Lieutenant Garion Beckett was lying on his back, elbows deep in an open access panel under one of the consoles in the communications compartment. Tangles of isolinear conduits snaked around his sinewy forearms as he slowly made connections to the jury-rigged Vaadwaur tech that was placed on the floor beside him. Heaving a heavy sigh, he freed his hands from the bowels of the console and wiped them on his duty overalls.

“Ensign, keep an eye on that readout, would you? I’m going to start making the last of the connections now.” He said, turning to the young officer he had selected to assist him. 

“Yes, sir.” she replied, taking a seat and focusing on the screen before her. 

Garion tapped the combadge on his chest. “Computer, begin a log entry.” he said, laying back down under the console. 

Affirmative. Please begin recording at your convenience. Replied the cool, female voice of the computer, mechanically. 

“Chief Engineer’s Log, Stardate 2402.4.” he began, returning his hands to the knot of conduits. “Integration of the Vaadwaur Communications Array we pilfered from the recovered fighter is underway. Frankly, I feel like I’d have had an easier time teaching abstinence to a Tribble. Their system is designed to broadcast through underspace apertures, which is about equivalent to shouting into a black hole and praying someone hears you.” He tightened a junction in the conduit, and a shower of sparks rained down on him, but the Vaadwaur array began to hum with a low resonance. “I’ve had to bypass the main comm relay and install a metaphasic isolytic coupler just to keep the damn waveform from phasing through the bulkheads.” He wiped sweat from his brow, and continued. “It’s like the damn thing wants to exist half a micron to the left of reality. The underspace signals refract, like they refuse to follow the standard subspace linearity, instead curving around normal space. We’re talking real-time FTL data on a signal that rides between layers of the continuum.”

A warning sounded on the monitor, and the Ensign made a small, squeaking noise. “Lieutenant? I’m reading an unstable distortion in the subspace field.” 

“Fuck.” Garion growled, working frantically, “I’m rerouting power through the interphasic buffer grid. That should keep the quantum variance under three millimicrons, which is just enough to keep the hull from tearing holes in itself. Hopefully.” He growled again, “Why the hell did we agree to alien tech again?” 

He lifted his head to look at the Ensign, who was tapping at the console feverishly to stabilize the power readings. “No idea, Sir.” she said through gritted teeth. Then, a wave of relief crossed her face, and she exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. 

Signal acquisition, initializing, said the computer, and Garion dropped his head onto the bulkhead in relief. “Okay, the signal handshake is in progress. I’m using harmonic phase matching to align the corridor aperture with the carrier wave. If my math holds, I should be able to send and receive bursts through underspace at thirty times standard comm velocity. If my math is off…” but he was cut short by the console over him erupting, sending sparks and shards of screen across the communications compartment. The ensign, suddenly bereft of resolve, dove under her console with a shout. “If my math doesn’t hold, I’ve rerouted all non-essential systems, including the Mess Hall. My apologies to Beta Shift.” The Vaadwaur communications array started emitting a high pitched whine, and its lights began pulsing rhythmically in time with the main computer. 

“The signal has stabilized, Lieutenant.” stated the Ensign, who had reluctantly resumed her post in front of the screen.

“Perfect.” Garion said, dropping his arms to the floor and letting out a deep sigh. “The subharmonic alignment seems to be holding. I am opening the transmission channel. To test, we can send a ping to one of the civilian ships nearby. If this works, we should be able to cut through the Vaadwaur blackout.” He stood, and crossed the space to stand behind the ensign. “Go ahead Ensign, send the ping to the Arve Prince.” The Ensign tapped out a short message, and Garion his breath as the ping went out. Silence followed, and for a moment Garion thought it had not worked, but then a reply ping rang out through the compartment. 

“Hell yes!” Garion shouted, pumping his fist in the air and shaking the Ensign’s shoulder triumphantly. “Computer, it looks like it worked. We may have just rewritten the Starfleet Comms playbook. End log.” He crossed the compartment in three strides, and left. 

Captain Bowman was sitting pensively behind his desk, finalizing the details of their rescue plan, when a very dirty and sweaty Chief Engineer shot through the door with a triumphant expression on his face. “Captain, I did it.” He said, breathing heavily as if he had just run here, although the office was right beside the communications compartment. “ I managed to adapt our ship to the Vaadwaur array. We now have the ability to hear their comm traffic.” 

“Excellent work, Lieutenant.” Scott said with a smile. “You may have given us the edge in this operation. Now, I need you to get some rack time. We are six hours out from launching the plan, and it would be beneficial if the Chief Engineer was not dead on his feet.” 

“Aye, Captain.” Garion replied, and left the office. He headed straight to his quarters, and without changing, flopped onto his bed and fell fast asleep. 

The Red Alert klaxon woke Garion suddenly from his sleep. Red flashing lights were strobing in his quarters. He slapped the combadge on his chest. “Captain, what’s going on?”

Scott’s voice, usually poised and calm, sounded slightly panicked. It’s not good, Garion. When we activated that array, we broadcast a signal and the Vaadwaur heard it. They are on their way right now. We need you in Main Engineering right now, because it’s about to go down.