The Fat Man was obscenity compared to this: a woman doing the one thing she was born to do, for freedom. Even in a cavern with just a few Scarrans around to make it count, she is beautiful and strong. Here's a list of things that glow: Moya as she knits herself in the fabric of the universe, moving under its surface and in its infinity. Zhaan, as she finally passes over to the Goddess forever, without ever having met this woman, which whom she shares so much rage and passion and truth. Stark in the moment of his (sometimes her, don't forget) connection with the divine. She is his dark mirror, in service to higher ideals than anyone else has managed to retain, good or bad, that we've yet seen. There's a kind of grace in this that we could only see in Season Four, and no sooner: a beautiful and terrible revolution. Everything all at once, dark and white, both sides of an imaginary line. Your side, my side, and the side that both hates the conflict and becomes its avatar. The burning woman in her holiness and rage. No Peacekeepers, no Scarrans, just this burning girl, saying her holy No. This is how revolutions happen: people taste this state and realize how good it can feel to be revolting. She's Scorpius as he could be: leaving his fear and hatred behind, turning his face from the flowers and burning with that light. The taint in his rebellion removed, leaving only something terrible and bright. I mean, girlfriend gets no credit. This is the show's love letter to her, and all her sisters and brothers. You have to earn it.
(I promised I wouldn't do this anymore, but it's ridiculous: "Baba O'Reilly" just started on the shuffle. I don't know if that's retarded or what, but you should know that. It's making me laugh. Shuffle's got an effed sense of humor, quaint in its way.)