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“Stupid, Clint,” Kate huffs and pokes at the charm dangling from her Speeder handlebars. “Sending me to do his dirty work—all for a damn pistol that he could easily replace.”
“I heard that.”
“You were supposed to.” She sighs and pushes up from the seat, Lucky hot on her tail. “Why am I the one roaming around in this desert? You’re the one who gambled your gun away.”
“Because I’m banned from Bestine,” Clint mumbles. “And you’re a way better Sabacc player than me.”
“Everyone is, apparently.”
“Just get in there and do what you do best.” A pause. “…please?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.” She smiles, appreciating that she finally pulled a ‘please’ from her grumpy partner-in-crime. “I’ll call when I’ve got it. Then we can get the hell off this dusty ass planet.”
“Don’t bring too much heat on yourself this time, Katie Kate.” Clint chuckles. “I’m too poor at the moment to bail you out again. Nat’s a friend, but she has to run a tight ship here. The Imps are really on one these days.”
She ends the connection without responding, Lucky jumping up on her shoulder with his tendrils splayed around his head to enjoy all the sounds of Tatooine. Shifting sand and billowing fabric. Clanking pistols and saddles on massive beasts. The air is stiflingly warm and dry, and she adjusts the collar of her lightweight vest. She’s already sticky with sweat.
She takes a moment to enjoy the sight of the planet’s dual suns, unused to the sight as a native of Canto Bight. As much as she hates the heat swirling around her, she has to admit… It’s beautiful. And it sure beats the harsh winters of Kijimi.
She takes her time meandering around the capital city of Bestine, listening intently to the conversations around her. According to Clint, the table was forced to move. The Imperials—"Imps,” for short but more so for fun—have been cracking down lately on everything fun. For some annoying, unknown reason.
After thirty minutes of sucking down a whole canteen of water and wiping sand from her eyes, she finally strikes gold: the basement of the local cantina. It’s apparently guarded by a hulking, probably ugly lackey. Oh! And a guardian droid.
So, she’s probably not slipping past without the passcode this time around.
She closes her eyes and Lucky chirps happily, both appreciating the artificial cooling inside. The jaunty sounds coming from the old jukebox in the corner. The locals eyeing the worn blaster at her side warily. The food that smells perfectly spicy.
She makes a mental note to grab a plate before leaving. Lucky trills loudly as if he can hear her thoughts, excited at the thought of his own plate.
Merqaals are uncanny creatures sometimes.
With a curt nod to the bartender, she walks slowly downstairs and comes to stand in front of what can only be described as A Face That Only A Mother Could Love. She grimaces and provides the passcode that she overhead moments ago. Thankfully, the guard grunts and steps to the side, waving her through and deactivating the droid.
“Thank you kindly, good sir,” she says, earning another deep grunt in response.
After the bright sun outside, it takes a moment for her eyes to fully adjust to the parlor’s dim lighting. There’s a group of scary-looking mercenaries huddled together in a booth along the far wall, a mess of stripped electronics in the center of their table. They shoot furtive glances her way for a few seconds before turning back to their conversation.
Her eyes continue to scan the room, lingering on some abandoned machine parts on a random shelf to her left. She has Lucky swipe them and shoves them into her vest and pants pockets when he bounds back over.
It’s hard to shake her Professional Thief Tendencies. But no one seems to have noticed and, thus, she hasn’t yet broken Clint’s rule about causing unnecessary trouble.
So far, so good.
Just around the corner is the Sabacc table, the soft glow of the lights above it a nice, mellow green. There are three individuals already sitting and chatting, clearly having just played a few hands and waiting for their next victim.
If Kate had to guess, at least.
She can’t quite think on it too much because at the head of the table—clearly the individual who runs this whole fun, slightly illegal operation—is a blonde. A very attractive, smirking, tough-looking blonde.
Green eyes widen slightly as Kate and the blonde’s smiles both slip for a few beats, fumbling briefly as they take in the sight of one another. Eventually, the blonde’s gaze and smile sharpen once more.
Kate recovers quicker than she thought possible and clears her throat, advancing slowly on the table again. “Got time for a game or two with a new face?”
The blonde looks at the two individuals at her side, sharing a quick nod with them. “We sure do.” She gathers her credit chips from the previous game before looking Kate square in the eye again. “You get three chances, Kate Bishop.”
Kate jolts in the seat she just plopped into, her eyebrows shooting toward her hairline. Lucky chitters, moving from one shoulder to the other from the abrupt movement.
“My name is Yelena Belova.”
The color drains from Kate’s face. Nat’s sister? One of the top Sabacc players in the entire fucking Galaxy?
Oh, gods.
Clint’s pistol is as good as gone.
“This is Sonya,” Yelena says as she motions toward the woman with short dark hair before pointing to the blonde to her left, “and Ana.”
All three are wearing dark robes, and Kate blanches at how hot it must be under all those Crimson Dawn Syndicate layers. Especially on this cursed planet. Her brain then starts getting into dangerous territory about how hot Yelena must be under all tho—
Anyway.
“Um.” Kate shakes her head to try to get back on track. “You already know who I am… So, I assume you also know why I’m here?”
“Oh, I know a lot about you.”
Yelena smirks, her eyes still steadily trained on Kate’s. Except for a brief moment when they dip slightly lower, and Kate fumbles her shift tokens when she realizes Yelena’s gaze must be focused on her lips. She faintly hears an awkward cough and muted chuckle from the other two women, patiently gathering their own tokens and credits as Yelena continues.
“Three chances to win Barton’s pistol back.”
Yelena pulls the blaster out and drops it loudly on the table. Kate winces, quickly cataloguing the familiar marks and dents on the weapon’s old metal chassis.
What’s one more, right?
Lucky roams around the table and room, sniffing at the pistol before finding something shiny in the far corner to better occupy his attention for a while.
“And if you lose…” Yelena adds, leaning back in her chair and throwing her hood up so that it partially obscures her face. “You return those parts you lifted minutes ago. They belong to my friends over there.”
Kate sighs, pulling said contraband from her pockets to lay out on the card table. She sends a lighthearted wave and lopsided grimace to the mercenaries, earning a few choice curses and sneers back. “Fair enough.”
“Play often, Bishop?” Sonya asks.
“Not really. Just a few games here and there when I have time,” Kate responds as the Sabacc droid starts to deal. “Nothing high stakes like this, though.”
She chuckles, letting her shoulders drop slightly at the easy smiles she gets back in response. It’s that hoarse chuckle from Yelena that strikes a chord deep in her gut, though.
She clears her throat again and sits taller in her seat when her hand is dealt. Lucky once more perches on her shoulder, leaning closer to her hand as if he understands what the symbols mean.
Maybe he actually does.
Again, Merqaals are uncanny creatures.
Her eyes narrow on her cards. A one and a five. Not terrible.
But definitely not great.
Her index finger twitches toward her stack of shift tokens, trying to size up her competition to figure out what her best strategy may be against three obvious Sabacc Sharks. If they knew about her petty theft earlier, then deploying Lucky to cause a distraction or slip her some good cards is off the table too.
Pun intended.
“That’s not what I’ve heard, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says lazily, drawing a new red card and placing her old one down. “Barton speaks very highly of your…abilities.”
Kate’s ears heat up at the suggestive tone, trying to focus on the game. “Gods, I hope not. Gross.” And that earns her another round of chuckles and two more turns without Yelena’s alluring voice and distracting comments. “Fine, I’m decent at the game. Happy?”
“Ha. Happy,” Ana scoffs. “She will be when you’re under h— Ow!”
Ana’s mumble is cut off with what Kate assumes is a kick under the table, if the thud and subsequent head bump on the card table is any indication. Ana rights herself quickly and flips Yelena off. Lucky scatters to the mercenary booth, enjoying the quiet and surprisingly gentle pets from the scary-looking crew.
“You should really be more careful, Ana,” Yelena says primly with a sniff, her eyes glued to her cards. “So clumsy.”
Sonya snickers, and Kate smiles slowly.
Because, sure, Clint is going to toss her into the expanse of space without a suit when she returns empty-handed after these three absolutely demolish her in this stupid card game. But, regardless of said impending doom…she’s really enjoying their company.
She’s particularly enjoying Yelena’s company.
Kate may not have much free time on her hands with the many jobs she and Clint are always running around the galaxy to complete and, thus, not much experience in the realm of Gentlewoman Callers. But she’s not dumb. And she has eyes.
Maybe Clint can chill in the ship for an extra night?
She’s not entirely sure how much time passes, but they eventually make it toward the end of game three. Kate narrowly lost the last round, so there’s hope. But this is her final chance.
Sonya groans and throws her cards on the table for the robot to sweep up, finally cleared of her coins and out of the last game. It takes another turn for Ana to meet the same fate.
Kate has one of her three shift tokens left. Yelena has two.
They both have one coin left.
This is the game-winning round.
Gods, she’s so close. Honestly, Clint really screwed up on this whole thing. What made him think that Kate would have any chance against a reigning galaxy champ?
Yelena smiles, laying her cards face down in front of her. She ends her turn without drawing any cards or playing any tokens.
Kate can’t quite tell if it’s a bluff. She sighs, peering down—stone-faced—at the pair of fours she scrounged up. She picks up her last shift token, knowing this move is going to make or break the game for her.
Did she choose the right token to finally pull out a win? To turn the odds in her favor?
She sucks in a deep breath and flips over her favorite token: Cook the Books. Instead of a pair of ones, the best hand is now a pair of sixes. Her fours put her in a better spot, unless Yelena is sitting on at least a pair of fives. And she really, really hopes Yelena catered to a pair of low numbers in the previous turns.
The growing smile on Yelena’s face isn’t giving her much hope, though. Kate’s heart beats out of sync as her eyes dip toward full lips.
With a fond roll of her eyes, Yelena flips over a pair—
Of twos.
A pair of twos!
Kate actually did it. She actually fucking won. With a bright, unwieldy smile, she throws her cards down in all their glory, standing and raising her fists above her head in victory. She quickly remembers that she’s very much still in the presence of three gorgeous ‘Shadow Syndicate’ members and awkwardly folds herself back into the chair.
She scratches her forehead in embarrassment with a sheepish grin. “Well. That is a winning Sabacc, I believe.”
Lucky chirps happily and skitters back over to Kate’s shoulder. She holds her hand out for Clint’s blaster, meeting Yelena’s steady gaze. She barely registers Sonya and Ana saying their goodbyes and well wishes.
“I was really hoping that wasn’t the token you had left.” Yelena chuckles drily, passing the weapon over without much fanfare. “Nicely done, Kate Bishop.”
When Clint’s blaster lands in her hand, Kate finally notices that she and Yelena are now completely alone. Even those grumpy mercenaries must have cleared out at some point. She checks her watch and realizes that an hour has passed since she first entered the makeshift parlor. She sighs happily, leaning on her elbows against the table as she turns her full attention back onto Yelena.
“Please tell me you didn’t just…let me win or something.” Kate chuckles. “I know you’re a decorated Sabacc Champion, but my ego couldn’t take it.”
Yelena laughs softly, lazily shedding her robe with a slight shake of her head. “Nyet.”
Kate tries not to be too obvious in her perusal of toned arms. Bright, green eyes. A loose, deep red shirt. The dash of black ink just barely visible near a collarbone. She props her chin up against her fist, relaxing into a deeper lean to try to offset how all the nerve endings in her body feel like they’re on fire.
“You won fair and square, Kate Bishop.” Yelena’s smirk melts into something softer. “How is Barton these days?”
“Fine,” Kate says with a similarly gentle smile. “Still grumpy. And doing way too much for how old he is.”
“I’d be concerned if not.” Yelena leans back in her chair, her head falling to the side as she sizes Kate up.
Everywhere the blonde’s eyes linger on Kate starts to tingle. “H— How about Natasha?” She clears her throat. “How’s the sheriff gig treating her?”
“Good! She’s good.” Yelena’s head tilts to the other side, her smile growing. “How have we never met before?”
“Because Tatooine sucks, and you two live here for some gods-forsaken reason.”
“Fair.” Yelena chuckles. “It’s not for everyone…”
“I thought you were going to be off planet for a tournament, though.” Kate gathers her tokens and drops them in a vest pocket. “Clint said he has money on you sweeping the competition in a few days.”
“Barton got drunk last month and lost his blaster to an Imp before we had to move operations. So, I stole it from the armory they stashed it in and let Tasha know I had it,” Yelena says with a lazy smirk and roll of her eyes. “Figured he might have you stop by to win it back. Since he’s banned and all.”
“And you made me win it back. When you could've been super nice and just handed it over right away. Of course.” Kate’s smile grows at Yelena's laugh and hands raised in surrender. “But. Um. You wanted to...see me?”
Yelena doesn’t grace her with a response right away, standing wordlessly with a raised eyebrow. She then walks over to the door that leads outside. Her smile is still wide and easy and blinding, and Kate can’t help but follow like she’s starstruck.
“Lucky,” Kate says distractedly as she steps outside with Yelena. Lucky scampers over and looks up at her with wide eyes. “Take this back to Clint. I’ll catch up with you two soon.”
Lucky chirps, takes the blaster in his mouth, and bounds away.
“I know you hate this planet…” Yelena says as she stares into the distance. “But I want to show you something." She looks over. "Call your speeder?”
Kate does just that, not asking for an explanation. She doesn’t need one. Yelena could be taking her out into the sand dunes to leave her for dead, and she’d still happily follow.
Are Crimson Dawn members blessed with siren powers? Or is it just something unique to Yelena?
Her speeder pulls up and she happily pats the seat behind her once she’s situated. Yelena hops on and loops her arms tightly around Kate’s midsection.
Kate tells herself to breathe, but her brain is already well on its way to short-circuiting. All she knows right now is the faint scent of earth and citrus and something faintly metallic. She wonders what Yelena does when she’s not hustling people at Sabacc.
Does she work on speeders or ships? Maybe that's where the metallic smell from Yelena's hair comes from.
Does she run contracts like Kate and Clint, but for the Crimson Dawn? That seems unlikely because they probably would've crossed paths already.
Hell, does she run the cantina in town? Maybe she could get a free drink or two if she plays her cards right.
Kate takes off in the vague direction of Yelena’s pointed finger, letting the warm breeze as they fly across the desert wash away her racing thoughts. They make it to the top of a mountain that is a haphazard mix of stone and sand about twenty minutes later. The ground is surprisingly solid despite the layer of sand on top when she dismounts, a little shaky on her legs as moves to sit next to Yelena at the edge of the nearest cliff.
The air is a bit cooler from the slight climb in altitude. It’s incredibly quiet, far from Bestine and too high for the large animals that roam the planet. The sand blows across the dunes ahead, catching the oranges and reds and pinks of the setting suns.
Two of them.
One is white, like her home’s. Familiar and inviting and serene.
One is red… Similar to that of Yelena’s shirt. Fiery and unknown and invigorating.
Kate pulls her gaze away from the beautiful sight to look over at Yelena—arguably an even better view. The blonde’s already looking back, that smile still steady across her face. Green eyes dip again, and Kate finds herself leaning closer as her own gaze does the same.
“I can see why you like this spot," Kate whispers. "This planet. This view.”
“Beautiful, no?” Yelena asks quietly, her eyes roaming every inch of Kate's face. "Two suns that work together to sustain life down here."
They chuckle in that small, but not quite small enough, space between.
Then they pause.
And then their lips meet, and Kate finally gets it.
She starts to unravel her distaste for the unfamiliar and annoyingly oppressive heat and ever-scattering sand, in favor of the beauty that surrounds her. That's sitting right next to her.
Maybe Tatooine isn’t that terrible, after all.