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PARKER: Can I finish my coffee? . . . It's the only thing good on this ship.


Dallas makes his way to the computer room corridor and inserts a card key in a computer wall to gain access.


INT. COMPUTER ROOM ANNEX: Floor to ceiling data banks. Dallas enters and sits at his console.


Dallas punches up a computer code on the keyboard. Legend on the screen.

DALLAS: Good morning, Mother.


Dallas punches up a combination on the keyboard.


INT. BRIDGE: The room is ringed by viewscreens. Ash, Kane, Ripley, and Lambert now all dressed; they find their way to individual consoles. The crew members begin throwing switches. The control room starts to come to life. Colored lights flicker. Chase each other across glowing screens.

RIPLEY: Right.


KANE: Okay. . . Plug us in.

Lambert presses a bank of switches. Viewscreens glimmer into life.


ASH: Thank you.


On each screen, blackness speckled with stars.

LAMBERT: Where's Earth?


KANE: You should know.

RIPLEY: That's not our system.


KANE: Scan.

Lambert hits several toggles. On the screens the images begin to drift. A moving image of a starfield displays on one of the screens.

KANE: Contact traffic control.


The Factory Starship lumbering with the depths of inter-stellar space. Function: Petroleum tanker and Refinery.
Capacity: 20 million tons. Length: One and one half kilometers. Battered exterior encrusted with dark sludge.

Ripley switches on her transmission unit.


RIPLEY V.O.: This is commercial towing vehicle Nostromo out of the Solomons. Registration number 1809-er24609-er. Do you read me. Over.

Nothing but the hiss of static. She repeats the call.

RIPLEY O.S.: Nothing.

KANE O.S.: Keep trying.

RIPLEY V.O.: Calling. . . Antartica traffic control, do you read me . . .over. This is commercial towing vehicle Nostromo. Registration number 1809-er24609-er calling Antartica traffic control, do you read me . . . over.


LAMBERT: I found it. . . We haven't reached the outer rim yet.

KANE: Hard to believe.


LAMBERT: What the hell are we doing out here.

KANE: I don't know. What the hell are you talking about?


RIPLEY: That's not our system.

LAMBERT: I know that!


INT. OILY CORRIDOR - "C" LEVEL: Giant reactor system purring smoothly.

PARKER: Listen, you ever noticed how they never come down here? I mean this is where the work is, right?


BRETT: Hard to say. Same reason we have half a share to their one, our time is their time, that's the way they see it, it's the same old shit, man.

PARKER: But I'm asking you why they don't come down here. I think it's because of you, you're the one that has no personality.


INT. MESS: Entire crew present.

PARKER: (to Ash) Uh, that would be my seat.

ASH: Yes of course.

PARKER: (to Dallas) What's happening now, baby?

DALLAS: Well, Some of you may have figured out we're not home yet, we're only half way there.


PARKER: What?

DALLAS: Mother's interrupted the course of our journey.

KANE: Why?

DALLAS: She's programmed to do that should certain conditions arise . . . they have.

RIPLEY O.S.: Like what?

DALLAS: Seems she has intercepted a transmission of unknown origin. She got us up to check it out.






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