The Let's Play Archive


by Blind Sally, nine-gear crow, et al.

Part 22: Chapter 7, Stages 1-3

This next chapter is a particularly egregious example of when Guerrilla decided to start padding out levels to increase the play time. Not a whole lot happens here, so we've cut down the three stages into a single "abridged" video. You're not missing anything, trust us.


Amongst the rolling hills of the North Vektan grasslands.

Enter Hakha, who approaches a downed Helghast and listens on their radio.

Enter Templar, Velasquez, and Luger opposite.

Jesus! You trying to give me a heart attack?

Yonder route tis abound with Helghast. Beyond lay a beacon, amidst those far hills. T'will be occupied, were I to guess. Nay, but we could move as swift as Hermes and as quiet as Hades, should we chose.

A beacon?

Aye. Tis an autonomous cartographer, mapping the land for the SD platforms above. Shall we?

Stay yourselves!

What's it saying?

Shut up your mouth! Tis General Adams. He moves for the beacon.

Jan, Adams is not our priority--

Do not take me for a fool, I know our mission, and right now that villain is a realistic target.

So let's go take him out!

Exit all


Enter Templar, Velasquez, Luger, and Hakha, having fought their way to the GPS beacon.

Adams, the fiend, he was never here!

T'was a set-up, and we tooketh the bait.

That's it!

'Sblood! Enough, Rico, enough!

Pray, tell that ninny that I was meant to o'erhear that message. My crime, my only crime, was that I doth believed it.

Well I don't trust that Ghast fuck. We got that information about Adams from him and now I say we ditch him. Don't wanna kill him? Fine. But I say we dump him. Cover our tracks.

As four, Jan, we have but one chance. We have none as three.

Even more calculations?

Nay, I do trust him, Jan.

Thou hath not to liketh the man, Rico, but pray, only to stand alongside him.

Oh man.

For what he hath done already. For he will do in the name of our cause. If he were to be capture, they shalt tar him and feather him, before being drawn and quartered. I trust he will stay by our side.

Exit Rico Velasquez and Hakha

Thou fancy he?

We need his strength, and his wit. Tis but a risk assessment.

Thou art changéd.



In space, aboard the SD platform.

Enter Caliban and Adams

Failed? God's blood! Failed? I cannot comprehend, there are but four of them!
Did I not order the attack? Did I not call for fire to rain down from the heavens upon them?
Did I not command our troops to lay into their flank and tear the flesh from their bones?
Did I not set up that encounter on my terms? How, then, did they walk away from it?

Thou seemeth perturbed, General.

Fear not, I shall have them.

No, General, I am afraid you will not. It seems to me that to hunt a Helghan, a Helghan must be sent. Thus, I shall take on the task myself. Worry not, I shall see to it that Scolar Visari is made aware of your contribution. Stay the course and await the Earth ships, I shall return.


I am sure you will.


"I had a little puppy for a while in Vekta. For a period of three days, I would take this little puppy and squeeze it until it would yelp. Or twist its little paw.

"I knew what I was doing. I knew that I was transferring something into this little puppy. Somebody or something had to suffer for all the pain inside of me, and it was going to be the puppy.

"I was so horrified by my behaviour that I gave the puppy to someone else. I had to get it out of my sight.

"I don't think I would have killed it, but I didn't quite know where this spark of sadism was going to lead me. It went against the grain of who I thought I was. I had a sense of being split in two."

It rises like a wave of nausea in your throat, out of nowhere, uncontrolled, the dry, bitter taste of evil.

You're walking the dog and in canine goofiness he insists on sniffing one empty square of sidewalk, holding his ground until you jerk the leash so hard the choke chain almost cuts his windpipe in two.

A child says "No" at just the wrong time and you swallow hard when you find yourself towering over your own flesh and blood with murder in your eye.

You actually slam on the brakes, jump out of the car and run back to rip the throat out of the tailgater behind you before he can roll up his windows.

An uneasy joke escapes from the knot of petty viciousness inside you and you seem to stand outside yourself as you watch it metamorphosize to malicious teasing.

Suddenly you're tormenting some other human being--usually someone you love--until he's ready to take a wild swing at you.

The feeling passes quickly leaving you shaking with every thump of your heart, wondering where in this sane and ordered world a psycho like that comes from.

But that psycho was you, the other you, the darker side, the one who knows all the nasty things you've done or thought in the privacy of your mind, the flipside of your conscience that hoards the merest slights and demands revenge no matter how petty, how misdirected.

No eighteen-year-old kid went to Vekta thinking, "Oh boy, now I'm going to be evil." But most of them met their darker sides face to face in that war.

A few of them had an adolescent meanness which blossomed ugly, nurtured by the circumstances they found in Vekta. Many of them indulged the ruthlessness they discovered as part of the instinct to survive.

For all the glory words like duty, honour and valour, war runs best on evil, a breeder reactor that vomits out a hell full of pain for the little spark of sadism people feed into it.

Evil was encouraged with rewards of medals, time off from the horror, a hot meal.

How else can you convince boys to kill one another day after day? And when the darker side grabs the upper hand, takes control, how else can it be excused?

Vektan veterans do not have the luxury of dismissing evil as a momentary aberration in an otherwise civilized world.

They have seen the ugliness humans are capable of inflicting--that they themselves are capable of inflicting.

The brutal stories are delivered with a nervous chuckle, dirty jokes from another world that don't quite survive translation. "I guess you had to be there".

But there is no enjoyment in the telling.

The hesitant laughter is self-defense, a shaky feint to keep the evil at arm's length. If the mortal slapstick can be kept in a cartoon life, maybe the shadow of inhumanity can be denied a little longer, the personal pain can be buried a little deeper."


Blind Sally convinced Putty to stop abusing absolutely shitty Skyrim mods for a few minutes and join him and Crow to comment on the most boring stretch of an already boring game--everyone involved immediately regretted it.

Regardless, Putty was a good enough sport to not just suffer through this level once, but TWICE after the original commentary audio was lost in, and I quote, “an incident we no longer talk about.” If Killzone is boring you as much as it’s boring the fuck out of Crow right now, then check out Putty’s (100% Lore-Friendly!) Skyrim Mods LP thread, specifically the video where he takes Sally and Crow to space with him.

This is the unique Helghast that was hanging around at the GPS beacon at the end of our "reverse tower defense" segment. He is equipped with a laser designator (the helmet combined with a gun-like targetting device), which paints ground targets for Helghast artillery to rain fire upon. Sounds like a fun weapon, right? It sure would be fun to use it ourselves, right? Use the Helghast's own weapons against them, eh?

We start with it next mission!