Traitor

Nova bolted, running with her backpack bouncing up and down. She knew she was going to be wanted. She knew the hell she had stirred up by running. She also knew that what she had done was unforgivable in the Syndicate's eyes, but she did not care. She felt relief and calm about what she had just done--killing the four operatives who were staking out her place felt awesome. She felt cold, though she had been a part of the Syndicate for years now. But she was tired of always overlooking crimes that should not go ignored. And even worse, her sweet brother Orion had changed. He was cold, lethal, and not who she remembered. So, she had decided she wanted to change, not just herself but her city as well. She had grabbed her laptop, her gun, and the black and blue hoodie and left. Now she was running through the labyrinth of the city she grew up in, determined to make her mark and bring about positive change.

As Nova ducked into one of her safe houses, she felt a shiver run down her spine as she remembered how easily he had let children die. Even worse, he had burned them to death by setting fire to the building the target had been in. Tears ran down her face as she slowly made her way to the drawer where she kept the handgun and ammo. She opened it and loaded the magazines into the backpack, smiling a little as she remembered her uncle. Though not a blood relative, he was the one who had given her and Nova the robotic add-ons and one of the few people she trusted. She knew exactly where he was. She shook her head and turned, walking to the computer and turning it on, logging into one of her many accounts. She reached out to one of the biggest resistance groups for help. Though small in number, the group was powerful, with control over a good chunk of the urban areas. They had many people she could lay low with and assist. They had a reputation for shutting down trafficking rings and leaving the bodies out in the street. They also helped the kids by providing them with honest jobs and dorms. As the kids grew older, they helped them find housing and other jobs. Most often, the kids would end up supporting the cause by providing support.

As Nova's robotic hand clenched the gun, she steadied her breathing and smiled as she watched the two soldiers exit the car that had been tailing her for the past three blocks. She had ducked down one of the multiple alleys and forced them to follow on foot. She placed the backpack down and slid out the little device she had been tinkering with. She heard a cry and two shots, BANG BANG. She ducked and looked around the corner, only to be met with the barrel of a gun. She shouted, "Fuck, Lance! What's the gun for?" Nova looked up and saw Lance, a dark-skinned boy with pure white hair, wearing a shit-eating grin and looking down at her. "Hey Nova, what are you doing here with these two good fellows around my neighbourhood?" he said in his silky-smooth voice. Nova shook her head, slowly got to her feet, and replied in a mocking voice, "Oh, I only shot four of them." Lance glanced back at the two dead bodies and smirked, replying, "Is that so? Well, they're after you. What do you need?" he said in a serious tone.