Bit of a warning to all of you returning folks that the rating has been stepped up from T to M for various reasons. Also it's been over 3 years since this fic started! ….yay?

...please don't hate me. Also I redact that statement saying I was gonna overhaul the whole story. Fudge it, I'll work with what I've got already, since it really isn't all that bad in concept.

Chapter Thirteen: Take a Hint

Day 3

Date: Wednesday, January 26th 2015

Location: Kheawuton: Khua, Southeast Rally Point - Abandoned Residential District

Time: Roughly 21:48 S.S.T. (Standard Sanctuary Time)

Black Rock Shooter

Time to Guardian's Attack - approx. one hour

Black stared out at the cleaned out collection of broken down buildings, trucks, dark bluish-gray tents, and military hardware that made up the hastily created "Camp Keeper" that had supposedly been named in honor of the squad that had saved firebase Zina in the battle the day before. The Keeper's eyes were narrowed as a strong wind howled around her. Such a breeze her would normally carry her messy pigtailed hair with it and give her some sense of peace. The meditation was a practice Black picked up at the request of her master so she could give her ever-active mind a chance to rest and avoid straying into the dangerous realm of emotion. It was a practice Black normally partook in daily, but was forced to skip for the last several days due to her unfortunate circumstances, and her irrational actions reflected as a result of her lack of discipline.

It also meant that Black found little solace in her meditation. The purpose of the practice was to leave yourself open to the wind so it could dominate and clear your mind, yet she was forced to keep her black hood up and was covered by a rather ugly dark brown cloak to avoid being recognized by the Guardians below, most of which had clearly seen her figure and hairstyle in the arena. Given the nature of her uniform she doubted simply undoing her hair ties

would convince anyone, and given much of her defensive options were woven into the fabrics simply removing it wasn't an option either. Black's hands remained closed tightly at her sides, and her annoyance at her predicament ate away at her more than she cared to admit.

Catching herself mid-thought, Black cast the emotions from her mind, returning her focus to meditating. Black blocked out all other sound, all other senses. She closed her eyes and envisioned the wind howling around her, listening only to its unforgiving pull and unrelenting fury. And although it was with reluctance, she listened to the sound of her hood flapping with the wind, attempting to find comfort in cloth rather than her hair.

Yet her subconscious would not let her forget the events that had transpired up until this point. The Keeper summed it up to a single phrase that she had learned to fear in her younger days: "Your mind is fighting the storm."

Black knew her mind was conflicted and filled with self-doubt, yet it did not grant her the ability to cast the doubts from her mind as easily as her emotions. During the few missions she and her fellow Keepers had undergone, her decisions had affected the lives of everyone under her command, and even when Black had doubts about her decisions she was able to clear them from her mind. This time was different. This time the target of her mission was the Keepers. Her decisions on this mission determined if they lived free, or remained as puppets for the council to kill again and again at their whim for nothing more than sport.

And yet that wasn't the only reason her mind was clouded. For the first time in her life Black was conflicted over morals. The idea of working with Guardians, the very group that had taken the place of every Keeper and put them in this situation, appalled her. Disgusted her. Filled her with a rage she had never felt before and had no hope of controlling. But it wasn't only that, no she had forced herself to stand side-by-side with the man who was wearing and using the very equipment gifted to her own sister. She also had somehow decided to try and create a bridge by informing the Guardians that they were not playing a game as they once believed, therefore removing a potential leveraging tool that could have been used to control a seemingly

uncontrollable force that was not only unpredictable but also enjoyed the thrill of battle!

Which is the greater evil, the monster or the one who allies themselves with it? The line popped into her head, the source being the book Sy had given her before the breakout. Black could feel her nails digging into the palm of her hand, although they were too short and dull to actually cut flesh. Black didn't want anything to do with the Guardians, despite her optimism a few hours before. I need them. Black reminded herself. I cannot take down the council myself. Working with the Guardians was violating every bone in her body, and the thought of turning on Squad Keeper to retrieve her sister's belongings was still tempting, but it was a counterproductive action. Working with the Guardians was an evil she needed to commit if she wanted to complete her objective.

In a sense, she was working with the enemy. A situation she was never trained for.

Black let out a long breath and imagined her former master scolding her for being so reckless and impulsive. White had been the strategist, not her. It was another quality that Whitestar shared with her sister, and the very idea that the two of them might be similar in more than just name and equipment frightened her. Black didn't want her sister replaced by anyone, let alone a Guardian who has the sense of newborn child.

Giving up on her meditation, Black could both hear and feel the pounding of a bass turned up too loud through the hard, newly blue painted metal surface of The Liberator beneath her feet. Before Black had left The Liberator in an attempt to get some peace, DJ and Rush had started screaming out lyrics to a song the she didn't recognize. Once she assumed came from their world. Everyone else had agreed to make their own preparations and meet back up ten minutes before the Guardians were set to depart.

The last several days had been filled with setbacks for the Sanctuary army. Several small raids made by the Thilans had destroyed critical supplies needed for the attack, which called not only for a change in strategy but a call for additional supplies as well - some of which included replacement parts for their stolen fortress after it was revealed that the quick patchwork fixes the General's team had made weren't going to hold up. DJ had promised to 'give the General what's coming to him,' but Black doubted he was serious.

Yet Black had to admit that with DJ and Winston at the head of the second attempt to fix The Liberator the repairs were going much better than Black had predicted. Winston had a vast knowledge of vehicles, even though he had never seen a T.A.T. before a few days ago. DJ was also quite capable at following instructions and was talented with his hands. While they weren't going to recover all of the systems of their fortress before the battle, enough systems were online to function according to their original plan.

Thanks to the additional three days, her leg was now fully healed. The only injury that concerned her was that to her focus and concentrations. With her meditations ending in failure, her state of mind was a genuine concern for her. She couldn't afford to have a single stray thought in the heat of battle, not if she wanted to remain alive long enough to see the remaining Keepers freed.

The sound of footsteps behind her drew Black from her thoughts. Turning her head to the left slightly she caught a flash of a familiar white jacket out of the corner of her eye and felt a single emotion return to her through her returning focus - annoyance.

"Why must you follow me everywhere I go?" Black demanded in a annoyed tone. Despite the fact that she needed him and his squad, Black couldn't help but keep her cold attitude towards Whitestar. Her sister was too deeply rooted in her mind.

"Ouch, hello again to you too." Whitestar replied with an amused snort.

"I grow tired of your distractions, what do you want from me?" Black expected the Guardian to sit down next to her and start launching into some speech about how he was here to help her, however to her surprise he did not.

"This time something more practical. Since we're going to be sneaking around an enemy base in close quarters I figured I could use a close range weapon." Whitestar explained.

"I fail to see how I am required for this." Black retorted.

"I've seen you pull out that katana from that jacket of yours a few times now, and since this jacket belongs to White Rock Shooter I figure it's probably got one too."

"You wish to learn to summon White Blade." Black guessed, continuing to look out at the busy scene in front of her and not at Whitestar.

"You got it." It didn't take a lot of effort to imagine the Guardian's goofy grin. Black let out a silent sigh, forcing down the anger that came with the image while debating whether or not to comply with his demand. On one hand Whitestar being in possession of the White Blade would be advantageous as opposed to him attempting to swing a large cannon in a narrow alley or hallway. But on the other hand, that would be yet another aspect of her sister that would be taken by the imposter. Black shut her eyes tightly. Forgive me, but I need him to save our family.

Standing up, Black slowly turned around to face the Guardian and nod.

"Thanks." Whitestar said, smile gone or maybe it never existed in the first place, as if he realized the seriousness of what he was asking.

Black reached into her jacket, and almost at once a black colored katana formed in her hand as she seemed to pull it from out of jacket. Whitestar raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

"All Keepers have an extra-dimensional storage space woven into their clothing." Black explained. "Weapons that we cannot maintain on our person are stored in this space until we call for them. Both the Black and White Blades are such weapons."

"Why haven't any of the Guardians gotten this?" Whitestar wondered aloud.

"Because the cost for one article of clothing with a space woven such as the jacket you are wearing costs more than the city of Obroseon itself." Whitestar's eyes widened. Black had exaggerated on the cost a fair bit, but the extra-dimensional space was indeed that rare.

"Well damn that's impressive if I do say so myself. It isn't tied to the original owner's DNA is it?"

"No it is not." Black replied neutrally. "However you must be wearing it to access the space, and it can only store one item at a time."

"So in theory the White Blade should be in there." Whitestar muttered as he attempted to mimic Black's earlier motion.

Although he was clearly unsure of what he was doing, he started pulling a blade that was an exact copy of Black's katana out of the jacket. The only difference between the two blades was the color, this one being white in all the places where her own blade was black.

Once fully drawn, White inspected the blade, turning it over in his hand and giving it a few practice swings before nodding in approval.

"This is sweet, could I store something else in the jacket?" Whitestar asked, keeping his gaze on his newly acquired weapon.

"Yes, however that sword has no sheath, so you would have nowhere to place it if the jacket's space is occupied." Black explained, a feeling of discomfort rising in her chest as she watched the Guardian wield the blade. She turned her back to Whitestar and returned her gaze to the ever increasing number of Guardians down below.

"Thanks for helping me out with this." White said from behind her. "We're going to start moving a bit earlier than everyone else, so be down and ready to go in five alright?" From the sound of footsteps behind her, Whitestar obviously didn't stick around to wait for an answer.

Black sat down with her feet hanging over the edge. From their brief conversation she could tell that Whitestar hadn't taken the request he had made lightly. He was well aware of the pain he was causing Black, yet they were both aware that if they didn't work together there would be no hope of rescuing the other Keepers. Whitestar was putting all of his effort into a cause that he could easily choose to ignore. He was risking the safety of himself and his companions for soldiers that would kill them all without a second thought. This prompted a new question to form in Black's mind: why couldn't she get over the feeling of betrayal in her heart?

Day 3

Date: Wednesday, January 26th 2015

Location: Obroseon: - New Guardian's Bar and Casino

Time: Roughly 22:00 S.S.T. (Standard Sanctuary Time)

Ivory - Code Name White Rock Shooter

Ivory sighed and set down her now empty glass down on the newly polished surface of the bar table. Her slouched form both more relaxed and stressed than it had been in weeks. The music pounding in her ears, the dancing of patrons behind her, and the smells of the newest and arguably most popular bar in all of Blue Rift: New Guardian. All of it was helping her escape the reality of her failure several nights earlier. In front of her was the empty glass of her fourth drink tonight, and she started getting funny looks from both the bartender and surrounding patrons. The legal drinking age for the city was sixteen so it wasn't like it was unusual to see a teenager drinking, but it wasn't every day that someone downed four tall glasses a beverage meant to knock the most seasoned drinkers out in only two shots.

Besides the wind, a strong drink was the only other thing in the world to give her peace - not that alcohol had any effect on her body. At most a strong drink made her feel like she could fit into normal society, a chance to let her hair down and not have to worry about that creeper of a boss that she was almost certain was stalking her and trying to get into her bed. The thought sent a shudder down her spine. It didn't seem to matter what the profession or allegiance was, if you were a pretty woman there was always a man close by wanting to have sex with you. Typical.

Not having to keep up formal appearances, Ivory had changed clothes and hairstyles since she didn't have to be around her stalker of a boss, who hadn't wanted to lay eyes on her since the failure of killing that former councilor. Unlike the night of the mission, the assassin had let her long white hair free of the two hair ties and fall to it's full length, hitting her lower back. I need a haircut, any assassin thinking they can kill a target with this hair is nuts.

As for her outfit, she had made a serious effort to wear something that wouldn't stand out, and the new black t-shirt with a whited out rock cannon and katana in an X pattern on the front that served as the Keeper Battles logo alongside a pair of blue jeans and a plain gray hoodie tied around the waist did just the trick. Afterall she was out for a night of drinking, no provocative dancing, gambling, or flirting for her - ever. Ivory preferred it when she could be alone with her thoughts and not be stupid with the little time to think that she had. That and she got enough of the flirting from her perverted boss. Great Sanctuary she hated that guy.

Her thoughts were constantly consumed by the missing memories that were a bug that wouldn't stop buzzing in her ear. The gaps in her memory, the people whose faces she couldn't remember, it was something worse than haunting. So much so that she refused to call herself by her real name, the one thing she did remember - White Rock Shooter. Ivory Blaze - last name taken from a famous martial artist that had lived nearly two decades ago - was a much more fitting name for her.

The one thing Ivory could say with some certainty about her past was that she was probably created to be a living weapon, after all she was one of the deadliest people in the Thilan Empire and had a shitty name that could only have been described as a code name. It was the other reason for her self-given name, it sounded like it belonged to an actual person instead of a weapon.

Ivory let out a long sigh and rested her head against her thumb and index fingers, the thought of being a living weapon bringing back the failure three days ago. There wasn't any doubt in her mind that she'd be punished harshly for letting her targets get away, the first time she it had happened to her since her first attempt at a kill.

"Excuse me miss, it seems you've hit the bottom of your glass." Ivory groaned inwardly when she heard the deep voice of a young man clearly thinking with something that wasn't his brain. "Is there any chance I can help you fix that?" Ivory groaned inwardly.

"No thanks pal, keep your sword in your pants and start looking elsewhere." Ivory retorted bitterly, not even willing to look at the guy's face.

"Oh don't be like that, all I'm doing is offering to buy you a drink." The man replied, his voice surprisingly charming and not drunk! That was a first. Most of the time people only hit on a barely legal hot sixteen year-old if they were drunk.

"You and every other man in here, where'd you learn that pickup line primary school?" Ivory could feel the annoyance coming off in waves from the man. A tough guy? Ivory sighed yet again as she imagined him clenching his hands into fists. And here I was hoping I'd get through the night without another bar fight.

"Don't be like that little lady, come on and give this girl another one on me." This guy was seriously pushing his luck.

"Kid this girl's downed four Zintis Dwarfminers in less than an hour and hasn't doubled over. I think you'd better take her advice and hit the road before you get hurt." The bartender interrupted with a raised eyebrow, no doubt impressed with Ivory's drinking feats.. Ivory smiled, she liked this bartender. Even in his surprise there was a hint of warning in his voice that told her that he clearly had enough experience to know that she was not someone to fuck around with.

"Just my type of girl." The guy replied with way too much enthusiasm in his voice. Ivory's right hand started visibly twitching, something the bartender noticed. It took everything Ivory had not to facepalm.

"Boy don't make me call security on your sorry ass, this is opening night and I'd rather have it go without breaking the whole damn place." Ivory caught a small movement from the bartender's hand, and out of the corner of her eye she caught two massive bouncers start walking over towards them. It went without saying that this was her new favorite place. The young man next to her let out a ´tsk´ sound.

"Fine fine, I´ll take a hint when I see one, but you'll see me again, and you'll fall for me." Ivory turned her head to watch the man disappear into the crown before turning her gaze back to the empty glass.

"Thanks for that." Ivory said with a voice of tired gratitude.

"No sense in letting inappropriate behavior go unchecked in my bar." The older man grunted. "And It's like I said before, anyone who can take that much alcohol and not be drunk could probably turn my bar into a pile of rubble without any trouble. Wouldn't be the first time." Ivory let out a breath of amusement and slowly pushed herself off the stool and to her feet, grabbing a long black bag that sat against the stool and flinging it over her shoulder. The bartender looked over the rectangular black bag, it's length reaching all the way down to Ivory's knees.

"Well thanks for the drinks." Ivory waved as she started walking off.

"Try and keep the mess away from the bar." The bartender called as Ivory walked through the crowded dance floor towards the exit. All she needed now was something to hit and a good night's sleep. One of which was right around the corner.

Ivory stepped outside the New Guardian Bar and onto the streets of Obroseon, so well illuminated by the street lamps, flashing billboards, and building lights that it may have well been the middle of the day. Despite it being past twenty-two the streets were still packed with people like it was the middle of the day. This was mostly due to the Keeper Battle that was due to start within the hour, but crowded streets in the early hours of the night weren't uncommon in most of the central area's of the city.

Having spent the contents of her wallet on drinks, Ivory was forced to take the long walk back to what had to have been the cheapest apartment in the city, where your best friends were the rats and the mold on the wall. Still the walk presented a chance for her to think over the failed assassination and the ogre-armed bitch who got in her way. There wasn't a doubt in Ivory's mind that she could have taken her down quickly, but fucking Arin insisted that they keep a low profile and don't go around destroying entire city blocks.

Ivory clenched her teeth as the scene played in her mind again, her mind burning with rage at the thought of that kid's cocky expression and reckless eyes. That bitch needed to be put in her place and soon.

Still three blocks from her run down apartment, Ivory's sixth sense picked up on something hiding right around the corner. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. That asshole from the bar had kept his word to find her again, and this time he had friends. Ivory grinned and using the bag flung around her shoulder, she swung it around, jabbing the man who was supposed to grab her as she rounded the corner in the face. A sudden cry of pain was his reward for failing to mask his presence. That felt good.

"Damn, I didn't think you thugs were that stupid." Ivory commented, keeping a tight grip on the strap of her pack. When she rounded the corner, she found three other guys standing there with a various assortment of blunt weapons and knives. The man in the back Ivory recognized as the man from the bar.

"I said you'd be seeing me again." The man grinned, either so drunk he was unaware his friend had been knocked out cold - which was unlikely considering that man didn't reek of alcohol - or didn't care enough to consider it. Ivory sighed.

"Didn't that bartender warn you not to try anything?" Ivory reminded the man, placing her bag on the ground and pulling on the opening, her hand reaching inside and wrapping around a long pole-like item.

"He and his lapdogs aren't here anymore, so you're mine now." The man licked his lips, and Ivory concluded that this man was both overconfident and stupid. "Get her boys."

The two men in front of the bar guy stepped forward, holding a long metal pipe and a six inch knife respectively, they slowly walked towards her keeping their weapons ready. Their careful approach told Ivory that these two weren't total idiots, but they were still stupid for trying to attack her. Once the men were within four feet of her, Ivory raised and swung pole from left to right. While it wasn't easy since she didn't have the nine feet required to swing in a one-eighty degree arc, there was still enough force behind the blow to fling her extra-dimensional storage bag off of White Scythe, the boney end of the weapon colliding with the first man's head and sent him crashing into the second man.

It wouldn't have been hard for her to turn the weapon in her hands and stab both of the men with the curved tip of her weapon, but the last thing Ivory wanted was a bloody mess on her hands. Instead she opted for the second option, which was to leap forward at the final man. Spinning her scythe in her hands, Ivory one again struck with the blunt and bony part of her skeletal-like weapon.

Ivory had ended up parallel to the man when her weapon slammed into the man's nose, sending him flying several feet backwards with blood gushing out of his nose. Ivory had done more than break the man's face, she had shattered it into a million peices. Good luck paying the medical bill for the surgery you bastard. Ivory stepped back over the two collapsed underlings and picked up her back, which had been thrown on top of a dumpster at the end of the alley thanks to her violent swing. Starting from blade end and turning down toward the pole part of the weapon, the assassin returned her weapon to it's storage and continued walking towards her apartment.

Today may have sucked, but getting to kick the assess of three perverts helped make it just a little bit better.

Day 3

Date: Sunday, January 23rd 2015

Location: Kheawuton: Khua, Southeast Rally Point - Abandoned Residential District

Time: Roughly 22:30 S.S.T. (Standard Sanctuary Time)

Black Rock Shooter

En Route to Thilan Base

"I still can't believe they have the nerve to throw us out there like cannon daughter." Rush complained, laying bored on a bed closest to the entrance of The Liberator. Clearly trying to relax despite the bumpy ride.

"It's not like we have much of a choice. The Thilans we're real smart in choosing their real-estate." DJ replied, having finally gotten somewhat serious since his episode several minutes earlier, in what could only be described as the best drunken singing Black had ever heard from people who weren't actually drunk. She still wasn't sure how they had managed to play music from their own world, but she couldn't deny that everyone in Squad Keeper was a lot calmer and more serious than before - especially after having to calm both DJ and Rush down.

As the group discussed strategy they previewed the battlefield once again, and one thing concerned all of them more than anything else - the long stretch of empty land that sat just outside the Thilan base roughly a hundred meters long. Between them and the stretch of empty land was a broken suburban area of the city, destroyed from countless years of combat.

"I'm less worried about the open space as I am about what we're going to find out here." Whitestar replied, his arms folded as he stood right behind DJ, his cannon reflecting light after he had used the cleaning materials Black had left in the command tower. "With the landscape this broken anything could be waiting for is in here, and we don't have the same maneuverability we did back in the central city."

"Well the good news is that we fried their T.A.T.'s in the battle." Rose pointed out from her seat opposite that of Black nearest to where Whitestar was standing.

"It is possible that one or two may still remain within the city-base itself." Black cautioned. "We should proceed with caution, we will not catch them by surprise again."

"Oh ye of little faith, believe in the force you must." A smacking sound followed DJ's rather odd sentence.

"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't use references people wouldn't understand." Whitestar reminded him.

"Dude it's Star Wars, if I can't use that then what can I use?"

"Nothing until you find a way to get all six movies to BRSO." Whitestar replied flatly, ignoring the fact that DJ's comment was mostly rhetorical.

Black was doing her best to keep her mind blank, a difficult task considering the constant and rather pointless discussion coming from the Guardians. In her mind, Black saw no point in debating what to do in every uncertainty at the last moment. Doing so would only create unnecessary tension within the group and further increase the difficulty of their task. This battle was rushed without proper intelligence or preparation. Black noted grimly. Our chances for victory are slim at best. Despite knowing this however, Black felt that this wasn't the first time Squad Keeper had gone in blind. In fact it almost seemed like they enjoyed the lack of information, like it was another level of difficulty for them to push through.

They really do see this world as a game.

Authors Notes:

Alright everyone I'll be honest. Trying to work up the courage to once again tackle this monstrosity of a story has been rough, especially with me now in college and with numerous other responsibilities. All of this chapter had already been written well over a year ago, but needed extensive tweaking which I have finally completed.

Starting next chapter (which I won't DARE give an ETA for) I'm going to stick to earthly units of measure for my own sanity, since my writing of the story has been sporadic

I have a general idea of where I want to go with this story, and I'll do my best to try and keep up with it where I can, and this will probably be the last of the short chapters. From here things probably get longer.

I really do want to apologize for being dead for so long. My focus is still split in a million different ways and I can't promise anything but to try and give this story the attention it so rightfully deserves. Keeping characters consistent, the world cohesive, and the entertainment factor going. If you're reading this and have come back to the story I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And for those of you who found this story in the two year long hiatus and followed it I want to thank you deeply as well. Every follow and favorite was a reminder that people were still reading and looking at this story.

I'll try to do my best to deliver.

Katsuo "WillTheYordle" Twintail