Searchlights sweep the evening-sky behind a giant edifice of carved, golden letters. 20th Century Fox.
Fade to Black.
A Brandywine Production
A James Cameron Film
Sigourney Weaver
Michael Biehn
Paul Reiser
Against black, five tall hazy blue shapes appear.
Lance Henriksen
Carrie Henn
[FAST] Bill Paxton. William Hope. Rico Ross. Al Matthews.
The five shapes resolve into the word "ALIENS".
The letter "I" blazes with light, blotting out the screen.
Deep space. Stars glitter, distant and cold.
Music composed by James Horner.
Against a hazy blue cloud of stellar gas, a tiny speck of light.
Executive Producers Gordon Carroll, David Giler and Walter Hill.
The speck of light drifts closer, a flattened blunt arrow. The shuttle Narcissus.
Story by James Cameron and David Giler and Walter Hill. Based on Characters created by Dan O'Bannon and Ronald Shusett.
Screenplay by James Cameron. Produced by Gale Anne Hurd.
Directed by James Cameron
No running lights show on the Narcissus, and the engines are dead.
Inside, lit by cold blue light, the shadowy, functional interior of the shuttle.
The surfaces glitter with frost.
Faint lights on a console are reflected in the bowl-like visor of a discarded space helmet.
A long cylinder, with a frost-encrusted transparent casing, reveals a woman, Ripley, motionless within.
A computer flickers into life. The screen flashes "Proximity Alert".
The shuttle is dwarfed by a massive circular structure.
From the shuttle window, the structure encloses the shuttle.
A powerful light shines in through the shuttle's rear-hatch window and a shadow moves outside.
A fountain of sparks erupt from a point on the hatch. The point travels downward in a line, cutting into the metal easily.
It reaches the bottom and changes direction.
Smoke fills the space.
> It completes the cut.
A mechanical arm, dimly visible through the smoke, is pulled away.
Another arm, mounted with some kind of projector pushes forward through the hatch.
Soft laser light fans out from it as it scans and maps the interior of the shuttle.
The scanning beam sweeps across the deathly-still form of Ripley.
The machine is withdrawn, and the scanning beams shut off.
A bulky, shadowy figure steps through the light and into the shuttle.
The figure, wearing heavy coveralls and a respirator, explores with a torch.
Two other suited figures climb through.
A gloved hand wipes away the frost on the casing.
Ripley doesn't react.
In the tube with her is a still, orange cat.
He removes the respirator.
Ripley's sleeping face fades to the blue arc of the Earth from space.
In orbit. Six towers, like office-blocks in space, connected by struts and scaffolds.
A hospital room with a view of the Earth. A black nurse checks the equipment above Ripley's bed.
Ripley sits up.
[FAST-ish] A man in a suit enters holding an orange tom-cat.
Jones the cat senses something wrong with Ripley.
Jones bolts.
Ripley clutches her chest.
Burke looks concerned.
Ripley convulses, arching her back.
She slaps away a glass of water.
Ripley falls back, writhing. Burke holds her down.
Staff rush in.
Ripley lifts the hospital gown over her stomach ...
The staff gape as the skin distends horribly ...
Night. Ripley wakes, clutching her chest.
On screen.
She lifts the floppy cat and hugs it.
Later, Ripley wearing a light shirt and trousers, sits on a bench in a sun dappled forest glade.
She reaches for a remote control.
The forest flickers out, leaving the bench and a few pot-plants.
Burke enters with a briefcase.
She takes the printout.
A woman with grey hair and a bright smile.
Her face contorts in grief.
[FAST-ish] Now, Ripley stands before a screen displaying personnel files of the Nostromo crew.
A board room.
Ripley sits at the end of the table.
She stands.
She turns away, studying Lambert's portrait on the screen.
She flings handfuls of paperwork at them, and stares defiantly.
Burke looks disappointed.
She closes her eyes.
The panel start packing up and filing out.
Ripley rubs her face. Burke approaches her.
She blocks him leaving.
[ACT] A barren landscape of jutting rocks shows through a haze of drizzle and whipping winds.
Stencilled words on a battered sign reads: Hadleys Hope. Population 158.
Behind the sign, a cluster of low-built functional habitations dwarfed by a volcano-shaped structure.
A tractor-like vehicle approaches a pitted, corrugated wind barrier.
A section slides open allowing the six-wheeler into the base site.
The vehicle's lights are hazy blurs through the dust. It trundles along an alleyway between the habitations.
The transport passes near an elevated building with heavily shielded observation windows.
Inside the building, a middle-aged beer-bellied man in a company shirt collects a cup of coffee from a monitor and moves through a room crowded with workers in hard-hats, and others in office shirts.
A man with a headset intercepts him in the corridor.
He gestures.
One of the children cycles away on a company-branded plastic tricycle.
A poster reads: Weyland-Yutani Corp. Building better worlds.
Another part of the desolate planet, jagged peaks fringe a basin of dark rock.
Another of the articulated six-wheelers judders across.
It crests a small hill.
> In the cabin a man and woman sit up front; a boy and girl sit behind, arguing.
Outside the windscreen, a bone like shape looms through the haze.
The vehicle passes under a titanic jutting arm of a U shaped spaceship embedded in the rocks.
The visible spar curves gently, and is textured with a web of ridges.
The vehicle is parked up.
The cabin door opens and the two adults clamber down, wearing heavy weather gear and visors.
They slide down the rocks towards the vessel and shine their torches.
The little girl has long blonde hair and blue eyes. She watches them go from a rain streaked window.
Her parents approach the gash in the side of the ship.
Her mother enters the darkness first and shines her torch.
The jagged sections of broken wall are lined with strange herringbone segments. The man reaches out to touch them.
They shine their torches around and explore further.
The little girl watches them disappear into the derelict ship.
Her brother peeps over her shoulder.
Later, the light is dwindling.
The little girl stares out the window, then across to her dozing brother. She shakes him gently.
The door slams open and the mother screams into the radio.
The girl stares. Her father is laying on the ground, a creature with long, spiderlike legs wrapped around his head.
The creature's soft, segmented tail tightens around his neck.
Gateway station. Ripley's quarters. A lazy ribbon of cigarette smoke rises into the air.
Ripley's cigarette is a burning grey cylinder of ash, unsmoked, held loosely in her fingers.
She stares into space.
> Jonesey jumps down from a bench.
Burke and a man in uniform walk down a narrow, grey-panelled corridor.
Ripley looks up.
She closes the door.
Ripley opens the door. Later, she pours coffee.
He offers her his card as she lights a cigarette. Puts it on the table.
Gorman puts on a peaked military cap as he leaves.
> Ripley crouches down and feeds something to Jonesy.
> Later at night, Ripley sits bolt upright.
She rubs her chest, grimacing. Her skin shines with sweat.
> She sits on the edge of her bed, head in her hands
In the tiny bathroom, she runs water over her face.
She looks at herself in the mirror.
Later, she puts Burke's card into a machine with a screen, next to an ash-tray
She snatches out the card, and closes her eyes, hand against her head.
> She smiles at Jonesy.
He regards her with impassive green eyes.
[ACT] Deep space. A long, blocky vessel with the name "Sulaco" stencilled on the side comes into view. Its stern bristles with sharp looking spars.
Inside, an unsecured locker door swings lazily, a poster of a naked woman tacked to the inside.
The interior of the ship is gloomy, and deserted.
Along an angled metal wall are racks of automatic rifles.
We move slowly through the functional, metal clad spaces.
In a hanger strewn with equipment, two bombs are racked on a tracked metal cart. Behind them, is something that looks like a humanoid forklift. A stubby nosed aerospace vehicle hangs low from the ceiling with loading ramp extended.
Two silver balls on a magnetic desk ornament spin and flick back and forth on a table in the empty mess-room.
Another row of lockers, some with dented doors.
Further back is a row of bulky frost-encrusted hypersleep pods, fed by an array of pipes and ducts.
> A nearby computer flickers into life.
The screen lists a series of names.
Later, the transparent casings are clear and lit from within.
Giant arms, each side of the pods, lever the casings open, revealing a line of sleeping men and women.
More lights come on, bathing the sleepers in warm, morning light.
Ripley, in grey top and pants, stirs.
Slowly they all wake.
Apone, a black man with a moustache blinks, puts a cigar in his mouth.
A man with a blond crew-cut and a scar sits up.
Dietrich.
Seargant Apone with the cigar strides along the line.
[FAST] Hudson
Vasquez, a short, muscular woman starts doing pull-ups.
The marines mill around, pulling on their clothes.
Vasquez rests and nods towards Ripley.
Ferro
Drake joins Vasquez on the chin-up bar. Hudson:
[FAST] Drake and Vasquez lock hands in a power-greeting.
Later, in the mess, Ripley takes a cup from a dispenser.
Hudson carries a food tray over to the mess table.
Apone.
Ripley drinks at a separate table.
Spunkmeyer
Frost.
Bishop, dark-haired, takes a dagger from Hudson and flips it dextrously.
Drake looms up behind Hudson.
[Step] Drake forces Hudson's hand on the table, fingers splayed.
Bishop stabs the point of the dagger in a pattern between Hudson's fingers.
Bishop moves at superhuman speed.
Hudson, stunned, takes his dagger.
Bishop sits at a separate table with Ripley, Burke and Gorman and offers a platter.
Hicks
Frost, a lean black man looks over.
[FAST-ish] Bishop has cut his finger. Ripley notices a trickle of white android blood.
[FAST] She slaps the tray away.
Bishop looks injured.
Later in the spacious hanger, we see that there are two of the heavy aircraft suspended from the ceiling.
> The marines loiter in a group at one end. Some sit on the equipment. Frost and Dietrich are sparring. Apone, Gorman and Ripley enter.
Gorman rubs his crew-cut.
Hicks.
Ripley locks eyes with Vasquez and steps forwards.
The marines look serious. Apone chews his cigar.
Hudson grins and raises his hand.
Space. The Sulaco slides into orbit around the planet LV-426, banded with grey-blue clouds.
The hanger is a hive of activity. Hudson checks the nose-cone of a missile.
Spunkmeyer is strapped into a power-loader, a hulking humanoid exoskeleton 3 meters tall. He carries a missile in two vice-like claws.
He loads it into a port on the drop-ship
He reverses the rugged machine.
Ripley in a grey-blue jumpsuit moves through the bustle.
She indicates the spare.
Apone chews his cigar.
Ripley reaches up and hauls herself in.
She pulls the safety straps over her shoulders and buckles herself in.
Buckles around her feet and ankles automatically tighten.
She pulls the roll-cage down
She slides her arms in and hits some keys. The hazard beacon on top lights up.
She pulls a sliding grip with a thumb operated joystick.
The loader's arms raise, and she spins the wrist-servos around, opening and closing the massive claws.
She steps forward and the machine steps with her.
Hicks grins and Apone looks impressed as she clumps across the hanger.
She picks up a metal crate with the claws.
Smiling, Hicks trades glances with Apone.
Space. The Sulaco moves into a lower orbit.
Frost slaps a magazine into a snub-nosed pulse-rifle and lays it down alongside others.
Drake and Vasquez practice with their Smart-Guns, cumbersome two-handed, gyro-stablised weapons mounted on articulated support arms. They mirror each other like synchronised dancers.
The drop-ship's running lights switch on. Ferro and Spunkmeyer squeeze into the cockpit.
Ferro, wearing a flight helmet, slips on a pair of mirrored aviators.
On the hanger floor, Ripley looks up in trepidation.
An armoured personnel carrier, a long, hunched vehicle with wheels almost as high as itself, drives into the bay.
> In the locker room, the marines strap on and check their armour.
The marines jog out.
They assemble in the hanger.
They file into the armoured personnel carrier, sitting both sides.
Ripley follows uncertainly.
Ripley, seated next to Burke, lowers the harness restraint.
Bishop, reverses the APC up the loading ramp.
The loading ramp lifts the APC into the ship.
Massive doors open in the floor under the ship.
The ship is lowered into position.
The airlock doors close above the drop-ship.
The outer-doors open, the bright planet below.
The ship drops from the belly of the Sulaco. It is built like a gunship: forward-heavy, streamlined and muscular, tapering to the tail.
The ship levels out and tilts towards the cloud layer.
It's enveloped in fog as it hurtles forwards.
Gorman, strapped in at the back of the APC in a command centre, grips the armrests.
Vasquez
Ripley trades glances with Burke.
Hicks opposite is asleep.
As the ship flies into the weather, Ferro studies a digital topographic map.
The ship punches out of the clouds.
Frost speaks to Crowe.
On an array of screens, Gorman studies the footage from the suit-mounted cameras.
He whacks it.
Hudson leans over Ripley.
The marines unstrap themselves and get ready.
Vasquez hauls her smart-gun on its support arm.
Weapon pods unfold from the drop-ship, giving it the appearance of a malevolent damsel-fly.
Outside the rain-streaked windows, the titanic volcano-shaped structure looms.
Ripley sees it on a monitor.
The drop-ship banks and skirts the edge of the processor.
From the air, the squat, huddled structures show no movement.
The landing skids lower and powerful floodlights come on.
As it comes into land, the loading ramp opens, with the APC ready to go.
Bishop guns the vehicle forward.
The drop-ship vertically takes off behind the APC.
[ACT] The marines exit into the rain, moving efficiently around wind-baffles and equipment, covering each other as they go.
They form a cordon around a loading lock.
Sergeant Apone surveys the base with field-glasses
He sees parked up heavy equipment. A neon sign over a bar is still lit. But there are no signs of life.
> In the APC.
Vasquez hefting her smart-gun, moves up the loading ramp toward the heavy doors. The other marines dodge and weave around her.
> They move closer to the doors. Apone tries the keypad.
Shouldering his rifle, Hudson pulls out a circuit board from a pouch.
Drake advances with his smart-gun, flanked by the other marines.
Hudson connects his circuit to the door panel with crocodile clips.
The heavy door opens. The marines jockey for covering positions.
Vasquez, heavy weapon ready, advances into the dark opening.
The marine's shoulder-mounted lights sweep over an inner-door.
Hudson and Apone manually pull the double-door open.
A long hexagonal corridor, with a gash in the ceiling spilling insulation and conduits, dripping with water.
They manoeuver around the damage. The wide corridor is metal, with exposed support struts at regular intervals and exposed plumbing pipes.
They advance cautiously, Vasquez leading.
The strip lighting shows more damage, and clutter.
> The APC.
Outside, Hicks breaks cover and moves inside.
Vasquez advances down the corridor, damaged sections dripping water onto the metal grated floor.
> In the APC, Gorman, Ripley and Burke study the video feed from Apone's helmet camera.
Hicks ascends a metal staircase.
In the APC, Ripley leans forward, watching.
Hicks cautiously steps onto the upper level.
Hudson brings out a bulky, hand-held device with a small, inset screen pulsing with radial light.
Following Vasquez, he pans it around.
Vasquez pivots to cover an intersection.
> Upstairs, Hicks pans *his* motion-tracker around.
He advances with his squad.
The marines trade hand-signals and efficiently divide and separate.
The troopers move off, while Hicks and Drake cautiously enter a side room.
They play their shoulder-mounted torches over grey filing cabinets and desks.
In the APC Hicks' camera shows a damaged window, and pans over to a desk scattered with papers and polystyrene cups.
Downstairs, Vasquez and Hudson methodically check the corridors.
A blob on the tracker at 26 meters.
Gorman stares at their camera feed.
Hudson motions to Vasquez. She swings her gun around to a partially open metal door.
The tracker shows 9 meters.
Ripley watches, wide-eyed.
Hudson kicks the door open and they move inside. Vasquez aims at an internal door.
[FAST] Mice in a cage.
Hicks stares around the room, the water dripping down onto the desk soaking a half-eaten doughnut on a plate, then moves off.
In the APC.
There are holes in the grated floor.
Vasquez pans up to a gaping hole in the ceiling with melted edges.
Looking down, the hole goes through several levels.
Hudson spits. Vasquez jostles him.
Apone.
The wide, flat, armoured APC drives through the rain between buildings and equipment.
It draws up near a building with a large door stencilled South Lock.
Hudson over the radio.
Burke, huddling against the rain, follows Gorman. Ripley trails.
They join three waiting marines and move inside.
Ripley hesitates before the door, the rain soaking her hair.
Hicks turns back, concerned.
She joins them inside. The doors close.
Gorman ducks through a narrow space in a jumble of containers, struts and equipment welded together.
Ripley and Burke follow.
Drake meets them.
[FAST-ish] Ripley appears tense, eyes darting around.
Drake with his smart-gun leads them into a well-lit area, lined with lockers and equipment.
They all file in.
Drake stalks down an avenue between the lockers and a clean bench supporting medical equipment.
Gorman and the others come through on the other side of the lockers.
Bishop shines a light around, examining the medical equipment.
Something catches Ripley's eye and she freezes.
Three vertical cylinders. In each tank floats a strange, grey shape.
Hicks moves Ripley gently to the side and advances.
The shapes are the parasite creatures, like giant fleshy spiders, curled up on themselves.
They all move around them, carefully.
Burke.
Ripley nods.
Fascinated he moves closer to one of the tubes.
He stares at the grotesque many-fingered thing
He looks at her, then back at the specimen.
[FAST-ish] It lunges, thrusting a tube from its fleshy underside against the glass like a writhing tounge. Its segmented tail thrashes.
Hicks.
Bishop checks a clipboard.
> Frost, outside the lab.
Hicks looks over Frosts shoulder at the tracker.
Drake manoeuvers his smart-gun and takes point.
They all follow, single file.
Ripley jumps as Gorman accidentally knocks a thermos.
Drake, Frost and Hicks move forward.
Hicks steps back into the metal corridor, weapon ready.
Drake follows, swinging the gun around on its pivot-arm.
As a trio, Hicks, Frost and Drake advance down the corridor.
The tracker shows 8 meters.
[FAST] > Something moves!
[FAST] Hicks pushes Drake aside.
Hicks advances, crouching down.
Low on the corridor's side is a narrow cavity. They crowd around it. Ripley looks in.
A little girl with matted blond hair and wide blue eyes, clutching a dolls head.
[FAST] She draws back.
[FAST] She bites!
The girl darts along the under-floor cavity.
The girl disappears into a duct. Ripley dives in after her.
A cramped space piled with blankets and boxes and scavenged supplies.
The girl backs into a corner, bare knees showing through torn trousers.
Ripley looks around the nest the girl has made for herself.
It's a part of the air-conditioning system; above the nest is a blower-drum, a giant water-wheel like structure, making the light strobe.
She approaches the little girl.
The girl draws back.
She bolts!
The fight goes out of her as Ripley cradles her and brushes her hair aside.
Ripley notices something in the rubbish and reaches out for a photo in a plastic frame.
The little girl smiling. "Second Grade Citizenship Award Rebecca Jordan"
Ripley looks back to the girl.
The operations room.
The shutters lower, letting the dismal daylight in.
Rebecca is seated on a desk. Dietrich checks her over.
No response.
Gorman and Dietrich leave Ripley with Rebecca.
Ripley sits, putting herself at Rebecca's level and offers her a cup.
[FASTish] She stares blankly as Ripley helps her drink.
She spills a little.
Ripley wipes Rebecca's chin with a cloth.
She dabs at Rebecca's face. Rebecca is stiff and scarcely reacts.
Rebecca just stares.
A detailed electronic map of the complex scrolls down and left.
Hudson chews gum as he scans the map, while the others look over his shoulder.
[FAST] Ripley
Ripley looks up.
Ripley gestures to Newt's doll-head.
Newt breaks eye contact and looks blank.
A minute shake of the head.
A tiny nod.
Newt solemnly shakes her head.
The med-lab. Bishop stares through a microscope at the dead spider-like parasite, pinned to a dissection table, legs splayed, membranes pinned.
Spunkmeyer wheels in some equipment.
Bishop looks up, staring intensely.
Absorbed, he returns to his specimen.
Operations.
[ACT] The APC traverses the rocky landscape beyond the base, and navigates towards the looming atmosphere processor.
> In the hold, Newt talks to Casey.
Ripley and Gorman watch the video feed from outside. The APC passes beneath massive pylons, forming part of the outer support structure.
It mounts a wide access ramp and drives into the structure.
A loading lock door slides up.
A massive cannon mounted on top of the APC slides backwards on a rail to the rear of the vehicle to allow it to pass the lower ceiling access way.
> Lights blazing through the gloom, the APC comes to a halt.
The marines deploy efficiently into the gloomy industrial space.
Gorman and the civilians watch in the APC.
On the grainy video, a ribbed, organic shape.
The walls and exposed plumbing have been webbed with a strange biomechanical growth.
The ribbed, herringbone shapes and organic contours flow up and over the machinery.
Vasquez and Hudson move forward through the steaming atmosphere.
The other marines follow.
The unsettling space is dripping with moisture.
Vasquez advances cautiously, big gun ready.
Hicks, Frost and others advance in reverse, covering the rear.
> Dietrich breaks off a strand of the rigid growth.
In the APC, Ripley considers, and then checks the map display.
Small markers move as the marines advance.
She unclips a component from her gun.
She has two spares and passes one to Drake.
> Hicks reaches back and pulls out a shotgun.
Vasquez advances into the organic labyrinth, followed by the other troopers.
They come out into a wider, open chamber.
They stop, and look up, in horror.
Embedded in the organic webbing is a foot wearing a sneaker.
Above, epoxied into the wall, a grey face contorted in a frozen scream.
The bodies of the colonists are cocooned in the structure, like sardines in aspic.
> Vasquez passes a frozen hand, reaching out from the wall. Then a contorted face with an arm across the eyes.
Hicks prods a leathery ovoid about a metre high with his shotgun.
Four fleshy petals at the top of the empty egg gape open.
With the barrel he lifts the mucus encrusted husk of one of the parasites nearby.
He shakes it free in disgust.
Vasquez looks down into a wide opening, surrounded on four sides by railings.
Dietrich looks closer at the bizarre wall growth.
The marines file along the narrow walkway, shoulder-mounted lights sweeping through the mist and gloom.
Dietrich leans in close to a woman in the wall, arms held rigid with webbing, head slumped forward.
Dietrict lifts her head up. Her skin is grey.
> Her eyes snap open!
In the APC, Ripley clutches her chest.
The woman's chest seems to jump.
Underneath, something jerks against the fabric, soaking it in blood.
A creature, an eyeless, toothed worm punches out of her chest.
Apone incinerates the woman's corpse; the chest-burster flails.
The cooked monster goes limp.
The marines look up at the sound.
Elsewhere, clinging to the organic webbing, a dark, insectoid shape stirs.
Another shape -- slender, elegant, glistening -- uncurls itself.
Another shadow moves in the smoke.
Frost armed with a hand gun looks around nervously.
A marine jostles Frost, who jumps.
Dietrich.
[FAST] Above her, hidden in the growth on the wall, a skeletal alien reaches down.
[FAST] Her flamethrower triggers, turning Frost into a burning torch. He plummets over the railing.
Wierzbowski runs over. The confiscated ammo pouch is on the ground, burning.
Hicks pulls him back
The ammo blows; Marines are sent flying.
Apone peers through the smoke and gloom.
Hicks checks Crowe -- neck broken -- then looks around.
[FAST] > Vasquez and Drake bring up their guns.
[FAST] > An alien swoops.
[FAST] Apone's feed dissolves into static.
Hicks aims his shotgun.
Gorman is wide-eyed, sweating.
She shakes him.
She heads forward, leaving Gorman.
Ripley lowers the harness restraint over Newt, then climbs into the driver's seat and takes the controls.
She guns the vehicle forward.
Incensed, Gorman tries to pull Ripley away.
The APC scrapes a wall.
The APC careens right and left.
Burke pulls Gorman off Ripley.
[FAST] Ripley pulls the APC too fast around a corner and it bashes into another wall.
Hicks drags Hudson as they fall back.
Drake and Vasquez cover the rear, firing their guns back into the nest.
Ripley aims the APC at a wall and braces as she accelerates.
It crashes into the wall and pushes through, bulldozing metal and alien encrustation aside.
[FAST-ish] Drake and Vasquez cover the rear. An alien bursts into a spray of yellow ichor.
Gun empty, Drake sloughs the harness and pulls a flame unit off his back. [PRN: sloffs]
Hudson and Hicks stagger into the APC.
Vasquez climbs in. Drake sprays jets of flame back the way they came.
An alien comes at Drake from the side.
The monster lunges. Vasquez fires.
Acid sprays across Drake.
He falls, a jet of flame hitting the APC.
Burke grabs an extinguisher.
Hicks wrestles the distraught Vasquez.
He slams her against the wall.
Hicks pulls the door as Ripley powers up the APC.
An eyeless, skull like alien head pushes in.
He raises his shotgun.
Acid splashes Hudson.
The APC reverses out of the debris and torn metal.
The unrestrained marines are tossed around.
Ripley guns the APC, still on fire, forward through the complex.
> An overhead locker falls open, and a box strikes Gorman's head.
Ripley steers around a corner.
A noise above, Ripley looks up.
An alien punches through the damaged windscreen, reaching for Ripley.
She slams on the breaks; the alien flies forward.
The skeletal creature lifts its elongated head but is crushed beneath the grinding armoured wheels.
The APC cannons forwards relentlessly
Ripley drives straight into the loading access door and out into the rocky plain.
> Hicks appears.
She brings the APC to a halt.
Hicks heads back to check on the others. Ripley checks Newt.
She gives a thumbs up.
Burke approaches Hudson with a first-aid kit.
[FAST] Hudson at the console.
Hicks looks bleak.
Ripley gives a faint smile.
Outside the APC, among the jutting rocks, the marines carry Gorman on a stretcher.
Hicks lights a bright red flare and tosses it.
Spunkmeyer dashes up the ramp. At the top he puts his hand in a sticky glob of mucus.
The drop-ship lifts up in a vertical takeoff.
Hovering above the base, it rotates and flies forward, nose lowered.
Hicks tosses another flare.
Ripley, one hand on Newts shoulder, watches the distant dragonfly shape.
Ferro taps her mic.
She turns.
[FAST] An Alien! It opens its mouth, revealing the inner jaws. Ferro reaches for a gun. The alien lunges.
Blood spatters the windscreen.
The drop-ship lists strangely to the side.
It clips a jutting rock.
The drop-ship crashes sideways on, then rolls over and over towards them.
The marines run for cover among the rocks.
The fuselage rolls over them and careens into the outer structure of the atmosphere processor.
Hudson, lying in the lee of a rock blinks his eyes open.
Hicks kicks a piece of flaming debris away. He pulls another piece off Gorman's stretcher.
Hudson holds up a smoking panel disbelievingly, and staggers to his feet.
Hicks shakes him.
Newt seems unsurprised. She climbs up on a rock and looks into the distance. Ripley joins her.
They look out at a small moon rising over the atmosphere processor.
[ACT] Outside the elevated operations building, the shutters slowly come up.
> Inside Hudson drops a moulded plastic crate onto a table.
[FAST] Newt reaches out.
Newt puts on a marine helmet.
Hicks and Vasquez trade glances.
Newt in her oversized helmet salutes Hudson.
Bishop
Ripley watches him go.
Later, Ripley traces a line on an electronic map table.
Newt jumps up and down, trying to see.
The map zooms. Hicks lifts Newt up onto the edge of the table.
In front of an array of monitors, Hicks unpacks a couple of rugged laptops.
On screen, Hicks tabs through the setup options for the Remote Sentry Weapon System. The text is yellow on black, low resolution.
> Hudson and Vasquez in the access tunnel.
She tosses a barrel in front of the tripod guns.
Later, Burke and Newt carry cartons and supplies. Hicks uses a hand-welder on a barricade.
Ripley joins him, studying a print-out.
[FAST-ish] It resembles a smartwatch.
A device like a small flashlight.
She smiles.
Outside the elevated operations building, nothing moves.
In a corridor intersection, two sentry guns, chunky weapons fixed to tripods, sweep back and forth.
Ripley carries a tired Newt through the medical wing, and into an darkened operating room, cluttered with trolleys and equipment.
She sets her down on a cot set up against a wall, and turns on a lamp.
[FAST] She holds it up.
Ripley turns on a portable radiant heater.
She fastens the tracker around Newt's tiny wrist.
> Ripley, lit by the soft orange glow, looks down at Newt seriously.
Newt hugs her tightly.
Ripley holds her, kisses her cheek.
Newt plays "made-you-look", surprising Ripley.
Ripley leaves. Newt turns over and studies the tracker.
> Medical. Gorman is unconscious, a blood-stained bandage around his forehead.
Ripley stares at him.
Later
Red lights flash. Ripley runs.
The laptops show the remaining ammo and operating temperature.
He leans back.
Later. The atmosphere processor in the distance.
He smiles unconvincingly.
Vasquez cuts a hole into a thick pipe.
Bishop pokes his head in and shines a torch along the narrow space.
He slides into the pipe, refusing a hand-gun.
Bishop shoulders forward through the narrow pipe.
Vasquez seals the plate with her hand welder.
Bishop squeezes himself forwards, shrugging his shoulders.
> Later, the sentry-guns open fire with giant orange muzzle-flashes.
[FAST] Lit by flashes, the aliens are shredded by the relentless gunfire.
> Hicks grabs his rifle.
The guns swivel, waiting for targets. Smoke pours off their barrels.
The display shows 10 rounds remaining.
They relax and drop their weapons.
Hudson and Vasquez stare back at him.
Ripley drinks coffee from a cup as Vasquez and Hudson collect their weapons.
Vasquez thumps Hudsons chest armour and they leave.
Hicks turns to Ripley.
He presents it to her.
She hesitates, then takes it.
Bishop continues inching his way through the pipe.
> Ripley sights along the rifle.
She up-ends the weapon.
Carrying the rifle, Ripley emerges into the corridor.
A door opens and Gorman stands there.
She pushes past Gorman and Burke.
Gorman notices Vasquez in the corridor, who stares coldly at him.
Ripley makes her way through the darkened medlab.
She moves through the door into the O.R where she left Newt sleeping.
She carries her rifle, loose in one hand.
The bed is empty.
She pulls back the covers, and looks around, concerned.
Nothing.
She looks down, and crouches.
Newt is curled up on the floor under the bed, in the soft orange glow of the heater.
Ripley sets the rifle down on the bed, then crawls under, and slips in behind Newt.
Newt stirs, distressed.
Ripley slowly strokes Newts hair.
Ripley rests her head.
Lightning discharges from the distant Atmosphere Processor.
The wind buffets Bishop. He has set up a laptop near an exposed junction box.
He plugs in a cable and starts typing.
Just above, the giant uplink dish changes angle.
Bishop hits a button: "Enable".
The Sulaco in low orbit.
In the empty hanger, warning lights come on.
Number two drop-ship, hanging from a massive clamp on the ceiling, is moved ponderously to position above the launching air-lock.
Ripley and Newt sleep.
Ripley jolts awake.
She checks her watch and slides back down. Then she sees them ...
On the floor near the door, two transparent specimen tubes. One rocks a little. Both are empty.
Surreptitiously, Ripley reaches up over the bed.
Her hands search the empty mattress above.
She lifts herself up ... Her pulse-rifle is gone.
> Her eyes dart around. Something launches itself at her.
Ripley ducks back. Long, spiderlike fingers reach down between the mattress and wall.
Ripley and Newt scoot out and upend the bed over the facehugger.
They dash to the door. It's locked!
The yellow spider-like creature runs behind a cupboard.
Ripley and Newt try to force the sliding door open. It doesn't budge.
> They bang on the large observation window.
From the other side, there is almost no sound.
Ripley notices her rifle on the desk outside.
[OVER DIALOGUE] Ripley waves frantically at the CCTV camera.
[OVER DIALOGUE] In operations, Burke taps his fingers on the screen, and then turns it off.
Ripley grabs a metal chair and swings.
The high-impact glass barely vibrates.
She drops the chair and presses her back to the window.
She scans the room.
She looks up.
She carefully stalks into the centre of the room. She stands on tip-toe under a fire sensor and holds her lighter up.
The sprinklers trigger, dousing the room.
Hicks grabs an extinguisher off the wall.
The creature leaps at Ripley, who stumbles back. She manages to throw it across the room, it flips itself and comes right back at her. She scoots back across the floor, kicking obstacles in its way.
It leaps straight for her face!
As she fights it off, the tail whips around her throat.
It reaches for her like a spasmodic, grasping hand.
The other creature crawls up a desk behind Newt. She shoves the desk back to the wall, trapping its tail.
Hicks arrives.
He bursts through the weakened window and rolls.
Hicks runs to Ripley, and wrestles with the incredibly strong fingers.
He kicks the desk.
The creature is blown to pieces.
Vasquez and Gorman help Hicks as Ripley struggles to breathe.
They unwind the tail.
It thrashes!
They throw it.
Soaking wet, Ripley holds Newt tight to her.
[ACT] Operations. Burke is seated.
Ripley looks at Burke with a hollow expression.
Burke is sweating.
[FAST] Darkness. Then red lighting.
They emerge into the wide corridor, bathed in the hell-ish red emergency lighting. Trackers and rifles ready, they split up.
Hudson approaches the haphazardly welded barricade.
Vasquez advances cautiously.
Vasquez slowly pans her tracker.
Top and bottom, Hicks and Vasquez weld the door.
Newt tugs her arm.
They fall back.
Ripley slowly ... looks ... up.
Hicks climbs a filing cabinet and pushes up a panel of the ceiling with the muzzle of his rifle.
He peeks over and sweeps his torch.
> Packed like sardines, a swarm of aliens --
-- climbing upside down along the cavity.
Hicks falls back.
The aliens drop, shredding the ceiling.
Burke ducks away and runs.
An alien, teeth bared, comes at Ripley. She fumbles with the rifle.
She drags Newt down a passage, and sees Burke.
He closes the door.
The aliens, nightmarish snarling silhouettes in the red-lighting and muzzle-flashes of the guns, pour in through the ceiling.
The floor under his feet erupts.
He's dragged down.
> Hicks rolls, shooting an alien mid-lunge.
Hicks starts cutting the lock.
Vasquez guards the passageway behind them.
A grenade sends the creatures flying.
She ducks back and joins the others as Hicks opens the door.
They find another locked door.
In the harsh red lighting, a jittery Burke backs away.
The door behind him slides open.
[FAST] He stares up in fear as the creature's inner jaws snap out.
Newt removes a panel in the wall.
Ripley shines a torch down a crawl-space.
The door buckles with repeated impacts. Vasquez levels her rifle.
The tunnels.
> Vasquez.
At the rear, Vasquez retreats backwards along the cramped tunnel.
> An alien -- swift as a greyhound -- rushes along the tunnel toward Vasquez.
Newt runs ahead.
Rifle empty, Vasquez pulls out her service pistol.
An alien drops on her from a vertical shaft.
She kicks its long skull like head against the tunnel and fires.
Acid sprays her boot.
> Hicks and Gorman pause at an intersection.
Gorman heads back.
Gorman reaches her, and drags her by her shoulders.
A panel in the floor ahead buckles and an alien bursts through.
[FAST] An intersection above a large blower drum turning slowly.
Ripley starts up the ladder, Hicks helps Newt up.
Gorman's gun is empty. An alien crawls towards them.
He holds her tight. Another black, insect shape comes at them.
Gorman pops the cap off a grenade. Vasquez grips his hand in the "power greeting". [PAUSE] And they wait.
Scouring flame flows through the confined tunnels.
Newt loses her grip.
Holding onto the drum, it rotates down.
Hicks jams his rifle into the mechanism.
Ripley reaches for her sleeve.
[FAST] > Newt slips from her jacket.
Newt slides out of sight.
The tracker.
Hicks kicks out a vent and they slide into a corridor.
Newt is up to her chest in a flooded area, lined with pipes and valves.
She clutches her doll's-head.
Newt climbs atop some pipes.
Newt is under the floor. She sticks her fingers up through the metal grating.
Hicks takes out his hand welder, and Newt slides back into the water.
The screen reads 25 meters.
Clusters of white blobs grow closer.
He cuts through one bar after another.
Below, Newt watches the sparks shower into the water.
She looks around, scared.
8 meters.
An alien, shining black and skeletal, erupts from the water.
They stamp on the grating.
She's gone. Casey's empty doll-head bobs and then sinks below the water.
Hicks hauls her back.
They rise, and stagger along the corridor.
They pass an intersection.
They reach a lift at the end of a corridor.
Inside, Hicks pounds the up button.
Nothing happens.
An alien launches itself at them.
Acrid smoke fills the air as acid eats into Hicks armour.
Ripley struggles with the buckles on his body armour.
Ripley supports Hicks out of the lift.
They reach the North loading lock, and stagger down the ramp.
Bishop uses a joystick on the laptop to guide the drop-ship.
It flies overhead, lights cutting through the blustery wind and haze.
It tilts a little sidewise, adjusting its position, and lowers itself to the ground.
Ripley supports Hicks up the ramp into the drop-ship. Bishop follows.
[ACT] Bishop in the cockpit of the drop-ship.
He pilots it toward the massive atmosphere processor, now crackling with energy discharges.
The drop-ship flies into the canyon-like industrial super-structure.
Inside, Ripley pulls a pulse-rifle off a rack and lays it down.
Then she selects a flame-unit and lays it on top of the rifle.
She binds the two together with a strap.
She reinforces the assembly with duct-tape.
Hicks self-administers a pain-killer in his arm.
The drop-ship approaches an elevated landing pad, jutting from the internal support structures.
It curves around through the dust and sets down carefully.
Ripley slaps a magazine into the rifle. The digital ammo count reads "95".
She duct-tape's the tracker to the improvised weapon.
She slings it over her shoulder, and then opens a box of M-40 grenades and plucks some out.
She takes a pouch of M-94 marking flares, and a bandolier of grenades.
Hicks is holding gauze to his injured face.
He smiles.
She stares back.
She holds his gaze for a moment ...
... then turns and walks down the gantry steps to the platform.
Ripley gets into a service elevator and sets the weapon down.
Like loading shotgun shells, she starts feeding grenades into the under-barrel of the pulse-rifle.
The elevator descends.
She stuffs a handful of the pencil sized marking flares into her pockets.
She struggles out of her jacket. She's wearing a sweat-stained light grey t-shirt. She straps on a bandolier containing more grenades.
She smoothes her hair back, and picks up the combo-rifle, putting the strap over her shoulder.
The elevator descends. She braces herself, holding the weapon confidently.
She lights the pilot-light on the flame-unit.
The elevator stops and the large doors slide open.
The air is filled with venting steam. Ripley surveys the industrial maze of pipes and safety railings in the corridor beyond.
She cautiously steps forward, sweeping her weapon slowly left and right.
She directs a jet of flame upwards as she advances.
She sweeps flame ahead of her, leaving part of the wall burning, and moves forward.
Looking back, the lift doors close.
The tracker: 49.4 meters.
She looks down a metal stairwell. A sign : Sub-level 3.
She descends one flight of stairs, then moves forward.
More venting steam blows around her.
She studies the tracker and moves off in another direction.
The walls further on are webbed with the alien nest structure.
Another burst of flame to clear the way.
She strikes one of the flares like a match, drops it on the floor.
She advances into the hive.
Range: 22 meters.
She finds another stairwell and descends.
She moves further into the nest.
She strikes another flare, it burns with a rosy light on the ground.
Zero meters. She sees something on the ground and crouches.
Newts wristband. As she picks it up, it drips ropey strings of sticky mucus.
She clutches it, eyes closed in anguish.
Elsewhere, Newt is entombed in an alcove, crusty webs of alien resin pinning her hands. She stirs and looks around.
She tests the resin, but can't break it.
Not far away, she sees a large, leathery alien egg. The top opens, like a four-petalled flower. Within, something heaves.
Long bony fingers stretch above the lip.
Ripley runs!
The parasite heaves itself up, preparing to leap.
Ripley arrives.
The creature is shredded.
[FAST] A guard alien jumps like a grasshopper from one wall to another.
With both hands Ripley tears away chunks of the alien encrustation.
She frees Newt and hoists her onto her hip.
Outside, an explosion rips through the structure.
Inside, the ground rocks, and flames cut off Ripley's way back.
Carrying Newt, she tries another path.
Passing through a curtain of steam, they pass into a large chamber.
And stop.
They are surrounded by dozens of alien eggs.
Ripley turns around ... very ... slowly.
She sees it ...
A fat tube, articulated like an elephant's trunk, births an egg on the ground, dripping with slime.
The ovipositor is at the end of something resembling an enormous, bloated length of translucent intestine, hanging from overhead pipes.
The sickly honey-yellow interior bulges with eggs.
Ripley's eyes follow along.
At the other end, sitting on its bloated egg-sac is a creature, similar to the aliens, but larger with a upsweeping black chitinous [PRN:KY-tin-us] frill.
Ripley stares at it, shocked.
It unfurls two pairs of arms, and raises the imposing frill.
From beneath the frill its head emerges: narrow and eyeless, with teeth like gleaming icicles.
Ripley watches with trepidation.
> The creature -- the Queen alien -- bares its teeth.
An alien nearby responds.
Ripley looks around, noticing the interaction.
Another alien bares its teeth.
Ripley sets Newt down. She looks up at the Queen with a steely expression, then turns and carefully aims her flame-unit above the eggs.
Distressed, the Queen thrashes.
Ripley then aims directly at the eggs and stares defiantly up at the Queen.
The Queen turns to one of the guard aliens.
The guard alien backs off, submissively.
The Queen seems to look back at Ripley.
Ripley and Newt start backing away, stepping carefully and slowly between the eggs.
They're about two thirds of the way across the chamber when the top of one of the eggs flowers, peeling open.
Ripley looks at the Queen and cocks her head.
In a broad sweep, she burns the eggs in a river of napalm.
The Queen thrashes as Ripley plays the flame-unit back and forth.
> Ripley spies an alien crawling along the wall.
And another.
She holds the trigger down, shredding aliens and eggs alike.
A grenade punches through the egg sac. It ruptures in a spray of milky fluid.
Incensed, the Queen rages.
An alien.
She grabs Newt's hand and they run.
> Ripley pulls off a bandolier of grenades and tosses it back.
The nest burns.
Flames around her, the Queen leans forward, struggling.
With tremendous effort, she tears herself free of the ruined egg-sac.
Ripley runs with Newt clinging to her.
She passes one of the marker flares.
She leaves the nest and runs into an industrial area.
She runs headlong along a narrow passage.
She runs up the stairs.
The lift. Ripley punches the call button.
She sees the lift, high above, descending slowly.
She punches the lift button again.
Ripley turns at the distant sound.
Ripley runs over to a ladder.
The Queen's head appears through the steam, and bares its teeth.
The service lift arrives, the door slides open. Ripley runs back over.
She slaps the button.
The Queen stalks towards them, taking up most of the passage.
The cage-door of the lift closes.
Ripley fires the almost-empty flame-thrower through the cage door.
The lift rises, taking them away.
Explosions rock the lift as it rises.
Below, a second lift arrives, and the door slides open.
The Queen tilts her head quizzically.
Ripley and Newt huddle in the corner of the lift.
They reach the top, the lift doors open and they rush out.
Ripley stares in disbelief. The ship is gone.
Ripley notices the other elevator, far below, rising.
The ammo counter on her rifle reads zero. She discards the weapon.
More explosions make the platform rock. Vast sheets of flame rise up from the titanic industrial structures.
Staggering, Ripley picks Newt up and holds her close as the platform loses its stability.
She backs against a railing, and looks over the edge.
A massive pylon beyond the pad buckles and falls.
Ripley dodges falling debris.
The second lift reaches the top.
The cage-door opens.
The Queen has squeezed her bulk into the elevator.
Beyond the pad, the drop-ship rises!
Bishop manoeuvers the gantry to Ripley as the Queen launches herself from the lift. Newt scrambles aboard.
Ripley heaves herself awkwardly up.
Massive explosions and black smoke billow from the collapsing structure.
Ripley and Newt crawl aboard.
An explosion buffets the drop-ship and it's slammed into a damaged spar.
Scrap metal snares the drop-ships landing skid.
Ripley and Newt find berths.
Nose tilted down, tail elevated, Bishop guns the ship forward.
Bishop pilots through the smoke and flame.
He clears the structure.
The ship punches through the cloud layer.
BLAZING ... WHITE ... LIGHT.
The drop-ship screams away, a massive nuclear cloud mushrooming below.
Ripley, clutching Newt, opens her eyes.
The tension leaves Ripley's body, she holds Newt close.
She kisses Newt on the cheek.
The drop-ship clears the atmosphere.
Later, the drop-ship is docked. Inside the ship, Ripley checks on Hicks, who is slumped forward.
[ACT] Ripley, Bishop and Newt walk down the steps to the hanger.
Something at Bishops feet. A drop of acid ...
Bishop spasms, arching back.
A spike emerges from his chest.
White android blood fountains from his mouth. Ripley struggles with him.
He rises into the air, impaled on the Queen's massive, skeletal tail.
> The Queen, half hidden in the landing-gear housing, rips Bishop in half.
Bishop's torso skids on the hanger floor.
Ripley backs away as the Queen emerges.
The massive alien, crouches, scorpion like.
Newt scoots back, attracting the attention of the Queen.
Newt scurries away.
She disappear down an access hatch in the floor.
Ripley gestures wildly, holding its eyeless gaze.
> She turns and runs.
Awkwardly, the giant alien stalks after her.
Ripley slaps a control and a massive, heavy door drops between her and the Queen.
The Queen bashes her head repeatedly against the door.
Ripley looks around.
Bishop, android innards spilling from his torso, watches as a shadow falls across him.
From under the floor, Newt looks up through a grating, seeing the Queen above her.
The Queen looks down.
Her massive, skeletal hand tears the floor-grating up. Newt bolts.
Newt scurries along under the floor. The Queen pulls up another grating and reaches down.
> Another grate comes up, Newt scuttles away, but there is nowhere to run.
The massive door rises. The Queen whips around.
Ripley, strapped into the giant yellow power-loader.
She raises the claws in challenge.
Ripley raises the claws above her head.
The Queen charges. Ripley raises the industrial claw high, and belts the Queen with a massive right hook.
[FAST] The Queen spins back and Ripley sweeps her into a pile of crates.
The Queen charges, mouth open, razor-sharp teeth glittering. Ripley catches her neck in the pincer claw.
At close quarters, Ripley and the Queen struggle, neither able to manoeuver.
The Queen's massive tail whips around and lashes at Ripley.
... but deflects off the roll-cage.
The Queen frees herself, backing off.
They dance around each other, looking for an opening.
Ripley tries a swipe, but the Queen avoids the loader's awkward movements.
Ripley taps a command into the loader's keypad.
The massive loading-lock doors in the floor open.
The Queen rushes Ripley, who catches her by the neck.
[FAST] > Inches from Ripley, the Queen opens her mouth, and the inner-jaws shoot out.
Ripley dodges and keys the loader's blowtorch.
Ripley, gripping the Queen, pivots to hold her over the pit in the floor.
She releases the Queen --
-- but the Queen drags her down.
The loader and the queen fall two stories into the bottom of the airlock.
Ripley works the buckles on the restraints.
The Queen, pinned under the loader, thrashes.
Ripley frees herself and climbs the rungs on the side of the airlock.
> The Queen's hand snakes out.
She snags Ripley's ankle. Ripley grips tightly to the rungs.
On a panel next to her, she pulls a large lever.
The outer-doors open onto space. The air condenses into a stream as it's sucked away.
Newt and Bishop are both dragged across the floor by the gale.
The power-loader is sucked out. The Queen grips Ripley, who locks her arm around a rung.
Ripley grimaces, holding tight against the buffeting wind and the thrashing alien.
Ripley's shoe slips off, and the Queen loses her grip.
The creature thrashes helplessly in space.
Rung by rung, Ripley climbs against the onrushing air.
Newt slides towards the pit.
Bishop, holding on with one hand, snags Newt with the other.
Ripley claws herself up and heaves herself over the rim.
A crate flies past, and is sucked out, spinning away into the void.
Hand over hand Ripley hauls herself forward.
She opens a panel in the floor adjacent to the lock and stabs a button.
Both sets of massive doors start to close.
Exhausted, Ripley rolls over.
She sees Bishop holding onto Newt and crawls over to them.
She touches Newt and they embrace.
She stands, lifting Newt. They hold each other tightly.
Bishop, his face caked in white fluid, smiles.
Later, Newt is clean with brushed hair.
She looks down at Bishop and Hicks each in a hypersleep pod.
The pods seal closed.
Ripley in a grey singlet and underpants, sets the controls for their sleep.
She shepherds Newt to another pod.
Newt gets in, and sits up.
Ripley points to Newts chest, and then surprises her with a "made-you-look". Newt smiles.
Later, the lights are down, and Newt is sleeping in the pod, Ripley behind her in the next.
Fade to black.
Independent audio description written by Brett Coulstock, 2023 Performed by (NAME) Credits appear: Ripley, Sigourney Weaver Newt, Carrie Henn Corporal Hicks, Michael Biehn Burke, Paul Reiser Bishop, Lance Henriksen Private Hudson, Bill Paxton Lieutenant Gorman, William Hope Private Vasquez, Jenette Goldstein Sergeant Apone, Al Matthews Private Drake, Mark Rolston Private Frost, Ricco Ross Corporal Ferro, Colette Hiller Private Spunkmeyer, Daniel Kash Corporal Dietrich, Cynthia Scott Private Crowe, Tip Tipping Private Wierzbowski [PRN: Wiz-bow-Ski], Trevor Steedman Van Leuwen, Paul Maxwell ECA Rep, Valerie Colgan Insurance Man, Alan Polonsky Med Tech, Alibe Parsons Doctor, Blain Fairman Cocooned Woman, Barbara Coles Alien Warrior, Carl Toop Power Loader Operator, John Lees Newt's Mother , Holly De Jong Newt's Brother, Christopher Henn Newt's Father, Jay Benedict Lydecker, William Armstrong Simpson, Mac McDonald Original Alien design by H.R Giger [PRN: Ghee-ger, rhymes with 'eager'] Conceptual Designer, Ron Cobb Conceptual Artist, Syd Mead Copyright 1986 by Twentieth Century Fox Film corporation, All Rights Reserved.