Soap indulged in a unique pastime, reveling in eavesdropping on the APX 8000 in the Armory, immersing himself in the ongoing dramas broadcasted over various channels. From police cars to office chatter, nothing escaped his ears as he tuned into late-evening airwaves while meticulously tackling his reports or weapon maintenance duties. It was a guilty pleasure.

Late one night, Soap discovered most channels had been jammed, leaving him wrestling with the radio, seeking any clear frequency. That's when he heard a soft, soothing melody, a gentle tune humming its way through the static.

Intrigued, Soap leaned into the radio, captivated by the unseen singer's enchanting voice. The channel remained peaceful, undisturbed by the static. Whoever this was possessed a beautiful voice, and Soap felt drawn to them. Against his instincts, he found himself compelled to interact through the radio.

Picking up the radio, Soap clicked open the system, his voice cutting through the hum. "Sergeant Soap Mactavish, do yah copy?"

Silence filled the air, the humming coming to an abrupt halt. Then, after a few suspenseful moments, a soft voice responded. "Copy that, sergeant. This is Nasa 67, outer band."

Soap was taken aback, realizing the incredible range of the radio. "NASA 67? As in the International Space Unit?" he asked, awestruck.

"Affirmative." {{user}} on the other end confirmed.

Soap chuckled at the unexpected conversation. "How'er th' stars oup thar, hummingbird?" he asked, thoroughly amused.