Alien vs. Predator Page #2

sophisticated equipment recessed into it. Hatches lead off to various parts

of the ship; we see BROKEN TUSK carry his ALIEN head off down one of them.

INT. PREDATOR MOTHERSHIP - VIEWING GALLERY

The gallery seems to be more mechanical than the rest of the ship. BROKEN

TUSK enters, pausing next to a kind of readout device: a cylindrical tube

containing a substance similar to mercury which constantly changes it's mass

into shapes and alien text. He peers over the protective railing.

WHAT HE SEES is magnificent: a captive QUEEN ALIEN, the nucleus of the ALIEN

society, fed by giant intravenous pipes. Each of it's limbs is tethered by

restraining clamps preventing any movement. To the rear, it's giant egg-sac

glows and throbs, suspended by a jury-rigged sling. A SCANNING MECHANISM

hangs above the EGGS the QUEEN lays, seemingly defying gravity. As each EGG

is scanned by a blue triangular beam - similar to a PREDATOR gun-sight - it

becomes translucent, giving us a view of the pulsing FACEHUGGER inside. This

done, a manipulator are carefully loads several eggs onto a pallet, which

then sinks into a hatchway in the floor. It's an assembly-line of almost

frightening mechanical efficiency.

EXT. SPACE

We see a pod ejected from the Mothership, rocketing away from the planet into

deep space. The inference is obvious; the PREDATORS are seeding worlds with

ALIENS to hunt.

INT. PREDATOR MOTHERSHIP - VIEWING GALLERY

The blue beam slides across one of the eggs, and suddenly changes to red,

BEEPING rapidly. BROKEN TUSK sees the flowing display-tank alter from a

rotating simulation of an ALIEN WARRIOR skull to a representation of a

QUEEN's head. The manipulator arm swiftly grasps the EGG in question and

moves it over to a protrusion on the floor. The causes the QUEEN to go

berserk, straining at her bonds and SHRIEKING ferociously. She's obviously

been through this before and knows what's about to happen. The protrusion

splits open, spilling out an intense white light: an energy-filled blast

furnace. The manipulator claw opens, the EGG drops in, and is no more.

INT. PREDATOR MOTHERSHIP - LIVING QUARTERS

An orange light plays across a wall of skulls, casting dark shadows into

long-empty orbs. BROKEN TUSK sprawls lizard-like across a flat slab of rock

in the center of the room, inspecting his formidable arsenal of weaponry.

Satisfied, he reaches out to run a finger across the jaw of his ALIEN trophy

in an almost-erotic gesture. He regards it for a long moment as if coming

to a decision of some kind, before finally getting to his feet.

INT. PREDATOR MOTHERSHIP - VIEWING GALLERY

The lights in the gallery are dimmer when BROKEN TUSK enters. He watches the

cherry-red beam of the gliding SCANNING MECHANISM lock onto one of the EGGS,

then runs his hand in sequence over the control board. The manipulator arm

swings over, seizing the egg and loading it onto a waiting pallet.

BROKEN TUSK points his finger at the QUEEN and makes a guttural CLICKING

SOUND from deep in his throat. The effect is not unlike that of a child

firing an imaginary gun. As if reading BROKEN TOOTH's thoughts, the QUEEN

lifts her crested head upwards and emits a venomous HISS of contempt.

EXT. SPACE

In CENTER FRAME, the planet sits still and green, awash with nebulous clouds.

A hulking METAL FORM ROLLS RIGHT-TO-LEFT across our view, sunlight glinting

from it's surface. It's a rectangular satellite-construction comprised of

hundreds of communication dishes in a latticework of steel tubing. We hear

FILTERED HUMAN VOICES O.S. Subspace chatter.

EXT. RYUSHI STATION - MIDDAY

Imagine a world where every square mile is covered by a canopy of treetop

foliage, and you've just drawn yourself a picture of the planet Ryushi.

Nestled amongst this lush rainforest is the Yutani-Templin Communications

Relay Station. Several inverted-'U'-shaped suspension cranes painted bright

yellow look down over a collection of preassembled buildings and roadways

raised above the swamp on platforms, much like a truncated oil-rig. A

navigation beacon flashes intermittently from a tall gantry tower above,

while dominating the view is the sloping face of a communications array

several storeyes high. Off to one side of the platform is a gigantic many-

wheeled haulage vehicle. A flock of bird-like creatures fly past.

INT. RYUSHI STATION - COMMAND CENTER

We're in the dark womb of a split-level command center alive with clusters

of video readouts, somewhat reminiscent of a futuristic air-traffic control

tower. On the upper tier, a large circular holo-display currently projects

an image of the satellite we just saw. Thin trailers of paper flutter gently

in the current coming from the air conditioning ducks, though beads of sweat

still dot the foreheads of the people manning the consoled here. We move in

on CASSIE DOLLANDER and ROB PARSONS, two monitoring technicians occupying a

control bank. CASSIE listens carefully to something on her headset.

CASSIE:

Ah, negative on that request commercial

freighter 'Nan-Shan'. I've already got

an inbound on that approach pending a

beacon-fix. Hold on my mark until I get

back with some confirmation. Rimward

Traffic Control out.

She thumbs a button and leans over to PARSONS.

CASSIE (CONT'D)

How's it looking?

PARSONS worriedly shakes his head.

PARSONS:

That's the second time I ran it, and it

still reads the same.

CASSIE:

Better tell the boss.

PARSONS pulls out a coin.

PARSONS:

Toss you for it.

INT. RYUSHI STATION - EXECUTIVE OFFICE

HIROKO NOGUCHI is sweating heavily, a black forelock of hair falling across

her Oriental features. Her eyes flicker warily from side-to-side as she

holds the smooth length of the sword before her, trying to assess from where

the next attack will come. She doesn't have to wait long; two NINJA

SWORDSMEN drop to the floor in front of her, striking without hesitation.

She expertly avoid the blows, parrying relentlessly. A persistent TONE

begins to intrude O.S., like a telephone RINGING. She tries to ignore it,

but her concentration is clearly broken. A THIRD SWORDSMAN appears from out

of nowhere, his sword SWISHING towards her chest. The blade plunges deep

into her stomach, emerging from her back. She glances down in annoyed

disbelief.

HIROKO:

F***! Holo off.

The SWORDSMEN immediately flicker and disappear. She sheathes the sword with

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