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INT. READY ROOM - ARMORY: Vasquez, Drake and Frost are field-stripping light weapons with precise movements. Around them, in racks, are an arsenal of advanced personal artillery.


Vasquez swings one of the Smart-Guns out on a work stand. It is a computer-aimed, video-targeted automatic weapon. Drake imitates her moves behind her with his own weapon.


INT. LOADING BAY: The Drop-Ship engines pitch increases as it is readied for flight.


Ferro and Spunkmeyer take their seats in the cockpit. Ripley stands in front of it, watching. Burke joins her.


A massive APC, Armored Personnel Carrier, crosses the loading deck. It pulls up beside the Drop-Ship.


INT. READY ROOM - ARMORY: The troopers are suiting up for the drop. Strapping on their bulky combat armor.

APONE: Alright, squad. We're a team and there's nothing to worry about. We come here, we gonna' conquer, and we're gonna' kick some. Is that understood?

ALL TROOPERS: Yes, sir!

APONE: Thatís what were going do, sweethearts. We are going to go and get some. Alright people, on the ready-line! Are you lean?!

ALL TROOPERS: YEAH!!

APONE: Are you mean?!


ALL TROOPERS: YEAH!!

APONE: WHAT ARE YOU?!

ALL TROOPERS: LEAN, MEAN MARINES!!

APONE: WHAT ARE YOU?!

ALL TROOPERS: We're Marines!!

APONE: Hudson! Get on the ready line, Marines! Get some today! Get on the ready line!

WIERZBOWSKI: YO!


APONE: Move it out! Move it out, goddamn it! Ten, hut! One, two, three! Come on! Get out! Get out! Get out! Move it out! Move it out! Move it out! Move it out! Move it out! Move it out! One, two, three, four! One, two, three!

All the soldiers are filing up to the door of the APC. Apone verbally pushing them the entire way.

APONE (growls approvingly) Absolutely badassess! Let's pack 'em in! Get in there!


INT. / EXT. APC: The line of soldiers double time into the APC. They find their seats and begin strapping in.

APONE: Alright! Move it! Go on! One, two, three, four, five, six!

HICKS: Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!

APONE: Alright, I won't combat seating. You know your places.

Ripley comes in and looks around at the melee of activity. She quickly finds a seat.


APONE: Get those weapons stowed. Let's go! Come on, settle down people.

Gorman takes control of the Mobile Tactical Operations Bay (MTOB). Checking out all the monitors.

APONE: Lock 'em in, Hudson!

HUDSON: Ready to get it on, you know it!

GORMAN: Okay, Bishop. Let's go.

BISHOP: (into headset) Roger.


Bishop engages the throttle and drives the APC up a ramp into the Drop-Ship.

HUDSON: I'm ready, man. Ready to get it on! Yo!


Hudson slaps the up-raised hand of a fellow trooper Vasquez The APC comes to a stop on the ramp. It is lifted up into the belly of the Drop-Ship as the ramp closes. Hicks and Gorman lock into their seats.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT: Ferro sets the drop controls in the cockpit. Everyone in the APC can hear her over the speakers.


EXT. / INT. DROP-SHIP

FERRO: Stand by. Cross locking now. Pre-launch auto-cycle engaged. Primary couplers released. Hit the internals.

The ship is lowered into a cargo lock on a massive launch rig. It comes to a jolting stop and locks into position. Ripley looks nervous.

HUDSON: Oh shit, man.

FERRO: Confirmed cross lock and drop stations secured.


GORMAN: Affirmative. All drop stations secured.

EXT. DROP-SHIP: The cargo lock's inner door closes above the ship, sealing the Drop-Ship in the blackness of the lock, except for a solitaire blue Klaxton that plays over the ship.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT

FERRO: Stand-by, ten seconds.


Looking through the cockpit windows, we see the outer doors of the cargo lock open below the Drop-Ship. Revealing the blue, cloud strewn surface of LV-426.

FERRO: Stand-by to initiate release sequencer...on my mark. Five, four, three,...


INT. HOLD - APC: CLOSE-UP OF HUDSON.

HUDSON: We're on the express elevator to Hell. Going down.

Ripley looks very nervous.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT

FERRO: ...two, one. Mark.


EXT. DROP-SHIP: Clamps slam back. The ship drops.


INT. HOLD - APC: CLOSE-UP OF HUDSON.

HUDSON: (yelling) Wooooooooeeeeeee!

Ripley closes her eyes...the point of no return.


EXT. DROP-SHIP - SPACE: The Drop-Ship dives toward the atmosphere of Archeron. It looks like a tiny black mosquito next to the planet. It's engines igniting with a roar of a tiger.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT

FERRO: Switching to DCS ranging.

SPUNKMEYER: Two-four-o. Nominal to profile.

FERRO: We're in the pipe. Five-by-five.


EXT. DROP-SHIP: It screams down through the stratosphere, plunging into masses of white clouds.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT

SPUNKMEYER: We're picking up some hull ionization.

FERRO: Got it. (into headset) Rough air ahead. We're in for some chop.

INT. HOLD - APC / TIGHT ON GORMAN: The shaking of the ship is jolting him around in his seat. He looks very tense and is gripping the chair tightly.

TIGHT ON OTHER TROOPERS: All being bucked wildly in their seat restraints.


EXT. DROP-SHIP: The craft is being bounced around like a balloon caught in a strong air current. It is descending through a very thick, gray cloud layer.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT: Ferro and Spunkmeyer are monitoring the flight controls intensely.

INT. HOLD - APC: Gorman is sitting semi-calmly in his chair. Eyes closed. Ripley looks over at him.


RIPLEY: How many drops is this for you Lieutenant?

GORMAN: Thirty-eight...simulated.

VASQUEZ: How many combat drops?

GORMAN: Uh...two. Including this one.


Vasquez and Drake exchange do-you-believe-this-shit expressions.

DRAKE: Shit.

HUDSON: Oh, man.

Ripley looks accusingly at Burke. Tight on Hicks asleep in his seat harness.

EXT. DROP-SHIP: Still screaming through the extremely dense layer of clouds.

INT. DROP-SHIP - COCKPIT: The Drop-Ship's flight computer screen displays the Archeron landscape below the clouds. The graphics are just lines, but it is easy to tell where the valleys and hills are. The pictures move with the ship.

FERRO: Range zero-one-four. Turning on final.


EXT. DROP-SHIP : It emerges from the low cloud ceiling. The rocky, wind carved landscape of the planet is visible directly below it.

INT. HOLD - APC / TIGHT ON HICKS: Still asleep in his seat.

FROST: But, I'm telling you. I have a bad feeling about this drop.


Hudson is looking around the hold. Scanning the room with his Helmet Camera.

WIERZBOWSKI: You always say that, Frost. You always say, "I have a bad feeling about this drop."

FROST: Okay, okay. When we get back without ya', I'll call your folks.






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