Hello everyone and welcome back to another blog post. Let’s be real for a second. You’ve probably got 47 unfinished Terraria worlds, a Minecraft server that’s been abandoned since the last admin drama, and you just rage-quit No Man’s Sky because a sentinel drone clipped through a trading post.
And now you’re looking at Starbound. The space sandbox where you can literally be a floran who eats people (don’t @ me), build a colony on a volcanic moon, and accidentally summon a eldritch horror because you misclicked a violin.
Welcome. You’re going to love how absurd this gets.
Step 1: Stop Picking the “Human” Like a Basic NPC
Look, humanity is fine. Boring, but fine. However, Starbound gives you seven playable races, each with lore that actually matters (unlike your ex’s promises).
- Florans: Plant people who speak in third person and think “friendship” means “not eating you today.” Peak chaotic energy.
- Hylotl: Fish weebs with floating cities and the patience of a saint. Also, they look great in kimonos.
- Glitch: Self-aware medieval robots. Imagine a toaster that quotes Shakespeare while being sad about its own existence.
- Novakid: Literally a cowboy made of plasma. They glow. They ride horses on asteroids. They are what happens if you let a 10-year-old design a space alien.
The game doesn’t force stats on you, so pick whatever makes you laugh. Just know that choosing “Human” in 2026 is like ordering plain toast at a Michelin-starred brunch.
Step 2: Your First Hour Will Be Pure, Unfiltered Panic
Chuckfish (the devs, who actually still support this game, shocking right?) designed the intro to humiliate you gently.
Your ship explodes. You crash on a random planet. You have a broken sword, 3 pixels, and a penguin named SAIL who speaks to you like a disappointed HR manager.
Pro Tip (that the game won’t tell you):
Immediately mine dirt. No, really. Dirt is your best friend. Stack it to reach high places, plug lava, and build a dirt hut because the first night’s monsters will absolutely destroy you. This isn’t Minecraft where you can fist-fight a zombie. These creatures have attitude.
And for the love of all that is pixelated: craft a bow before you try to melee a radioactive space toad. You will die. You will rage. You will learn.
Step 3: The “Main Quest” Is a Suggestion, Like a Traffic Light at 3 AM
Technically, you need to scan random objects, upgrade your ship, and beat six bosses to finish the story. Realistically, you’ll spend 40 hours building a skyscraper on a desert planet while completely ignoring the eldritch horror that’s slowly corrupting the universe.
And that’s fine.
Starbound shines when you go “off-script.” Want to become an intergalactic landlord? Build a colony, assign tenants, and watch them pay you in weird guns and cheese. Want to be a chef? Cook a pizza so good it gives you temporary invincibility. Want to be a farmer? Congrats, you’re now a space farmer with 200 plot vines and a deep hatred for birds.
The game doesn’t care. That’s the beauty.
Step 4: Mods Turn This Game Into a Whole New Universe.
Vanilla Starbound is solid. But modded Starbound in 2026? It’s essentially Starbound 2: Electric Boogaloo.
The community is still absurdly active. Two mods you cannot skip:
- Frackin’ Universe: Adds 4,000+ new items, 300+ new biomes, and a science system so deep you’ll need an Excel spreadsheet. It’s the Dark Souls of mods. It will break you. You will thank it.
- Shellguard: A StarCraft-meets-Guardians of the Galaxy vibe with new mechs, bosses, and an actual ending that doesn’t make you cry.
Proceed with caution. Once you go modded, you never go back. Your save file will mock you.
Step 5: The Multiplayer Is Either Bliss or a War Crime
Playing with friends? You’ll build a shared space station, colonize a jungle moon, and have genuine moments of “whoa, look at that sunset.”
Playing with randoms? You’ll log in to find your ship flooded with lava, a floran named “xX_PlantDaddy_Xx” wearing your armor, and a sign that says “pay 5k pixels or I delete your pet.”
Word of advice: host your own server or stick to co-op with people you trust. The Starbound community is 90% wonderful artists and 10% absolute gremlins. Guess which ones you’ll find first.
Final Verdict (Because You Need Someone to Tell You What to Think)
Starbound is not perfect. The combat is floaty. The inventory management will make you question your life choices. And yes, you will die because you forgot to refuel your ship.
But in an era of live-service games begging for your wallet and your soul, Starbound is a one-time purchase that hands you the keys to a thousand planets and says “go be an idiot, we believe in you.”
So go. Mine that dirt. Befriend that fish person. Cook that cursed pizza.
And for the last time: save before you fight the Ruin. You’ve been warned.
*Enjoy your 200-hour detour. We’ll see you in the stars, you beautiful disaster.*