Intergalactic Summit

I just finished fitting a dozen breachers, and interacting, working, and eating with the crew members that will be operating these ships has been... sobering, to say the least. They talk and act like they're immortal. Surely they know how slim their chances of survival is aboard lowsec capsuleer frigs? Most of them say they're in it for the money, or for the family compensation packages. Morbid. More than one has said that they've been tested and are going to take the cash from this work to become capsuleers, if they survive. Many of them have expressed regret that they are unable to become capsuleers. I guess this is the closest they can get?

Having been baseliner crew myself, and having had family that was crew for capsuleers, I guess it doesn't strike me as at all odd that so many capsuleers were once capsuleer crew. I suppose being so close, both to death and to the bravado and invincible attitude that so many capsuleers carry themselves with, infects a person. If the crew of a capsuleer ship lives with death crouching at the corner, capsuleers ride death like an animal. It's addictive.

I've always known, at least somewhat personally, the crew of my ships. Admittedly, the crew of my Caldari ships, being both fewer in number and provided by the station corporation, are generally much less social than large Matari crew I'm working with now. Either way, I try not to make friends. Eating with them is satisfying. Talking with them is intriguing. I have a hard time considering myself different from most of them. They almost seem more capsuleer than I am.

Does anybody else interact face-to-face with their crew?

As a Multiple I have a bit more presence with my crew then most capsuleers. I keep one of my bodies aboard the ship I'm piloting to interface with the crew and conduct affairs that would be more difficult were I trapped in the pod.

And their survival chances don't have to be slim. I've had my crew for years, and I expect to have the majority of them for years to come, regardless of the fate of the ship they're serving aboard. With a small investment into a Slingshot cloning system, your entire crew can be safely backed up in case of your ship's destruction. For only 1 million ISK, you can ensure your crew's continued survival, and save money on training due to the reduced turnover rate.

You can accept death, or you can get to work, and do something about it.

Yes. I chain them, I collar them, I stuff them full of Vitoc. I whip them, I chip them, I brainwash them, and then I sacrifice them to the Red God. Amen. Amarr Victor.

I beg them to leave. Never to board my ships. I only pay them for 10 missions then I force them to retire with enough to do well for the rest of their life. But they are fools. They gamble their lives away. I cannot morn for them, but celebrate their freedom to choose how to live, or die.

Still though... I beg them to leave.

It's actually not as insane as you seem to imagine. Warning people of the dangers of a hazardous job, while still being willing to pay a high enough wage to make many people consider it worth the risk isn't at all uncommon. Many dangerous positions in heavy industrial areas that can't be taken by drones pay similarly well. The idea is that the warnings will filter out the people who were unaware of the risks, and the high rate of pay is intended to entice the highly skilled. On some primitive settlements, petroleum extraction - especially offshore - is a similar situation.

And so many are fond of calling the Matari barbaric swine.

As for the subject, I participate in following head-to-head interactions with my crew:

Periodical drills.
Philosophical talks.
Screening on compatibility with space work and reliability.
Sorting out payment bonuses and rank ups.
Solving problems and conflicts.
Sparring.

As I mentioned in the other thread, I maintain non-pod quarters on all of my ships. I know most of us tend to go to low-alpha activity in the pod - I certainly did, earlier in my career - but I don't sleep well in the pod anymore. Being immersed as I lower activity... stirs old memories. So whenever I can, I sleep in a bed, like any baseliner.

As a result, when things are calm, I take my meals in the mess, socialize with the crew, assist with the maintenance... especially my primary crews, those on my Scimitar-class cruiser, Thundersaint, and my Nidhoggur, the Sinnebago. There are a few crewmembers who've tried to get my attention for.. other things... but really, who has the time?

"A destiny of light awaits, they say
Those who rise above to meet
The winged Gods, but stay
You are safer on your feet

Walk the land and breathe the air
Pick the fruit and take a wife
What awaits you in the void
Is not a happy life" - Dreams of Yasur

I demand that every perspective hire read this poem, require they understand it, before I ever allow them to sign a contract aboard any of my vessels. I dare say I spend more time out of my pod, even in space, than I do in. To see the faces of my crew, to hear their voices with my own ears and to enjoy their company, not just their being, I find keeps me sane and human.

This might seem a little odd coming from me, but I really don't.

I don't fraternize. Not at all.

There are a few reasons for this.

* As a capsuleer, I don't pilot by issuing verbal commands, but by will. It is not necessary for me to maintain a relationship with my crew.

* I am a combat pilot and routinely go into situations that could prove deadly to anyone with me. If I get to know them, I will worry about them, which will compromise my effectiveness and increase their danger. Keeping a level head in combat is difficult enough as it is.

* Human though they are, they are components of the ship I ... I guess the term would be "possess." They are part of me, unseen, unfelt. If I get to know them, it will be more difficult to forget that I'm one small woman in a structure the size of a large building, and not the ship itself. My performance will suffer. They'll be more likely to die.

* I also can't get to value my own ship or crew above those of my comrades, or I may be unwilling to sacrifice my ship for one of my comrades' vessels-- even a much larger one.

* Ultimately, the ship's interior isn't my domain, and I gather I can be a kind of unsettling person. I don't wish to complicate their work or lives, either.

Sometimes I check the monitors, just to remind myself that they're there. But it's a ruthless business we're in. Knowing the people I'm responsible for will not help me to protect them, or anyone else.