Alien Harvest

So, is it bogus? Follow this link and decide for yourself.

The character of Debbie seems consistent with what Ridley Scott
has said so far.
What we have here certainly appears different to this.


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.