All of the decks where human beings work will be inside a pressurized habitat module, so the crew can go about their business without dying. But more so that other decks, the crew deck design will run afoul of the limitations of the habitat module. Specifically, while a pilot control station or an astrogator's workspace can get away with being very cramped, the crew deck cannot be too cramped or the people will undergo psychotic breaks and go on a rampage.
Depending upon the mass limits and the whim of the spacecraft designer, the crew may not have rooms, just sleeping bunks stuck wherever there is some spare room, or to maintain ship balance. And their may not be enough bunks for the entire crew to sleep at once, forcing a "hot bunk" rotation system (i.e., pairs of crew members on different shifts will share a common bunk).
If the designer is feeling more merciful, they may upgrade the luxury to something resembling those "capsule hotels" popular in Japan. The good news is that you have the privacy of a room. The bad news is that the "room" is only slightly larger than a coffin. If you are really lucky the coffin will include an emergency air supply.
Typical 1 person capsule units in such hotels have an internal volume of 2.7 cubic meters, and are 2.04m long × 1.158m wide × 1.138m tall.
The Jovian Confederation ship books have spacecraft designs that are remarkably scientifically accurate and will repay careful study. The accuracy is due to precise oversight by Marc Vezina.
Most luxurious of all is a room actually big enough to turn around in. This is still going to be tiny. Bunks and tables will fold up against the wall, and one won't be able to fold down everything simultaneously. Do some research on accommodation found in wet Naval vessels. For enlisted men, the US Navy manages to cram twelve crewmen into 100 m3, or 8.3 m3 per man. On a sleeper railroad train, it is a more expansive 10 m3 per person, once you add in the diner, baggage and lounge cars (150 m3 per car, 4 passenger cars, 1 diner, 1 baggage, 1 lounge equals 1050 m3 for about 100 people).
Keeping a sense of rank having its privileges, it is very likely that the accommodations for the officers will be one step above that for the enlisted men. But you knew that already.
Again, keep in mind that this is just the personal living space for the crew, not the entire habitable volume of the spacecraft. By the same token, the personal living space for the crew includes both the crew quarters and a common lounge area.
As previously mentioned, the US wet Navy crams twelve enlisted men into 100 m3, or 8.3 m3 per man.
On a sleeper railroad train, it is a more expansive 10 m3 per person, once you add in the diner, baggage and lounge cars (150 m3 per car, 4 passenger cars, 1 diner, 1 baggage, 1 lounge equals 1050 m3 for about 100 people).
In this NASA report (Preliminary Assessment of Artificial Gravity: Impacts to Deep-Space Vehicle Design 2007) it implies that for the entire habitable volume the bare minimum is about 17 m3 per crewperson. Part of that will be the crewperson's bunk space, the rest is their contribution to the common lounge area.
However, in this later 2015 report (Minimum Acceptable Net Habitable Volume for Long-Duration Exploration Missions) recommended a minimum acceptable Net Habitable Volume of 25 m3 (883 ft3) per person.
The 2015 report makes a few assumptions and definitions.
Net Habitable Volume means “the volume left available to the crew after accounting for the loss of volume due to deployed equipment, stowage, trash, and any other structural inefficiencies and gaps (nooks and crannies) that decrease the functional volume”. This means a large room crammed floor to ceiling with food rations doesn't count.
Minimum Acceptable Net Habitable Volume has a long and complicated description that you can read in the report. What it boils down to is the minimum volume that will allow the crew to not become stir-crazy and go postal in a homicidal rampage.
The report assumes a baseline mission based on the NASA Mars Design Reference Architecture 5.0. A 30 month mission, 6 crew, mixed gender and culture, up to 22 minute communication delay (one-way) with Terra, autonomy from the ground increases with distance from Terra.
An army marches on its stomach, and a nothing can raise the morale of a tramp freighter spacecraft quite like the prospect of a tasty hot meal in the mess deck. The flip side is that disgusting food can really drag down morale. And for a ship full of highly skilled crew heading for a multi-year mission into the wilderness, gourmet food can offset many hardships endured.
In some ways the mess deck is the "heart" of the spacecraft, in the sense that it is the focus of interpersonal interaction. This is where the crew hangs out and relaxes, where gossip is exchanged, where people go get a cup of coffee and talk things over. It is probably the largest room in the habitat module. Sometimes there are separate mess decks for officers and enlisted men.
Given the cramped nature of a spacecraft hab module, it might have to do double duty. Often it will be used for an auditorium if the captain has to address the crew.
And sadly as emergency triage/operating room, especially on a military spacecraft. As mentioned in the Sickbay section, there is a tradition on military ships for off-duty personnel removing their headgear while on the mess deck. It is a sign of respect for the crew members who have in the past, or may in the future, suffer and die there.
And besides food, the mess deck must have coffee, and plenty of it. Or some other stimulant drink. And the coffee urns should have some coffee in them all day long. As a general rule the coffee served tastes awful, since the volume required and lack of motivation on the part of the mess crew lead them to skimp on keeping the coffee brewers properly cleaned. A first officer with an eye towards improving morale might want to encourage the gallery personnel in charge of coffee to GET YOUR FRAGGING BUNS IN GEAR AND KEEP THOSE BLASTED COFFEE URNS SPOTLESS!
The kitchen or galley will have to be specially designed, because it will have to be compact and be able to safely cook in free-fall. Hot grease globs or even entire pots of boiling water flying in zero g can cause severe burns to the kitchen crew.
As you probably know already, the chief mess officer traditionally has the nickname "Cookie".
What's in the Life Support room? Controls for the atmosphere, temperature, drinking and washing water, recycling, environmental heat radiators, hydroponics (if any) and algae tanks (if any). There will also be controls to trigger countermeasures if the air pressure suddenly drops. And maybe a canary in a cage.
Life support will also be tasked with controlling obnoxious odors in the ship's atmosphere. They will have filters, perfumes, and negative ion emitters. The life support techs will also use equipment to track down the source of particularly bad smells, say Ordinary Spaceman Lister's unwashed sock bucket.
What's in the cargo hold? A huge cargo bay door. Perhaps an extendable cargo crane or ramp to facilitate loading. Decks painted with guide-lines to regularize the placement of cargo canisters. Lighting fixtures inset and armored to protect them from clumsy cargo handling. Lots of tie-down attachment points to immobilize the cargo (if the cargo shifts during thrust the rocket will tumble). Hoists in the ceiling. There will be an office for the cargo master, said office might be the "quarterdeck" when the ship is planeted. If so, the office might have repeaters for the critical system monitors, for use by the watch officer.
Also keep in mind that some propulsion systems are radioactive. You might have to arrange things so that the unloaded cargo does not arrive too close to the engines. Possible solutions include a ramp, a small cable tramway like a ski lift, or an arm like on the SF spacecraft SPIP.
Now, I have ranted about how a spacecraft should be arranged more like a skyscraper rather than a passenger aircraft. The exception is if the main function of the spacecraft is carrying cargo. A skyscraper arrangement makes loading the cargo hold a nightmare. For a cargo spacecraft, it makes more sense to design it as a belly lander.
Remember that the ship has to be balanced around the axis of thrust or again the ship will tumble when thrust is applied. Cargo will have to be stowed in a balanced manner, and logged in a mass distribution schedule (sometimes called a "Center-of-mass and moment-of-inertia" chart). The same care has to be taken when removing part of the cargo as well.
As previously mentioned, present-day cargo ships are rated in "Net register tonnage", where each "ton" actually indicates 100 cubic feet of volume (2.83 cubic meters). The average cargo they carry has a density of 350 kg/m3. If the cargo has a wildly different density, some math will be needed, but for most cargo the net tonnage gives a good idea of the ship's cargo capacity. In practice, while filling the cargo hold it will either "mass-out" or "bulk-out", depending on which it runs out of first: lifting capacity or cargo space. In MANNA by Lee Correy (AKA G. Harry Stine) a surface-to-orbit shuttle bulked-out because it was carrying a cargo of fluffy non-dense cotton underwear. While the shuttle could have theoretically lifted more cargo mass, there wasn't any more room in the cargo hold.
In international shipping, a standard cargo container is 33 cubic meters and can have a maximum mass of 24 metric tons (2.2 tons of container and up to 21.8 tons of cargo). An extra large cargo container is 67.5 cubic meters with a max mass of 30.5 metric tons (3.8 ton container with up to 26.7 tons cargo). Thanks to Karl Hauber for pointing out an error in the the old figures posted here.
In cargo container terminology, the tare weight is the mass of the empty container. The gross weight is the mass of the loaded container. Subtract the tare weight from the gross weight and you will have the net weight: the mass of the goods being carried in the container.
In many SF novels, in addition to the cargo bay there will also be a safe to lock up small but valuable cargo items. This is generally in the Captain's office. And for customs officials, there may be official "seals" put on the openings of individual cargo crates or even on the hatches to the entire cargo bay. Such seals cannot be removed without destroying them, ensuring that nobody has tampered with the cargo or concealed any contraband.
There also might be an embargo locker. If the ship is carrying anything that is considered contraband at a given spaceport, such items can be sealed into the embargo locker by the spaceport custom officials for the duration of the stay.
There may also be a "ship's locker". This may be an actual locker or as large as a small cargo hold. It contains all the small stores and supplies the ship needs for day-to-day operations. Medical supplies, survival gear, small-arms locker, and the "slop chest". In between voyages, the purser replenishes the ship's locker at the spaceport chandlery. And as the ship gets older, stuff will accumulate.
These were common in the role playing game Traveller. Every adventurer's starship had a ship's locker stuffed full of useful equipment. Many Traveller magazines would have a monthly column called "ship's locker" with suggestions of cool stuff to stock.
Occasionally it will have three sections: General, Utility, and Repair.
- General: common items like medical supplies, space suits, arms locker and ammo, and bulk items
- Utility: cleaning supplies, office supplies, curios and sundries
- Repair: mission-critical spare parts, and routine maintenance parts (lubricants, filters, minor parts)
Sometimes Traveller starships will have a locker full of random stuff that has no obvious use (at the moment) but is too valuable to throw away. This is sometimes called a "hope chest". There could be all sorts of old amusing items lurking in the hope chest, forgotten but waiting. Especially if the chest is part of a second-hand starship purchased "as is".
The slop chest contains convenience items and consumables for the crew. The ship's purser sells slop chest items to the crew at cost or charged to the crewmember's unpaid salary. Such items include spare uniforms, junk food, toiletries, games, educational textbooks, and novels. In between voyages, the purser replenishes the slop chest at the spaceport chandlery.
Here is an interesting list of slop chest items for US wet-navy ships in 1942, with prices.