Summary: Kyrn think Jag is a crutch. Jag thinks Kyrn doesn't understand humans. Kyrn thinks he's an idiot – but he's still her friend, even if he has gone stupid about Major Solo. Posted on TF.N on 28 Nov 05.
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The office allocated to the Chiss Colonel is small and badly lit, and the furniture consists of old ejector seats from Y-wings and a battered desk from the basement. Jag gets the feeling that the décor in this base has been unchanged since the Rebels took it some twenty years ago.
Kyrn is standing before him, ramrod straight, and he tells her to be at ease. They haven't needed to stand on ceremony around each other in many years, but there are still the niceties of military courtesy to observe. He wonders what she wants to speak to him about.
"Colonel, permission to speak freely?"
"Yes, of course."
"I want to speak to you about your relationship with Major Solo."
And really, he'd been expecting this. In some ways, Kyrn was so very predictable. She was an excellent fighter-pilot who regularly executed the most daring aerial displays and destroyed the enemy with abandon, but she waited until she was absolutely that her commanding officer and friend was involved with another person before speaking of it.
Well, she can't be more sure after walking in on us yesterday, he thought ruefully, and wondered how long Kyrn's scold (Scold # 64: "Involvement With Your Commander is a Bad Idea, You Idiot") was going to last.
"Yes?"
"I don't think your personal relationship with Major Solo is a good idea, Jag."
"Even though she's nominally my superior, we're from different militaries, so there are no regulations against our involvement, and-" he says, trying to find an argument – any argument! – that will hold off the tone of consternation Kyrn takes on so easily when dealing with her strange human friend.
"That's not what I'm worried about, Jag, although I must say your counter-argument wouldn't hold up in military court and you know it. I'm more worried about the…emotional ramifications of your choice."
Jag raises an eyebrow. "Emotional ramifications?"
Kyrn hesitates uncharacteristically, then rushes the next sentence out as if she's embarrassed to even say it. "You're her crutch."
He raises and eyebrow in disbelief. "Since I'm not an inanimate object made of wood, metal, or plastic used to aid people unable to use a leg, I fail to see the comparison."
Kyrn gives him an exasperated look. "Instead of spending so much time in this office or the sims, you should perhaps spend more time observing the Rebel pilots. Crutch is their term for a very stupid man who doesn't notice he's being used by his girlfriend."
Jag grins slightly. "And you think I'm being used."
"No, Jag – I know it," she says with complete seriousness. "I don't pretend to understand the complexities of alien thought like Thrawn did, but I think I have learned enough about humans to understand them. She does not love you, and in some ways – many ways – she dislikes you. You are not compatible-" and Jag thinks that is very, very Chiss, because compatibility is the primary reason people to become involved. It's all about making a little more room in your life for the other person, and unspoken affection, but not…passion. Not as humans feel it.
"It's not about compatibility-"
"But it is. She's using you, Jag, because you won't die. She depends on you for that, because she is grieving and needs something or someone to center herself. When she stops grieving, she'll-"
"She'll what?" And his voice is harsh and insistent.
"She'll leave you, or she'll use you for some other purpose. I don't think she knows how to do anything other than that."
"No, you're wrong," he says, and his mouth is a thin white line. "She's hurt – damaged – but she can be fixed-"
"And when she is, she won't need her crutch anymore." And Kyrn's eyes are placid and kind and there is not a hint of the triumph he would find in anyone else.
They look at each other, and Kyrn sighs in relief as he grudgingly accepts the validity of her statement. He may not end his relationship with Major Solo – he may have to learn through experience – but Kyrn could only offer her advice and hope he thought about it.
He relaxes slightly, and asks, "So, are there any other new words you've learned from your Rebel friends?"
She smiles slightly at his attempt to change to subject, and say, mock-seriously, "Well, a good portion of the female mechanics call you a hunk. Apparently, they love a man who takes care of his own starfighter, yet gracefully accedes to their every demand…"