam huddles with the hogs, his eyes and ears alert. He is covered with mud

and shit. He feels the elevator stop. He feels the Truck move.

INT. HYDRAULIC GATE – “SECTOR C” – NIGHT

The two SENTRYS stand duty, holding automatic weapons.

The Transport Truck pulls up to the gate. The Sentrys walk up to the windows.

The Truck Drive hands them his authorization.

TRUCK DRIVER

Livestock.

The soldiers tred to the rear gate of the Truck. They open the gate. The

Sentrys shine flashlights into the hold where the pigs are stowed.

INT. BACK GATE – TRANSPORT TRUCK – NIGHT

The flashlight flares off the CAMERA as the blackened shape of Sam huddles

within the silhouettes of the pigs as the flashlight passes across them.

The gate to the Truck is closed And he is again in total darkness.

EXT. HYDRAULIC GATE – “SECTOR C” – NIGHT

The soldiers look over the Truck, hands on their weapons. The Sentrys open

the huge hydraulic gate. They wave the truck through.

The Transport Truck drives into Sector “C”, taking Sam with it.

INT. BACK GATE – TRANSPORT TRUCK – NIGHT

Sam crouches down with the OINKING pigs. He hears the wheels of the truck

rolling on a metal surface. He feels the vehicle make several turns.

It seems to drive forever. Then it stops. He hears a MECHANICAL DOOR

OPENING.

He feels the Truck pull in. Then stop. Then he feels the back gate floor of

the Transport Truck lifting like the rear of a dump truck. The back gate

opens into darkness. He is sliding with the terrified, panic-stricken pigs

out of the truck.

INT. CHUTE – “SECTOR C” – NIGHT

Sam tumbles head over heels with fifteen fat, rolling pigs down a stained,

stainless steel shaft in almost total darkness. They all slide together.

INT. BREEDING ROOM – “SECTOR C” – NIGHT

Black as hell.

Sam hits something soft. So do the pigs. Straw. We don’t see anything.

We hear it...

ANIMAL SCREAMS. DOG HOWLS. CAT SQUALLS. PIG SQUELS. The air is ripped with

the horrifying din of hundreds of shrieking animals. And the SOUND OF RIPPNG

FLESH. Sam reaches into his pocket and brings out his lighter.

He flicks a flame.

In the light of the flame, a foot from him, a pig with a Face Hugger on it,

it’s hooves shaking spasmodically on the ground. Sam jumps in shock.

He drops his lighter. The flame hits the straw. Fire leaps. Glimmering

firelight begins to reveal the room he is.

There are animal cages everywhere, stacked on the top of each other. There

are animal pens here and there is a big, steel beamed warehouse space. The

floor is covered with straw and wet with blood and guts. Near him, the belly

of a pig ruptures and chest burster smashes out in a sickening spray of

intestines.

The Pig Alien has the wide torso, tiny head, and little legs of a pig.

Sam hears something SCUTTLE behind him. He whirls to see a Face Hugger

running for him. He leaps up onto one of the cages just as the thing flies

through the air with a punch of its whiplash tail. It hits a pig in the face

instead. Sam lands hand and feet on the bars of the cage and looks through

the bars to see...

A Pit Bull dog struggling on the ground as it’s ribs explode out its stomach

and a Dog Alien tugs itself out. The Dog Alien leaps right for Sam’s face and

he jumps onto another cage just as the Pit Bull-like jaws lock on the bars.

Now ten or more Face Huggers are scrambling across the gore-splattered straw

floor for Sam. They want his ass. Sam clambers onto another cage. The fires

are now consuming the straw on the floor and the whole place is becoming

revealed in the light of the flames. It looks like something straight out of

hell as the fire glints off the metal walls and the bars of the cages.

Within, the Dog Aliens, and Cat aliens, and Chicken Aliens scramble about,

hissing and biting in fury. The pigs move about in a raw panic as Face

huggers leap out of the dark corners attach himself to their faces, jamming

tendrils in their snouts. Sam climbs up the cages as Face Hugger leaps up at

him.

The overhead sprinklers come on.

Water surges over the room in a big spray, dousing the fires and bathing the

Aliens in water.

Soaking wet, Sam climbs up to one of the big air vents in the ceiling. He

pulls the grating off and clambers inside.

INT. AIR VENT – “SECTOR C” – NIGHT

The soldier lies on his back in the warm vent, gasping for air, recovering

from the horror. He pushes the grate back on and looks down on the breeding

room as the sprinklers put the fire out. Soon it is black. Sam hears SOUNDS

in the vent, from other openings in and around the Sector. He hears voices.

Trucks. People moving.

Sam crawls on his belly across the metal sheeting, his hair blown in the warm

wind. Soon he comes to another grating. He peers through it.

SAMS P.O.V.: A locker room. A shower stall. White scientific smocks hung up

on the wall. Sterile clothing. RUSS and LAUREN, two scientists, are kissing

heavily and feeling each other up. He has his hand under her bra.

RUSS

C’mon baby, let’s use the anti-gravity

room. Let’s do it floating in space.

LAUREN

Okay. C’mon, lets go.

Hands all over each other, they breathlessly move through another door,

leaving the room empty. Sam quietly dislodges the grate.

INT. LOCKER ROOM – “SECTOR C”

Sam jumps down. He quickly strips and hurls his clothes into a trash bin.

Sam gets in the shower and turns it on.

EXT. CORRIDOR – “SECTOR C”

THREE SCIENCE PERSONNEL go in the door to the locker room. Sam walks out just

as they walk in, fully dressed in a white smock and pants. He nods to them

and they nod to him.

THE CAMERA TRACKS with Sam as he walks down the top secret military sector.

The walls and floor are of high density corrugated steel. Cameras are mounted

on the ceiling. Big military Trucks RUMBLE through the corridor. Rows of

MILITARY BRASS and SPECIAL FORCES SOLDIERS walk past in lines of grey. Their

boots clank on the ground. Bunches of SCIENCE OFFICERS walk through the

corridor in a grey line. Something is happening...

Sam sees a big, floor to ceiling window. Inside, there are multiple glass

cubicles.

EXT. LAB – SECOTR “C”

Sam walks up to the window looking into other windows in a series of lab

cubicles under the sterile, antiseptic glare of flourescents.

John Smith sits on a cot with his shirt sleeve rolled up. Dr. Rand stands in

front of a small army of scientists and military people.

Dr. Rand administers him an injection from a heavy-duty hypodermic gun.

John Smith nods, excitement and real dread in his eyes. Sam cannot hear what

they are saying. They all get up and leave the room. Secretively, Sam slips

into—

INT. LAB – SECTOR “C”

The soldier looks around. Tables with microscopes. Racks of test tubes.

Large blackboards with complex genetic fusion and gene splicing formulations

on them. Sam sees TWENTY SCIENCE PERSONNEL peering through the microscopes.

The soldier walks up and peers through one of the microscopes.

MICROSCOPE P.O.V.: It looks like war. Black, biting cells of some unknown

origin are chewing away and eating up the red blood cells on the slide. It is

an unsettling sight.

Sam moves away from the microscope, really uneasy. He looks up and sees a

large number of Scientists and Military types milling into a lecture room.

INT. LECTURE ROOM – “SECTOR C”

Sam watches form behind the window. Dr. Rand is in front of a blackboard.

There is a screen, and a projector. She is facing Smith and the Scientists.

DR. RAND

...This organism, on a cellular, even

a molecular level, is a purely and totally

predatory. We have never encountered an

organism that had its characteristics...

or its potential. To survive, this cell

DR. RAND (Contd)

attacks, and assimilates the cells of whatever

it encounters. In this manner it takes on

the form of what it kills. But this is what

is most interesting...Gentlemen, I put to you

that this organism, this cell, can assimilate

not only with organic matter, but with inorganic

matter. Please watch...

The lights dim.

The projector rolls. One the screen, a solid, metallic molecule. Also, the

black, armoured, alien cell. The Alien cell attacks and absorbs the other

molecule, becoming one, steely, armoured thing.

The lights come up. Dr. Rand wears a small smile.

DR. RAND

That was metal.

A hush.

DR. RAND

The DNA structure here doesn’t screw around.

Gentlemen, do you realize what we have

here? Do you realize the potential we can

use it for? Imagine a living, organic jet

fighter, or an Alien tank.

Sam, shuddering, listens in. Dr. Rand looks at her watch.

DR. RAND

We’re all going to be late.

INT. CORRIDOR – “SECTOR C”

They walk out into the corridor. A large number of Military Personnel and

Scientists are milling though the hall, into a large door. Sam secretly

follows them inside.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

Sam follows John into a basketball court-sized room. The ceilings are fifty

feet in height. Metal corrugated walls and a sheet steel floor. There are

large opening doors built into the roof, now closed. There are more than a

hundred folding chairs on the floor and they are filled to capacity with

MILITARY BRASS and CIENCE OFFICERS. MUFFLED TALK reverberates around the

room. They all take their seats.

John sees Sam. Sam sucks wind.

John looks away, hi face expressionless. Sergeant Chong is with him.

The room quiets.

Dr. Rand walks out onto the floor. She holds a microphone in her hands. The

woman doctor smiles out at the military establishment in the seats, her face

flushed with power and adrenaline. She speaks confidently into the mike.

DR. RAND

Hello, ladies and gentlemen.

What you are about to see, is

history. All of our work over

the last three months, ten years

of research as gone into what

you are about to see now. A new

soldier, ladies and gentlemen, one

that can be fully controlled, and

bred in a controlled environment.

A living war machine utterly violent

and utterly effective. One that until

now, couldn’t be controlled. Until now.

Drop it.

There I a HUM in the ceiling and all eyes turn up. There are gasps and

muffled cries of fright form the audience. Dr. Rand watches the crowd with a

small, smug smile on her face.

The Alien is lowered on massive hydraulic clamps that pin it’s arms and legs

to is insectile skeletal torso. It’s greenish, black armour plated chest is

firmly restrained. It’s pronged, spinelike tail I held in another clamp. The

creature moves it’s snout around, its’ first set of metallic teeth opening and

closing and releasing drools of vasaline-like saliva. Its black, lifeless

eyes study the people down below as the hydraulic clamp system lowers the

Alien to the floor, its feet touching steel.

The people in the audience are paralyzed. The airlock doors are closed.

DR. RAND

Relax ladies and gentlemen.

I assure you the Alien is

completely restrained. But your

concerns are valid. The alien is a

killing machine, nearly indestructible

and totally predatory. I wouldn’t

want to be you if you were Russians

and we released an army of the things

by airdrop into Moscow.

She laughs. The audience tries to laugh. Nervously.

DR. RAND

Which is, you see, what the potential is.

But, what we have done here is “Sector C”

is taken things one step further.

We have trained it. Ladies and gentlemen,

we have trained this monster like it was

a domestic pet. It responds to commands.

It does as it is told. It cooperates.

What you are looking at, ladies and gentlemen,

is the soldier of the future. Release it.

HUMMMMM. CLICKICK. Then massive metal clamps restraining the Alien pull

apart and retract into the ceiling. The Alien stands there.

The audience panics. They almost leave their chairs. Dr. Rand puts out her

hand.

DR. RAND

Please stay in your seats,

ladies and gentlemen. I assure

you that you have nothing whatsoever

to fear. Observe.

Dr. Rand holds the microphone in one hand and walks slowly, confidently, step

by step up to the Alien. The armoured, insectile creature towers fifteen

feet, looming over her. Drool dribbles from its jaws as it eyes her.

Dr. Rand walks up to it. She reaches up her hand. She touches the Aliens

snout and pets it gently. The Alien doesn’t do anything, it’s head hardly

moves.

A gasp goes up from the audience.

With an arrogant grin, Dr. Rand turns to the audience. Her back is to the

Alien.

DR. RAND

See what I told you? Tame as a

kitten.

The Aliens first set of jaws open, piledriver jaws jackhammering the back of

Dr. Rands head, exploded it off her shoulders in a shower of meat. Her

decapitated, spurting boy collapses to the floor.

The Alien attacks.

The audience screams and runs for their lives. They hammer the airlock

buttons and the big doors hiss open as the beast wades into the mob of people

trampling one another, tearing them limb from limp. Fire hydrant geysers of

blood.

Red lights flash in the arena as the alarm starts going off.

Some of the soldiers draw their weapons, but they can’t see the Alien through

the crowd. Sam and John Smith are separated as twenty five of the fifty

people in the room squeeze their way through the airlock door.

The door slides shut, trapping thirty people inside the arena.

INT. MAIN AREA – “SECTOR C”

The twenty five soldiers and scientists try to make it out the door in a human

stampede. Red swirling alarm lights on the roof paint their faces in strobes

of red. Sam pushes through the crowd as they run for their lives. He is

looking for John Smith.

SAM

DAD! DAD! DAD!

He realizes Sam didn’t make it through the doors. He turns pale as he walks

to the airlock door and touches the thick steel plates.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

CLOSE UP of General Smith squeezed against the airlock door. Blood like from

an airhose splashes his face and uniform as he stares at something o.s..

Shadows play across his face and the wall. Fifteen foot shadows of an Alien

ripping human after human limb from limb, body parts in shadow from the red

alarm lights. This is Hell. John Smith covers his face and sinks to the

floor.

INT. MAIN AREA – “SECTOR C”

Pandemonium in Sector “C”. ALARMS are going off everywhere. Red lights flash

on and off. Scientists and Lab Personnel are running out of the labs and

offices into the main area to see what’s going on. A thirty man army of

Special Forces Troops drive into the area in a huge military carrier.

Sam helps some of the people to their feet. Everybody is screaming and crying

and yelling. The young soldier pulls his .45 out of his belt and FIRES a few

rounds in the air.

The Green Berets come over to him.

SPECIAL FORCES #1

What the hells going on here?

SAM

That monster you guys have been

keeping got loose in there. There’s

at least thirty people that didn’t

make it out. My father is one

of them.

A young Special Forces Soldier walks up, face sweating.

SPECIAL FORCES #2

Sir, Colonel Winner is in there.

He didn’t make it out with us.

SAM

I’m Sam Smith. Captain Special Forces.

I think I’m the ranking officer here.

He flashes the I.D. card in his wallet. The Special Forces team surrounds

him.

SAM

I think it’s pretty simple. We have

to kill that monster and get everybody

the fuck out. First thing is I want

all non military personnel down here

evacuated and sent up to North Star.

Keep things quiet. Put them in the

Military barracks. We don’t want people

to panic yet.

Several of the Special Forces men hurry off and begin sheparing all of the

Science Personnel and non coms onto the back of transports. Other transports

pull in the soldiers load the people on.

SPECIAL FORCES #3

How many are alive in there?

SAM

I don’t know. Things happened fast.

We have to get our hands on all the

firepower we can and blow that fucker to

grease. Is there any video access to that

room?

SPECIAL FORCES #1

Yes sir. In security.

INT. SECURITY ROOM – “SECTOR C”

Sam heaves a chair through the window and it shatters in an explosion of the

glass. He and the Special Forces men climb through the window into the room

There is a bank of video consols on the walls, with camera coverage of all the

rooms.

They all stare.

There are three screens revealing the arena. The bowels of Hell.

SAM

Jesusfuckingchrist.

On the black and whit screen, the Alien is weaving huge, suspension bridgelike

cocoon all over the warehouse area. Thirty people, half mutilated or dead are

spun into the cocoon. The fifteen foot Alien looks like a weavewoman with the

tender care it takes in building its nest.

Sam operates a joystick on the controls. The TV camera zooms in and pans to

reveal tortured, slimed faces in the thick tendrils of cocoon from floor to

ceiling. Some are already beginning to reform...

SAM

Oh my god, it’s breeding itself.

Then Sam quickly adjusts the camera. The screen shows John Smith huddling

beneath a pile of corpses. Sergeant Chong is alive and hiding under the

slaughtered bodies too, small and out of sight in the corner of the arena.

SAM

Dad.

Sam adjusts the joystick.

The screen is suddenly filled with the face of the Alien. The creatures first

set of jaws open, filling the b&w screen. The second piledriver set hits the

screen and the picture goes static.

The young soldier whirls to the others.

SAM

We’ve gotta get them out.

SPECIAL FORCES #1

That door is heavily reinforced.

We’ll have to get one of the construction

trucks and mash it down. That’ll

take a little time.

SAM

They don’t have much time. Get some

men down to Maintenance and get the

truck. I’m going to go in through

the air shaft. That’s how I got

in the first place.

They move out of the room. THE HANDHELD CAMERA hurries with them as they head

into—

INT. MAIN AREA – SECTOR “C”

SPECIAL FORCES #1

Broderick and Hanson. Go down to Maintenance.

SPECIAL FORCES #1

and bring back a wrecker.

The two Special Forces soldiers hurry off down the corridor. All around

Sector “C” red siren lights are flashing and people run in every direction as

the Special Forces troops hustle the Scientists and non coms onto the back of

large Transport trucks.

They all walk up to the massive airlock door to the arena.

SAM

Is there any other way in or

out of there except through here

SPECIAL FORCES #1

No, sir.

SAM

Well, at least we’re keeping those things in.

You and you. C’mon.

Sam grabs two Special Forces soldiers and they rush off to the air vent in the

wall.

SPECIAL FORCES #1

Hey, Captain.

Sam stops.

SPECIAL FORCES #1

Those things bite.

SAM

I’ll be back.

Sam and disengages the air vent grating. He heaves himself up into the air

grate, with the soldiers in tow.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

The Alien sites like a drunken giant in the corner, slowly dying, it’s huge

armoured anatomy slowly dissipating. It’s snout sinks lower to its chest.

The room is spun with cocoon. The full hundred yards square and fifty foot

high room is latticeworked with suspension bridges of otherworldly, white,

iron hard spun.

Then there are the bodies. Some alive, some dead, all mutilated and in

various states of transformation. Faces hang suspended twenty feet up,

contorted in the anguish of a birth phase beyond imagination. Blood like a

lake covers the floor. The hideous screams and moans of the scientists and

soldiers spun into the cocoons echoes eerily around the recesses of the

chamber.

The Alien is dying. It’s armour is drying. Its teeth open and close. It’s

snout begins to fall towards its chest.

John Smith gasps for breath. He almost doesn’t dare breathe. He leans by the

airlock door surveying the scene of unspeakable horror. He is hidden from the

huge Aliens view by a bridge of cocoon like cotton metal through the room. He

doesn’t move a muscle.

Sergeant Chong huddles with him, eyeing him. He whispers.

SERGEANT CHONG

How the fuck we gonna get outa this one,

Johnnie?

INT. AIR VENT – “SECTOR C”

Sam crawls through the narrow, aluminum shaft. His face is laced with sweat.

The Special Forces soldiers crawl behind him. They cling to their rifles.

They crawl on their bellies through the air vent until they hears the sounds.

Those sounds...

Sam peers through the grating and carefully, carefully dislodges it. He

stares down at the horrible sight.

SAM

We see you.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

John Smith turns his head. RACK FOCUS to show the open grate of the air vent.

He sees his son. He is grey and clammy in color but he catches his breath.

He taps Sergeant Chong. They exchange a glance.

And they begin to move...

The Alien is now near dead, but it remains blood-splattered and formidable as

it hulks by the wall. It’s snout slowly nods. The General crawls carefully

on his hands and knees below the hideous human remains wrapped in the cocoons.

John Smith winces as he is splatted with blood as an Alien leg erupts in bone

and guts from one of the cocooned scientists.

He moves, frigid with horror, on.

INT. AIR VENT – “SECTOR C”

Sam stays down. He sees his dad now.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

John Smith nods slowly to his son. He crawls on all fours through the blood

pooling and coagulating on the metal floor.

RRRRRRRrrrrrriiIIIIIiiiPPPpp.

The General turns his head. A six foot tall, humanoid Alien is tearing its

way out of one of the cocoons. It’s armoured, slimy snout snaps at the air as

it tries to extricate itself from the thick, tendrily cocoon substance. IT

sees John Smith and lets out an unearthly shriek, ripping furiously at the

cocoon to tear itself loose.

Smith gets to his feet and runs for it. The fifteen foot Alien in the corner

now lifts it’s head. It’s first set of teeth open and close. Droop drips.

IT stumbles to it’s feet.

Smith reaches the wall where the air vent is.

Sam tries to reach down but he is full five feet above his father. The Alien

in the cocoon has now torn free and come crashing to the floor on its face.

It gets up quickly and starts ducking its way through the cocoons to get to

John.

INT. AIR VENT – “SECTOR C”

Sam reaches out of the vent. He looks at one of the Soldiers.

SAM

GRAB MY LEGS!

The two Soldiers lower him out by the legs. He reaches down for his father.

SAM

Grab my hand.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

Sergeant Chong boosts John Smith up. Sams hands reach his fathers.

JOHN

I got you. Hurry.

SAM

Hang on.

Sam starts pulling him up. They watch in terror as the big Alien rips the

cocoons bridgework asunder as it lumbers across the room toward them. More

cocoons are opening and fully formed Aliens are struggling their way out.

Sam, clinging to his fathers arms, pulls him up back into the air vent.

The young soldier leans out again and grabs Sergeant Chong, dragging him into

the vent.

INT. AIR VENT – SECTOR “C”

Sam pulls the man through the vent.

Seconds later, the big Alien jams it’s snout through the grate. Sam and John

duck out of the way as the huge face pushes through the grate, getting stuck.

It’s piledriver jaws punch through its first set of teeth and go at them,

snapping. They squeeze safely away.

Sam grabs a grenade from his belt. He bites out the pin.

SAM

Breakfast of champions

He chucks the grenade into the Aliens mouth. The creature swallows it.

KRAKA-KABOOOOOOOOOOM! It gets it’s head blown off.

INT. ARENA – “SECTOR C”

The headless Alien corpse falls backwards into the cocoon latticework. Now

thirty, forty Aliens are busting forth from their molting shells.

INT. AIR VENT – “SECTOR C”

Sam and John Smith hug.

SAM

You okay?

JOHN

I’m okay.

SAM

We gotta get out of here.

Lets go boys.

The Special Forces team clamber back through the air vent.

JOHN

My God. Those men and women.

They’re all dead and they died

screaming. Their families.

What have we done?

SAM

Dad...

JOHN

I know.

They look at each other in fear. They all climb out of the air vent.

EXT. NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Real quiet.

The ground tremors.

The lights of the small town go off. The lights flicker on again.

EXT. ELEVATOR – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The barn doors slide open. Four transport trucks loaded with noncoms from the

underground pull out, RUMBLING OFF down the dirt road.

EXT. MAIN STREET – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The trucks with their headlights hurtle through the Main Street. Terra

Farmers on the sidewalks watch the terrified Scientist faces in the back of

the trucks as they rush through town.

The earth shakes.

The traffic signal flashes red, then yellow, then green. Then red. Then

green. Then red. The cars nearly collide at the intersection. The Terra

Farms get out, Briggs and HANKS DAWSON, and they both have the same fear on

their faces.

HANK

What the hells goin’ on down there, Briggs?

BRIGGS

I dunno, Hank, but somethin’ sure is.

The trucks are gone.

INT. KITCHEN – SMITH HOSUE – NIGHT

The Smiths huddle at the table. The lights go off. They come on again.

MARY

You guys want to play checkers?

We could watch TV.

KAREN

Mom.

MARK

Mommy.

MARY

You want some cocoa?

KAREN

Where’s Daddy?

MARK

Where’s Sam?

Fear is written on their features. Mary hugs her children.

MARY

It’s going to be alright.

Plaster falls on table as the house shakes, then is still.

EXT. MILITARY AND SCIENTIFIC COMPOUND – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Somewhere out in the middle of the corn fields lies a large housing complex...

The four Trucks drive down the road and pull up to the gate.

INT. MILITARY AND SCIENTIFIC COMPOUND – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The Trucks enter into the compound parking lot. The Scientists scramble off

the back of the vehicles. SCIENCE PERSONNEL FAMILY MEMBERS, some of them

half-dressed, leave their apartments and run to their husbands and wives, that

are clambering out of the trucks, not looking too good.

PUSH IN SHOT as the PFC CHARLES, who headed the truck team walks up to ARMY

CORP OF ENGINNEERS CAPTIAN WILKES, who is still in his robe.

CAPTAIN WILKES

What the hell is going on?

PFC CHARLES

There’s a problem in the underground, sir.

The Captain looks up.

CAPTIAN WILKES

Looks like there’s a problem up here, too.

The PFC looks where he is looking.

EXT. MILITARY AND SCIENTIFIC COMPOUND – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Ten Pickup Trucks and Family Wagons have pulled up in front of the night

shrouded compound. Two dozen Terra Farmers, dressed in denims and boots are

climbing out. They walk up to the gate.

BRIGGS

We want to know what the fuck is

going on down there.

Captain Wilkes holds up his open palms.

CAPTAIN WILKES

We’re not sure. The best thing

for all of to do is relax.

BRIGGS

You Goddamn army boys been fuckin’

with us for the last time!!! We--!

That is when they feel the ground shake beneath their feet. It is a small

tremor, but the lights go off for a few seconds, and when the com back on,

everybodys face is pale.

INT. MAIN AREA – SECTOR “C”

The red lights and alarms are still going off. The area has been cleared of

non coms. The army of Special Forces troops stands by the door. Sam, John,

and the two other Soldiers climb out of the vent.

They hear the ENGINE and they see the Wrecker. A Twenty foot tall, all

purpose construction vehicle, with men-high tires, and a bulldozer shovel

drives in and pulls up by the door.

SAM

EVERYBODY ON! WE’RE GOING IN!

SHOOT ANYTHING THAT MOVES!

John Smith grabs a rifle too. Twenty five Green Berets climb up into the cab,

onto the back, or onto the top of the truck.

INT. CAB – WRECKER

Sam holds up his rifle with its grenade launcher. Through the windshield of

the cab sits the door to the arena. The Special Forces Soldier behind the

wheel looks at Sam.

SAM

Let’s go.

The Green Beret jams his foot down on the gas, driving straight at the

hydraulic door.

INT. AIRLOCK – “SECTOR C”

FILMEDIN SLOW MOTIN: The Wrecker battering rams the door, ripping it asunder

into a hulk of metal. The vehicle smashes on through into the Arena. The

Special Forces troops hang on.

INT. ARENA – SECTOR “C”

The truck stops. The twenty five Green Berets hit the ground with their guns

at ready. Sam Smith hoists his machine gun. His squad of Special Forces

holds their hi-tech weaponry at ready. Sweat beading his features, Sam looks

at the soldiers as they face...

Nothing.

No Aliens. The reminants of the cocoons hang ruptured and empty.

SAM

What the fuck...?

The Soldiers walk through the hanging, dangling shorn sections of white

cocoon. Blood and slime drips off the ironlike cotton substance. There are

pieces of bones and sections of uniform here and there. Sam keeps his gun by

his face.

Then they see it.

There is a massive hole in the wall. DOLLY IN on Sam s the horrified

realization melts his face.

SAM

Oh no.

INT. ZERO GRAVITY CHAMBER – SECTOR “C”

A set of panties float in the air.

Two naked bodies, slick with sweat, floating and thrusting in the anti-gravity

room. Russ massages Terrys breasts, fingering her hard nipples, her body

wrapped around his. As they float in the room, he turns her over and puts his

head between her legs. She wraps her soft thighs around his face.

LAUREN

OH YES!

She goes down on him too, her head bobbing between his legs.

RUSS

C’MON BABY OH JEESUU--!

Her legs are wrap around his back and plunges into her, pressing her face to

his as their tongues meet, their two perspiration slick bodies revolving

upside down, suspended in zero gravity, stars and space seen through the

window of the room.

LAUREN

OH! UH-HUH!

He slides out of her and turns her over in the weightless space, taking her

from behind his hands squeezing her flushed, jiggling tits at he slams into

her, her wide, soft buttocks slapping his waist.

LAURIE

BABY IT FEELS SSOOO GOOO--!

OOOOHHHHYYEEEEEESSSSS!!!

RUSS

OH YEAH OHYEAH!!!

Russ turns her over as they both about to come. She straddles him and they

thrust desperately, revolving in the air, their bodies shivering in orgasm.

He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth.

She throws her head back and cries out.

He opens his eyes and his guts come out his mouth. The huge, thick, slimy

teal rips through his torso and smashes out Laurens chest, taking her ribcage,

intestines and left tit with it. Their eyes are rolled up in their sockets

and the mutilated corpses are flung off the tail.

Three Aliens crawl through the floating blood and guts towards the airlock

door. More follow. An armoured slew of crawling monsters.

INT. ARENA – SECTOR “C”

Sam holds his machine gun up. He looks at all the other sweaty, perspiring

faces in the warehouse room.

SAM

Let’s get out of here.

They begin to retreat. Walking through the hanging shreds of cocoon, they hear

the SCUTTLING SONDS coming from below them, from above them, from either side

of them.

JOHN

They’re in the walls.

SAM

Nice ‘n easy.

The thirty Green Berets move through the flashing red light of the Arena.

The SIREN bleats in their ears.

SERGEANT CHONG

What do we do, sir?

SAM

We get the fuck out of here is what we do.

Their feet red through the guts and slime in pools on the floor

COLONEL SINCLAIR

H-heeelllpp m-meee. P-please...

Sam and the rest turn to look. A horrible halfway transformed Colonel

Sinclair is all sewn up in cocoon substance, his arms and legs molted mostly

away. He realizes he is turning into one of those things. His face is torn

as much with terror as hideous agony.

COLONEL SINCLAIR

K-kkk---iiilll mmmmeeeee---

Mmmmuuuuhhhnnnneeerrruuuff

Ggggggoooooo.......!

John Smith hits him with a douse of flame from the flamethrower blowtorch.

The charred crisped remains of the Colonel slowly smolder in the blackened,

burning cocoon.

SAM

Let’s get out of here.

The SCUTTLING SOUNDS are everywhere. The Green Berets move through the door.

INT. MAIN AREA – SECTOR “C”

The men move into the huge, evacuated Science military area. TRACKING SHOT as

they pass the glass offices and laboratories. They hold their flame throwers

machine guns and grenade launchers. Their eyes move back and forth in the

low, sinister flashing red emergency light.

SAM

Where the fuck are they?

CCCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHHHNNNNNNNKKKKKK!!!

Up from the floor, they come.

Erupted through the floor gratings like some armoured vegetation, the Aliens

burst up, their claws and snouts tearing into the Special Forces troops like

red meat.

SSMMMMMMMMMMASSSSSSSSHHHHH!!!!

Through the walls and down from the ceilings they drop. Like the room became

alive with Aliens, the contagion attacks the Green Berets and starts tearing

them to pieces. Blood sprays everywhere. Limbs fly. Soldiers OPEN FIRE but

the creatures are everywhere and it is difficult to aim. John grabs Sam and

they clamber through the airlock into the next airlock. Sergeant Chong holds

his machine gun in one arm, SHOOTING the Aliens to smithereens as he helps the

rest of his Soldiers into the next airlock. They almost all get through as

the airlock door HISSES shut.

SAM

MOVE IT!!! THERE’S TOO MANY!!!

INTO THE AIRLOCK!!! MOVE!!

INT. AIRLOCK #2 – SECTOR “C”

The soldiers are now running for it. They reach the next airlock door and

knock it open. Sergeant Chong chomps his pipe. He pushes John and Sam

through then shoves most of the men through after them.

SERGEANT CHONG

C’MON! C’MON! GO! GO!

Then they hear the first boom.

The metal begins to buckle on the door.

BOOM. BOOOM. BOOOM.

Sergeant Chong shoves John, Sam, and the others through the airlock door. The

door hisses shut. The Special Forces officer hoists his machine gun and

grenade launcher and raises it at the door. The ten other Green Berets hunger

down, engaging their grenade bolts, raising their machine guns and rifles and

high-caliber handguns, some of them dropping to one knee.

Cocking the grenade engage bolt on his rifle, the Sergeant chomps on his pipe.

SERGEANT CHONG

Alright girls, lets earn our pay.

BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOM!

The other airlock door is caving in, bending inward. A huge hole tears in it.

Fifteen armoured Aliens come squeezing, scrambling through caved in door.

The creatures come scuttling at them through the darkness like a subway train.

The Jap Sarge pulls the trigger. All the soldiers do. Grenades, machine gun

tracers, and shotguns blasts strobe the hallway.

BAKAKAKAKAKAKABABABABABAKKKKKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!

SPPPPRRRRAAAAAATTTTTZZZZ!

The first flank of Aliens disintegrates in a hideous insectile ROAR of agony,

clouds of smoke and eruptions of acid.

The soldiers uncover their faces.

Then they see the SIZZLING SMOKE of the acid splattering the thick metal walls

of the airlock. It is eating its way through the wall in bubbling haste.

The pipe drops from the Sergeants mouth.

SERGEANT CHONG

Holy shit.

The Green Berets runs for the airlock door.

A red warning sign flashes on a ceiling monitor. A KLAXON HONKS. It reads,

‘Hull BREACHED”.

A huge hole melts in the wall. Space black and empty through the hole.

The special Forces team explode in showers of meat, blood, intestines, teeth,

brains, and skull tissue as their inside body pressure blows them to bits.

DOLLY IN on the window to the airlock, dripping with blood, as Sam, John, and

the other Green Berets look away.

EXT. SULACO SPACE STATION

Through the melted hole in the side of the space station drifts a viscous

slick of human blood, bone, and entrails, floating like a river into space.

INT AIRLOCK #3 – SECTOR “C”

The people star through the window, smeared and dripping red. John turns to

Sam.

SAM

Poor old Chong.

JOHN

I-I hope that was all of them.

Sam swallows He points through the window.

SAM

Dad. Dad...look.

They all look.

JOHN

Oh my God.

There are more Aliens, many, many more. They are crawling through the melted

hole in the airlock, climbing out onto the outside of the ship.

EXT. SULACO SPACE STATION

Up the fifty story side of the massive station in space, framed against the

stars and planets in the back void, fifteen Aliens climb out of the hole in

the side of the ship. They slowly clamber up the metal plating in a steady

flank...

For the glass dome of North Star.

INT. WEAPONS ROOM – SECTOR “C”

Spacesuits, helmets, all forms of weapons.

Sam, John, and thirty Green Berets.

They climb into the space suits. They screw on the helmet. They grab

grappling lines and climbing equipment from the construction supply area.

Cartridges are slammed into the rifle breeches. Grenades are shoved in bags.

Heavy combat knives are slid into belts.

Sam looks at the rest, faces sweating inside clear helmet visors.

SAM

Let’s go.

INT. AIRLOCK #1 – SECTOR “C”

The DOOR HISSES open.

Thirty Special Forces stand like an army of astronauts, holding their guns and

grappling hooks. Space flows through the abattoir of a room. Sam leads the

men, their space boots stepping through the puddles of human remains on the

floor to the huge, melted breach in the hull. Sam climbs outside the ship.

The rest of the men follow, attaching lines to each other.

EXT. SULACO SPACE STATION – SPACE

The massive unfinished structure of the space station exterior.

Crawling along the prefab skin of the ship are fifteen Aliens, like huge,

armoured insects.

The Special Forces team in the space suits climb through the hole in the ship.

Like mountain climbers, they are all attached to a line. They open up with

their machine guns.

One of the Aliens explodes in floating streams of acids. It floats off the

ship. One of the soldiers is hit by a drop of the acid. He doesn’t see it

burn through the suit. There is a hole.

The soldier explodes in his suit, his facemask splattering brains.

Another Alien grabs a soldier, it’s jackhammer jaws punching the mans face in

through the helmet of his spacesuit. Blood floats in space. Another soldier

turns his flame thrower on the Alien and the creature loses its grip on the

ship, spinning away in a torch of flame.

Twenty five Special Forces clamber up the space scarred metal sheeting of the

ship. The flank of Aliens have now turne3d, they attack the Green Berets,

climbing back down the side of the ship. Sam lets loose with silent blasts of

machine gun fire, sending a grenade into the guts of one of the beasts.

The Aliens fall off the side of the ship and go floating around in space.

A few of the space suited Soldiers slip and many of the people in the tow line

are now floating off the side of the space station.

Like a space walk, the Soldiers hang in the void, machine gunning and

shotgunning the floating Aliens. The creatures explode in floating seas of

acid. Sam has to tug the men on the line back towards the ship before the

acid floats to them.

Roachlike, the armoured creatures continue to climb towards the dome of North

Star. Using grappling hooks, the Green Berets keep climbing the thirty

stories up the side of the ship. A great planet fills one side of the sky,

it’s double moon casting the scene in unearthly light.

The Aliens crawl through a vent at the top of the ship. One by one, ten of

the creatures squeeze through the hole, flowing like an army of ants back into

the ship.

Sam and John look at each other, faces registering total terror through their

facemasks. They climb harder, the twenty space suited soldiers on the line

carrying some emptied, bloodied suits with them as they use their grappling

hooks to make it up the side of the ship.

The Aliens are gone.

EXT. NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Stars twinkle.

The small town sleeps.

EXT. ELEVATOR – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

Headlights up the road.

A Military Transport loaded with SOLDIERS from the compound pulls up in front

of the elevator doors. The men climb out of the truck and wait by the lift.

CAPTAIN WILKES

Let’s get down there and find out

what the hells going on.

The elevator door opens...

The soldiers see the teeth.

INT. VENT – SPACE STATION

Sam, John, and the twenty space suited Green Berets crawl on all fours through

the vent. They hold their guns at ready, following the trail of slime. The

elevator shaft lies dead ahead. Sam regards his father, face soaked with

sweat in his helmet mask.

SAM

They’re up there.

JOHN

Let’s hurry. God, lets hurry.

The Special Forces team scrambles through the vent.

EXT. MAIN STREET – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

By the light of the moons...

Shadows, big and eerie, dart across the front of the Grocery Store and the

Hardware store. Then nothing moves.

EXT. GRAIN ELEVATOR – NORTH STAR – NIGHT

The huge industrial stora