Alien 5 käsikirjoitus?

LIEN 5 OPENING SEQUENCE?



   SPACE

   A backdrop of stars, traces of colorful galaxies.

   INTO FRAME AS WE MOVE BACK: A BEACON. Old, scarred. One
   side crumpled from an explosion. Weyland-Yutani emblon
   visible. The beacon's navigation light blinks erratically.

   BACK FURTHER revealing an astronaut with a HANDHELD JETPACK
   nearing the beacon. A TETHER snakes out behind the figure.

   CONTINUING BACK shows the tether attached to a SPACESHIP
   built like a giant Swiss army knife -- a repair ship. On
   one side of the ship: B42-GOV/WY-FRONTIER 'BERTHA'. Inside
   the open cargo bay sits a NEW BEACON, this one a sleeker
   model than the one outside. Its nav light strobes eagerly.

   INT. BERTHA

   CONRAD, mid-20s, wearing Weyland-Yutani overalls, floats
   weightless and inverted at the cabin ceiling. He retrieves
   a thick manual from a compartment then kicks off toward the
   main viewscreen, where TIBBS, fat and in his 50s, is buckled
   into a pilot chair. Tibbs sucks purple mush through the
   straw of a food container. His straining t-shirt reads: W-
   Y LITTLE LEAGUE - GO COLTS GO! Conrad slips a headset on.
   They watch the astronaut on the screen.

   THE BEACON

   DEBBIE, 20-ish and sassy, fires the jetpack to align herself
   with the beacon. She grabs a hand hold, climbs over to a
   control box, and attaches a tether from her suit harness to
   part of the beacon.

         DEBBIE
      That's it, we're hitched.

         CONRAD (V.O.)
      Can I kiss the bride?

         DEBBIE
      No, but you can kiss my ass.

   INT. BERTHA

         CONRAD
      It's a deal. Listen, that damaged
      panel looks unstable. Skip the
      external and go straight for
      diagnostics, okay?

         DEBBIE (V.O.)
      You're the boss, Conrad.

         TIBBS
       (to Debbie; mouth full)
      Ah, technically I'm the boss.
      I've got twenty years with the
      company; Conrad's got six months
      and an uncle in personnel.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie uses a small tool to pop open the panel. Buttons, a
   screen, and two large switch-breakers inside. She thumbs
   the two switches. Buttons light up. The screen flutters
   to life with: AUXILLARY POWER ON / MAX 50 MINUTES FULL LOAD
   / COMMAND? The screen glitches intermittently.

         DEBBIE
      The pile is down. Backup power
      seems okay, though.

         CONRAD (V.O.)
      Patch in a filter just in case.

   She takes a small electronic unit from her utility belt.
   In her other hand she uses a gun-shaped tool to squirt some
   sticky goop on the back on the unit, which she jams onto
   the rim of the control panel. She hooks it up between the
   main tether and the control panel.

         DEBBIE
      All set. You should have a clean
      feed now.

   The screen flashes through some menus, then fills with a
   stream of data.

   INT. BERTHA

   Still eating, Tibbs watches a nearby monitor blur with data.

         TIBBS
      That's affirmative.

   Tibbs and Conrad work the ship computers.

         DEBBIE (V.O.)
      What's the verdict? Do we salvage?

         CONRAD
       (scanning readouts)
      This one's pretty much brain dead.

         DEBBIE (V.O.)
      Don't go all technical on me.

         TIBBS
      The analysis shows multiple
      fractures in the substructure.
      Too risky to bring it onboard for
      a stripdown so we'll just go with
      standard procedure and deep-six
      it.

   THE BEACON - INTERCUT

         DEBBIE
      So was that a yes or a no?

         CONRAD
      Ah, Debbie, I believe that was a
      negative.

         DEBBIE
      Okey-dokey. So how do we blow it?

         CONRAD
      See that big red button labeled
      "self-destruct"?

         DEBBIE
       (looking hard)
      I don't see it.

         TIBBS
      That's because there isn't one.
      Young lady, you really should have
      paid attention during basic
      training. We prime the reactor
      for detonation from here. Standby.
      Conrad, give me the core activation
      string.

   Conrad consults the manual. On the cover: WEYLAND YUTANI /
   FRONTIER DIV. / ADVANCED WARNING SYSTEMS / CLASSIFIED B2.

         CONRAD
       (from manual)
      Delta Charlie dash one seven zero.

         TIBBS
       (typing)
      D-C-one-seven-zero. Confirmed.

   The beacon's control screen now reads: EVENT DELAY (MINUTES)?

         DEBBIE
      It's showing some kind of timer.

         CONRAD
       (bouncing it off Tibbs)
      Ten minutes to get her back and
      unsuited, ten minutes to move to a
      safe distance. Say fifteen minutes
      contingency. Thirty-five?

         TIBBS
      Thirty-five minutes is ample.
       (he types)

         CONRAD
      Return to deploy the new beacon,
      then dinner and a quick game of
      scrabble -- we'll be in hyper-sleep
      and headed for home within a couple
      hours. Outstanding.

   Debbie watches the screen shuffle through menus. A countdown
   appears: 35 MINUTES TO POWER CORE IGNITION.

         DEBBIE
      Warm up my slippers. I'm on my
      way.

   INT. BERTHA

   An alarm sounds. The two men jump to the controls.

         CONRAD
      Proximity alert. Picking up a
      huge neutrino echo. Somebody's
      dropping out of L-space right on
      top of us.

         TIBBS
      Nobody should be out this far ...

         CONRAD
      There's a shitload of matter influx.
      Too much for just one ship. Looks
      more like a fucking planet!

         TIBBS
      Debbie! You copy that? We've got
      L-space activity! Hold on!

   SPACE

   A portal opens, squeezing into normal space. A wall of
   light. Blinding. Debbie cringes in the beacon's shadow.
   Conrad and Tibbs shield their eyes. Then ... all light
   gets sucked back to its pinhole origin. Where there was
   nothing is now a vast fleet of alien spacecraft. Twenty in
   all. Several makes and sizes, but all follow the same basic
   design. We've seen their type before... on LV-421 -- the
   derelict spacecraft with its crop of deadly facehuggers.

   A red-blue energy wave ripples outward from the fleet. The
   shockwave is brutal but losing energy fast as it dissipates.

   INT. BERTHA

   The main viewscreen splits into windows showing the beacon,
   the energy wave, and a rapid visual scan of the alien fleet.
   In that window the computer reports: SCAN COMPLETE /
   IDENTIFICATION FAILED ON MULTIPLE UNKNOWN OBJECTS, STRUCTURE
   AND COMPOSITION UNKNOWN / LIFEFORMS DETECTED, SPECIES
   UNKNOWN.

         CONRAD
      Fuckers didn't even knock first.

         TIBBS
      Oh Christ. Here comes the Phase
      shift aftershock.

         CONRAD
      Debbie! Use the beacon as your
      shield. Get behind the beacon!

   THE BEACON

   Debbie sees the approaching shockwave and clambers sideways
   to get behind the beacon.

   INT. BERTHA

   The blastwave hits them. It buffets the ship for a few
   seconds. Sends objects cascading through the weightless
   cabin. Scrambles all electronics. Systems fail. No power.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie hugs the beacon as it goes tumbling. It reaches the
   end of the tether and jerks tight, nearly throwing Debbie
   off. The momentum sends Bertha and the beacon spinning
   around each other in dizzying circles.

   Debbie regains her hold. Stars whirl past. She looks at
   the control screen. Dead. All lights off.

         DEBBIE
      Bertha, Bertha, you copy? The
      beacon just lost backup!

   INT. BERTHA

   Tibbs and Conrad recover from the impact, scan the computers.

         CONRAD
      The blastwave fritzed our power
      too.

         TIBBS
      Whoever that is out there, it's
      not us. And they're headed this
      way.

         CONRAD
      Debbie, get back in here now!

   Tibbs rips off panels and franticly examines wiring and
   componentry. Conrad watches Debbie's image on screen.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie can't detach the tether. The blastwave has twisted
   the catch, snagging it in the hook. She yanks at it but it
   won't budge.

         DEBBIE
      Damn this mainline, Conrad, it's
      stuck!

         CONRAD (V.O.)
      C'mon, Deb, detach and get your
      ass in here on the double.

   She pauses as the beacon suddenly stutters back to life.
   The nav light flickers on, the control panel lights up, and
   the screen returns with the countdown timer. But there's a
   difference that freezes Debbie's blood in her veins: the
   timer reads: 4 MIN 50 SEC TO REACTOR IGNITION (NO RECOURSE).

   INT. BERTHA

         DEBBIE (O.S.)
      Oh shit. The power's back but now
      the timer is down to four minutes!

         TIBBS
      What? Four minutes to detonation?

         CONRAD
      No power, we're tied to a bomb,
      and we're surrounded by aliens.
      This was not in my fucking contract!

         TIBBS
       (working frantically)
      Check the fineprint.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie stabs at keys on the beacon's control panel. She
   gives up and pounds it with her fist in frustration.

         DEBBIE
      Cancel the self-destruct order!
      Tibbs, transmit the code now!

   INT. BERTHA

         TIBBS
      Negative. It's too late for that.
      There's no failsafe under five
      minutes. No recourse. We can't
      stop it.

         CONRAD
       (thinking fast)
      Listen to me, Debbie. Cut the
      mainline. Use your suit laser.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie presses a switch on her glove. A pencil-sized laser
   extends over her index finger. She points it at the tether
   linking her and the beacon, activates it with her thumb. A
   narrow beam starts biting into the thick cable. The beam
   cuts out, flickers, cuts out again, returns.

         DEBBIE
      Goddammit!

   INT. BERTHA

   The Bertha's power returns. All systems back online. Tibbs
   whoops and leaps into the pilot's chair. He begins
   programming the nav computer.

         CONRAD
      Deb, the ship's back online. We
      need to put some space between us
      and that fucking beacon!

         TIBBS
      How much time?

         DEBBIE (O.S.)
      Three minutes. Repeat, three
      minutes.

   Tibbs powers up the engines.

   EXT. BERTHA

   The ship stabilises, no longer spinning, and begins
   accelerating smoothly away.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie clings on as the beacon whips around and gets towed
   behind Bertha.

         DEBBIE
      Hey, what the...?

   INT. BERTHA

         CONRAD
      Tibbs! What are you doing?

         TIBBS
      I'm getting us the hell away from
      that alien fleet. It's no
      coincidence they appear where a
      recon beacon is out of action.
      They probably disabled it in
      advance.

         CONRAD
      We don't know that. They could be
      friendly!

         TIBBS
      Sure, maybe they're just out here
      for a picnic.

   Tibbs stares Conrad down, then secretly hits a console
   button.

   EXT. BERTHA

   The cargo bay doors begin to close.

   CLOSE ON DOORS as they scissor shut, severing the tether
   line. Internal wiring sparks.

   The beacon is left stranded as the ship accelerates away.

   THE BEACON

   Debbie watches the ship leaving. She takes a deep breath
   before turning back to the job at hand. One minute thirty
   left on the timer.

         DEBBIE
       (shaky)
      Well, guys, the bad news is I won't
      be joining you for dinner...

   INT. BERTHA - INTERCUT

         CONRAD
      Shit! SHIT! Tibbs, we lost Debbie!
      Turn the ship back!

         TIBBS
      Damn you, there's no time! We'll
      all die. I'm sorry, Debbie.

         CONRAD
      Fuck sorry -- turn back now!

         DEBBIE
      No! Conrad, it's okay. You guys
      can make it. Thanks to me, I might
      add. As usual a woman saves the
      day.

         CONRAD
       (helpless)
      You're one in a million, Debbie.

         DEBBIE
       (works the faulty laser)
      Damn straight. I'm smart as well
      as good-looking. And let's not
      forget my wonderful fucking
      personality.

         CONRAD
      I won't forget.

         TIBBS
      I'm taking the ship to L-space.
      We'll have entry speed in one
      minute.

         DEBBIE
      I agree with Tibbs -- this is some
      kind of invasion...

   The laser has cut most of the way through the tether joining
   Debbie to the beacon. She switches off the laser, grabs
   her jetpack and the glue gun, and squirts a couple of big
   dollops of the sticky resin on the front of the jetpack.
   Then she sticks the jetpack to the beacon. Resumes cutting
   the tether. The timer dips below one minute.

         DEBBIE
      You're kind of sweet on me, aren't
      you, Conrad.

         CONRAD
       (choking up)
      I ... yeah, I guess so.

         DEBBIE
      Too bad, sweetheart, because I
      also happen to be fantastic in
      bed.

         CONRAD
       (smiling sadly)
      I was counting on it.

   The tether between Debbie and the beacon severs. She slaps
   a switch on the jetpack -- the rockets fire full on, blasting
   her in a backward somersault as the beacon launches away
   from her, toward the alien fleet.

         DEBBIE
      Yeee-hah! Go baby go! Go tell em
      not to fuck with me!

   INT. BERTHA

   Tibbs is preoccupied with getting the ship into L-space.
   Conrad is numb. He watches Debbie's plight on the
   viewscreen.

         CONRAD
      Hey! She cut herself free! And
      she did something to the beacon.
      It's headed for the fleet.

         TIBBS
      Shit. We just fired the first
      shot. If they were friendly they
      won't be now.

         CONRAD
      Wait. The beacon...

   DEBBIE

   Tumbles slowly through space. At least she's alive. She
   tries to keep watching the beacon as it diminishes... then
   grows larger -- the beacon is COMING BACK in her direction!
   The jetpack has put it in a loop!

         DEBBIE
       (wearily)
      Yeah, whatever ...

   THE BEACON

   Five seconds left on the counter. It's going to pass within
   100 metres of Debbie ...

   THE ALIEN FLEET

   Like a searchlight, a continuous beam shoots from one of
   the big ships.

   THE BEACON

   The beam surrounds the beacon in a cocoon of energy. The
   timer reaches zero. Debbie watches in awe. The powerful
   explosion is contained within. The beam ceases.

   THE ALIEN FLEET

   A second beam shoots out from the same alien craft.

   DEBBIE

   Is caught by the beam, all motion arrested. The beam begins
   to pull her toward the big alien craft.

         CONRAD (V.O.)
      Debbie? Debbie?

         DEBBIE
      I'm alive. I'm being pulled back
      to their ship. Guess they want to
      meet me.
       (fear in her voice now)
      Can't blame em, I'm such a fine
      specimen of womanhood ...

   INT. BERTHA

   Conrad and Tibbs are strapped into the pilot chairs. They
   exchange a horrified look: what will the aliens do with
   her?

   THE ALIEN FLEET

   A smaller vessel fires its weapons.

   DEBBIE

   Watches the missiles streak past her.

         DEBBIE
      Conrad!

   INT. BERTHA

         TIBBS
      Almost ready...

   An alarm SHRIEKS. CLOSE ON A MONITOR which reads: THREAT
   ALERT! EMERGENCY MEMORY DUMP -- UPLOADING TO NETWORK ...

         CONRAD
      Incoming fire! Punch it now!

         TIBBS
      L-drive online--

   EXT. BERTHA

   Too late. The missiles obliterate the Bertha.

   DEBBIE

   Is almost at the alien vessel. She witnesses the distant
   explosion, then disappears through an access port underneath
   the ship.