BEN 10: ULTIMATE ALIEN
"Family Frequency"
A Fan-Made Episode Script (Original Story)
COLD OPEN
INT. TENNYSON HOUSE — KITCHEN — EVENING
Warm light, dinner half-eaten on the table. GWEN TENNYSON sits across from her grandmother, VERDONA TENNYSON — who isn't actually there in person, but as a faint, shimmering, slightly translucent projection of pink energy, mid-visit, the way she occasionally drops in.
VERDONA
(warm, breezy)
I'm only stopping through for a moment, sweetie. Just wanted to see my favorite grandchildren before I'm off-world again.
BEN
(mouth full)
We're your only grandchildren.
VERDONA
(unbothered)
Exactly why you're both my favorites.
Gwen's phone buzzes. She glances at it, smile fading slightly.
GWEN
(reading)
That's Dad. He says Grandpa Max hasn't checked in for his scheduled comm window. Twice.
VERDONA
(projection flickering, attention sharpening)
Max missed a check-in?
BEN
(setting down his fork)
Grandpa doesn't miss check-ins. Ever.
Verdona's projection flickers harder, static-edged with concern.
VERDONA
(quieter now)
I was actually heading to check on him myself before I came here. There's... interference near where he was stationed. I couldn't get a clean read.
GWEN
(standing, already grabbing her jacket)
Then we're not waiting for a third missed check-in.
ACT ONE
EXT. REMOTE PLUMBER OUTPOST — MOUNTAIN RIDGE — NIGHT
Wind-scoured rock, a small, half-buried Plumber research outpost built into the mountainside. Its exterior lights flicker erratically. KEVIN LEVIN's car is parked nearby, the three having driven through the night to get here.
KEVIN
(stepping out, scanning the dark ridge)
Comm tower's still standing. Lights are still on. So why do I have a bad feeling about this?
GWEN
(scanning)
Because there's a dense energy field wrapped around this entire outpost. Whatever's interfering with comms isn't a malfunction — it's deliberate.
BEN
(grim, already moving toward the entrance)
Then let's get inside before we find out the hard way what "deliberate" means.
He slaps the Ultimatrix.
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
Green light wraps him. His body slims, sleek and aerodynamic, wings unfurling from his back, eyes narrowing to sharp, predatory slits.
BEN (AS JETRAY)
(voice quick, focused)
Jetray! Fastest way in is over the wall.
He launches skyward, banking hard over the outpost's perimeter fence, scanning rooftops for any sign of entry — and spots it: a section of the outer wall scorched and buckled outward, clearly breached from the inside.
JETRAY
(over comm, tense)
Found a breach. Something got in. Or something got out. Heading in now.
INT. OUTPOST — MAIN CORRIDOR — CONTINUOUS
Jetray swoops through the breach, landing in a crouch inside a dim, flickering corridor. Equipment lies overturned. No bodies. No blood. Just disarray.
Gwen and Kevin catch up through the same breach, weapons and powers readied.
KEVIN
(scanning the wreckage)
Whatever happened here, it happened fast.
GWEN
(kneeling by a fallen scanner panel)
This was a containment readout. Whatever they were monitoring out here, it got loose.
A low, resonant HUM rolls through the corridor — not mechanical, almost organic, pulsing in time with the outpost's flickering lights.
JETRAY
(tense, listening)
That's not Grandpa Max. That's something else.
ACT TWO
INT. OUTPOST — CONTAINMENT CHAMBER — MOMENTS LATER
The source: a cracked containment pod, clearly breached from within, faint violet energy still leaking from its shattered casing. Hovering nearby, coiled and pulsing, is a serpentine, semi-crystalline creature — easily twelve feet long, faceted scales catching the flickering light like broken glass.
MAX TENNYSON is pinned against the far wall — conscious, alive, but clearly exhausted, one arm cradled awkwardly, a faint crystalline residue creeping up his sleeve.
MAX
(weak but sharp)
Don't engage it directly — it doesn't just bite, it crystallizes whatever it touches. I got lucky. Barely.
GWEN
(horrified)
Grandpa—
MAX
(firm despite the pain)
I'm fine. Worry about the part where that thing's about to bolt past us into open mountains full of hiking trails.
The creature shifts, sensing fresh targets, scales catching light in sharp, fractal patterns.
JETRAY
(grim, glancing at the Ultimatrix)
Speed got us in here. Doesn't help much with "don't get crystallized."
He slaps the dial again.
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
Green light. His sleek form thickens, shifts to deep crystalline pink-violet, light refracting oddly across new, faceted skin.
BEN (AS CHROMASTONE)
(calm, resonant)
Chromastone! Okay. Let's see if crystal beats crystal.
The creature lunges, jaws crackling with condensed energy. Chromastone braces, absorbing the impact directly into his own crystalline body, the creature's attack fizzling harmlessly against his light-refractive hide.
CHROMASTONE
(steady)
Yeah. Thought so.
Chromastone redirects the absorbed energy in a controlled beam, not enough to seriously hurt the creature, just enough to startle it back from Max and the others. It recoils, scales flaring brighter, clearly agitated rather than weakened.
GWEN
(helping Max to his feet, scanning)
Ben, it's not actually attacking with intent to kill — every strike's been defensive. It's scared, cornered, lashing out because it doesn't know how else to get free.
MAX
(grimacing, leaning on Gwen)
It was being studied. Quietly. Before tonight, I didn't even know we had something like this in containment.
KEVIN
(absorbing nearby metal plating, wary)
Cornered and scared still crystallized your arm, Max.
MAX
(dryly)
Noted. Still doesn't make it evil.
Chromastone studies the creature's faceted scales, the chaotic light patterns rippling across them — clearly distressed, not malicious.
CHROMASTONE
(thoughtful)
If it's reacting to light and energy that erratically, maybe I need someone who can actually read what it's saying instead of just blocking what it throws.
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
Green light. His form shifts again — taller, slender, a large exposed brain encased in a glass-like dome atop a sharp, insectoid frame.
BEN (AS BRAINSTORM)
(crisp, clipped, slightly pompous)
Brainstorm! Right. Let's apply some actual intellect to this.
He extends a small electromagnetic field from his dome, carefully analyzing the creature's chaotic light-flicker patterns in real time.
BRAINSTORM
(rapid-fire)
Fascinating — its bioluminescent pulses are a direct readout of its stress levels. It's not random. It's panicking faster every time someone gets close, which is, ironically, making it more dangerous to approach, not less.
GWEN
So the more we try to corner it to help it, the worse it gets.
BRAINSTORM
(nodding sharply)
Precisely. Classic feedback loop. We need to lower the perceived threat before getting close, not after.
The creature, sensing the analytical attention without an attack following it, hesitates — coiling tighter, but no longer immediately lashing out.
BRAINSTORM (CONT'D)
(thinking fast)
It needs warmth. Calm, steady, non-threatening warmth — the biological opposite of "crystallizing predator postering at it."
He glances at the Ultimatrix, already flickering.
BRAINSTORM (CONT'D)
Which, conveniently, is not remotely my specialty. Excuse me a moment.
ACT THREE
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
Green light. His sharp, insectoid frame softens into something squat, dark green, and rubbery, small embers flickering gently at his shoulders — calm rather than aggressive.
BEN (AS SWAMPFIRE)
(gentle)
Swampfire. Okay. Let's try slow and warm instead of smart and clinical.
He crouches at a careful distance, letting his shoulder-embers glow low and steady rather than flaring, a soft, non-threatening warmth radiating outward.
SWAMPFIRE
(softly)
Hey. Nobody's cornering you anymore. Just... breathe. Or whatever the crystal equivalent is.
The creature's frantic light-flicker slows, gradually, syncing hesitantly with the steady warmth radiating from him. Its coiled posture loosens, scales dimming from a desperate flare to something softer.
But just as it begins to truly calm, a structural GROAN echoes through the outpost — the damaged containment chamber's ceiling, weakened by the earlier breach, beginning to buckle under the mountain's weight above it.
KEVIN
(looking up, alarmed)
That's not good.
MAX
(grim, still weak)
This whole chamber's about to come down. We need that thing calm AND moving, now, or none of us are walking out of here.
Swampfire glances at the Ultimatrix, flickering rapidly — the pre-Ultimate stutter, faster, more urgent than usual.
SWAMPFIRE
(steadying himself)
Then let's give it a reason to trust me enough to actually move.
[ULTIMATE TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
The Ultimatrix symbol SNAPS open on his chest, deploying glowing mechanical petals. His frame broadens, bark-like plating layering across squat limbs, twin floral blooms igniting at his shoulders with controlled, steady flame.
BEN (AS ULTIMATE SWAMPFIRE)
(deeper, steady)
Ultimate Swampfire.
He extends both arms slowly toward the creature — not grabbing, just offering a clear, stable path toward the breached wall and the open mountainside beyond, his own steady warmth a visible, walkable trail rather than a wall to push past.
ULTIMATE SWAMPFIRE
(calm, urgent but gentle)
This way. Trust the warm path, not the falling ceiling. Go.
The creature, finally fully calm, uncoils and slithers swiftly along the offered path, following Ultimate Swampfire's steady glow out through the breach and into the open night air just as the chamber ceiling finally gives way behind them with a thunderous CRASH.
Dust and debris billow out from the collapsed entrance. A tense beat. Then Ultimate Swampfire emerges from the dust cloud, Max leaning on him, Gwen and Kevin close behind, all coughing but unhurt.
KEVIN
(coughing, looking back at the rubble)
Cutting it a little close there.
ULTIMATE SWAMPFIRE
(setting Max down gently on a nearby rock)
Yeah. Let's call that "appropriately dramatic" instead of "close."
Out on the open ridge, the now-calm creature coils peacefully under the night sky, scales settling into a soft, steady glow, no longer flickering with panic.
TAG SCENE
EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE — LATER
Dawn breaks over the ridge. Plumber medical staff tend to Max's arm — the crystalline residue already fading under treatment — while a properly equipped, much gentler transport crate is prepared for the creature, this time clearly built for comfort rather than sterile containment.
Verdona's shimmering projection flickers back into view nearby, relief plain even through the static.
VERDONA
(to Max, warmly)
You really do attract trouble even when you're "just checking on a quiet outpost."
MAX
(wincing, managing a smile)
Keeps me young.
Ben, back to human, sits nearby with Gwen and Kevin, all three exhausted but steady.
GWEN
(quiet)
For a second back there, I really thought—
BEN
(gently)
Yeah. Me too.
A beat of shared understanding passes between them.
KEVIN
(standing, stretching)
Four aliens in one night, including an Ultimate, just to walk a scared space-snake out of a collapsing building and save Max's arm. Worth it.
BEN
(small, tired smile, glancing at the Ultimatrix — calm, green, ordinary again)
Yeah. Every time, it's worth it.
Verdona's projection lingers a moment longer over the group, warm and quiet, before flickering out as the sun fully rises over the ridge. The three help Max toward the waiting transport as Plumber crews finish securing the now-peaceful creature nearby.
FADE OUT.
END OF EPISODE