Tarkov is brutal. You know it, I know it, and your stash value definitely knows it. But honestly, the deadliest thing in Escape from Tarkov isn't a cracked Scav with a TOZ or a silent grenade landing at your feet. It’s the person sitting in Discord with you. When we talk about EFT colleagues part 1, we aren't just discussing tactical positioning or who carries the CMS kit. We’re talking about the fragile social contract that exists between PMCs.
Look, playing solo is a horror game. Playing with "colleagues"—whether they are real-life friends or guys you met on a Looking For Group (LFG) server—is a management sim where the stakes are your digital life and hours of lost progress.
Success in Tarkov depends on communication, but let’s be real: most teams are a mess. One guy is looting a jacket while another is taking contact from three directions. Another guy is "totally sure" he’s in the blue building, only for you to realize he’s actually in the red warehouse right before you accidentally team-kill him. This happens because most players treat their EFT colleagues like NPCs rather than actual teammates with specific roles.
The Loot Goblin Dilemma in EFT Colleagues Part 1
Greed kills squads. It’s the primary cause of friction in any partnership. You’ve seen it. You kill a geared player at Big Red, and before you can even reload or check your corners, your teammate is already prone on the body. This isn't just annoying; it’s a tactical disaster.
In a professional-grade squad, the person who gets the kill usually gets the "rights" to the loot, or at least the first pick. But "EFT colleagues part 1" of team dynamics is understanding that loot belongs to the squad’s survival. If I’m running a meta Mutant and my buddy is struggling with a naked Mosin, I might give him the high-tier armor from my kill just so he doesn't die in the next five minutes. It’s about longevity.
The problem arises when the distribution isn't equitable. If you’re the one always bringing the keys—spending millions of Roubles on the Ultra Medical storage key or the Kiba keys—and your "colleagues" are vacuuming up the LEDX or the high-value weapon parts before you even get in the room, that partnership is dead. It’s just a matter of time.
Communication Is More Than Just Talking
"He's over there!"
Where is "there," Kevin? By the tree? There are four thousand trees on Shoreline.
👉 See also: Little Big Planet Still Feels Like a Fever Dream 18 Years Later
Effective communication with your EFT colleagues part 1 requires a shared vocabulary. Most casual groups fail because they don't have established callouts. They use vague directions. Expert players use fixed landmarks. "Gas station," "Power," "Construction," "Sniper Road." If you can't describe a location in two words, you're failing your team.
Silence is also a tool. Sometimes, the best thing a teammate can do is shut up. High-intensity moments require sound cues. If your colleague is rambling about what he wants to eat for dinner while you’re trying to hear a floorboard creak in Three-Story Dorms, he’s not a teammate; he’s a liability.
Technical Roles and Why They Matter
Most people just "load in." That's a mistake.
If you want to actually survive a streak of raids, you need roles. You don't need to be military LARPers, but you do need a basic understanding of who is doing what.
- The Pointman: This guy has the highest refresh rate monitor and the best reflexes. He moves first. He’s the sacrificial lamb, but he’s also the one who clears the corners.
- The Rear Guard: This is the most underrated role. While the rest of the EFT colleagues are looking forward, this person is walking backward 30% of the time. They prevent the dreaded "third-party" flank.
- The Medic/Support: Someone needs to carry the extra surgical kits and the heavy splints. If everyone is min-maxing their weight, no one has the utility to save the team after a pyrrhic victory.
When you think about EFT colleagues part 1, think about the balance of the kit. If you all bring bolt-action rifles to Customs, you are going to get shredded the moment you enter a building. Variety is what keeps a squad alive. One person suppresses with high-capacity mags while the other maneuvers for a flank. It’s basic, but so many people ignore it in favor of everyone running the exact same "meta" build they saw on YouTube.
The Psychology of the Team-Kill
It’s going to happen. You’re going to shoot your friend in the back of the head.
The way a squad handles a team-kill (TK) defines their long-term viability. There are two types of reactions. There’s the "blame game," where the shooter is yelled at for ten minutes, leading to tilted gameplay. Then there’s the "VOD review" approach. Why did it happen? Did the person who died fail to call out their movement? Did the shooter have itchy trigger fingers?
✨ Don't miss: Why the 20 Questions Card Game Still Wins in a World of Screens
In the context of EFT colleagues part 1, the most important rule is the "Gear Insurance Policy." If you TK a teammate, you are responsible for hiding their gear in a bush or, if possible, carrying their high-value items out for them. If you TK a buddy and then loot his body for yourself? You’re a monster. Honestly, that’s how friendships end in this game.
Misconceptions About Squad Play
A lot of people think that more players equals an easier time. That's a total lie.
Going from a duo to a five-man squad is actually a massive jump in difficulty. The "noise floor" of a five-man is insane. You can't hear anything. You spend 90% of the raid asking, "Is that you?" because someone stepped on a metal grate.
Smaller groups (2-3 players) are generally the "sweet spot" for EFT. It allows for enough firepower to win most engagements without the chaotic overhead of managing five different locations and movement patterns. When you add more EFT colleagues into the mix, your survival rate often goes down unless you are a highly disciplined group.
The "Sherpa" Dynamic
Often, a squad consists of one veteran player and two or three "Timmies" (new players). This is a unique version of the EFT colleagues part 1 dynamic. The veteran isn't just playing the game; they are teaching it.
If you're the veteran, stop playing for yourself. If you sprint through the map and leave your new friends behind, they will die to a Scav, get frustrated, and stop playing. You have to be the shepherd. If you're the new player, listen. Don't wander off because you saw a shiny toolbox. Stay on the hip of your experienced colleague.
Actionable Steps for Better Squad Synergy
Improving your relationship with your EFT colleagues part 1 doesn't require a military manual. It requires a few simple, hard rules that everyone agrees to before the countdown hits zero.
🔗 Read more: FC 26 Web App: How to Master the Market Before the Game Even Launches
1. Establish the "Loot Hierarchy"
Decide before the raid who gets what. A common rule: the killer gets the dogtag and the primary weapon. Everything else is fair game for the rest of the squad to help them stay profitable. If someone is on a specific quest (like needing a found-in-raid GPU), they get priority on that item regardless of who found it.
2. Standardize Your Uniform
This sounds silly until it saves your life. Have your squad wear the same armband, or better yet, the same helmet or backpack. If everyone is wearing a Pilgrim (the giant purple/blue backpack), it’s very easy to distinguish "friend" from "foe" in a chaotic hallway fight.
3. Use Fixed Compass Bearings
Instead of saying "left," use the compass at the bottom of the screen. "Contact, 280!" is an objective fact. "To the left" is relative to where you are facing, which might be the opposite of where your teammate is facing.
4. Record Your Raids
Use Shadowplay or OBS. When a disaster happens—and it will—watch the footage together. You'll often find that the person complaining was actually the one who made the mistake. Seeing the perspective of your EFT colleagues is eye-opening. You'll realize that from their point of view, you looked exactly like an enemy.
5. The "Clear Comms" Command
Establish a keyword that means "everyone stop talking immediately." When someone hears a footstep, they say "Comms," and the Discord goes silent. No exceptions. This allows the team to gather intel without the clutter of "Wait, was that me? I think that was me."
Understanding the social and tactical layers of EFT colleagues part 1 is the difference between a stash full of Slick armors and a stash full of Paca vests. Respect the "colleague" as much as you respect the gear. Tarkov is a game of pixels, but the frustration of a broken team dynamic is very real. Focus on the person behind the PMC, and the Roubles will follow naturally.