The room smelt faintly rotten, with little creaks and electricity flickering from the damaged overhead lamp that illuminated the distasteful room. The harsh white light flashed against the metal walls, which crawled with peeling paint and rusted nails. This is where they had set up base for the time being. The Order needed to stay away from the light of day. The accident had already caused too much attention to their inner workings, and Snoke didn't need any more of that. Hux knew that especially, which was why he nearly snapped his fingers after wringing them together one too many times while waiting for Snoke to arrive at the nondescript meeting he called. If there was a word to describe Hux's boss, it would be... tardiness. He had a habit of being late to important things.
Just as Hux was about to fracture another one of his leather-clad fingers, Snoke stepped inside, closing the metal door behind him. He was an older man in his late fifties who had inherited the clan from his mentor after murdering him in front of his wife and cousin, who were subsequently discarded too. He wore a gold pocket watch that obviously cost a fortune, which hid away in the pocket of his tailored waistcoat that did little to cover his beer belly from years of misuse.
"Sir." Hux said, nodding his head towards the older man, who only acknowledged him with a side glance.
"Anything from our contact in France yet?" Snoke asked, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets and turning towards the ginger man.
"The Jubilee's date has been set, and the Prime Minister will be there. Most likely for networking and alliances. Press exposure as well. He's been suspecting another war in Georgia for years now." Hux recited, recounting the details from the call he received yesterday from Cardo.
"And he'll be out in the open?"
"It would be hard to hide him in such a public event, although it will be a large crowd. A centralized, discreet attack would be most effective. I could send one of my men to scout it out." Hux replied.
"Tell Cardo I need the exact date, the venue, and how he'll be getting there. This is our last chance." Snoke demanded before exiting the room promptly, leaving Hux alone in the dimming glow.
●●●
"Is there anyone else?!" Ben shouted, standing victorious over Walsh, who was lying defeated on the wrestling mats, sweaty and exhausted. He trudged over to me, slumping down on the metal benches, and tossed his sports gloves to the side, which were also drenched in sweat.
"Have fun?" I laughed. I watched the entire set between Walsh and Ben, which I admit was pitiful on my friend's part. Ben nearly stripped the thinner man of his pride, sending him off with his tail between his legs.
"What do you think?" He said snidely before letting out a humorous chuckle. "You try having your shit rocked by a man twice your size."
I laughed at his remark before getting up from my seat and cracking my knuckles, a rush of adrenaline sending my brain spinning.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Getting my shit rocked by a man three times my size," I smirked, then headed towards the mats, where Ben was still celebrating his easily acquired win.
Stepping onto the mats, my calloused feet left gentle imprints as I walked, before standing my ground in front of the tall man. Then, puckering my lips, I let out a pitched whistle, catching my opponent's attention.
"Well, if it isn't our resident battleaxe." He chuckled, watching the flame burning in my eyes glow brighter.
"Shut it, nepo." A few fellow agents whistled at my comeback, turning towards the incoming match. It was common for these fights to happen in the training room, although they were more like scraps for fleeting pieces of dignity in this giant organization.
![Just for Him [Kylo Ren x Reader] by saamanthaaaxx](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/237141345-80-k576828.jpg)
Resistance: an American government-affiliated project to train and send out spies and agents to protect the country's allies and thwart wars before they even begin. Headed by Training Officers Organa and Solo, original members of the Alliance, that fought against the Imperial Regime, a fascist, power-hungry dominion that attempted to take over the entire world. After the Regime was defeated, there was no use for the Alliance to exist anymore. So it was scrapped and replaced by Resistance to train people to prevent world wars like that from ever happening again.
Ben and I were placed in the special unit's facility, international undercover agents sent all around the globe on behalf of the American government; morally grey tasks are our assignments, the ones that no one else wanted. Ben had grown up in this lifestyle, "bring your child to work day," and "what do your parents do for a living" presentations. So after leaving the Naval Academy, he was thrown straight into training, under the watchful eye of his parents, of course, Leia Organa and Han Solo.
On the other hand, I wasn't born into this lifestyle. I wasn't anything special until I made myself to be. Average, lower-middle-class lifestyle, and a childhood I don't really remember. Not that it was tragic or anything, just simply not memorable. I joined the army to participate in Military Intelligence but was transitioned over after a few years of in-service. I quickly made a home with the Resistance, albeit the dull, lifeless dorms and limited contact made it hard to feel close to anyone. But that was the point, to be dull, to be lifeless. To survive, you have to be cold. You can't have any weaknesses because they'll be your downfall.
"Come to challenge the champion?" Ben scoffed, swinging his head from side to side and cracking his neck.
"Someone's got to keep your ego in check." I said, then charged at him head-on.
The fight was quick, scrappy. Tackling Ben to the ground, I managed to get the man in a headlock, my arm wrapped around his neck, hand gripping onto my other forearm, and his massive hands attempting to pull me off him. He gasped, sucking in a sharp breath, and pulled hard. With a jolt, my arms came loose, and I let out a shocked gasp. Then he threw me over his head, flat on my back. Gasping for air, my lungs exhaled quicker than I could inhale, I tried to spin around to face him but was tackled again. He grabbed my wrists, locking them behind my back, and held me firmly to the ground as I squirmed and exhaled a plethora of curse words.
"Do you tap out?" Ben asked, a hint of a smirk in his voice that I couldn't see. This asshole.
"Fuck you." I spat. With my words, he let go, getting off the ground and back to the wall of equipment, whereas I stood up slowly, wringing my wrists like a wounded puppy, and walked back to Walsh, who was smirking as well.
"You lasted longer than I thought you would." He said, leaning back and crossing his arms, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. I stuck out my tongue at him before a voice came over the intercom, calling my name.
"-report to conference room number six in five minutes."
A couple of agents laughed, including Ben, who was still flushed and smiling, who called across the room to me.
"Lick your wounds, sweetheart. And if you see my parents, tell them I said hello." He laughed; the hearty, ickiness of it struck deeply. Frowning, I picked up my things, covered my sweaty arms with a thin jacket, and made my way upstairs.
●●●
"Officer Organa, I didn't expect you to be here."
"Officer Solo should be here in a few minutes or so. You know how he is." The older woman shook her head, the smile lines arching downwards. "Once he arrives, we'll brief you on everything you need to know."
"Another mission?"
"They never stop," Organa said. We sat in silence for a couple of moments, and I admired the cityscape from the broad, one-sided glass. It was a gloomy day, the sun peeking through the clouds ever so often, rays of sunlight cast upon the washed-out, gunmetal grey buildings. The Resistance had headquarters worldwide, seven major bases, one for each continent, and small ones placed sporadically in their allied countries. Not everyone was a spy or an agent, mostly just enforcers who worked alongside regional governments and their respective armies, with basic military training to build off of.
As I got lost in thought, Officer Solo walked in with a guilty smile.
"I know," He looked at Organa's reprimanding face. "I'm late."
He held his hands up in mock defense before setting down his hands, walking to the projector, and turning it on before opening his laptop and displaying it to the screen.
"As you might know, in a couple of weeks the Grand Republic's 30th Jubilee will be taking place in Paris. All Resistance allies will be in attendance, such as the Army General of Japan, the Prime Minister of England, and our President of the United States." He stated, pictures of each global leader he mentioned popped up on the screen.
"Are the President's bodyguards not able to attend or something? I thought that was their entire job." I said, crossing my arms and leaning back into the chair.
"Who said you were going with the President?" He held out his hand and furrowed his eyebrows before clicking again on his laptop.
"You'll be attending with Prime Minister Lucian Finch. Although he has his own bodyguards, we believe they'll need some extra help." He frowned as he said the last sentence.
"Why do you say that?"
Officer Organa cut in. "We have reason to believe he is a target for the Order."
My heart rate slowed down. I was being sent on a mission to protect someone, not just anyone, but the goddamn Prime Minister of England from bloodthirsty Imperial loyalists.
This was not something I could do alone.
I knawed at my lip, subconsciously taking in the rest of the information my officers threw at me. Words such as "dangerous," "highly secretive," and "undercover" invaded my airways. No shit.
"When do I leave?" I ask, standing up from my chair and leaning against the table.
"Three weeks, you and your partner will be on a direct flight to London by 8 AM," Organa said.
"Who is it?"
Please be Walsh, please be Walsh.
"Agent Solo."
Fuck.
