Wounded

He maneuvered the camera drone softly around. The look of the site was spectacular but he was much more concerned about the red crosses Aura marked his adversaries with. The Wolf class advanced frigate, now labeled 'Flameburst' was taking ages to reach the warehouse. Ages, as in ten or so seconds. The capsuleer quickly brought up the cargo trasfer interface, and the robotic arms pulled in the reason for him entering this deathtrap.
-Watch the heat sink! - yelled Kem, as the Wolf, propelled by the extreme power of the oversized afterburner drifted towards the warehouse, nearly scratching one of the weakest parts of the ship. Fortunately the kinetic barriers kicked in, and the frigate bumped off with almost equal velocity. The capsuleer turned the warp drive on, and within seconds the fickle Wolf was leaving the deadspace pocket, the angry Serpentis still trying to achieve a target lock until they realized no one's there anymore.

The station was one of the few permanent homes for the capsuleer. The dock coordinator smiled at the timely return, and then sent the little ship to the capsuleer's favorite hangar. The amarrian design provided a magnificient view of the station interior. The pilot did not leave the ship, but contacted the agent he was working for. High security space was always busy, and a lot of people meant a lot of criminals. There's always a new job for the venturing capsuleer, provided he or she climbs the ropes of official corporate trust. The capsuleer was well known in this station, at least in the official circles. Sometimes people would knock on his room right next to the dock. In the age of nanites and people not dying because of some gadgets and computers within their bodies, who in their sane mind would think to register a knock on a metal door in any system? Those people who did knock usually had something fishy in mind and wanted the capsuleer to take care of them. Kem marveled at the extent of some of these requests. Simple deliveries of small trinkets and leading large scale military operations alike. The capsuleer had well-tried crew for these runs, including the lead engineer, Blake, who was sometimes harsher than a brutor farmer boy, but Kem really didn't mind the attitude. The man always pulled his weight and beyond all the cursing and spitting, he had a heart, and women like Kem had a good eye for that. Her thoughts shifted back to the capsuleer as the elevator carried her down to his hangar.

The man talked not a word more than was necessary. He always seemed to be suspended deep in his thoughts. Kem did not question him about his past - the wrinkles around his eye and the pale reflections in his iris told all she needed to know. Some people become capsuleers to leave their proletarian roots behind. Many dream of profits and challenges unknown to planetside people. Some others try to break free of the traditions their nations are entrenched in. And some, probably the most, have something they'd rather leave behind. No matter the reasons they admit, each and every one of them is trying to escape something. This particular capsuleer seemingly had multiple things to escape from. Who she saw was a man without fears and regrets. He probably lost his family to something horrible, she mused, because he never talks about them, nor does he reveal his family name. The capsuleer always introduced himself by his callsign, and with subordinates preferred the address 'pilot', rather than any fancy ranks or titles. This appealed to the seibestor woman, though she noted that for an amarrian - and a khanid of all kinds - the capsuleer was awfully humble and very kind in his own way. Some of the crew were slaves before the 'mighty Empress' decided to release them to the four winds - without food and jobs. The capsuleer took these stragglers in, and gave them work and hope. He actively encouraged them to seek ties with their families. In case they died when he lost a ship, he sent the remainder of their belongings to their families, along with their remaining pay to help ease their grief. It wasn't much, but it was a nice gesture. The pilot actually took care of his people. The small battleship and cruiser fleet he maintained gave them homes and employment. In return, the rules were strict. He always undocked with a skeleton crew, no errors, no slackers permitted. Rather dead than useless is what he believed a crew member should be. As much as he approached the people casually, he demanded complete attention and precise work. This duality is a marker for a kind of people who Kem could refer to with only one word: wounded.

Of panem, circensis and hopes

Bold Pilot Log, Entry #24 

The current senior producer for EVE Online, CCP Zulu, has released a dev blog. This somewhat ordinary-looking event has caused quite a stir actually. The moments that define history, as he puts it, are now. The last Blog Banter had already put forward the question about what is going to happen to EVE? If it hasn't ended already I'd recommend Stan to add the devblog to the summary. What we see here is CCP going 'whoa! if :awesome: is no longer awesome then wtf is?' I wish I could tell. But there is a lot of room for a lot of words to explore just this.

So, we have a company that prides itself on listening to the players and delivering the 'awesomeness' they all crave. Yet in the past months they not only failed to do exactly that but suddenly realized it. So let's stop the Bullshit Hardener II's and start the Damage Control III. Arnar's blog is a sign of that. Many in the comments thread observed it had nothing of substance. To the more observant, however it said a whole lot of things. The main message of the blog is that they started massaging the brainpower at their disposal to resolve the situation.

Let's take a look at what CCP and the players want, and what they don't. First of all, Both want EVE to live as long as it has a point. Both parties want EVE to thrive and grow. Now, this is all good, but they imagine it in a different way.

Those players that rave and rant about EVE are the keepers. They are already sold, they will stay, pause and come back. They want more people to shoot at of course, but they mind the content much more. New things to do in their eyes is inavoidably equals or is better than new people to do it with.

CCP, however, as a company, logically sees it the other way around. To go on, they need money. To expand, they need lots of money. The only way they are going to get more money if they get more players.

Those of you observant enough to have spotted the snake biting its own tail, congratulations! Because this is exactly what happens. The existing players' demand for expansion can only be fueled by the extension of the playerbase. A company can develop both ways. Expansive development is when they build upon the existing concept and try to increase its scale. Extensive development occurs when a company takes on new concepts and tries to integrate them with both itself and the customer base. In EVE terms, 'FiS' (blech, ugly word) development is expansive, or vertical. The new things that are not related to you undocking in a spacehip (such as Incarna) are extensive, or horizontal.

This has caused several conflicts of interest in the past, Incarna being at the peak of it. I start to see 'what went wrong' is that CCP decided to move away from the demand for expansion to facilitate extension. Players see this as neglect, which in truth is a grave misunderstanding. But the problem was magnified by both parties with how they reacted to the deployment of Incarna. All the players got is a tech demo rather than true extension. And so the riots and media storm began. Now journalists in the gaming world like to pick on developers, especially one as anecdotic as CCP. Everyone knows they have a 'fucking hard game'. The misconceptions mixed with the drama hace caused damage even managers without any passion for EVE have to deal with. The moments that define history are those when it becomes apparent to even the most apathetic or diconnected that something must be done.

But if Incarna failed, then what won't? In truth, it isn't the idea of Incarna what's failed, but the rollout. It is still a valid concept and will still be, so those wanting to ditch it are lying to themselves. There are those that agrue that the forum posters and bloggers and media stir is the word of the vocal minority, but guess what do those people do that 'just play the game?'. They use the content. CCP can tell which content they use. CCP will judge player reception not only by those who do :words: but by metrics that are produced by the whole of the playerbase. This is why you have POS towers. Guess why you have Incarna? Because many people that you have invited to play EVE said on leaving 'I just can't see myself as a spaceship'. Actions, not words - there is a blur here. Some words are the action itself, some become the action (unsubs induced by the mass hysteria) and some stay hollow. And some echo chambers sound louder than others. So in all this chaos and flow of not accurate information, how would you expect CCP to save EVE?

Everyone has an answer for that, even if that answer really is 'do what The Mitanni suggests' (notice the use of word). Mine might not be the correct one, but I 'stay a while, and listen'. So the moment that defines history will be a positive one for EVE's future, if CCP can resolve the conflict of extension and expansion. There is a way to do this. It can be summarized in one word: balance. Balance efforts. Give something new, refresh something old.

The latter is more obvious. There are a lot of things that can do with improvement. Make them work. Make them complete. Revamp them so they become more challenging or engaging. Add on top of them so they have consequence.

The former? How can you extend without pissing off people? This became increasingly hard over time. The only way to push EVE beyond the niche that gives a hard cap on its player count is to add horizontal content to it. To add no-spaceship content. Actually, many people would welcome this. The thing is, with all those spaceships and warping around, you sometimes want to take a break. EVE also lacks instant gratification. It is a good player filter, but a costly one. Incarna has the perfect setting and potential to give EVE what some people struggle to find in it: a place in the sandbox.

The old saying 'panem et circenses' comes to mind. MMOG players are very much that simple from a business standpoint. Give them something they see useful, and give them things they can lose themselves in. In this context, 'panem' refers to the necessities of life - features that make playing the game enjoyable. 'Circenses' is the concepts that link them to the game, the entertainment, the reward they get for using a feature. If 'panem' is missing, the players will revolt and whine that the game is broken. If there are no 'circenses', players will be angry at the developer and say that the game is broken, full of grind, too hard, pointless, take your pick. It is difficult times we're facing. Difficult times indeed.

In summary, whatever the changes, there should be a few things that are kept in mind. I call these the seven souls of EVE.

1. Scale. You should feel the enormous thing that you are part of around you. YXou should be constantly made aware how many things your actions touch.
2. Consequence. Everything you do must have one. A permanent one. Nothing should be excluded. The cold harsh universe is not a place where you could do something and change nothing.
3. Choice. You must be able to make your own. Work for it or pay for it? Keep it or kill it? It must depend on you.
4. Risk. Everything you do must have a chance to go south. Excitement and entertainment cannot be truly experienced until you know you were risking something for it.
5. Competition. This is the point of playing with others. You must in each activity compare to another player and success should be granted to the better.
6. Interaction. Anything in game must do something meaningful. Meaningful in a sense that other players must be affected, both directly and indirectly.
7. Foresight. EVE rewards planning and organised effort with increased rewards. This should be always the case.

As I have seen it so far, anything that goes into development and misses the fine alchemy of these souls, will either have rotten 'panem' or be a boring 'circensis'. Let's hope CCP too knows this.

They have one more chance:

Sessym out.

Random Brain Fart - EVE Races Warfare Philosophy

Bold Pilot Log, Entry #23

Amarr - Give up! My armor is strong as my faith in God, no weapon can harm me. His holy laser light will reach you no matter how you try to run!

Caldari - Can't dodge missiles, eh, punk? And yeah, I shield tank because I'm not gonna buy damn nanites.

Gallente - Just wait till I get in range, you're so fucked monsieur. By the way, armor tanks are manly, m'kay?!

Minmatar - RATATATATA! AAAAAAAAH! RATATATA!

Sessym out.

Blog Banter 28: "The Future of EVE Online, CCP and the CSM"

Bold Pilot Log, Entry #22

Today's topic is the courtesy of Seismic Stan and his blog, Freebooted. Whilst I admire his sense of humor and lightweight writing style, I want to reflect on the questions he puts up as the new organizer of the old Blog Banters.

The Question

In recent months, the relationship between CCP and it's customers has been the subject of some controversy. The player-elected Council of Stellar Management has played a key role in these events, but not for the first time they are finding CCP difficult to deal with. What effect will CCP's recent strategies have on the future of EVE Online and it's player-base? What part can and should the CSM play in shaping that future? How best can EVE Online's continued health and growth be assured?

The Re-cap

To better understand the question first,  let's recap what exactly happened here. Many people can think back until the release of Incarna, Monoclegate and such. But actually where it really began was the ambition on the side of CCP that they can manage running a healthy MMO (which requires tremendous effort and resources on behalf of the developer and exceptional persistence on behalf of the player-base by the way) and develop two revolutionary games at the same time. Impossible? No. "Fearless"? Rather insane, I'd wager. What see here unfold is very much like when one tries to ride not two but three horses at the same time, even though only one of them has a saddle. It is only expected that you try to keep over the other horses by clenching the saddle, which is infuriating to the horse wearing it.

More directly: the first wing flaps of the infamous butterfly were the decisions made at CCP that they take this path. Before embarking on the journey of becoming a multi-product company, they launched a last great effort that awarded EVE players with the much beloved Apochrypha expansion. When it was finished, most people went over to the other projects, namely Carbon and DUST. Incarna had working prototypes for over a year even back in 2009, but for some reason it didn't match the standards CCP set for themselves. Then came Dominion, which turned the sovereignity mechanics of the game upside down. A lot of players felt the impact of this, but it only hit months later, and people only get angry about a change when the negative impact on their situation and interests is apparent. Guess what did it coincide with? You bet, it was the :18months: scandal, or Summer of Rage if you will.

The gist of that situation was that it then became visible to the CSM that CCP no longer concentrated on EVE. No matter what they say, no matter how they praise the community, the reality of EVE development was that it received little attention within he company compared to the Carbon framework and other stuff. That alone would not be a problem, since as we learned later, EVE can benefit greatly from its development. What hit people square in the jaw was that the plethora of existing bugs and usability issues seemingly received little in the way of attention. To quell the fires, Team BFF and Team Gridlock were launched or rather more emphasis put on them in terms of communication. Regardless of their effort, rage in the playerbase started to cyclically build up. Tyrannis failed miserably and just like CCP, I don't want to mention that expansion more than it is necessary.

So, moving on, people seemed to calm into a steady frown, some looking at everything on the dark side, others shouting 'I want to believe'. Regardless, Fanfest did go in a positive tone, aside from the nVidia guys who didn't know when to STFU & GTFO. Everyone seemed to want to forget all the arguing that came out of Summer of Rage '10. Then, suddenly "Fearless". We all should know by now how this went from 'the most successful release eva' to 'this is the time when we look at what CCP does not what they say'.

The Answers

There is a resounding question hanging over most people's mind who followed the events that unfolded:

"What will happen to my EVE?"

I'll once again give you the now classical answer: it depends. It exactly depends on the actions CCP takes in order to:

1. Communicate intentions to the players. Most people can contend with being screwed over if they are warned upfront.
2. Understand that the tremendous content already existent in EVE allows every staying player to love something in the game. This they will care for, nothing else.
3. Strike a balance between FiS and WiS resources.

First, a company as transparent as CCP is (no matter how other people try to distort it, they do speak a lot about what they do), needs to get more serious about speaking to the dangerous lot EVE players are. 'It's going to be awesome' isn't an adequate communication, especially, when for a lot of people, it's not so awesome. Everyone, including developers and players have their own perception of reality, and CCP should at least try to affect that perception, not just dump their own on us. As an example, to some people, mining is boring. To others, it's great because they can do whatever besides it. Some people love solo and small gang PvP, some (*gasp*) don't. The vast majority of people will agree though that they don't like when CCP 'promises' something (if you are familiar with their style, the never truly do) and then break their promise.

Second, the astonishing variety compared to other games means that many people will have different expectations and different interests. Some of them will want life to be easier, some will want it made harder. In the end, nobody truly cares for the things he didn't ever touch, and chances are, that is a long list. They will, however, care for new types of features (such as CQ and Incarna) and if the content fails to fulfill its perceived purpose, they get angry. Now, what is the perceived purpose of Incarna as of yet? Humane way of interaction through lifelike pixel bodies.

The key word is interaction. INTERACTION. INTERACTION. INTERACTION...

Currently, there is no meaningful interaction out of your spaceships. You could argue contracts and market, but that is core gameplay, and not a feature. A feature is something that you can choose to use or disregard. Incarna and Captain's Quarters are empty features. You can use them but you get no real benefit. I can understand why CCP decided to roll it out to see what it messes up (it's an eight year-old game after all), but it got the hype from the wrong angle. This is not the way EVE's future lies at.

The third concern is balance. Just like Torfi described at Fanfest with expansion vs. iteration, CCP will need to strike a balance between WiS and FiS. The reason is simple. Some people will not use Incarna at all if they aren't forced (hell, they shouldn't be, more on that later). Those people will feel abandoned if you roll out just stuff related to Incarna. Other people though may be set off by the miniscule amount of content EVE currently provides outside the space game, so more needs to be developed ASAP.

The Verdict

I don't really feel entitled to say such an important thing as a verdict over a gem that's loved by more than a hundred thousand people, but I do feel entitled to my opinion, so I'll just go ahead and say it.

I think that the future of EVE depends greatly on the decisions that are made to patch up the current situation. The prospect of our favorite game losing its soul is unnerving. There clearly has been a change of direction, which can be perceived through the trailers as well. Up until now, CCP and EVE was all 'this is yours, play with it' and then it somehow went to 'we own your ass and you know it'. I don't like either the transition and the direction. Despite this, many positive things can come out of this.

There are things that CCP needs to return to in order to keep players satisfied. Some little game mechanics help with what they actually do can go a long way to please even new players. It's not the invitation part that's hard - keeping players is. So if EVE can keep its wonderful players while adding new ones, it will stay alive and dynamic - and that means better communication and more concentrated effort for improvement. CCP's growing pains affect both the players and the game greatly, and if the EVE society dies in them, so will CCP.

Sessym out.

Titanium Sabot H

The mechanical trigger hit the cartridge, giving heat to the few metallic sparks that erupted inside. The propelling compund, a careful mix of explosive and oxigen  sprung to life. Small molecules burst from the heat of the sparks, rapidly devouring the air they were floating in. In a matter of nanoseconds, the whole charge was spent, and the giant surge of energy split the cartridge open. It didn't waste much energy, so the inflation of the flue continued to push the bullet forward, into the rotating spiral of the barrel. The outer sheath of the bullet slightly melted, and took the shape of the barrel, allowing it full control over the motion. A few more nanoseconds, and the explosion given away all it's pressure, directly into the bullet, which accelerated to five times the speed of the ripples it would make in the air. It left the barrel instantly, further propelled and shaped by it, launching into the open. Some of the flue had escaped with it, with no containers restricting its inflation, giving a last nudge to the small projectile. The bullet darted through the relatively thick recycled air of the station, connecting on the metallic surface it was aimed at.

The outermost sheath heated up further due to the friction from the air, and the pressure poised by the armoured cloth. The heat dissipated quickly as the molten matter flew off the bullet, weakening the molecular structure of the armor. The cords started to split as the blunt and soft outer shell gave way to the second, hardened and sharpened sheath. Soon this layer of the bullet took all the heat that the tremendous force it was fired with caused upon impact, and its hot, pointy front combined with the polished surfae pushed it through easily. The second layer of the armor was more problematic. The ceramic scales that overlap each other beneath the clothing stood ready to take the energy away from the shot. The third sheath however, an incredibly dense but flexible metal compund broke the second sheath into sparks and caused the bullet to pivot slightly and turn around the edges of the scales, bypassing the resilient ceramics and breaking through right into the skin. The sheath was spent in the process, and the bullet had lost four fifths of its energy, but the sheaths had done their job and penetrated the armor. Now it was the shell's turn - there were nanofiber reinforced bones it its way. The hot metal burned through the flesh, and the volatile matter slowly took the shape of a waterdrop, it's titanium core tearing into the flesh and bones, finally stopping in the left chamber of the heart, leaving it essentially disfunctional, though neither of the other wounds caused by the projectile were bleeding.

Just about when the bullet passed through the last layer of the victim's skin, the Imperial Armaments 'Regimen' PER-60 started its recoil cycle. The barrel retracted in the bullet's wake, and the second round was lifted into position within the gunlock. The trigger loosened back as the murderer's finger released the trigger and the spring pushed it back into its place. Most of the kinetic energy from the recol was spent by now, and as the first ripples of yound started to emanate from the shot, the handgun returned to its previous position, no longer forcing the hand upwards.

The murderer, a certain capsuleer from a certain corporation looked at the target. The tripple-sheathed, high velocity Titanium Sabot H round did it's job well. He was thinking about the globalization capsule technology brought to the unverse. He just left his Jovian-made hydrostatic capsule in a Gallente station in Amarr space, only to be assaulted by an assassin of Intaki origin, who was probably working for a Caldari corporation, judging by his equipment manufactured by the Kaalakiota Corporation. The sidearm he used to protect himself was designed by an Amarrian corporation to fire rounds favored by the Minmatar, no less.

Interesting weapon, the IA 'Regimen' series. These sidearms were designed to use conventional explosive-propelled projectiles of 6 mm caliber, which aligns well with the corporation's core philosophy. It was no coincidence that the 6 mm 'H' series of traditional minmatar design fit well into this handgun. The logic there ould go like this: if you are out in the open, where you are prone to assaults, it is best that you have a reliable gun at your side, one which can be fired immediately with good efficiency and cheap charges. The mechanical firing method also came as a side effect of this - you can't jam a weapon that doesn't have microchips in it. Alas, the PER-60 could fire a nail if it had the proper cartridge.

The assassin was well prepared. Killing a capsuleer in his quarters would not necessarily dispose of him, but, especially if they last died a long time ago, could wipe a lot of memories out of them. What, however, he failed to register is this particular capsuleer's bad habit to be always alert and don't trust anyone and anything. That's how life went in New Eden.

Business As Usual

It was freezing. The sudden decrease in pressure surely perforated some of the cruicial parts, but the temperature drop took over much faster, leaving it solid, pale. It was really unconcerned about the situation, though. In fact, nothing really could concern it, seeing that it was a frozen corpse now. The only thing that would be of interest about it could be if it rejoined to its old self in form of cheap biomass, but seeing that the unsignificant event that led to its current state happened far in deadspace, nobody is likely to pick it up.

A few region farther, three red warning lights lit up over a tank. The first signaled a new arrival, the second signaled that the reason for the arrival was death, and the third signaled that the new body is functional and no medical attention required. The fluid started to drain down the pipes and it was time for the awakening serum to be introduced to the patient. As the drug was injected, the tank opened and the man stepped out, seemingly staggered but with freakish calm on his face for someone who just died. He strained one of his eyebrows looking at the novice doctor assistant, like he was saying 'what the hell are you looking at?', but the capsuleer did not utter a word. The assistant woke from his stupor and handed him the towel he was holding. The capsuleer wrapped it around his pelvis casually, and walked towards the shower. He twitched his nose, the irritating smell of the statis fluid his clone was in took over his senses for a moment. He frowned, then entered the cabin and opened the tap. Hot water poured down the well-built body. Some twenty seconds later, he was walking towards his personal quarters. The aisle was surprisingly quiet this hour, leaving him to his thoughts. He entered the capitain's quarters throughout the Door. From here, he had an almost perfect view of the insides of the station, where like small dots and muscles the maintenance crew was moving al kinds of parts and ships around. It reminded him of the work colons do, taking in and ejecting their volatile food continuously.

He looked back at the Door. That thing meant a gateway between two worlds to him. One was the known, the thrilling and the profitable. The other? He had no real feelings about the other on top of indifference. For many years, he perceived people beyond that door as parts of the body that served his existence. They did not matter much to him - he wasn't interested in their ailments, problems, hunger and affairs. But sometimes he is just forced beyond that Door, to the world that he doesn't want to be a part of, or, more accurately - not this way. He shook off the thoughts of his head, and then walked up to the console, ordered a new capsule, requested his Hurricane to be prepared for boarding, and sit down on the sofa, waiting for the fleet and alliance comms to light up. Flying into dangerous space in a capsule-fitted ship and getting even his pod blown up was his way of business-as-usual afterall.