The Diary of an XO: Managing a Crew on a Capsuleer Vessel

[Seismic_Stan]

>> Renee Fluery, Executive Officer - Personal Log

>> YC128.08.22 - Federal Freight Storage, Blameston VI - Moon 2, Gallente Federation

I’m excited to record that I have my first commission under a capsuleer.

After years of testing frigates for Duvolle Labs, running with a real capsuleer is a daunting prospect, but I am prepared for the challenge.

I don’t know much about my capsuleer yet other than that he’s Gallente, from Bourynes, and goes by ‘Eidas’. No family name, but his file shows that he’s older than he looks. He’s not been very active since YC105 aside from bankrolling some media operations, so it’s hard to say what kind of operations he’s planning to run.

He’s assigned me to a Velator corvette, although I’m sure he’s experienced in more effective hulls. I suspect he’s testing me and I don’t blame him; I can’t hide from my Duvolle record, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to prove myself despite my documented proclivities.

My first assignment has been to put together a crew from the local academy here in the Blameston system. With the capsuleer running primary systems using his neural link, we won’t need many hands, but I think it’s a good opportunity to start building a team for the future in case we move to a larger hull.

We’ll always need eyes on core engineering systems, no ship security runs without human redundancies, and all that flesh and blood means medical support is required.

The Velator already had a skeleton crew aboard - a pair of Minmatar deckhands, compliments of the SCC. I’ve taken the liberty of hiring some former naval enlisted from the local recruitment centre to raise the workforce quality level.

On a command this small, I can support the security and medical crew directly, but engineering needs dedicated leadership.

I need to find a chief engineer.

This Federal Freight Storage station’s Officer Academy only had one engineer-qualified candidate available for immediate duty, but I’m confident Ulfrik Torveld will do fine - you can always trust a Sebiestor to hold a ship together. Between my experience of Duvolle’s ship portfolio and Torveld’s understanding of Minmatar engineering, we’re establishing a solid foundational command crew with a broad scope.

With all hands aboard and preliminary procedures all in order, I made my first recommendations to Commander Eidas and suggested a formal inauguration - whatever that looks like on a ship this small with eight of us likely crammed into the main access corridor.

Thankfully, he agreed and he even attended the ceremony. The crew seemed impressed that a capsuleer bothered to notice us. It was an unusual and uplifting moment that got our mission started on the right note.

We might be a lowly crew of a Velator corvette (now named by our commander as the FJS Hinge for reasons that have not been explained), but we are unified, the decks are swabbed, and we stand ready for whatever our capsuleer has planned.

Ad astra per aspera.

---

>> YC128.08.22 - Blameston System, Everyshore Region, Gallente Federation

We got underway for the first time at 10:00hrs today.

The preparation and pre-flight check process is very different under a capsuleer. It’s much faster - unnervingly so.

My role at Duvolle was to test experimental systems. The R&D department in Oursulaert liked to integrate experimental systems into established hulls, so to say safety testing and pre-flight was rigorous is an understatement. But even regular naval and commercial pre–flight is thorough, with every crew member and system painstakingly accounted for before a launch request is even issued.

Capsuleers skip all that. It’s their privilege I suppose, and one of the many benefits of being so intimately linked to the hull. As a result, it seems that capsuleers have standing authority at all stations to bypass standard launch protocols. We mortal crew, however, don’t have that gift of omniscience and are expected to be in a state of readiness at all times for a launch order that might be issued at any moment.

I now recognise a key part of my role is to know where the capsuleer is, to buy the crew a precious few seconds. It’s useful to know whether the capsuleer is still in their pod, stretching their legs in their capsule compartment, or if they’ve deployed their capsule to their executive gantry so they can go station-side. It can mean the difference between launching in minutes or seconds.

Fortunately, we’d been running drills and were well prepared for the unannounced launch. I heard the capsule gantry servos before the ship systems registered the return of our Capsuleer commander. I alerted Chief Engineer Torveld and the Security and Medical staff as soon as I saw a route to Deltole being plotted.

Less than a minute later, we were underway, without any insight into our mission. I submitted an information request using the bridge Command Centre interface, which is my best link to our pod-pilot captain and he quickly confirmed it was just a routine run.

The short voyage was a perfect test flight, and familiar territory for me. I used the time to check over as many systems as possible. Capsuleer asset records indicate we’ve got an inventory of ship modules stored in a hangar at a Core Complexion Inc. Warehouse station in Deltole. Given the FJS Hinge is factory fresh and woefully under-equipped, it’s safe to assume we’re heading to Deltole for a much-needed refit.

I notified the Engineering Department to make the necessary preparations. Chief Engineer Torveld seemed enthusiastic, which is encouraging. Weird that he was pressing his ear up against a bulkhead, though. His file did mention his ability to read hull vibrations, so let’s hope the crew don’t find it too unsettling.

All crewed departments are looking nominal at the moment, with expected levels of resilience and morale recorded by the onboard bio-sensors. We’ll earn their loyalty as we learn to work together.

I’m looking forward to the imminent upgrade.

---

>> YC128.08.22 - Core Complexion Inc Warehouse. Deltole III - Moon, Sinq Laison, Gallente Federation

Commander Eidas took us straight to the plotted destination. Although I suspect he wasn’t paying much attention, given that he activated the autopilot after the first jumpgate. That suited me, as the autopilot protocols give me more direct control of the ship. I was monitoring the gate code throughput as a matter of course anyway, so it was no burden to oversee the guidance controls.

The route across the Everyshore region into Sinq Laison was a main trade route and securely within the protective borders of the Gallente Federation. Even so, our destination station was a Minmatar modular scaffold habitat, which I was sure would please our Sebiestor chief engineer and his cohort.

I sent the docking request codes and, as the station’s docking control tug beams took hold and guided the FJS Hinge to its berth, I submitted our session log from the Tactical Data Recorder, confirming our eventless passage.

Inexplicably, the SCC pays 50,000 ISK for the intel that nothing happened. I’m not going to complain; it pays our docking fees, refuelling costs, our wage bill and helps keep us financially solvent without relying on the capsuleer’s revenue stream.

When the loadout manifest came in, I smiled.

The two mining lasers being secured in place on our hardpoints was incontrovertible evidence we were prepping for a mining expedition. This would mean heavy work for the engineering department, but it also meant we were mostly staying away from trouble.

But Serpentis pirates still plunder the mining hotspots, so it’s worth taking some protection. Our capsuleer leader had it covered. We were fitting a modest exoskeletal armour repair system and some extra plating, so that’d give us some defence against light weaponry and stray asteroid fragments. I saw the readouts from engineering confirming correct alignment of the rolled tungsten sheets as they were locked into place. The thunk-clunk-buzz of their installation was a comforting sound.

But my real joy came from the other addition. The Velator corvette is blessed with excellent drone capabilities compared to its counterparts, and seeing a refurbished Hobgoblin drone being brought aboard by the engineering team gave me chills. There’s something symbolic about a full flight of Hobgoblins that speaks to even a lapsed Gallente patriot like me. Not that we had the capacity for anything approaching a full flight, but even one drone is a menace for smaller vessels, and the Velator can support two.

The mighty Hobgoblin was accompanied by a Caldari Hornet, which I was less sentimental about. I accept that it’s a useful workhorse light combat drone, and I appreciate that its kinetic weapons systems probably make sense for the local environment, but I’d have preferred to see a Minmatar Warrior drone for its rapid response performance. Or a second Hobgoblin.

But that wasn’t my call.

Then the nav-coordinates came in for the Bei system in the Minmatar Republic two jumps away, and a second update detailing an Opportunity to support the Starkmanir Restoration.

It looks like we’re going rock-knocking for the Republic.

Which meant that now we really needed that Warrior drone. The local Angel Cartel pirates would shrug off the damage from both our current drone complement’s weapon systems, and our mining lasers would be useless.

I was considering escalating my concern when the order came in, and then we were underway.

[Click here to read the next journal entry…]

[Vladimir_Korff]

An interesting perspective. I have always been uneasy about including a crew into my narrative. Although the official lore indicates that at least larger ships are crewed by baseliners, the actual gameplay does not support the notion. Having said that, if the crew experience is a focus, one may choose the elements of the gameplay that support the story. I look forward to the next chapter.

[Seismic_Stan]

Thanks for reading. Second journal entry now added.

I think your ship having a crew is entirely up to you. As you say, there’s no crew gameplay in the EVE client, and the lore is not entirely consistent. And I say that having done quite a lot of research around the topic over the years, but I accept it will always be subjective and contested topic.

Personally, I love the idea, which is why I’m writing this narrative, and why I vibecoded an EVE Crews simulator to add the gameplay that’s missing from my EVE experience.

[Seismic_Stan]

Third log entry now appended to the top post.

I’m not sure how long a single post can be, so I’m already foreseeing my rookie error at not reserving a couple of extra posts. Is that still how it’s done?

[Vladimir_Korff]

You can just create a new post in this thread for each instalment. For readers, it makes it easier to find newly published content as the forum keeps track of unread posts.

[Seismic_Stan]

>> Renee Fluery, Executive Officer - Personal Log

>> YC128.08.22 - Bei VI - Asteroid Belt 1, Metropolis Region, Minmatar Republic

We crossed the Minmatar Republic border without incident. Whatever history our capsuleer has, he passed his standings checks at the jumpgate.

He led us straight to the nearest asteroid belt, took up a close orbit to a Scordite rock, and fired up the twin mining lasers. There was another capsuleer in the vicinity, commanding a Procurer mining barge with a full mining drone flight. They undoubtedly had some combat drones aboard too. I hailed them and acknowledgements were exchanged. We couldn’t be certain of our respective capsuleers’ intentions, but it seemed reasonable in the circumstances to act in good faith. And there was some safety in numbers too - they were both the richer target, and the more formidable defence.

And so we mined.

Under the motivational scrutiny of Chief Torveld, the trio of engineers worked hard to keep things operating smoothly. They worked to optimise the mining beam’s targetting, making adjustments to ensure the yield was constant and appropriate. As the raw space rock flowed in under the power of the mining lasers’ peripheral tractor beams, the team regulated the internal conveyor drone systems to safely transport the processed ore to sealed compartments in the hold.

It soon became clear that the FJS Hinge’s hold was barely fit for purpose. Only minutes had passed when the thrum of the mining lasers diminished, then stopped. The hold had reached capacity, and the engineering team scrambled to purge the overloading excess from the harvesting systems.

We nearly lost a man when the automated cargo purge system fired up and rammed the packaged ore into a still-assembling deep space container and launched it into space. Thankfully, Chief Torveld had been ready and deployed the nano-drone rescue sling immediately. Our engineer crewman might have a few grey hairs, but the medical officer cleared him shortly after.

No harm had been done, and it had become clear that the Capsuleer’s intention was to use the deep space container as a cargo hold overflow. We had to be ready for more sudden purges. It would perhaps have been helpful if the capsuleer had given us advance notice so we could have been more prepared. [Note to self: add rapid cargo evac drills to the rota.]

After that, we found our rhythm and no further incidents occurred, but I remain on high alert for the safety of the crew. Capsuleer leadership evidently doesn’t always factor that in.

When the container had accumulated 10,000 units of scordite, Commander Eidas plotted a course back to Deltole. I realised with some trepidation that we were going back for a bigger hull to transport our hard-earned ore.

As soon as we docked, Commander Eidas issued the hull transition order and we scrambled to the station’s waiting transfer skiff. Within moments we were aboard the FJS Bottomfeeder, a classic Gallente hauler hull designed in part by my old employer, Duvolle Labs. It was an awe-inspiring moment as we were shuttled along all 412-metres of its length.

I ignored the nagging concern that the Nereus hull - and haulers in general - were well beyond my command rating, and I focussed on my PDA to quickly get a sense of the logistics. Thankfully, Chief Torveld organised the crew and assigned key tasks.

It was very clear our tiny corvette crew was woefully insufficient and we needed more hands, especially to handle the mandated logistics department of a hauler hull. I communicated the urgent need to the capsuleer.

I got the local recruitment academy on the fluid router and ordered as many flight-ready crew with Gallente stripes as they could muster. That depleted the navally trained cohort and we had to make up the numbers with conscripts. They would have to keep up.

My heart was thumping; this seemed like madness. Industrial operations protocols demand that we run a full Logistics department, but my command rating wouldn’t even let me fill the core department leadership team, let alone an additional specialist team.

Nonetheless, we got it done and within minutes we had a full crew complement ready to go.

When this rotation is over, I owe Torveld a drink - he really stepped up and kept the engineering and logistics teams from descending into chaos.

Returning to the Bei system, I was surprised to find our container of ore to still be untouched and ready for recovery.

Despite the lack of department leadership, the Logistics team handled the recovery operation competently. Their numbers and the sophisticated cargo handling automation native to the Nereus kept them safe, and the cargo was secured.

There was even time for a moment of reflection at a majestic view of Bei’s star as it bathed the asteroid field and our vessel in its warm light.

But this session has been quite the test. I hope we passed.

[Vladimir_Korff]

How do you calculate crew salaries? I once had a go at estimating an IT specialist salary in New Eden. It was 25,000 ISK per year. I wonder how it compares to your estimates for a baseline spaceship crew.

[Seismic_Stan]

That’s a good question. The challenge in EVE Crews is to honour the canon while finding a balanced gameplay loop.

The lore leans heavily on the idea that even 1 ISK is a life-changing amount of money for a planetside baseliner, and that lesser planetary currencies exist. We also know from in-game experience that there’s no real cost to a crew, no ISK wallet drain for ship maintenance. EVE Crews charges a token ISK amount for flavour.

I toyed with the idea of a separate currency with factional exchange rates to get around all this, but it was a distraction and a bottomless rabbit-hole. Maybe one day.

For now there are no regular wages for individual crew members. There’s a recruitment cost (5 ISK per head in high-sec, more in rougher space), 1 ISK per crew per session to keep someone on shore leave, 5 ISK severance, and a 25,000 ISK death benefit. Officers are a different species entirely, from a hundred thousand ISK a session for a junior officer’s retainer, up to half a billion to commission a CR-7 Admiral. They’re elite mortals rubbing shoulders with ‘gods’, after all. It’s a gameplay conceit as much as anything, to give the app’s internal economy some meaning, and it’s very much a work in progress.

I’m working on the basis that even lowly ship’s crew are essentially astronauts or oil-rig workers and are well compensated by baseliner standards.

Considering your 25,000 salary, the only figure in EVE Crews that’s genuinely calibrated to a life is that death benefit, and if I work backwards from it the way these things usually run, a death-in-service payment is typically a couple of years’ salary, it puts an EVE Crews crewman somewhere around 10,000 to 25,000 ISK a year. Which is pretty much the same as your software developer’s salary. We’ve worked from two completely different rationales; yours from vodka prices in The Forge and mine from what a family is owed, but it’s encouraging that we’ve landed in the same ballpark.

There won’t be many baseliner folk earning that much. I don’t think 25k a year is capsuleer money - it’s a skilled professional, maybe fourteen times what an unskilled colony labourer pulls in. But New Eden’s planetary populations are enormously unequal, and a station-side software developer is already in a tiny elite compared to the billions for whom 1 ISK really is life-changing.