Vanilla Velvet Audio Script: Stranded in Space With Your Tsundere Crush! (Patreon)

I'm back with the script, finally! Sorry it took so long. I wrote this one in a single sitting over a couple of hours, so there was a lot of shorthand and terrible formatting. It took a lot of clean-up to make it readable to anyone outside my own head. 💀 The audio is already up, so you can listen to it and read along if you like!

NOTES ON THE WRITING PROCESS: 

Since this script was based on a Patron request, there were certain elements I wanted to include. In case you missed it, that prompt (from TheYounglingSlayer!) was this:

Taking care of your crew mate after a crash-landing on an unknown planet. [Tsundere energy] [crew mates to friends+] [Sci-fi] [healing her wounds] [Reverse comfort] ["maybe I like you a little bit..."] [jungle ambience]

After narrowly surviving a crash-landing on an unfamiliar planet, you search the wreckage for any surviving crew members. After finding the only other survivor, you see she's in rough shape and a whole lot of pain. She begrudgingly accepts your assistance and eventually even warms up to you, but she'd never admit it!

I’ve actually always loved working from prompts, which I think I’ve mentioned  before? I just find it fun to puzzle out how to get pre-determined pieces to fit together and this was no exception.

That said, if I have a weakness when it comes to taking on challenges and prompts, it’s that I especially like to try and subvert expectations while still sticking as closely as possible to the requested elements. I think it’s nice to deliver what was asked for with some surprises attached. Is that weird?

Sometimes, as was the case with this script, the storyline even manages to surprise me. This was originally going to be a fairly straightforward hurt/comfort storyline, I didn’t intend for it to have a twisty ending with the thrust of past relationship conflict and an exterior threat, but the idea of the listener being a fugitive fell into my head about three quarters of the way through scripting and I had to backtrack to incorporate it because I liked it so much. 

(If I have any real advice to give as a writer, it's gotta be "remain flexible." Don't get married to a plot when something else comes along! Sometimes you get ambushed by another idea halfway through the story. Always be ready to pounce on it!)

If TheYounglingSlayer doesn't mind, I might make this script available on the ASMR script haven, though I don't know how good the odds are that it'll be filled. Sci-fi audios just aren't produced very often! And this is a long one to boot--3300 words and change! So idk how successful it would be out there. Still, I love it and wouldn't mind sharing it someday. :)

THE ELEVATOR PITCH/HOOK:

Summary for the Speaker(s): You are the first officer of the cargo ship Galatea, which was transporting people in cryogenic stasis. Your ship was attacked by space pirates but you managed to escape aboard a shuttlecraft with one of the cryopods. Now you’ve crash landed on an uncharted planet and the pod has started malfunctioning! It’s up to you to keep the person inside alive, but it turns out they’re an old friend from your past and they’ve just brought a heap of trouble with them. Your day is about to go from bad to worse.

Summary for the Listener: She’s the one that got away: the only girl to ever turn you down. This starship commander was too smart to fall for you but now you're stuck together on an uncharted planet! Could this be your second chance?

CHARACTER NOTES:

This script has three vocal roles, one main and two supporting. The two supporting roles are small enough that one voice actor could play them (I did!), or they’d make perfect short cameos for other VAs! The roles are, in order of appearance:

COMMANDER MARCH: A no-nonsense tsundere starship commander. Easily frustrated, slightly flirty with the listener but in denial about it.

COMPUTER: A robotic-sounding computer with malfunctioning vocal recognition.

AD VOICEOVER: A cheery phantom voice that chirps an ad, oblivious to the emergency situation unfolding on the shuttle.

Let's get to it!

Stranded in Space With Your Tsundere Crush!

Setting: Interior, a space shuttle stranded on an alien planet.

[Static]

COMMANDER MARCH: (line picks up in the middle of a word as though the computer has just begun recording) --puter, begin recording.

COMPUTER: (robotically) I did not understand that command. Please try again. Remember to speak slowly and clearly.

COMMANDER MARCH:  Computer, begin recording. (rising frustration) I said begin recording, god damn it. Begin recording. Begin recording!

[A bang; Commander March attended the Brute Force school of engineering]

Are you malfunctioning because of the crash?

(under her breath) Why am I even asking. You’re a point-two model; a hoverboard has a more sophisticated AI than you do.

Leave it to Omni Corp to [bang] cheap out [bang bang] on the [bang] escape shuttles.

[beep]

COMPUTER: Recording.

COMMANDER MARCH:  Oh sure! Now you start—ugh.

Fine.

(clearing throat)

Commander Roxanne March reporting, assigned to the CS Division, Omni Corporation, Headquarters Earth.

First officer’s log. Stardate...unknown. The escape shuttle chronometer is malfunctioning (under breath) like everything else in this hunk of junk.

(Return to normal tone) I was knocked unconscious by the impact of the shuttle crash; I’m unsure how long I was out. (a hiss of pain, like she’s touching an injury) The medical scanner is down and I’m not exactly a medic, but given the size of the knot on my head, I’m going to guess my brain is pretty rattled.

I repaired a few superficial injuries with the Dermal Knitter upon waking, but there’s no telling how much blood I lost before then. I’m woozy so probably quite a bit.

The computer is running a series of calculations to determine the date, my current location and whether the planet’s surface is hostile to human life. Unfortunately, its computational power leaves much to be desired. The results could take days at this rate. If I have days.

My ship, the CS Galatea, was ambushed and commandeered by a boarding party of Mantinoid raiders. I have reason to suspect they had an inside man in my crew but I don’t suppose that matters much. Either way, Omni Corp will write off the loss for a big fat tax break.

Safe to say the Galatea has been stripped of everything that wasn’t nailed down and scuttled by now; Mantinoids are like locusts. It’s a damn shame. For an antique, she was a good little freighter. I’ll miss her retro charm.

(Slight sadness, reluctance) Captain Axford went down with the ship, as his contract with Omni Corp demanded. Personal note: He was a good man. (beat) Not a very good captain, but a good man. End personal note. Redact and encrypt.

My condolences to Captain Axford’s family back on Rynoria 7. I understand he leaves fifty-seven widows and hundreds of children.

Needless to say, most of the Galatea’s shipment was lost. However, the contents of freight bay four were split between escape shuttles. Luckily, Mantinoid pirates have little interest in organic cargo or starting a war with the Terran Alliance. 

Our surviving crew was allowed to disembark without incident. Nineteen crewmen survived the initial assault, out of a complement of thirty-two, myself included. Our remaining numbers were split into eight shuttles and launched into space.

The escape shuttle Icarus launched from the Galatea with four souls aboard: Hoffman, Kelly, Petrov and myself. The Icarus immediately suffered a series of malfunctions. The end result is: the Icarus crashed.  (bitter chuckle)  Fittingly enough.

(beat)

I am the only remaining survivor.

(beat)

Well, if you don’t count the cargo.

[Insistent beeping, the ship is malfunctioning again]

Ugh!

[bang bang]

(Frantic)  C’mon, cmon.

[typing, punching buttons]

[beeping ceases]

Whew. (another bitter chuckle-huff) Though I may not be the only survivor for long if systems continue to shut down. Life support is stable for now, but who knows how long that will last?

The organic recycler is still functional. It’s working its gruesome magic on my deceased crewmates. Soon their bodies will be nothing more than a matter slurry fit for recomposition. (bitter, dark chuckle) 

Funny, Ensign Kelly always said he wanted to treat me to a traditional Irish dinner. He’ll finally get his wish, though not quite the way he intended. Waste not, want not, as Omni Corp says.

I—personal note: I’m in pretty rough shape. The cockpit is starting to get a little swimmy. I’m joking about eating my crewmates. That’s got to be the head injury talking. 

Christ, I should have stayed on earth, gone into sanitation engineering like my parents. But oh no, steady union job wasn’t good enough for me, just had to go into space. Had to see the stars. Had to take a shit job with the evilest company in the galaxy and become a high tech cannibal. Might as well have signed up with Weylund Yutani or Cyberdyne; at least they’d have paid top dollar for my soul.

Oh, who am I kidding, they wouldn’t have.

(beat)

Ugh, no, pull it together, Roxie. You still need this job. End personal note. Redact and encrypt. No.  Erase. Erase last personal note.

The Icarus maintenance logs indicate that four previously scheduled system inspections were never performed. Hard to say if the Galatea’s engineering crew was cutting corners of their own volition. It’s equally likely orders came down from Omni Corp’s engineering division to reduce costs. It’s been a few years since a freighter of the Galatea’s particular vintage has been attacked and stripped for parts. They might not have seen the use in making sure the escape shuttles were still up to snuff. Lucky me.

A cursory glance through the logs also indicates there was also supposed to be a retrofit to bring the Icarus up to code with the newest operational guidelines from earth. By my admittedly slapdash and slightly concussed calculations, it falls far short of the computing power it needs to function properly. The software has been updated, the hardware has not. It took shutting down a few systems just to get the distress beacon to launch--and that’s on top of the systems that failed.

So. That’s where we are. Sole survivor, gonna eat my crewmates, multiple system failures. And my brain, having sloshed up against my skull, feels like much.

I’m living on borrowed time. At least the materializer is still working, and its power source is self sustaining, so I won’t starve to death. For awhile. There’s a pot of coffee with my name on it, as a matter of fact.

[Warning signals/bells/klaxons]

Oh, god damn it! What now?

[typing, punching buttons] Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. No, no no no no! You cannot fail! The cryosystem cannot fail! Come on, you stupid ice cube, you have one job and that’s to stay frozen!

[Mechanical hissing, cryostasis chamber opening] Fuck!

Computer! What is the room temperature necessary to maintain integrity of the cargo?

COMPUTER: I did not understand that command.

COMMANDER MARCH: Oh, of course you fucking didn’t! Computer: cryochamber operating manual search, cross reference. Power failure, emergency ejection, humanoid, environmental temperature, fatal shock. Result!

AD VOICEOVER: Thank you for choosing Omni Corp, the industry leader in Cryostasis innovation, storage and transport. Whether you subscribe to our silver, gold or platinum storage tiers, we know you’ll be satisfied with your Omni Corp Cryochamber!

COMMANDER MARCH: Oh for fuck’s sake! Forget the sales pitch!

Computer, increase cargo area temperature to twenty-six degrees, Celsius.

COMPUTER: I did not understand that command.

COMMANDER MARCH:  Ugh! Fine! I’ll do it myself!

[beeps]

(aside, as though to herself) Blankets, blankets, blankets, come on. Avoid shock, warm fluids, uh….what’s next? C’mon, think! I’m not prepared for this! I’m an officer, not a doctor!

[chamber opening noises, the alarms stop blaring]

(Trying to sound comforting)  Okay, hey, hey, it’s okay—it’s okay, I’ve got you. Here, here let me wrap you up.

Shh, shh, I know, I know—here, the cryo-gel is pretty thick. Let me clean off your face so you can breathe—hey! Ow! Whoof! Quite a grip you’ve got there, chief. I’m trying to help you, okay? I promise, I’m not going to hurt you, just let me… (trailing off)

(shock) My god. It can’t be. You?! Lieutenant? Do you recognize me? Here, let me get the cryo-gel out of your eyes.

Hi! It’s me. Do you remember me? You must remember me. Ensign Roxanne March. Well, Commander now, but you wouldn’t know that. We worked together on the SSE Relentless?

We haven’t seen each other in—I can’t believe—what on earth are you doing in cryostasis?

…

Oh, ha, ha, very funny. I know we’re in space. Y’know, sarcasm lands better when your teeth aren’t chattering. Oh, god. Of all the cryochambers in the galaxy, why the hell did you wind up in mine?

No, no! It’s not that I’m not glad to see you, of course I missed you, I mean it’s been nine years, it’s—oh, I wish this were under better circumstances. Fuck!

Well, might as well rip the Band-Aid off. Welcome back to the land of the living! I’ve got bad news and I’ve got worse news. Which one do you want first?

…

All right. The bad news: you’ve been prematurely ejected from stasis, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. That’s going to be rough for awhile. Here, let me get you some coffee. You’ll need to warm up.

[coffee pouring] Sip it slow, I don’t want you going into shock.

So I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but now for the worse news: you’re in an escape shuttle. Currently crash landed on an uncharted planet—at least I think it’s uncharted, the navigation systems are on the fritz so I don’t know for sure—and the shuttle is rapidly losing power. If we’re lucky, we’ve got a month’s worth. Unlucky? A week. Maybe.

What’s the good news? What are you talking about? There is no good news.

...

The good news is we’re together? Oh nice try, sleeping beauty, but it’s not going to work. You can put that cheesy old line back in the mothballs where it belongs. That shit didn’t work on me over three bottles of Alnornian Wine, it’s not going to work in a survival situation.

Don’t give me that look, Lieutenant. Your charm won’t get us out of this one, as much as I wish it could. Besides, you’re not thinking straight. Even if I was interested, I’m not going to put the moves on  a recovering Popsicle whose higher brain functions haven’t thawed yet. Never mind my own concussion.

(hiss of pain) Ow! Hey, don’t poke that! Yeah, I’ve got a head injury. What about it?

...

Well, if you’re worried about it, don’t poke it. God, you haven’t changed one bit!

You can fix it? Since when? Are you sure? Ow! Well. All right. Here, a medkit. I don’t how how much help it’ll be, but…

Oof, careful. That hurts.

Don’t apologize, just be more careful.

Oh, you mean you’re sorry about all this? Oh,don’t be silly. You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not your fault the damn cryochamber went on the fritz. It’s not your fault the shuttle crashed, or my ship got raided. You’re as much a victim here as I am. Keep your sorries.

COMPUTER: Planetoid surface scan complete. Do you want the results?

COMMANDER MARCH: Oh, shit. I thought that would take a few hours. (to the computer)Yes, please!

COMPUTER: I did not understand that command.

COMMANDER MARCH:  (frustrated) Oh for—

(to the listener) I don’t suppose you know anything about fixing a point-two model’s vocal recognition program do you?

…

Yeah, I was afraid of that.

(clearing throat, being needlessly crisp and proper with pronunciation)

Computer, what are the results of the planetary scan?

COMPUTER: Atmosphere: oxygen rich. Environment: Temperate. Plant species: estimated ten percent non-toxic to human life. Inhabitants: tier four life forms.

COMMANDER MARCH:  Tier four, tier four. That’s...no technological sophistication detected?

COMPUTER: Correct.

COMMANDER MARCH:  Well, that’s not nothing, but just because whatever’s out there doesn’t have tools doesn’t mean it can’t kill us. Venomous space bugs, alien jaguars, whatever. And no technological sophistication means no villages to trade with or ruins to loot for supplies.

Computer, closest earth biome approximation in your database to immediate area around the shuttle?

COMPUTER: Subtropical rain forest.

COMMANDER MARCH: Water?

COMPUTER: I did not understand that command.

COMMANDER MARCH:  (stilted, irritated) Is. There. Water.

COMPUTER: Shuttle water reserves--

COMMANDER MARCH:  On the planet’s surface, you— (frustrated noises)

(crisply, obviously annoyed) Computer, is there potable water on the planet’s surface?

COMPUTER: Affirmative.

COMMANDER MARCH:  (slightly hysterical chuckling)

I can’t believe it! Finally a stroke of luck. Water, oxygen, edible plant life. We might not die here after all. Or, if we do, at least it won’t be right away! So long as the materializer doesn’t break down, we could stay pretty comfortable here.

 We might even be able to synthesize the materials to repair the shuttle if we can recycle enough matter from the planet’s surface. It might take a few months, but...well, let’s hope someone picks up on the distress beacon before then, huh?

I should call you my good luck charm, Lieutenant. I know your day is going terribly but things were looking pretty dire before you woke up and scared the bejesus out of me.

(beat)

Listen, let me get you a uniform. That stasis suit can’t be comfortable, being all damp and clingy like that.

…

I was not looking. I was not! Get your mind out of the gutter.

(beat)

Here. Put that on. Yes, the top too. I know it’s a jungle out there, but none of that “You Tarzan, me Jane” business, okay?

Here, I’ll turn around to give you some privacy.

(awkward silence for a short bit)

So! You never did tell me what you were doing in stasis. Last I heard, you were working your way up the ranks on the USS Albatross.

…

Well, yeah I looked you up sometimes. Out of curiosity. I like to check up on my former crewmates on occasion. Especially the ones who owe me credits.

…

Yes you do.

…

Yes you do. Four hundred and thirty seven credits and forty-six bits. My farewell poker game, remember? Before I transferred back to earth? You wrote me an IOU. On paper, no less, like some kind of Luddite. I still have it. Somewhere. Or, I did, anyway.

Oh, shut up.I’m not sentimental. You’ve just got a case of wishful thinking.

(beat)

You know, back when we worked together, I never did understand why you set your cap at me. What with so many other ensigns falling into your lap.

…

Oh! Uh huh, sure, they weren’t as pretty as me. You are so full of crap. You just liked that I played hard to get.

...

No, you’re right. Impossible to get. (chuckle) Well, how else was I supposed to keep you interested long enough to pick your pockets at poker, huh?

(beat)

No. Don’t let the whole “being marooned together on a planet” go to your head, buddy. I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation before. As I recall, we decided it couldn’t work between us. Remember? It was a mutual decision?

You wanted to settle down, climb the ranks on one ship, and I wanted to travel the stars, getting into all sorts of mischief.

(beat)

So. You ever gonna answer the question about cryostasis? If you think you can distract me with compliments, it won’t work. I’ve heard all your lines before. Now, spill it.

…

Yeah, I know where the pods were going. The colonies on the outer rim. Don’t tell me you’re giving up the glamour of space travel for farm labor?

...

What? Agorix? That’s—but the only thing on Agorix is a penal colony. You going to be a warden? I mean I wouldn’t blame you, I hear the pay’s pretty good. It’d have to be, to get anyone to keep an eye on the worst scum in the sector out in the middle of nowhere.

...

(surprise, upset) Oh my god. Listen, I know you always bent the rules, but prison? What did you do?

It doesn’t matter? Like hell it doesn’t! For all I know you blew up a planet! I mean, I’d like to think you wouldn’t and I’d like to think Omni Corp wouldn’t put a genocidal maniac on ice in their cheapest transport without a security detail, but you and I both know it can’t be ruled out. Now, tell me what you did!

(beat)

That’s all? For that you’re sentenced to the outer rim? No one gets sentenced to the outer rim for petty crimes like that! For how long?

…

Life?

I gotta sit down.

Look, if this is true—if you’re not just yanking my chain and I hope you are just yanking my chain—who did you piss off? Sending you to the outer rim for something that wouldn’t even get you ten years on earth? That’s disproportionate retribution if ever I’ve heard of it. It’s got the stink of judicial corruption written all over it.

COMPUTER: An unidentified vessel has entered the planet’s atmosphere. Communication relay is being hailed.

COMMANDER MARCH:  What? A vessel? That doesn’t make any sense; the distress beacon hasn’t even been out there for an hour. Nobody could have gotten here in such a short amount of time, not even with hyperdrive.

...

Your ride’s here? What the hell do you mean, your ride is here?

(realization) Oh. Oh my god! The Mantinoid raiders! They were working for you, weren’t they? You had the inside man on the Galatea. That’s why they let us leave with the cargo. You!

This is a jail break, isn’t it? Or a prison transport break, anyway. And now I’m an accomplice!

…

You didn’t know it’d be my freighter you’d be transported on? Well, that’s pretty cold comfort, buddy! My ship and her captain are lost, more than a dozen of my crewmates are dead, and now you’re going to leave me stranded, alone, on an uncharted world?

...

Come with you? (disbelieving laughter) Are you crazy? What are you suggesting, I go on the run with a fugitive? C’mon, get real! I can’t do that! I have a life out there. It’s not a very good one, but it’s mine! And it doesn’t have intergalactic authorities breathing down my neck.

…

Well—yeah. Yeah, I’ll never get back to my life if I die on this rock but...

…

(sigh, relenting) Better on the run than sitting still, waiting for rescue that might never come. Fine. I guess you have a point, there but....

(gentle scolding, wanting to stay mad but charm is working) Don’t give me that. Don’t! No! Don’t give me the dimples and the twinkle in the eye. I’m still mad at you. I could have been killed! Some of my friends were!

Well, coworkers anyway, I didn’t really like them much. And while that part’s technically Omni Corp’s fault for skimping on shuttle maintenance, it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t orchestrated this crazy scheme. But—

(beat)

(sigh, like she can't believe she's doing this) Fine. Fine! I’ll come with you. I’ll come with you because I’ve lost my mind! But don’t start getting ideas that I’ll settle into being a gun moll or whatever. You can drop me off at the nearest refueling station. I won’t rat you out, but I won’t help you, either.

(beat)

Oh, that’s your ride, huh? Some ride. Looks like it’s seen better days.

No. There’s nothing I need to take with me. But—(sigh)—hold on.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Helping cover your god damn tracks like some kind of...

Computer? End log. Erase. Commence shutdown.

[beeping]

[static]

COMPUTER: ICARUS is back online.

COMMANDER MARCH: (her voice is glitching, indicating the entire audio will become a recording that the computer failed to erase) Computer? End log. Erase. Commence shutdown. Com-com-computer. End log. Erase. Commence shutdown.

COMPUTER: (robotically) I did not understand that command. Please try again. Remember to speak slowly and clearly.