Having a mortgage and parents in Starfield has turned me into a credit-hungry mercenary

As a rule of thumb, I try to be upstanding in my first playthrough of a game. I'll help those in need without expecting anything in return, refuse any dodgy dealings that may come my way, and just generally try to be as good as I can be. Roleplaying as someone who makes morally gray or, for want of a better word, evil, choices comes in subsequent runs. While I had much the same intentions in Starfield when I first stepped into my space boots, my traits have unexpectedly skewed my approach and turned me into a credit-hungry adventurer who puts my need for money above anything or anyone else. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm still trying to lend a hand where I can, but there's no way I'm doing it out of the goodness of my heart anymore. Not when my Dream Home and Kid Stuff traits mean I have a 125,000 credit mortgage and parents to support. With people relying on me, a picturesque house to secure, and the hopes of upgrading my current ship or purchasing more impressive vessels, I've taken to picking any dialogue options that demand payment for my efforts like some unapologetic mercenary. If there's ever a chance to persuade someone out of more money, all the better. Now, whenever I see anyone seeking aid, all I see are walking, talking credit symbols. Altruism is dead. Oh no, what have I become?

Responsibilities  

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It's true that I've only got myself to blame for picking two Starfield traits that incrementally take credits out of my pocket and lump me with a sizable loan I need to repay, but my curiosity got the better of me. I just loved the idea of getting lost in the fantasy of space exploration only to immediately be brought back down to earth by having a mortgage. It's also endlessly funny to me that even when you're a member of Constellation who's trying to unlock the very mysteries of the galaxy, your in-game mom still pesters you about your love life, or asks if there's anything you'd like her to pick up when she pops out to get groceries. 

My parents in Starfield don't really ask for much, all things considered, and the rewards so far seem to outweigh the cost. 10% of the money I earn is automatically sent to them, but I've already gotten some sweet hand-me-downs from my relatives, such as my Gran-Gran's spacesuit and a pretty cool pistol. Still, knowing that I want to keep them happily situated in New Atlantis fuels my drive for credits. After all, it's not just me and my crew I need to take care of. Would my parents be proud of some of the dialogue options I've chosen? Probably not, but what they don't know can't hurt them. 

The Dream Home trait means I have a big adobe on the picturesque planet of Nesoi in the Olympus System. Of course, I had to take out a 125,000 credit mortgage to get it, but in the Starfield universe, the bank seems pretty chill about me taking my time. Until I can pay off the sum in full, I can either enter the house by spending a little 500 credit interest, or let Galbank foreclose on the property. But this is my Dream Home we're talking about, and I'm about to give that up for anything. 

Until I can clear my loan, I've decided to hold off on decorating what is, for the time being, a giant empty shell of a house that hangs over me. There might not be any pressure to square away the fee immediately, but it's always in the back of my mind and only adds to my desire to get my hands on as much dosh as I can. So, with a house to pay off and parents to look after, I've set about trying to take full advantage of any lucrative opportunities that present themselves while also attempting to maintain my self-imposed moral code. As it turns out, though, you can't always have your cake and eat it, too. 

Piggy bank 

Some spoilers ahead for the mission First Contact 

As I made my way through some of the main early story missions in Starfield, I was steadily raking in credits, but not fast enough for my tastes. During my bouts of exploration both in space and planetside, I scouted for outposts, visited cities in the United Colonies for chance meetings, and kept an eye out for passing ships that may be in distress. Basically anything that spelled earning credits without crossing the line into piracy or murder. After completing a handful of missions I'd randomly stumbled upon which had bagged me a modest sum, I came across an old colony ship by the name of ECS Constant. 

Before I knew it, I was tied up in a mission titled 'First Contact', which saw me helping the colony find a new home on the nearby planet of Porrima 2. I'd made my demands for compensation up front, but this task in particular would prove to be a true test between my need for credits and my desire to do right by the people of the ship. 

The planet they wished to colonize was already occupied by the Paradiso resort, where I'm sent to try and negotiate a deal. With the diplomat background, I figured my effort to rank up my persuasive prowess would have this all resolved in a quick fashion and I'd walk away richer. What I'm instead presented with are three choices that are all less than desirable. Either the colonists join the resort as indentured servants in all but name, I straight up murder them, or pay for a grav drive to be retrofitted on my own dime. The latter decision seemed to be the best option for all parties involved… all except me, of course. Shelling out money on behalf of perfect strangers certainly wasn't going to help me put a dent in my loan, but I had to do 'the right thing', didn't I? 

Feeling somewhat defeated, I agreed to get this grav drive and even managed to talk down the asking price, but it still cost me a cool 25,000 credits. Naturally, when I'd completed my task, I wasn't about to walk away without some kind of reward. The captain had the gall to put me down for asking for money instead of helping without expecting anything, but c'mon. After I'd done so much for the colony? All you're going to give me are some antique hockey sticks, basketballs, and… a piggy bank? Granted the piggy bank is cute, but I couldn't look past the irony of it. 

Had I stopped for just a moment to inspect the items properly, I'd have seen that these antiques are actually worth a hearty sum. But it was at this precise moment I came to realize how much my traits had changed my perspective. Usually I'd have been happy to help these people without needing anything in return. Now, I'd gotten so credit hungry I couldn't look past my own indignation at being handed a bunch of old sports balls for a mission well done. While I could have sold off the piggy bank, the smiling pink antique now resides in my yet to be paid for empty home, serving as a reminder that credits aren't the be all and end all of everything… even if it feels like it when you have a mortgage and parents relying on you. 

Looking for your next adventure? Check out our pick of the 10 best games like Starfield you can play in 2023.