Weightless

Chapter One

A/n: This is chapter one of Weightless, which is an angst-ridden, slow-burn, kylo ren x reader, for all you other angst whores!

"Good morning," General Hux said with his usual lack of emotion, placing your data pad on your desk with a kind of gentle firmness. "It's been updated to your new security clearance. I trust you'll use it well."

"Of course, General, thank you," You replied quickly, used to Hux's blanketed threats, which seemed pointless seeing as you're only a linguist (albeit the best linguist in the entire galaxy, if you do say you yourself).

Shrugging at Hux's temperamental ways, you proceeded to get to work, logging onto your computer. You had just been moved to the bridge and granted a higher clearance in order to aid in crucial translation of various transmissions the First Order intercepted. In the large gap between transmissions, however, your focus was instead on less important, menial tasks that have dominated your work since your beginnings within the First Order.

Today was no different, and you begin to sift through the documents clogging your queue. Much of it was unimportant, but any private transmissions or messages within the first order that were in a language other than English were sent to translators, as droid could not be tasked with understanding subtle differences in phrasing and connotations between languages. Mostly the messages contained nothing of importance, but occasionally you or another translator would catch traitorous plans or sentiments, but much more commonplace was amateur reader-insert porn about your three commanding officers. You and the other translators that worked for you dismissed these as harmless, in order to spare everyone the embarrassment of acknowledging their existence. Unfortunately, you did have to read these all the way through, in case they were covers for subordination.

Your workday progressed normally, reading through about six or seven full length sex scenes involving Hux, Ren, Phasma, and even all three. You couldn't help but be amused by the wild speculation of what the Commander looked like under that mask. Some simply left the mask on. You had to admit, some of these were extremely well written, and the ones about your Commander were the only ones that would ever occasionally get to you, but you figured it was only because Hux was generally dislikable and Phasma was more of a pleasant acquaintance. Kylo Ren, however, remained an enigma. Faceless, unstable and downright dangerous, you wanted no part of that. You just wanted to survive, for once. Kylo Ren was antonymous with survival.

As if on cue, the enigma himself emerged onto the bridge, bringing a tense energy and almost immediate silence. Kylo Ren did not work on the bridge. When Kylo Ren appeared on the bridge, it was never a good sign. Hux nodded at the Commander, and did not seem surprised by the man's sudden appearance. He approached your desk rapidly, and it soon became clear that you were the one he needed. You tensed as he grew nearer, feeling frustration roll off him in waves. You stood when he reached your desk, saluting.

"Commander Ren."

"Y/n?" Ren's toneless voice asked.

"Yes." You responded clearly, though your thoughts were running wild. You've only been with the First Order for less than a year, what could you have possibly done to warrant the attention of someone so powerful and important and dangerous?

"Follow me." Kylo Ren was not a man of many words, it appeared.

Nervously, you followed the Commander down what seemed to be endless corridors and hallways that mysteriously emptied whenever you turned down them. Eventually he stopped, so suddenly you almost ran into him. You were in a cramped and deserted corridor, stopped outside a door that was almost completely hidden, save the small control panel that Ren had opened, exposing the access keypad. Ren quickly input his code and stepped inside, into a small, dark room. Before you can look around, he speaks.

"You're afraid." It isn't a question. It's a statement of fact. Unsure of how to answer, you swallow nervously, clasping your hands behind your back. "You shouldn't be."

"If I may say so, Commander, I've been taken by the most feared man in the galaxy to a small, dark, otherwise deserted room without any knowledge as to why," you said steadily, unsure of where this bold voice had come from. "I think it's safe to say that a mere linguist such as myself ought to be."

"You're more than a mere linguist," he said, almost softly. Behind the mangled voice, you could swear his tone was gentle, almost kind. Any softness evaporated when he next spoke. "I've brought you here because of your particular talents, actually," Ren stated, as if it were obvious. "I need to interrogate an important member of the resistance, but you're the only one that I trust to correctly translate, and I suspect that you are the only one aboard that speaks this language, regardless. I suspect that he speaks our language, but I cannot seem to force him into a language to which he is not native."

"I understand. Have you identified the language?"

"No. I was hoping you could." Was that sarcasm you detected?

"Of course. Show him to me."

With this, Ren flicked on the lights revealing a two way mirror and, through it, a man strapped to an interrogation chair. He seemed to be unconscious.

"I will proceed into the interrogation room. If you put one of these on," the Commander tossed a comms headset to you, "you will be able to translate, and provide me with the necessary phrases in his language," he instructed. Suppressing your incredulity at the idea of even Commander mastering the pronunciation of any language on command, you agreed and put on the headset, while Ren entered the interrogation room.

The man awoke, choking for air. Straining against his restraints, eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he grasped blindly for air. Eventually, Ren released him, and allowed him to catch his breath. Fear rolled off the man in waves, so strong you could almost taste it.

"Speak," Ren demanded.