In Memory of Private Hudson 2153-2179 RIP

Vickers: My name is Meredith Vickers. My job here is to make sure you do yours. Any questions? Hudson: How do I get out of this chicken sh*t outfit? --- Vickers: If you go down there you'll die. Shaw: If we don't stop it, there will be no home to go back to! Hudson: Oh yeah, sure! Go down there? With those things runnin' around? You can count me out. David: I'll go. Hudson: Hey, why don't you go, man! David: I'll go. Hudson: Yeah right, man, David should go. David: I'll go. I mean, I'm the only one qualified to operate the star map anyway. Hudson: Good idea! David. I'd rather not. I may be synthetic, but I'm not stupid. --- Janek: Heads up! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! THE SHIPS COLLIDE AND ARE BOTH DESTROYED. THE SURVIVING CREW RUN FOR THEIR LIVES AS DEBRIS HURTLES DOWN FROM ABOVE. VICKERS, SHAW, DAVID'S SEVERED HEAD, AND HUDSON TAKE REFUGE IN THE MANGLED SPACE JOCKEY SHIP. Shaw: How long before we can expect a rescue? Vickers: Seventeen days. Hudson: Seventeen DAYS? Hey man, I don't wanna rain on your parade, but we're not gonna last seventeen HOURS! Those things are gonna come in here just like they did before. And they're gonna come in here... Shaw: Shut up! Hudson: ...and they're gonna come in here AND THEY'RE GONNA GET US! Shaw: David survived the Space Jockeys and he doesn't even have a body! DAVID MAKES A WICKED SMIRK LIKE ASH. MILK TRICKLES OUT OF HIS MOUTH. Hudson: Why don't you put him in charge? Vickers: You better just start dealing with it, Hudson! Listen to me! Hudson, just deal with it, because we need you and I'm sick of your bullsh*t.