An unexpected connection of the dots—as discovered by Reddit user Mr_Twiddles—has given us a window into the fascinating moon logic of Starfield's economy. While Mr_Twiddles was misled by an admittedly convincing fan-made ship I wrote about earlier this month, they weren't far off.
The patty melt, which restores a whole 15 health, is priced at 295 credits. One starship from the gameplay deep dive is priced at 15,950 credits. That prices the starship at around 54 sandwiches, which either means starships are dirt cheap, or these melts are the equivalent of gold bars.
I'm now thinking back to that one sandwich hoarder from the direct—we all saw her fascination as a zany personal quest, like hoarding cheese wheels in Skyrim, but I actually think she's really onto something here.
If you're a space pirate, you don't want your currency digitised—it could be hacked by your rivals or even worse, taxed. Converting all of your credits into patty melts means you could sneak a literal fortune past inspection. Galaxy-brain level economics at play here. Forget crypto currency, forget NFTs, patty melts are the future.
If you're shopping on a budget, you could even get a ship for as little as 25 snacks—one of the ships in the direct was priced at a measly 7,375 credits. Out of morbid curiosity, I revisited their dive into food, and that ship is worth:
- 98 cartons of orange juice.
- 48 steaks.
- 210 slices of toast.
The most baffling of all were "trilo bites", just ten of which equate to a vessel that can soar through the stars. Ten. It's a bunch of bugs on a plate. Does the cool whip have gold leaf in it or something? Are the bugs unethically reared and only available on the black market? I need to know.
It's been rightfully pointed out on the thread by user MarshmallowBlue that the values listed are likely sell values, rather than purchase values, so you might not be able to actually buy these ships for those prices.
However, if you're an intergalactic criminal looking to steal ships for salvage, it might genuinely be more profitable—and easier—to just raid your victim's pantries. Sandwich lady, I'm sorry we ever doubted you.