Howzer stole our hearts when he appeared in TBB S1 E12, and I wanted to write a bit of a backstory for him. It begins with his newbie days during The Clone Wars and stretches to where we last see him in The Bad Batch. Enjoy his character arc and som...
"I can't believe you get to be out there doing all that, and I'm stuck waddling around after Mister Diplofat here."
Sprint had been filling Howzer in on his latest mission, recounting the details with just enough enthusiasm to make it a thoroughly riveting story and further fueling the simmering desire for some "real action". They walked along the food line, filling their trays with a basic assortment of the options.
"You can find the dignity in any assignment if you choose to," Sprint answered, grabbing a spoon before heading to a table.
"Maybe you can. But once they make me a Captain, it's gonna be a turning point in the war," Howzer insisted.
"Great. I can't wait! Now eat your soup."
***
An impossibly long week of repetitive and seemingly pointless tasks found Howzer back at 79s, accompanied by a few squad mates he had found a conversation with. They were reclined in a booth on the upper level, swapping stories and jokes, when some voices rose above the others downstairs.
"Get back to work, sweetie. Here, take my glass. I could use a refill."
"Did you hear me? I said it's time to go," came a female voice with a sharp edge to it. Howzer peered over the balcony, eyes drawn to a table with a few Weequay pirates huddled over a game of sabacc. A handful of clones were standing around them, arms crossed and brows furrowed, and in the center of the group was Aurelia, pointing toward the door.
One of the pirates stood up, leering at her with just enough impairment to his movements to bely his condition. "We're not done making money off of these chumps!" he said, beckoning toward the clones nearby, who stiffened and appeared to be readying for a fight.
Aurelia sighed, cursing herself inwardly for agreeing to cover a shift by herself. She opened her mouth for one last attempt when a loud clone voice came over her shoulder.
"You're done if she says you're done."
She turned, spotting a familiar clone approaching from the stairs, striding confidently toward the group. She couldn't quite remember his name, but she recognized his messy hair and the way he tried to swagger. Howzer pushed past a couple angry clones to stand beside her, folding his arms over his tensed chest.
"Oh look boys, she's got a little guard dog," the Weequay taunted, turning to poke Howzer in the chest plate, "A nice fresh one all raring to go."
"Come on," a clone beside Howzer said, "Let's not turn this into a big mess. Just call it a night. You've wiped us clean. Take your winnings and go."
"He's got a point," said one of the pirates from the table, rising to his feet to scoop up the variety of credits and cards scattered across it. "Besides, I'm still tired from the last troopers I beat up."
They stood, gathering their things, as Howzer watched sternly. The crowd of clones dissipated, eager to return to their leisure, and the closest Weequay leaned into Aurelia's face, hissing something foul under his breath. She grimaced at the hot blast of stinky air as well as the content of his words.
Smack! Howzer's hand flew out of nowhere, whacking the pirate upside the back of his head. A confused squawk flew from the Weequay's mouth, and one of his cronies was on Howzer in an instant, delivering a tragically accurate sucker punch straight to his gut. He doubled over in pain, quickly followed by terror as his stomach lurched and he felt his dinner come flying back up, out of his mouth, and all over the feet of the pirate in front of him.
A chorus of disgusted sounds rose around him, and the pirates left in revulsion, throwing a litany of insults over their shoulders as they left. Howzer slowly stood back up, hand pressed to his mouth, horrified that one well-placed shot had turned his attempt at courage into a mortifying embarrassment. Aurelia was still next to him, having jumped back a few feet when the pirate charged him, looking at the mess on the floor with a resigned disappointment before turning to fetch a mop from the utility closet.
"Wait, I'll get it," Howzer said, reaching for her elbow. "Or a service droid can?"
"Our droid is perpetually broken. Wait here so no one steps in it," she answered, not looking back. She disappeared around a corner behind the bar, and he stood there for a moment, arms at his sides, ignoring the few judgmental looks from the patrons around him. Aurelia returned with the cleaning supplies, which he promptly took from her arms.
"Please. This was my fault. And it's disgusting," Howzer insisted, and she acquiesced with a mumbled sentence of gratitude. There were a few orders waiting for her at the bar, so she returned to wash her hands and take care of those while he cleaned up the mess.
"I'll put these back," he said, bringing the supplies to the edge of the bar and pausing for a moment, affirmed by Aurelia motioning with her head toward the utility closet. After tucking it all away and washing his hands in the hallway, he slumped on a stool at the very end of the counter. It was getting close to closing time, and the crowd was dwindling. The music was starting to feel like more of an annoyance than anything else, as the desire for sleep began to outweigh the jovial nature of the remaining guests.
A few stragglers were finishing their drinks and conversations, and Aurelia had things mostly tidied up when she noticed Howzer still sitting dejectedly. She was struck by the change in his composure; she had become accustomed to seeing him jaunt around the place, chatting up a variety of females and acting like a general big shot. His friend was noticeably missing tonight, and she felt a sudden intrigue at his complete deflation.
"Thanks for taking care of that earlier," she said, ambling to the end of the bar to chat while she waited for the clock to signal her freedom. "And sorry you got sucker punched."
"That was definitely not how I envisioned that going," he replied, eyes looking up at her from a downcast face.
"Yeah, well... Things often take unexpected turns around here," she offered, studying his face as if it could offer a clue to the name he had shared before giving up. "I'm sorry... What was your name again?"
"Howzer," he muttered, "CT-2420."
"That's right," she said, still mystified by the drastic change in his behavior. She felt oddly moved by it, and it somehow reminded of her older brother when he was disappointed in himself. She glanced at the few remaining patrons, who didn't look close to being done, then back to Howzer. "Don't beat yourself up," she said gently.
"I know. It's just hard to envision my future as a Captain when I can't even handle a few obnoxious spike heads," Howzer answered. "Maybe the cushy life of following politicians around is all I'm suited for after all."
Aurelia smiled, relating to the youthful tendency to overreact to perceived failures. She placed a hand over his, and his head jerked up to look at her, shocked out of his despondency as she spoke, "Sometimes the steps that get us to where we need to be aren't what we think we need. But they can shape and prepare us in unexpected ways."
He regarded her thoughtfully, touched by her compassion and inexplicably drawn in by her dark eyes. "Sounds pretty wise," he mumbled. He was uncharacteristically lost for words; he usually had a whole variety of slick phrases and comebacks, but he felt empty somehow.
"That's why I work here," Aurelia quipped, offering a playful smile in an attempt to encourage him out of his discouraged state. He returned her smile with a small one of his own, and she pulled her hand back from his, checking the time. Thank the Maker, it was finally the end of her shift. She ventured into the room to shoo out the last few stragglers, and Howzer rose to his feet, helmet at his hip, waiting until just the two of them remained. He paused in the doorway, turning his head to Aurelia at a nearby table.
"Hey," he said softly, catching her attention, "Thank you."
***
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