Alien: Resurrection Page #5

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He switches off.

RANE:

Wichita stomp?

ELGYN:

I guarantee that boy's. Never seen the inside of a woman.

(to Hillard)

Bring us in on three-oh descent, ride the parallel.

HILLARD:

Darlin', it's done.

ELGYN:

Don't cut thrust till six hundred meters. Give em a little fright.

He puts his hand on her shoulder, runs it up along her cheek as he

exits.

They're more than friends.

He moves through a hallway, sticks his head in a cubicle.

ELGYN:

Christie! St Just! Rise and shine. We're docking.

He proceeds into:

INT. CARGO BAY - CONTINUOUS

It's the largest space in this boat, two stories high. Taking up most

of the space are two HARVESTERS, big rusty hovering threshers roughly

the size of winnebagos.

As Elgyn enters, we CRANE UP to reveal ANNALEE-CALL working atop one of

them.

She's young, tough -- at home with this motley bunch despite her youth

and prettiness.

ELGYN:

Call! CALL!

The music is louder here -- it's blasting from a box in the corner.

Elgyn switches it off.

ELGYN:

Call!

CALL:

What?

ELGYN:

We're docking! Are the cargo trucks secured?

CALL:

I checked 'em an hour ago.

ELGYN:

I don't want em so much as rattled. Any leakage, I take it out of your

hide.

CALL:

Trust me, boss.

ELGYN (laughs)

Not my style.

He leans down, looks under the thresher. Lying on a gurneylike steel

dolly, working under the machine, is VRIESS, chie mechanic. Late

forties, in pretty good shape considering he's got no legs.

ELGYN:

How's it looking?

VRIESS It's never gonna be pretty. but she'll fly. The other one's a

total f***ing write-off.

ELGYN:

You'll make it good.

VRIESS:

Don't be so sure.

(calls out) Call! Adjust the generator plugs!

ELGYN (straightening up)

They just gotta run, Vriess. They don't gotta run far.

He exits.

CUT TO:
INT. HALL CONTINTJOUS

CHRISTIE is up and mostly dressed. He is black, very large, and has

distinctly military bearing. He speaks with quiet, don't-f***-with-me

authority.

CHRISTIE:

What's our status?

ELGYN:

We're coming in. Time to enjoy a little of the general's hospitality.

ST JUST:

Oh great. Army food..

ST JUST ("San-Jhoost") is slim, Asian -- and the epitome of cool.

Moves quickly and silently, a sly grin playing about lips. He is

strapping a contraption to his forearm. It resembles a deringer

holder, but a very complex one.

ELGYN:
We could use a rest, till the heat's off and Vriess can get

those harvesters on their feet.

This'll keep us for a couple of days, assuming the natives are

friendly.

CHRISTIE:

We expecting any trouble?

ELGYN:

From Perez? I doubt it. Still, let's be ever vigilant.

CUT TO:
INT. CARGO BAY CONTNIUOUS

ANGLE:
VRIESS working intently, the extremely nasty blades of the

thresher inches above his head.

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