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BANG!!! Suddenly I was covered in Insty-Bruu as my mug slammed into the wall of the Fuel Rats’ back “office” and shards of crockery went zinging around the room.

I’ve got to work on my temper. Actually, no, I’ve got to punch something. Ow. That didn’t help, either. It’s a good thing the Fuel Rats’ back “office” is whatever hotel room I’m staying in at the time, because – aside from the clean-up charge on the room – I won’t have to get the Insty-Bruu off the wall or clean the blood out of the carpet; I guess when I punched the monitor there must have been some broken shards of mug stuck to my fist. It’s not bleeding too badly. Whew. Unlike most Fuel Rats’ stories, this one doesn’t look like it’s going to involve me going down to station med, though. So far.

Let me back up. I was called in on a quiet night and immediately I started getting back-channel messages from some Rats telling me that there had been a bunch of cluster-nugget rescues. Apparently, a couple of hot-doggers had been jumping into rescues to try to ace other rats to the leaderboard. Midway though scrolling my way into the explanations of who, what, when, how, RATSIGNAL and nobody else was on dispatch. My temperature meter was already on “steaming” (so much for my Buddhist Inner Peace, huh?) and, as I watched the reaction in #FuelRats, I went immediately to “boiling over”:

• Too many people talking at once
• Rats saying “on my way, accept my friend request” on top of eachother, without giving the client a chance to answer or even think
• People telling the client “turn everything off!” and then “well, except your power supply LOL” without asking the client “do you have enough fuel to keep your ship powered until we reach you?”

Basically, it was all the reasons why we put the DISPATCH system in, in the first place. So I jumped on DISPATCH and yelled for quiet. People kept talking.

That was when my Insty-Bruu hit the wall, seemingly of its own volition. I swear.

All I could think, as I knuckled my forehead to try to drop the pressure so it wouldn’t explode, was “this is what you deserve for promoting anarchy. What else did you expect?” Well, the truth is, I expected better. My life philosophy has a few simple rules, one of which is: If you show people a better way, and one that helps them feel useful and interesting, they’ll take it. I realized, as my head was exploding, that there’s such a thing as “too useful, and too interesting.”

My head spun as I put myself in the cockpit of the CMDR we were trying to rescue. He’s new at it; he’s in the core of human space, not deep exploring – so he’s either a newly-minted pilot or he’s a trader that jumped off the beaten track avoiding a pirate. He’s probably confused. He probably feels embarrassed at making a mistake. He’s heard about The Fuel Rats and went to this site, clicked some stuff, then found himself in a chat with … a half dozen people jumping up and down in front of him yelling “ME! ME! MEMEMEMEMEMEME!” meanwhile, if he’s inexperienced he’s probably trying to figure out how in-system chat works, how to accept friend requests on his comm-system, how to drop wing beacons… And the whole time, he may be forgetting to look at his life support systems and may not realize the engines could shut down. This guy doesn’t need anything that’s more confusing. He needs order, factual and calm.

When I was a kid I read a book about the ancient astronauts called “The Right Stuff” – it was about the days thousands of years ago when people strapped themselves onto directional explosives and launched themselves into space that way. It was insanely, gloriously brave. And one of the insanest, bravest, most glorious of the bunch was a guy named CMDR Chuck Yeager. Apparently Yeager was also a buddhist like me, and had developed a preternatural inner calm that he could project. Yeager is the guy that all those first generation astronauts and pilots used to emulate. Yeager is the guy whose inner calm CMDR James Lovell was channelling when his spaceship, Apollo 13, suffered a crippling explosion; all that he said to his mission controller was: “Houston, we’ve had a problem.” Not:
aaaaaAAGHGHGHHGHGHGHHHH!H!H!H!H!HH!!!!!!111!!!!!!

We need that calm. We need CMDR Yeager calm.

I sat back down and call room service for cleanup and another mug of yummy Insty-Bruu. I’ve got CMDR Yeager calm now. My temperature has spiralled back down so I’m so frosty I expect to see bits of ice-vapor clouding off my hands. This is good.

Here’s the thing: We Fuel Rats are famous. I don’t want to sound arrogant but those are the simple facts. We’re the crazies that did Operation Neospike for free. We’re the hard core pilots that sent – not one, but 3 – CMDRs 18,000ly (each way!) to go refuel an explorer more than halfway to Sagittarius A*. We do insanely crazy rescues every night. And the reason we’re famous is because: We communicate. We tell people in the forums, “hey, call the Fuel Rats.” “If we can rescue you, we probably will.” We fiight instancing battles, software glitches and occasionally vaporize a pirate Python (or 3) that sniff too closely to one of our rescues. And the whole time, we’ve got to be speaking with that CMDR Chuck Yeager cool. When US Airways 1549 lost both engines on takeoff, CMDR Sullenberger didn’t scream “AUUUGUGUGHGH!” with fancy colors and font sizes. He said: “My aircraft” and took the controls and saved the passengers.

Now, I’ve got DISPATCH control in #FuelRats, and a new mug of Insty-Bruu and am typing in one window while coordinating 2 rescues in another. Someone logs in to #FuelRats and says “whassup?” and I tell them “Rescue in progress. Shut Up.”

It’s communication. It’s all communication. We’re an anarchy without leaders and rules but that only makes communication more important, not optional. It’s OK for DISPATCH to tell someone “hush” (I am sorry I said ‘shut up’ to anyone) because DISPATCH shouldn’t have to. Now, my fingers are flying over the keyboard as I focus down on my thoughts, blood temperature still a cool −38.83 °C This stuff’s real. I’ve got to make the rest of The Rats understand how important this is.

We tried to get people to stop rat-racing when DISPATCH calls a CASE RED. We put in place a 2-or-3-rat rule for CASE RED because instancing problems can kill and we need to be smooth and tight when there’s a CASE RED. But, you know what? We need to be smooth and tight all the time. Because we have to remember the head-space of that CMDR stuck out in the middle of noplace: he probably hasn’t done this before, he’s probably not even sure if we’re for real. He probably wonders if we’re a bunch of uncoordinated turkeys flapping around waving fuel limpets. He probably doesn’t realize we’re the steely-eyed rocket rats who’ve pulled off hundreds and hundreds of dangerous rescues.

I start drafting my new personal agenda, and it looks like this:

• DISPATCH in #FuelRats at all times
• No more rat-racing, grandstanding, or rescue-hogging – save that for drills or if you’ve agreed with the other rats on the rescue and they’re all OK with a race
• No more talking at once
• Follow the Standard Operating Procedures for rescues; CMDR Domaq and CMDR Kerenn spent a lot of time experimenting with instancing and the SOP is the best way to reliably rescue a client
• If you can’t follow SOP: find another hobby than being a Fuel Rat
• If you can’t respect DISPATCH: find another hobby than being a Fuel Rat
• Better outreach: I am producing some public service announcements for Radio Sidewinder (they don’t know it yet, but they will by monday)
• Better outreach: I have contacted FD’s community manager and asked to be allowed to draft a PSA from The Fuel Rats for GalNet

Here’s what I think the rest of The Fuel Rats need to do:

• Review the SOP for rescues and know it and follow it
• Review the recommendations for how to work with DISPATCH in #FuelRats
• If there’s nobody on DISPATCH, tag: you’re it, steely-eyed rocket Rat. Make us look good. (DISPATCH SOP)
• Communicate: When you are on a rescue, periodically update DISPATCH and the other rats in #FuelRats as to what’s going on.
• Communicate well: Give some thought to what you are saying. Steely-eyed rocket rats do not say “AughWTFBBQ!” they crisply and accurately explain the situation and let everyone read between the lines.
• Listen: Ask the client if they have enough fuel to keep their lights on, then figure out how far away we are, then tell them to shut down unneeded modules if they are far away. Don’t just tell them “do stuff!” and then have DISPATCH telling them “do other stuff” because we look like yutzes when that happens. Because we are yutzes when that happens.
• Remember: The client may be inexperienced. If you tell them to do it (and you tell them to do something stupid) they might. They have placed their lives in your paws.

“Let’s level up our game, Rats!” I type, as I chug – OMG – is that my 5th cup of Insty-Bruu? What’s the LD/50 on this stuff? My remaining beady eye is bugging out of my skull a little bit, as I hammer on the keyboard, trying to force the words into cyberspace, across the network, and into everyone’s hearts and minds.

We’ve been way more successful than any of us expected when this started. We started small and lean and chaotic because we didn’t know we needed infrastructure. But we’re not small and lean anymore – there are over 160 Fuel Rats in the Mischief and we’ve become a widely-known and lauded part of the universe. We’re in the big leagues, and it’s time to put on our big league pants.

I give it a read-over, queue up a call to station med because I think I am having a heart attack from all the caffeine in the Insty-Bruu, and click “SEND”