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Niki Wurster Visit our Movie Scripts Page screenplay 451: http://www.geocities.com/~screenplay451/ Mao Guangqin 2 0 2000-01-23T11:42:00Z 2000-01-23T11:42:00Z 27 19920 113548 Pumpkin Software 946 227 139444 9.2504 21 0 0 Alien³
The First Commando scrambles after him.
INT. CARGO LOCK
The Leader writhes on the deck beside the main cargo lock. First Commando rushes in, crouches beside him, takes careful two-handed aim with her sidearm – she FIRES, attempting to kill the face-hugger without hitting the Leader. The face-hugger EXPLODES in a gout of acid; ragged holes burn through the side of his helmet. First Commando frantically works the lock controls.
As the inner lock opens, she shoves the leader over the edge with
her foot.
EXT. SULACO
Helmetless, headless, trailing a cloud of blood and acid, the Leader tumbles through space.
INT. CARGO LOCK
Eyes of the First Commando through her faceplate. Beat. Something moves, behind her. She spins, bringing up her gun. Backlit in the entrance to the vault, a black, multi-armed figure. The beam from her lamp finds it – the Second Commando, with Bishop in his arms.
DISSOLVE TO:
IN DEEP SPACE – VARIOUS ANGLES
A station the size of a small moon, and growing; unfinished sections of hull are open to vacuum. A vast, irregular structure, the result of the shifting goals of successive administrations.
MOVE IN on hundreds of windows – most of them dark. A light comes on in one
of the windows.
A phone is RINGING. The cubicle, terminally sloppy, resembles the nest of a high-tech
hamster, not much larger than a berth of a train. The walls are plastered with
a wistful collage of posters, ads, photos torn from magazines: beaches, desert,
the Grand Canyon, redwoods, blue sky – a hedge against claustrophobia and the
emptiness of space.
