The good news for our heroine is that, while her weight was definitely enough to seesaw that giant glass pane around, it is not enough for her to just cannonball her way into a bloody death in the blades of this fan. She pushes inch by inch into the tunnel, and once she’s done destroying the hapless robots, she discovers a platform that very much looks like an aircraft launchpad. To get to the console that controls the fan she has to get into the draft of the platform for just long enough to move the five feet across to it without being blown backward again. It’s this or just running in place indefinitely, which I guess makes this room a massive treadmill for the workers if they get sick of swimming. Wilhelm takes care of his employees who have to live down here and have forgotten what their families look like!

With the fan off, Shion can climb a ladder up to the platform, which turns out to be a giant elevator. Yes, you read that correctly: a ladder that leads to an elevator. Does the U.M.N. have some kind of accessibility compliance branch? Because this is some shit. Worse, it’s a tiny ladder that could easily be replaced by a short ramp. Worse still, there’s no reason this platform couldn’t have been built flush into the floor, except for the need to draft off it to avoid the fan that is running in here for Reasons.

At the top of the elevator, Shion finds herself in a room full of monitors, and in a cutscene. The second her feet leave the elevator platform and touch the room’s floor, sirens blare from the ceiling. A female voice says, “Warning. This area is currently off-limits to unauthorized personnel. Please leave immediately.” Well, in that case! Shion will just throw herself back down the wind tunnel, cross the swimming pool covered in glass, ascend the stairs back into the storage closet, leap back up onto the conveyor belts, and be on her way! Two more robots teleport into the room, because that is a thing they can do suddenly, to encourage Shion to take that elevator back down. This would feel more threatening if Shion hadn’t already dispatched like 20 of these things to get this far. The bots dealt with and no further escalation forthcoming, she heads through the door to where the KOS-MOS-COPTER is waiting.

In a cutscene, Shion ascends into the craft on a motorized rope, which I normally would not say looks like a loose string of anal beads, but as this is one more accessory for Shion’s sex toy, and the rope is very much moving jerkily into the craft’s ass, the comparison jumps out at me. She asks Corey how it’s looking, and Corey, already inside, tells her the power’s on and to hurry up and get in. Listen, dude, she is inserting at a pace that’s comfortable for everyone, and no good ever came from rushing this process. Except another alarm sounds and a group of rifle-wielding, Vector-brand Realians burst through the door, so maybe hurrying would be good. “Ah, but it looks like we’re a little late,” Shion says. “We’re kind of surrounded.” There’s no way this craft doesn’t have weaponry out the asshole–it’s for KOS-MOS, for Christ’s sake. Her tampons are bullets.

Corey steels himself and tells Shion, “Hang on tight, Chief.” My dude, she is on a rope, I hope you’re not just going to fly this thing out into space and think she can “hang on.” Wait, I take that back, please do that exact thing. Shion yells at him to wait, though she doesn’t try CLIMBING FASTER OR AT ALL. But as it turns out, she doesn’t really need to hang on, as Corey’s plan is to unload the craft’s double machine guns (obviously) at the Realians, yelling in rage like Skinny Bowl Cut Rambo. I’ve clipped it for you because it’s just real fucking funny.

By the time the Realians have been engulfed in a fireball from Corey blowing up a nearby, uh, gas tank, Shion has loaded herself behind him into the cockpit, and amazingly has nothing negative to say about the Realians, Who Are People Too, that he’s just murdered. She only says, “Not bad. [Corey], I’m impressed!” It’s possible Shion was taken out by a Pod Person between the rope climb and now–the camera was distracted with Corey’s metaphorical dick-waving and anything is possible. “Well,” Corey replies, “it’s all part of being a man!” On its own this is a sad sentence, but it’s doubly sad because he’s still obviously hung up on Shion’s words from earlier and did this just to impress her, and only secondarily to keep them both alive. “And the power of love!” he adds, with a “cool” finger point at no one. Oh boy. The launch bay doors open with a whoosh, and Shion asks, “Did you say something?” Oh boy again. She absolutely heard him, but it’s better for both of them that she pretend otherwise.

“I’m gonna floor it,” Shion declares. “Hang on tight.” Wait, now she’s piloting? I hope there are no pedestrians going for a spacewalk out there. As she’s revving the craft’s Ovary Engines, we abruptly cut to an extreme close-up on the red eyes of Shion’s boss, Wilhelm. The camera zooms out to take in the view from Wilhelm’s office as the lavender craft hurtles through space past the Dämmerhung and gates out in a flash of pink light, bright blue jet trails in its wake. Wilhelm seems unruffled by the fact that one of his mid-level staffers just stole a top-secret spacecraft, but that could mean a lot of things. This guy wouldn’t react to getting a Gatorade bath at the end of winning the Super Bowl. And maybe that’s because it too is ALL PART OF HIS GAME PLAN.

The Man in Red (Still Definitely Not Kevin) tells Wilhelm, who has his back to him and his left arm held slightly crooked behind his back in a way no one actually stands naturally, “We’ve detected Albedo’s ascension.” Oh shit, did Albedo really go up that Stairway to Heaven? No, that just can’t be, for several obvious reasons. Wilhelm’s like, “Cool,” and then adds, “He did well. The lock has been opened and the obstacle removed. The rest is up to her.” Oh god, does he mean Shion? And that was all so easy because he wanted her to go? Really? REALLY?

Just so you know I’m cocking my head so hard that I just hurt my neck. Middle age kicks ass!

“Will matters proceed smoothly?” Hella Not Kevin at All wonders. In an alternate universe where he is Kevin, he knows Shion, so this is a natural question. “She is suited for the task,” Wilhelm replies. (What task? Yeah, actually, I do have some theories, and none of them are kind.) “There will be no problems.” I guess it’s easy to say there won’t be any problems when you kind of sort of see the future and therefore every actual problem there is just leads to a future you already know, and therefore had to happen. He then says some stuff about free will and good and evil and the morals of the collective and the pinnacle of humanity being indifference to morality and kindness, which I will spare you because I love you. As Ne Pas De Kevin stares inscrutably–the bird beak mask over his entire face helps with this–Wilhelm asks him, “Her awakening–KOS-MOS’ awakening–will lead us to that summit. Don’t you agree?” Obviously this is rhetorical, as Wilhelm has probably never cared in his life if someone agreed with him, let alone a subordinate, so when The Black Hole of Kevinness doesn’t respond, he plows forward as if nothing happened. “In any case, the intermission is over and the players stand upon the stage. All that remains is to wait for the knight to appear. And for that, it is necessary that someone play the role of the villain.” I don’t have enough arms to make the necessary number of jackoff motions at this. I am not an octopus.

Whoever Wilhelm has in mind for this, Tabula Kevina clearly doesn’t think much of his choice, but Wilhelm waves it off with, “The greater the suffering, the more exciting the drama.” This may as well be seventeen blaring red neon arrows pointing at a photo of Albedo. Also, again, Jesus, can this pretentious sentient cowlick just eternally fuck off. Who asked for evil CHAOS!!!? That wasn’t me, was it you?

Someone’s been hanging out on /r/redpill.

In a first for me, I am relieved to get back to Shion. She and Corey are cruising along through space, apparently halfway between the Dämmerhung and Miltia, with no other ships in sight, when all of a sudden, there are like a hundred ships in sight! Oh no! This was the perfect plan! Basically the entirety of the Immigrant Fleet gates out right in their path and fires lasers at them. Shion is bobbing and weaving through this cat’s cradle of death, during this, the first time we’ve ever seen her personally pilot a spacecraft, because of course she is. But one of the Immigrant Fleet ships, which looks kind of like the Hall of Doom, stays right on her, performing zippy maneuvers that Corey insists are “well beyond the limits of the human body!” I immediately assume the pilot is Sting, or at least someone into tantrism who has been in a space movie before. The Hall of Doom fires eight red lasers from its sides, now looking like a horrifying spider drone. Even Shion Uzuki, Prodigy Pilot, cannot escape from such an onslaught, and their craft is hit. Corey wails about their shields being down and Shion’s like “I know!” because there’s no bad time to be bitchy at your friend who’s about to die because you make bad decisions. The mysterious other ship has Shion and Corey in its sights as it charges up for a big blast, turning sideways and fanning out its artillery like a space peacock (yes, this thing is all over the place). Shion screams…

…which, halfway back across the fucking galaxy, activates a certain android’s big phallic bed-slash-charging station. In the dark, various Vector jumpsuits, including I think the infamous director, wonder what’s going on and back away as KOS-MOS starts up of her own accord, with plenty of dry ice vapor pouring out of her coffin for effect. “But that’s not possible,” the director whispers, when this has happened, what, at least two times before? Come on, buddy, at least read the abstracts when you take on someone else’s project. Even if they were written in lipstick on the back of curry house napkins.

Okay guys, settle down.

KOS-MOS stands before the windows she just opened to the Second Miltia sunshine, the light catching the new lavender highlights in her blue hair. (Gotta make sure she and the craft she’ll be imminently taking possession of have the same color story!) The Vector dorks stare at her, trembling, not unreasonably assuming she’s about to murder them all. Instead, KOS-MOS lifts one hand to her phallus bed, which converts Transformers-style into an extremely overdesigned motorcycle. She climbs on and does an unnecessary donut in the room, sending the jumpsuits flying out of her path, so she is pointed at the open window. The director finds his voice quickly enough to ask her where she thinks she’s going, though he’s too scared to add the “missy” he surely normally would. “Shion. Shion is calling me,” KOS-MOS replies. The director is like, “Fuck outta here.” I relate. While everyone is processing that, KOS-MOS’s Phallocycle forms a laser staircase (not a ramp, there are actual stairs!) and without another word she revs the engine and blasts on out of there.

Back to Shion. I know, I’m sorry too. Corey is loudly coming to terms with his imminent demise, to which Shion snaps at him, “I thought you were a man!” Oh, you did not. She adds, “Quit whining and shoot something!” and maybe Amelia fucking Earhart here should just take the gunner controls too if she’s so goddamn capable. The Hall of Doom gets ready to fire again, along with all the smaller Immigrant Fleet ships, and just when Shion is wondering if this is it for Girl Genius and That Other Guy, blue lasers come out of nowhere, scoring direct hits on the escort ships. Why, it’s KOS-MOS, who’s traveled here from Second Miltia in roughly three seconds! She rolls up, all cocky casualness, like she’s just arrived at Sturgis with her old lady sitting behind her. Her next act after blowing up most of their adversaries is to announce she’s putting Shion’s craft in “control mode B,” code for “Bitch, I’m flying now.” She adds that Shion should prepare for “docking,” a word with which Shion seems to have a great deal of trouble, even though the one and only thing she knows about the ship she’s currently inside is that it was MADE FOR KOS-MOS. And if there’s one thing she knows about KOS-MOS, it’s all the ways in which she can, ahem, dock with various accessories. After all these years it still astounds me how she is the dumbest about the things she is supposed to know the best.

A screen within the craft shows the process of KOS-MOS’s Phallocycle converting to a third seat as she flies smoothly in behind and takes a seat above Shion. As soon as she’s in command, the craft stretches out its limbs, including delicate metal hands and (of course) tiny booted feet and poses at the end of its magical girl transformation into a mech. Surprise! It’s a mech, too! What’s more, it’s an E.S.! We have not been told this yet, of course, but when KOS-MOS’s eyes change from their customary red to their limited edition Mary Sue Blue, we know her bond with this craft is special. A light show takes over the cabin and Shion watches in shock as the E.S. links up with the vestigial remains of the Phallocycle and fires a massive blue jizz beam, wiping out all the remaining ships and only missing the Hall of Doom (spoiler, but duh, also an E.S.) because it gates out just in time. The KOS-MOS-TRON stands triumphantly atop its cool vehicle accessory, awash in the crescendo of her extremely Sailor Moon SuperS theme music and the blue glow of a lot of dead Immigrant Fleet pilots.

I’ll admit I fist pumped at this.

Once the light show’s over, Shion leans back in her chair with a very sexually satisfied sigh. “I think…we’re saved,” she says to Corey, whom I can barely believe she even remembers is there. KOS-MOS lets her and Corey know that is correct and there are no more enemy craft around. Shion at least has the grace where KOS-MOS is concerned to thank her for the rescue and not start in with what the fuck she’s doing here. Corey should know his standing just by seeing how Shion is with someone she actually cares about, but it’s going to take him a lot longer to figure this out. And we all get to be along for the ride! For another game and a half! Yay!

An irritating buzz indicates, per Corey, a transmission coming in. “A transmission?” Shion asks. Yeah, knew my girl had one more in her for the recap! Everybody drink. The call turns out to be from–oh, thank Christ–Captain Matthews. “Yo, Miss Vector!” he slurs. “That was quite a show you put on out there.” My dude the Boozer King should know better than to think Shion did that shit. Shion of course recognizes his voice and says so, though apparently her comms aren’t open, since he adds, “If you’re alive, say something already!” He has to be hoping she won’t, right? Like, he sent this call because he felt duty-bound to help, but he’s crossing his fingers that he doesn’t have to deal with her ever again? I may be projecting. Either way, Shion and Corey look on in delight as the Elsa gates in right above them and beams them aboard.

I am now in control of Shion just inside the Elsa’s airlock, and as much as I want to see and talk to anyone not named Shion fucking Uzuki right now, I think this is a good place to take my leave of this hot mess. Next time, the reunited gang makes for Old Miltia, and no obstacles will stand in their path, putting off that long-awaited moment for at least one more recap, if not two. Neat! It’ll be smooth sailing in part 8!