With every victory there must be some great humiliation - Eve knows this by now. She's a born loser, and this is her crew.
Mar and Jane's final exchange is almost a lament. There is some deep psychic continuity that makes the love of your life perfect, uncanny, by your own design. How can they be real? And if they are, how long can such an unlikely thing be sustained? It's a question that deserves to be both soberly considered, and fully taken for granted.