I'm just a simple gal making her way through the galaxy, making daily doodle art and chipping away at a very long, epic fan fic. You've landed on my Master List, in which you will find the chapter links to AO3 where my fiction is housed. It is still a very long work in progress. I keep my art on AO3 as well to cut down on link usage on Tumblr
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Author’s Note - My story chronicles the love between OC General Lara Lin and her relationship with Captain Rex, Fives, Echo and her leaders of Dragon Company, Primer, Boost and Volte.
NSFW chapters will contain P in V sex, oral sex M & F receiving and giving, mention of open marriage.
SFW chapters may be heavy on description of fighting, fighting technique, medical trauma and/or procedures, blood and some gore due to fighting. A few chapters contain mention of child birth, child loss, and the coping thereof.
Master List - Howzer x OC - Adventure Romance - PG13
Summary: He’s built for battle and driven by conviction. She's too ordinary to matter, or so she thinks. Drawn together by the spark of a kindred spirit, Howzer and Aurelia start to see in each other what they can’t find in themselves. A tumultuous galaxy keeps driving them apart, but somehow they keep finding their way back. Through battles, banter, and everything in between, this is a story full of adventure, romance, angst, yearning, humor, and a slow burn that satisfies. 😏
Chapter 1 - Growing Pains - 4.7k words
22 BBY - Coruscant
Neon lights of every color illuminated the inside of 79s, bathing its wide variety of occupants in a vibrant wash of hues. The place was filled with raucous laughter, loud conversations, and the constant thump of the bass from the speakers. The music created a boisterous feeling, further contributing to the overall atmosphere of letting go and blowing off some steam. Clones in all states of attire were there, alongside a colorful variety of other characters and species.
"You couldn't handle this even if you did want to!" a clone called out as a leggy Pantoran stalked out the door. He turned back to the bar with a self-assured smirk, finishing his drink and setting the mug on the counter. Another clone approached from behind, clapping him on the back and dropping onto the stool next to him.
"Another one?" the newcomer quizzed, lifting his eyebrows in fake surprise, "Well son of a Hutt. It just doesn't make any sense, Howzer."
Brushing his tousled hair out of his face, Howzer regarded his brother with a spark in his eye and a grin on his face. He shrugged theatrically, heaving a mournful sigh as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, then motioned to the bartender for another round for both of them.
"Aww, look at the fresh batch of shinies!" came a voice behind them.
Howzer bristled, turning slightly on his stool. Four troopers from the 148th, clearly inebriated, were pointing and laughing from a table nearby. They continued their taunts.
"Pursue your dreams, boys," one said in a mockingly inspirational tone. "There's a whole wide world out there, full of possibilities."
"The whole war is just waiting for you to be the hero to end it all!”
"Look at those soft little faces! Fresh outta the tube. Just precious."
His jaw set in a rigid line, Howzer stiffened. Noticing the sudden change in composure, his friend placed a gentle yet firm hand on his forearm.
"Ignore em. They just think they’re the porg’s paws because they got hot zone assignments."
"I know, Sprint, but it drives me nuts. They see a few battles and then they can say whatever they want? They have no idea what I'm capable of. Why should I just sit here and take it?" Howzer said, not breaking eye contact from the four at the table.
"Because what else are you going to do, fight them?" Sprint answered, shaking his head as if brushing the idea aside. He turned back to the bar, welcoming the arrival of two glass mugs with open arms. "Come on, the drinks are here."
Howzer turned back slightly, taking a long swig from his mug before putting it on the counter and wiping the froth from his lips. He felt a burning indignation as he heard their continued laughter above the rest of the din of the bar. Finally, he could take it no longer. Grabbing the mug handle and rising to his feet in one swift motion, he sauntered over to their table, towering over them in a wide stance.
"Maybe you rust buckets could use a little reminder of what's behind these soft little faces," he growled, finishing his drink in one last long swallow and slamming the empty glass down on the table, leaving his hand wrapped around the handle.
"Oh look! The shiny wants to test out his wings," said one of the troopers, regarding him with a thoroughly amused air.
"I think he's just had a bit too much tonight," Sprint said, approaching from behind with his hands up in a diplomatic gesture. "Sorry, fellas. He doesn't get out much." He put a hand on Howzer's back, silently inviting him to take the opportunity to extricate himself before the situation escalated any further.
"Well of course! We all know little boys can't hold their liquor anyway," another trooper jeered, leaning forward to stand up. Before he made it upright, though, Howzer swung the empty glass mug with full force into his gut, and the air whooshed out of him as he doubled over. The other three were on their feet instantly, staring at him in shock for a moment. He flung the mug at the nearest one, then leapt to tackle the clone on his other side. They both hit the ground in a flailing pile.
Sprint sighed, but had no further time to mourn Howzer's choices as a fist came flying at his face. He ducked under it and rushed the clone, knocking him onto the table. Another one grabbed Sprint from behind, pulling him backward, but falling to the ground as his legs were suddenly kicked out from under him by Howzer.
Three minutes, one black eye, two broken teeth, and six bruised egos later, the fight was broken up by some officers who were getting tired of the disruption. They were unceremoniously thrown out, nursing their wounds and their pride. Sprint followed Howzer down the street, rubbing the back of his neck where it had hit the edge of a table.
"Now who would have seen that coming..." Sprint began.
"Don't start," Howzer interrupted, wiping the blood from his cheekbone where it had been split open. "They won't be giving me that garbage when I'm a Captain."
"I don't think being a Captain is all you've cracked it up to be," Sprint replied calmly, "But sure."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"You didn't have to get caught up in that," Howzer said, stopping to allow Sprint to catch up to him so they could walk together. "Sorry about your neck."
"I don't think I had much choice, but either way, I've got your back," Sprint assured him as they trudged back to their quarters.
"Look sharp," Hex whispered, and Howzer stood up a bit straighter as Orn Free Taa exited the Senate chamber. Without a word, they both fell into step beside him, escorting him through the hallway. They marched smartly, DC-17s in hand, and it took all of Howzer's self-control to avoid staring at Taa's many quivering chins as he talked about his afternoon plans.
Once they arrived at the restaurant, they were dismissed to wait outside, and Howzer slumped against the building unceremoniously, groaning inwardly at his lot in life. Hex remained standing at attention next to him, and the judgment emanating from him was palpable.
"Why doesn't he have his own Twi'leki guards?" Howzer complained, pulling his helmet off. His hair had grown out from the standard military cut they received on Kamino, and it fell across his forehead in thick black pieces. He ran a hand through it, looking at Hex and continuing his protest, "Aren't they supposed to be fierce warriors or something? I mean, obviously not the politicians, but the ones back on Ryloth at least?"
Hex shifted his weight slightly; it was clearly not the first time he had heard these complaints. "This is our assignment. We are soldiers of the Republic, assigned to do whatever the Republic needs us to do. Would you like to take it up with the Captain?"
"No," Howzer sighed, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other, "I just didn't get the impression that our training would be preparing us to ensure that a Senator can eat all day long." He could have sworn he heard a quick laugh-turned-cough from Hex, but he decided not to push his luck.
A couple of female Twi'leks passed by on the sidewalk in front of them, and Howzer stood tall immediately, tucking his helmet under his arm and running a hand through his hair again.
"Hey, you two! How would you like a job?" he said, in an insufferably cheesy tone. "I'll hire you right here on the spot. Well, one of you. The other one can come to lunch with me."
Hex let out an audible groan then, and the Twi'leks looked at each other with a shared grimace. But Howzer was unfazed, "Now now, don't fight over it. I know it's a lot to take in all at once. Take your time, sort it out between yourselves, and let me know which one of you is the lucky lady who gets to hit the town with me."
At that, they simply turned and continued on their way, gliding down the sidewalk in a cloud of eyerolls and wrinkled noses. Howzer resumed his lean against the wall, sighing in defeat.
"Their loss."
Aurelia wiped the cloth across the bar counter mindlessly as she watched an hourglass-shaped BD-3000 luxury droid moving to the beat with a predictable series of motions, fully holding the clone’s attention as he danced along next to her. A smile crept onto Aurelia's face, accompanied by the mild fondness she always felt at the clones' behaviors. That one especially, CT-1999, came to the establishment anytime he had a free moment, and his affinity for dancing had earned him the nickname “Bop”.
She had worked at 79s for a few months, considering it a "place holder" while she figured out a more long-term career plan. She simultaneously had far too many aspirations at once while also feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed by all of them, settling instead to cater to the needs of a rowdy crowd most nights while she daydreamed about the possibilities.
"Whatcha thinkin about, beautiful?" came an exceedingly smooth clone voice, bringing her back to reality, and her eyes snapped into focus to see Pivot leaning on the bar across from her. She smiled, swatting her washcloth at him playfully.
"Just pining for your return, of course," Aurelia responded quickly, flipping the cloth over her shoulder and bending down to prepare his usual drink. He had been coming there long before she started, and he was as comforting as he was harmless. She had initially been put off by what seemed like advances, but when she realized there was nothing behind them other than flattery and fun, she relaxed and played along.
"Well, feast your eyes," Pivot answered, sliding some credits across the counter to her as she poured the drink from the shaker into a highball glass. She plopped a couple bright berries on the top and pushed it toward him, snorting in delight when she saw the macho pose he had struck.
"Consider them feasted."
Pivot laughed, giving her a playful salute as he scooped up his glass and made his way back to his squad in a corner booth.
"I mean, if you think about it, it seems like such a simple solution," Howzer said, gesturing abstractly with one hand. "I can't wait to show them what some real strategy looks like."
"I'm sure they'll be grateful," purred the Mirialan next to him, cupping her face in her hand and resting an elbow on the table, looking up at him with admiration.
"Well, it's what we were made for," he answered, puffing up a bit more. This had been going surprisingly well, and he fought to keep his composure. "So, any other plans tonight?"
She shook her head demurely, muttering something about unpacking some cargo crates.
"I've got a little something you can unpack," Howzer chortled, "If you need some practice. Er, a big something. That can pack—“
"Ugh," came the reply, and she quickly excused herself with a roll of the eyes. He leaned back in the booth, allowing a brief sigh before gathering himself and rising to his feet. He ambled to the bar counter, scanning the room for any familiar faces along the way and seeing none. He missed Sprint, who was his usual companion when his romantic pursuits came up empty, and consoled himself by imagining the missions his brother may have been enjoying.
"Can I get you anything?"
Howzer looked up, finding the bartender waiting patiently across from him, wiping a glass as she regarded him with a slightly tilted head. He could work with this — she was alive, aware, and talking to him. Just his type. He leaned jauntily against the counter, flashing his roguish grin and turning on the charm.
"Listen, I know you probably have a lot of questions, but before we dive in, you can go ahead and take a moment to soak it all in. I'm sure you're wondering how you, of all people, managed to find the best-looking clone, right here in your own bar."
Aurelia smirked at the blatant irony of his phrase, fully prepared with a tongue-in-cheek response, "'Best-looking clone'? Did they teach you about irony on Kamino?"
"They taught us about everything," Howzer returned evenly, "So if you've got any questions, I'd be happy to let you in on all the mysteries of the galaxy." He raised one eyebrow with a distinctly fiendish air, taking in her features to find something to compliment. She had long, brown hair and dark eyes with a bit of a slant to them, but aside from that, she was as unremarkable as he’d ever seen. She had… lips… and her nose was… a nose… Her jaw had a slight angle to it, and her height and build were… standard. Perhaps he’d take a more intellectual pursuit.
"Wow. What an offer," she marveled flatly, pressing the back of a hand to her forehead as if about to faint. This sort of interchange came with the territory, sure, but could also become tiresome. She yearned for any conversation of substance and was realizing more and more frequently that this was not the atmosphere for that.
“Mhm,” he nodded. “And you seem like a smart girl, so I’m sure I’ll be right up your alley… If you know what I mean.” He stifled a chuckle as he realized the [unfathomably distant] potential of a double entendre and was now grinning like an idiot.
"Huh? What do you mean?” she asked, eyes widening with naïveté.
He faltered, mouth falling slightly open as he fought to regain his metaphorical balance and come up with something with even more zing. This was going to be great.
“Ohhhh,” she said suddenly, lifting her chin as though it had just dawned upon her. “You’ll be up my alley… Like my vagina is an alley and you’re gonna get in it…”
Her volume was loud enough to ignite an explosion of coughs, splutters, and guffaws from the nearby patrons, and Howzer gaped at her from a face that was as shocked as it was red. Aurelia winked at a Zabrak who was giving her a thumbs up from the side, then finally took a handful of orders from a raucous bunch that had been waiting. He watched as she poured and prepared, exchanging quips and thanks, then she turned back to him.
“Anyway, can I get you anything?" She arranged her features into polite nonchalance.
"Uh,” he muttered. Her reseponse had been the last thing he’d expected, and as embarrassed as he was, there was absolute delight bubbling up beneath it.
“Shall I surprise you?” Glimmering eyes framed a wry smile. Her face was plain but what came out of it surely wasn’t.
“No, you already did that,” he chuckled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll have a fizz. Please.” He’d quickly added the last part in response to a playful tilt of her head and watched as she turned to fetch one from the conservator. The bar droid, whirling its arms to rinse and replenish glasses as quickly as possible, moved behind her to reach for a fresh rack just as she was turning to come back. They collided clumsily, each making a noise of indignation while scrambling to keep hold of their items, and Howzer had to rest a fist against his mouth to stifle his reaction. But when she slid the bottle across the bar to him, flustered and red-cheeked, he couldn’t resist a little jab.
“I think you deserved that.”
“Ha,” she snorted, flashing a sheepish grin instead of the indignant scowl he anticipated. It seemed that her clumsiness had taken her down a notch. He reached for the bottle, but she was still holding it tightly, and she leaned her elbows on the counter. “For what?”
“For being… For being too loud about vaginas…” he fumbled, laughing at himself now. He wasn’t sure he’d ever uttered that word aloud, and his self-effacing frankness was rubbing off on her as well. She let go of the bottle, dropping her eyes and shaking her head with a fond chuckle before regarding him warmly.
“But your terrible advances deserve such fanfare,” she stated, nodding sagely with her best attempt to convey dignity and wisdom.
“Terrible!” he protested, jerking the bottle toward him with a look of affront. “The only thing that’s terrible is your taste.”
“Mmm. My parents would agree,” she returned evenly, flashing a sardonic expression to cover the slightest tinge of sadness in her words. “My brother too.”
“Brother, eh? I’ve got a few of those.”
“You don’t say.”
She smiled, tapped the counter, and darted away to serve another handful of customers. Howzer couldn’t help but notice her gaze flitting back to him a few times, and he began to wrack his brain for other things to say since their conversation seemed to be of interest to her. Maybe he was imagining it, though, as she had a similar repartee with other clones, especially Pivot, who touched her hand and said something with mock sincerity as she handed him a glass mug. She leaned in to hear him, then shook her head with a laugh as they parted ways, and when she turned to tap a few buttons on the register, he noticed her shoulders hunch a bit as though she were taking a break from a facade. When she returned to take some orders from clones beside him, he was eager to continue their exchange and went with the first thing that came to mind.
“So what are your wildest dreams?" Howzer yelled over the music and voices. The officer behind him laughed and swatted the back of his head.
“What the kriff are you on about, trooper?”
“Just practicing social interaction,” he winked.
“Well practice more!” The group hooted in response and he got a few slaps on the back as they left.
“I just thought it would be–” he began, as Aurelia smiled at him.
“To read whimsical poetry while sitting beneath a large tree on a serene, cloudy day," she answered without missing a beat. She turned to get a bottle from the conservator behind her, missing the flash of surprise on Howzer's face. He looked serious for a moment, something working its way through his brain, but was back to his cocky little show when she turned back around.
"Wow," he bantered, "What refined taste you have. I'll get right on that."
“With all your free time?”
“I’m one of those ‘I can do it all’ types,” he smirked, puffing his chest out a bit.
“Alright, Mister I-Can-Do-It-All,” she sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’ll be eagerly waiting.”
“Excellent. And you can call me Howzer if that’s too long to say.” He extended a hand across the counter.
"Aurelia," she responded, shaking it and secretly hoping his desire for attention had been satisfied.
"Aurelia," he echoed, trying it on for size, "Fancy name for a fancy lady. Alright, Aurelia. I'll be seeing you. Try to hold it together until we meet again." Howzer popped the cap from the bottle, flipped it toward her like a coin, gave her a wink, and sauntered off.
Howzer sighed, knuckles tightening on the edges of his tray in the mess hall. "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 him 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, whose offerings never changed.
"You can find 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 as he followed after him.
"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 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. And 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 troopers 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 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 brothers 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 said to what appeared to be the leader of the scallywags, "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. They staggered back and forth for a moment, swatting at one another clumsily. One particularly messy swing left Howzer exposed, and the pirate landed 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 gang in front of him.
With a loud chorus of shock and disgust, the pirates left, 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 repulsed looks and judgmental jabs 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. When he finished, he remained on his knee for a moment, then sighed and got to his feet.
"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 the only thing I'm suited for after all."
Aurelia smiled, relating to the 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."
.
Master List - Next Chapter
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Master List - Howzer x OC - Adventure Romance - PG13
Summary: He’s built for battle and driven by conviction. She's too ordinary to matter, or so she thinks. Drawn together by the spark of a kindred spirit, Howzer and Aurelia start to see in each other what they can’t find in themselves. A tumultuous galaxy keeps driving them apart, but somehow they keep finding their way back. Through battles, banter, and everything in between, this is a story full of adventure, romance, angst, yearning, humor, and a slow burn that satisfies. 😏
Chapter 1 - Growing Pains - 4.7k words
22 BBY - Coruscant
Neon lights of every color illuminated the inside of 79s, bathing its wide variety of occupants in a vibrant wash of hues. The place was filled with raucous laughter, loud conversations, and the constant thump of the bass from the speakers. The music created a boisterous feeling, further contributing to the overall atmosphere of letting go and blowing off some steam. Clones in all states of attire were there, alongside a colorful variety of other characters and species.
"You couldn't handle this even if you did want to!" a clone called out as a leggy Pantoran stalked out the door. He turned back to the bar with a self-assured smirk, finishing his drink and setting the mug on the counter. Another clone approached from behind, clapping him on the back and dropping onto the stool next to him.
"Another one?" the newcomer quizzed, lifting his eyebrows in fake surprise, "Well son of a Hutt. It just doesn't make any sense, Howzer."
Brushing his tousled hair out of his face, Howzer regarded his brother with a spark in his eye and a grin on his face. He shrugged theatrically, heaving a mournful sigh as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, then motioned to the bartender for another round for both of them.
"Aww, look at the fresh batch of shinies!" came a voice behind them.
Howzer bristled, turning slightly on his stool. Four troopers from the 148th, clearly inebriated, were pointing and laughing from a table nearby. They continued their taunts.
"Pursue your dreams, boys," one said in a mockingly inspirational tone. "There's a whole wide world out there, full of possibilities."
"The whole war is just waiting for you to be the hero to end it all!”
"Look at those soft little faces! Fresh outta the tube. Just precious."
His jaw set in a rigid line, Howzer stiffened. Noticing the sudden change in composure, his friend placed a gentle yet firm hand on his forearm.
"Ignore em. They just think they’re the porg’s paws because they got hot zone assignments."
"I know, Sprint, but it drives me nuts. They see a few battles and then they can say whatever they want? They have no idea what I'm capable of. Why should I just sit here and take it?" Howzer said, not breaking eye contact from the four at the table.
"Because what else are you going to do, fight them?" Sprint answered, shaking his head as if brushing the idea aside. He turned back to the bar, welcoming the arrival of two glass mugs with open arms. "Come on, the drinks are here."
Howzer turned back slightly, taking a long swig from his mug before putting it on the counter and wiping the froth from his lips. He felt a burning indignation as he heard their continued laughter above the rest of the din of the bar. Finally, he could take it no longer. Grabbing the mug handle and rising to his feet in one swift motion, he sauntered over to their table, towering over them in a wide stance.
"Maybe you rust buckets could use a little reminder of what's behind these soft little faces," he growled, finishing his drink in one last long swallow and slamming the empty glass down on the table, leaving his hand wrapped around the handle.
"Oh look! The shiny wants to test out his wings," said one of the troopers, regarding him with a thoroughly amused air.
"I think he's just had a bit too much tonight," Sprint said, approaching from behind with his hands up in a diplomatic gesture. "Sorry, fellas. He doesn't get out much." He put a hand on Howzer's back, silently inviting him to take the opportunity to extricate himself before the situation escalated any further.
"Well of course! We all know little boys can't hold their liquor anyway," another trooper jeered, leaning forward to stand up. Before he made it upright, though, Howzer swung the empty glass mug with full force into his gut, and the air whooshed out of him as he doubled over. The other three were on their feet instantly, staring at him in shock for a moment. He flung the mug at the nearest one, then leapt to tackle the clone on his other side. They both hit the ground in a flailing pile.
Sprint sighed, but had no further time to mourn Howzer's choices as a fist came flying at his face. He ducked under it and rushed the clone, knocking him onto the table. Another one grabbed Sprint from behind, pulling him backward, but falling to the ground as his legs were suddenly kicked out from under him by Howzer.
Three minutes, one black eye, two broken teeth, and six bruised egos later, the fight was broken up by some officers who were getting tired of the disruption. They were unceremoniously thrown out, nursing their wounds and their pride. Sprint followed Howzer down the street, rubbing the back of his neck where it had hit the edge of a table.
"Now who would have seen that coming..." Sprint began.
"Don't start," Howzer interrupted, wiping the blood from his cheekbone where it had been split open. "They won't be giving me that garbage when I'm a Captain."
"I don't think being a Captain is all you've cracked it up to be," Sprint replied calmly, "But sure."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"You didn't have to get caught up in that," Howzer said, stopping to allow Sprint to catch up to him so they could walk together. "Sorry about your neck."
"I don't think I had much choice, but either way, I've got your back," Sprint assured him as they trudged back to their quarters.
"Look sharp," Hex whispered, and Howzer stood up a bit straighter as Orn Free Taa exited the Senate chamber. Without a word, they both fell into step beside him, escorting him through the hallway. They marched smartly, DC-17s in hand, and it took all of Howzer's self-control to avoid staring at Taa's many quivering chins as he talked about his afternoon plans.
Once they arrived at the restaurant, they were dismissed to wait outside, and Howzer slumped against the building unceremoniously, groaning inwardly at his lot in life. Hex remained standing at attention next to him, and the judgment emanating from him was palpable.
"Why doesn't he have his own Twi'leki guards?" Howzer complained, pulling his helmet off. His hair had grown out from the standard military cut they received on Kamino, and it fell across his forehead in thick black pieces. He ran a hand through it, looking at Hex and continuing his protest, "Aren't they supposed to be fierce warriors or something? I mean, obviously not the politicians, but the ones back on Ryloth at least?"
Hex shifted his weight slightly; it was clearly not the first time he had heard these complaints. "This is our assignment. We are soldiers of the Republic, assigned to do whatever the Republic needs us to do. Would you like to take it up with the Captain?"
"No," Howzer sighed, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other, "I just didn't get the impression that our training would be preparing us to ensure that a Senator can eat all day long." He could have sworn he heard a quick laugh-turned-cough from Hex, but he decided not to push his luck.
A couple of female Twi'leks passed by on the sidewalk in front of them, and Howzer stood tall immediately, tucking his helmet under his arm and running a hand through his hair again.
"Hey, you two! How would you like a job?" he said, in an insufferably cheesy tone. "I'll hire you right here on the spot. Well, one of you. The other one can come to lunch with me."
Hex let out an audible groan then, and the Twi'leks looked at each other with a shared grimace. But Howzer was unfazed, "Now now, don't fight over it. I know it's a lot to take in all at once. Take your time, sort it out between yourselves, and let me know which one of you is the lucky lady who gets to hit the town with me."
At that, they simply turned and continued on their way, gliding down the sidewalk in a cloud of eyerolls and wrinkled noses. Howzer resumed his lean against the wall, sighing in defeat.
"Their loss."
Aurelia wiped the cloth across the bar counter mindlessly as she watched an hourglass-shaped BD-3000 luxury droid moving to the beat with a predictable series of motions, fully holding the clone’s attention as he danced along next to her. A smile crept onto Aurelia's face, accompanied by the mild fondness she always felt at the clones' behaviors. That one especially, CT-1999, came to the establishment anytime he had a free moment, and his affinity for dancing had earned him the nickname “Bop”.
She had worked at 79s for a few months, considering it a "place holder" while she figured out a more long-term career plan. She simultaneously had far too many aspirations at once while also feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed by all of them, settling instead to cater to the needs of a rowdy crowd most nights while she daydreamed about the possibilities.
"Whatcha thinkin about, beautiful?" came an exceedingly smooth clone voice, bringing her back to reality, and her eyes snapped into focus to see Pivot leaning on the bar across from her. She smiled, swatting her washcloth at him playfully.
"Just pining for your return, of course," Aurelia responded quickly, flipping the cloth over her shoulder and bending down to prepare his usual drink. He had been coming there long before she started, and he was as comforting as he was harmless. She had initially been put off by what seemed like advances, but when she realized there was nothing behind them other than flattery and fun, she relaxed and played along.
"Well, feast your eyes," Pivot answered, sliding some credits across the counter to her as she poured the drink from the shaker into a highball glass. She plopped a couple bright berries on the top and pushed it toward him, snorting in delight when she saw the macho pose he had struck.
"Consider them feasted."
Pivot laughed, giving her a playful salute as he scooped up his glass and made his way back to his squad in a corner booth.
"I mean, if you think about it, it seems like such a simple solution," Howzer said, gesturing abstractly with one hand. "I can't wait to show them what some real strategy looks like."
"I'm sure they'll be grateful," purred the Mirialan next to him, cupping her face in her hand and resting an elbow on the table, looking up at him with admiration.
"Well, it's what we were made for," he answered, puffing up a bit more. This had been going surprisingly well, and he fought to keep his composure. "So, any other plans tonight?"
She shook her head demurely, muttering something about unpacking some cargo crates.
"I've got a little something you can unpack," Howzer chortled, "If you need some practice. Er, a big something. That can pack—“
"Ugh," came the reply, and she quickly excused herself with a roll of the eyes. He leaned back in the booth, allowing a brief sigh before gathering himself and rising to his feet. He ambled to the bar counter, scanning the room for any familiar faces along the way and seeing none. He missed Sprint, who was his usual companion when his romantic pursuits came up empty, and consoled himself by imagining the missions his brother may have been enjoying.
"Can I get you anything?"
Howzer looked up, finding the bartender waiting patiently across from him, wiping a glass as she regarded him with a slightly tilted head. He could work with this — she was alive, aware, and talking to him. Just his type. He leaned jauntily against the counter, flashing his roguish grin and turning on the charm.
"Listen, I know you probably have a lot of questions, but before we dive in, you can go ahead and take a moment to soak it all in. I'm sure you're wondering how you, of all people, managed to find the best-looking clone, right here in your own bar."
Aurelia smirked at the blatant irony of his phrase, fully prepared with a tongue-in-cheek response, "'Best-looking clone'? Did they teach you about irony on Kamino?"
"They taught us about everything," Howzer returned evenly, "So if you've got any questions, I'd be happy to let you in on all the mysteries of the galaxy." He raised one eyebrow with a distinctly fiendish air, taking in her features to find something to compliment. She had long, brown hair and dark eyes with a bit of a slant to them, but aside from that, she was as unremarkable as he’d ever seen. She had… lips… and her nose was… a nose… Her jaw had a slight angle to it, and her height and build were… standard. Perhaps he’d take a more intellectual pursuit.
"Wow. What an offer," she marveled flatly, pressing the back of a hand to her forehead as if about to faint. This sort of interchange came with the territory, sure, but could also become tiresome. She yearned for any conversation of substance and was realizing more and more frequently that this was not the atmosphere for that.
“Mhm,” he nodded. “And you seem like a smart girl, so I’m sure I’ll be right up your alley… If you know what I mean.” He stifled a chuckle as he realized the [unfathomably distant] potential of a double entendre and was now grinning like an idiot.
"Huh? What do you mean?” she asked, eyes widening with naïveté.
He faltered, mouth falling slightly open as he fought to regain his metaphorical balance and come up with something with even more zing. This was going to be great.
“Ohhhh,” she said suddenly, lifting her chin as though it had just dawned upon her. “You’ll be up my alley… Like my vagina is an alley and you’re gonna get in it…”
Her volume was loud enough to ignite an explosion of coughs, splutters, and guffaws from the nearby patrons, and Howzer gaped at her from a face that was as shocked as it was red. Aurelia winked at a Zabrak who was giving her a thumbs up from the side, then finally took a handful of orders from a raucous bunch that had been waiting. He watched as she poured and prepared, exchanging quips and thanks, then she turned back to him.
“Anyway, can I get you anything?" She arranged her features into polite nonchalance.
"Uh,” he muttered. Her reseponse had been the last thing he’d expected, and as embarrassed as he was, there was absolute delight bubbling up beneath it.
“Shall I surprise you?” Glimmering eyes framed a wry smile. Her face was plain but what came out of it surely wasn’t.
“No, you already did that,” he chuckled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll have a fizz. Please.” He’d quickly added the last part in response to a playful tilt of her head and watched as she turned to fetch one from the conservator. The bar droid, whirling its arms to rinse and replenish glasses as quickly as possible, moved behind her to reach for a fresh rack just as she was turning to come back. They collided clumsily, each making a noise of indignation while scrambling to keep hold of their items, and Howzer had to rest a fist against his mouth to stifle his reaction. But when she slid the bottle across the bar to him, flustered and red-cheeked, he couldn’t resist a little jab.
“I think you deserved that.”
“Ha,” she snorted, flashing a sheepish grin instead of the indignant scowl he anticipated. It seemed that her clumsiness had taken her down a notch. He reached for the bottle, but she was still holding it tightly, and she leaned her elbows on the counter. “For what?”
“For being… For being too loud about vaginas…” he fumbled, laughing at himself now. He wasn’t sure he’d ever uttered that word aloud, and his self-effacing frankness was rubbing off on her as well. She let go of the bottle, dropping her eyes and shaking her head with a fond chuckle before regarding him warmly.
“But your terrible advances deserve such fanfare,” she stated, nodding sagely with her best attempt to convey dignity and wisdom.
“Terrible!” he protested, jerking the bottle toward him with a look of affront. “The only thing that’s terrible is your taste.”
“Mmm. My parents would agree,” she returned evenly, flashing a sardonic expression to cover the slightest tinge of sadness in her words. “My brother too.”
“Brother, eh? I’ve got a few of those.”
“You don’t say.”
She smiled, tapped the counter, and darted away to serve another handful of customers. Howzer couldn’t help but notice her gaze flitting back to him a few times, and he began to wrack his brain for other things to say since their conversation seemed to be of interest to her. Maybe he was imagining it, though, as she had a similar repartee with other clones, especially Pivot, who touched her hand and said something with mock sincerity as she handed him a glass mug. She leaned in to hear him, then shook her head with a laugh as they parted ways, and when she turned to tap a few buttons on the register, he noticed her shoulders hunch a bit as though she were taking a break from a facade. When she returned to take some orders from clones beside him, he was eager to continue their exchange and went with the first thing that came to mind.
“So what are your wildest dreams?" Howzer yelled over the music and voices. The officer behind him laughed and swatted the back of his head.
“What the kriff are you on about, trooper?”
“Just practicing social interaction,” he winked.
“Well practice more!” The group hooted in response and he got a few slaps on the back as they left.
“I just thought it would be–” he began, as Aurelia smiled at him.
“To read whimsical poetry while sitting beneath a large tree on a serene, cloudy day," she answered without missing a beat. She turned to get a bottle from the conservator behind her, missing the flash of surprise on Howzer's face. He looked serious for a moment, something working its way through his brain, but was back to his cocky little show when she turned back around.
"Wow," he bantered, "What refined taste you have. I'll get right on that."
“With all your free time?”
“I’m one of those ‘I can do it all’ types,” he smirked, puffing his chest out a bit.
“Alright, Mister I-Can-Do-It-All,” she sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’ll be eagerly waiting.”
“Excellent. And you can call me Howzer if that’s too long to say.” He extended a hand across the counter.
"Aurelia," she responded, shaking it and secretly hoping his desire for attention had been satisfied.
"Aurelia," he echoed, trying it on for size, "Fancy name for a fancy lady. Alright, Aurelia. I'll be seeing you. Try to hold it together until we meet again." Howzer popped the cap from the bottle, flipped it toward her like a coin, gave her a wink, and sauntered off.
Howzer sighed, knuckles tightening on the edges of his tray in the mess hall. "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 him 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, whose offerings never changed.
"You can find 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 as he followed after him.
"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 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. And 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 troopers 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 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 brothers 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 said to what appeared to be the leader of the scallywags, "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. They staggered back and forth for a moment, swatting at one another clumsily. One particularly messy swing left Howzer exposed, and the pirate landed 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 gang in front of him.
With a loud chorus of shock and disgust, the pirates left, 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 repulsed looks and judgmental jabs 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. When he finished, he remained on his knee for a moment, then sighed and got to his feet.
"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 the only thing I'm suited for after all."
Aurelia smiled, relating to the 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."
.
Master List - Next Chapter
Join the tag list by hopping into the [no chatting] discord server or filling out my form.
Been working on year on some cozy gloves for this fall. Sneak on over to my shop and see what goodies I have there. Clone trooper and other Star Wars patterns available as custom orders! Check it out! Use HELLOFALL for 25% discount on all colorway gloves. Use IMISSTHOSECLONES for 25% off on Star Wars patterns.
It’s a shame the newer clones from TBB didn’t get their own motif or unit designation/art. It was a little hard trying to figure out something unique for Howzer, and disappointing to find he still has no CT number 😱
At any rate, here is a first rendering of his pattern, though I may play with doing it in a dove gray with the teal as the accent color.
It’s been forever since I was able to dedicate any time to drawing, and I’ve been doodling this for weeks, a little at a time. Probably the closest I’ve gotten to my goal of realism yet.
I have doodled and redoodled and erased and started over and stepped back and thought, invited my artist friends to critique…. it may never get finished, but at least it’s fun to stare at.
What clones/characters would you like to see as a made glove next?
New patterns made for: Hardcase and Bly (just waiting on more supplies)
Pondering a Howzer pattern, and currently making the one pictured above, which is my OC clone. As reported before, I am pretty sure I can make custom patterns and gloves for OCs if there’s interest!
