Gek Transmission Tower
5 - 14 - 41 - 122 - xxx
input options-> 355 - 365 - 356
Gek Transmission Tower
5040 - 720 - 120 - 24
input options-> 8 - 6 - 12
Descriptions and Input Options
The transmission readout suggests that, long ago, a distress signal went unanswered.
A sequence of numbers has been repeating itself for so long that its imprint is burnt into the screen. An input box flashes at me insistently. If I crack the code, I can find the ship.
99 - 92 - 86 - 81 - XX
Input Options-> 95, 79, 77
An Acoustical beacon can be heard through the operations terminal. it repeats at intervals of 12 seconds.
i feel compelled to work out the pattern of its encrypton, locate the the ship it calls out from... and discover what horror awaits at the crash site.
80 - 71 - 63 - 56 - xx
input options-> 50 - 48 - 49
A faint, but insistent, bleeping noise can be heard from the operations terminal.
A garbled distress call can be heard amongst it all, alongside screams and the tearing of metal. The only thing that's clear to me is a brief number sequence. Cracking its code could lead me to the crash site.
2 - 4 - 12 - 48 - 240 - XXX
Input Options-> 1540, 1440, 1240
Images of shattered Sentinels are displayed like trophies on this terminal screen. Seems the observatory's former overseer had a penchant for hunting these machines.
Perhaps their time would have been better spent monitoring incoming Beacons like the one that flashes on a monitor before me. If I can enter the correct access code perhaps I can discover where it originated from.
4634 - 6344 - 3446 - ****
Input Options-> 4463, 4634, 6344
Images show that this Observatory was once a warzone. Manngled metal, scorched walls and the heavily decayed corpses of a dozen hulking lifeforms betray a brutal firefight.
Now repaired, whatever transpired it must have happened before the Beacon that flashes on screen arrived. Perhaps if I enter the correct code I can decipher it.
3987 - 9873 - 8739 - ****
Input -> 9873, 3987, 7398
A pulsing red light flashes on the console. Below it a sequence of numbers repeats itself endlessly below it. It's clearly a distress signal.
It is a cold, empty and distant way of viewing a disaster that, in all likelihood, cost a pilot's life. If I can work out the encryption routine, I could perhaps trace a ship's point of impact.
17 - 33 - 65 - 129 - XXX
Input -> 258, 261, 257
Long ago, it seems, an automated distress call went unanswered.
If I can crack the encryption pattern I could potentially extract the coordinates.
1 - 2 - 6 - 24 - 120 - XXX
Inputs-> 180, 620, 720
Something something....2059 5920 0592
0592
sdfasdfasdfasdf.... 7771 7717 7177"
7717
The security alert is scrambling the screen. It's a chaotic jumble of words.
There's just enough visible text to point me towards the right workflow, and potentially bring the installation back online.
//Srit//Atsestr//docking//
Input->Gek(wrong answer), Space Station(right answer), Planetary trade platform(wrong answer)