via http://ift.tt/1q0A0Fr:
background snippet from Poe’s first few weeks with the Resistance:
Poe thought nothing of being brought along with General Organa for negotiations. It made perfect sense; he was one of her captains now, and one of his secondary fields of study had been diplomacy and negotiation, so there was nothing odd about the request.
He was standing correctly off to one side as Organa dictated the setup of the room, and as their negotiation partners arrived, he watched them file in, prepared to take mental notes. But the second man through the door was someone he knew, and he made an involuntary noise before he realized he was going to.
The man looked up. It was Etto, his Tio Etto, a veteran cargo-handler who had worked with his father for decades, and who had frequently stopped by when Poe was a child.
“Poe Dameron,” Etto said, his tattooed face breaking into a grin.
“Tio Etto,” Poe said, astonished. And as Etto approached, Poe realized several things at once: one, he had certainly broken protocol, two, Organa was looking delighted, and three, Etto was high up in the structure of one of the smuggling gangs that ran the Outer Rim. And four, Admiral Statura was looking horrified*. Poe had just totally outed himself as Outer Rim Iberican trash.
The Resistance was– of course– making alliances with the gangs– of course– and Poe had just played his hand. The New Republic had abhorred the gangs, barely tolerating them, and Poe under their control had done the same, though it had been difficult to think of Frontera, with its familiar markings, the same way as the other gangs. (He had never really understood as a child just how much of Yavin’s cargo had been handled by the gang.) But clearly the Resistance did not have the same luxury of compunction.
“Xacristo,” Etto said, one of those old-fashioned epithets you didn’t hear in the Core anymore, “you grew up, my little boy,” and he clasped Poe’s shoulders and kissed his cheeks.
“Yeah,” Poe said. He hadn’t seen Etto since before the Academy. Etto had been– one of the big men who worked with his father, who was Yavin’s harbormaster; big men and women with capable hands, many of them tattooed, who’d spent occasional festive evenings in the backyard between his father’s house and Tia Norasol’s, drinking bottles of home-brewed beer and making jokes Poe only vaguely understood.
He was taller than Etto now, though not by much. And Etto was an old man, his face creased and his hair gray.
Statura was watching their reunion. Fuck it, Poe thought, and threw his arms around Etto’s shoulders. “Come here,” he said. “It’s so good to see you again.”
* Statura, as it happens, is also from the Outer Rim (Garel), and Poe doesn’t know that yet; his astonishment is probably because his planet depended on the protection of some other gang, and he has come into this meeting half-expecting to get murder-ated because Frontera were traditional enemies. He’s staring at Poe because he’s kind of shitting his pants in relief. I only just figured that out though by Googling him real quick so I might expand this snippet because that’s kind of cool. Or maybe not! We’ll find out.
Does this contradict my earlier thing where Poe was a cadet and a gangster was harassing him? Yup! That’s why that draft was deprecated. it was an early concept, and there were a lot of things about it I didn’t like, but mostly I was so pleased to have managed to meaningfully incorporate chicken evisceration into something. Don’t be surprised if parts of that wind up recycled. I never throw anything out.

background snippet from Poe’s first few weeks with the Resistance:
Poe thought nothing of being brought along with General Organa for negotiations. It made perfect sense; he was one of her captains now, and one of his secondary fields of study had been diplomacy and negotiation, so there was nothing odd about the request.
He was standing correctly off to one side as Organa dictated the setup of the room, and as their negotiation partners arrived, he watched them file in, prepared to take mental notes. But the second man through the door was someone he knew, and he made an involuntary noise before he realized he was going to.
The man looked up. It was Etto, his Tio Etto, a veteran cargo-handler who had worked with his father for decades, and who had frequently stopped by when Poe was a child.
“Poe Dameron,” Etto said, his tattooed face breaking into a grin.
“Tio Etto,” Poe said, astonished. And as Etto approached, Poe realized several things at once: one, he had certainly broken protocol, two, Organa was looking delighted, and three, Etto was high up in the structure of one of the smuggling gangs that ran the Outer Rim. And four, Admiral Statura was looking horrified*. Poe had just totally outed himself as Outer Rim Iberican trash.
The Resistance was– of course– making alliances with the gangs– of course– and Poe had just played his hand. The New Republic had abhorred the gangs, barely tolerating them, and Poe under their control had done the same, though it had been difficult to think of Frontera, with its familiar markings, the same way as the other gangs. (He had never really understood as a child just how much of Yavin’s cargo had been handled by the gang.) But clearly the Resistance did not have the same luxury of compunction.
“Xacristo,” Etto said, one of those old-fashioned epithets you didn’t hear in the Core anymore, “you grew up, my little boy,” and he clasped Poe’s shoulders and kissed his cheeks.
“Yeah,” Poe said. He hadn’t seen Etto since before the Academy. Etto had been– one of the big men who worked with his father, who was Yavin’s harbormaster; big men and women with capable hands, many of them tattooed, who’d spent occasional festive evenings in the backyard between his father’s house and Tia Norasol’s, drinking bottles of home-brewed beer and making jokes Poe only vaguely understood.
He was taller than Etto now, though not by much. And Etto was an old man, his face creased and his hair gray.
Statura was watching their reunion. Fuck it, Poe thought, and threw his arms around Etto’s shoulders. “Come here,” he said. “It’s so good to see you again.”
* Statura, as it happens, is also from the Outer Rim (Garel), and Poe doesn’t know that yet; his astonishment is probably because his planet depended on the protection of some other gang, and he has come into this meeting half-expecting to get murder-ated because Frontera were traditional enemies. He’s staring at Poe because he’s kind of shitting his pants in relief. I only just figured that out though by Googling him real quick so I might expand this snippet because that’s kind of cool. Or maybe not! We’ll find out.
Does this contradict my earlier thing where Poe was a cadet and a gangster was harassing him? Yup! That’s why that draft was deprecated. it was an early concept, and there were a lot of things about it I didn’t like, but mostly I was so pleased to have managed to meaningfully incorporate chicken evisceration into something. Don’t be surprised if parts of that wind up recycled. I never throw anything out.
