A/N: Hellcat1115 here. This Star Wars Rebels fanfic is inspired by the Star Wars fanfic A Beacon Lost by preceptormtyh101. Anyway this fanfic is M-Rated, for lemons, violence and langauge. As said in the story description this is an Ezra/Harem story meaning that our favourite blue haired Jedi Padwan will be getting to know some very lovely ladies, Sabine, Ketsu and some OC's to just name a few
I only own the plot and my OC's.
Enjoy.
It smelled. It always smelled.
Every time Ezra Bridger entered a Hutt's domain it always smelled of every type of smoke and trash imaginable from spoiled food to the sweaty, scantily clad Twi'lek girls as they moved their bodies sinuously around the club floor, pleasing the many alien males. That also included more than a few stone grey Imperial uniforms. Thankfully, the teenage Lothalian wasn't among them. He was more focused on the mission and forced all such foolish emotions in both his heart and head back and down.
Moreover, Ezra didn't have time to dwell on such matters. More dancers were slowly pouring in from the backstage area hidden by the crimson red silk curtains, signifying the owner, Groddlel, was no doubt close by. The people around him pressed more as they made room for the seductive Twi'leks as they continued to dance. Some were on the floor and groaning with pleasure as the males' eyes watched them while others were in pairs, stroking each others' bodies with delight.
Ezra had seen the same dances many times before. Hutts were never really known for their creativity, unless you counted the number of torture methods they liked to use. Never for the three days he had been here had he seen the dancers change. The crowd's ranks pressed closer, causing his hood to fall down. Fortunately, no one cared. He was considered, by now, a regular, trusted by the patrons and even rumored to be a hardened bounty hunter who spent most of his time working for the Empire.
His red armour was a main part of this; the breastplate made from many horizontal layers of leather with rounded edges and decorational pieces. It covered his entire front and back with the attachment straps making the exposed area under his arms moot. The shoulder plates were fairly pointy, wide and moderate in size, decorated with masterfully crafted layers of leather shaped in the appearance of dragon scales.
His upper arms were protected by chainmail rerebraces which sat nicely underneath. His lower arms are covered by vambraces which had layers of pointed leather on the outer sides and his thighs were covered by a skirt of diagonal layers of leather reaching below his and down to his lower legs protected by leather boots. Each of them had a skull without the lower jaw attached on the outer top sides.
It should go without saying that it had cost quite a few credits in order for the Rebellion to get the armour for him, but thanks to Bail Organa that problem had been overcome. His mission was a relatively simple one; to meet up with an insider who had information on what exactly it was that the Empire was doing on both the planet and the system as a whole. A penthouse had been bought as a base for him to work out of.
He had already figured out a few things on his own, such as that despite the presence of Imperial uniforms, both the officer grey and the stormtrooper white, Groddel was free to run his "business" as long he provided them with resources. Despite his helmet, his nose wrinkled when a particularly smelly pig alien was squished right up next to him. "Zeb smells like roses and dandelions compared to this," Ezra whispered quietly to himself as he tried to remember said sweet smells in such a rank area.
The Gamorrean beside him suddenly snorted something unintelligible in reply. Somewhat startled that he had been heard, Ezra simply nodded and folded his arms. "Yes, I do agree. Your smell does seem to have an intoxicating aroma." Once again the pig snorted and he silently thanked the fact that his helmet had a built-in translator. "Really? Is that a new cologne? I should get some next time I go shopping." The pig suddenly grabbed his hand and slipped a small item into it.
"Thank you, I'll make sure to use this later." The hog's beady eyes looked him over, silently asking for something. Ezra nodded and gave him a couple of hundred credits in return. The alien snorted in acknowledgement before moving off through the crowd with ease. Ezra once again turned his attention back to the dancers as he placed the small object into his pocket. It was obvious that they were all tired, overworked and, from his careful observation, underfed.
He pitied whoever it was who had to tell Groddel to get a new batch later. As if summoned, the music changed and lights were turned on as the master of the establishment himself came into the room with his silver 3PO-series protocol droid at his side. It was unnerving to Ezra how so much lard and fat could move. The dancers ran out of his way, melding with the crowd to the males' delight as many were sexually harassed or groped.
Two stood close to the young Jedi, one was dark purple with only a black silk dress that clung to her body due to her sweat and enticing figure. The other was a bronze orange color who wore a much too small, tight bra that seemed about to burst any second from her impressive bosom. No one came near them. As if thanking him for keeping the other males away, the two dancers clung to him tightly.
All the while they wiggled their bodies against his, trying to draw out a sign of enjoyment which they would take as a view of appreciation. It was at times like these that he was really glad that Kanan had worked him hard on the self control part of his Jedi training. Groddel, his mounds of fat jiggling under the many lights, finally slithered to his perch where he could see the entire dance floor. Many of the aliens raised their glasses to him and roared in their gratitude for having them at the party.
He nodded, his several chins shaking as if attacked by an earthquake, and clapped his hands, signifying the new entertainment. More dancers as well as a frog-alien singer came out onto the stage and provided the audience with a large spectacle of singing and dancing. Despite the repelling aura of the room, the Lothalian found the excitement justifiable and though it was a bit hard to understand how the crowd of testosterone could get so excited by just body movement and a string of words that held no real importance or meaning.
Then again, lust was a very powerful emotion. "Red Dagger." The voice of the 3PO droid sounded off as it singled him out in the crowd. Those around the Jedi dispersed away from him, except for the dancers who still clung to him, although both looked as if they wished they hadn't. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt wishes for you to join him." Ezra nodded in compliance. "Tell the Noble Groddel the Hutt that I would be honored to be graced with his presence."
Changing his gaze to the gallons of fat, the blue haired boy bowed his head to the Hutt who laughed. As if by an invisible force, the crowd separated in front of him, giving him an easy pathway causing more than one voice to curse out something obscene in their language. Although walking slowly, it took only a minute for him to reach Groddel who smiled in greeting. The "Noble" Hutt, his voice rumbling, spoke to the robot.
"The Noble Groddel the Hutt hopes you have been enjoying yourself while watching new entertainment." What the fat slug considered "new" was the same number and dance only this time with different dancers performing. As far as Ezra could tell, seeing a Twi'lek dancer kissing a second one was the same routine that had been played for years within these walls or at least as far as he knew. He knew that the main object of his mission was to meet with his contact.
But at the same time, the Padawan also knew that any opportunity to acquire information hot from the horse's mouth, pun partially intended, would also go down well with Rebel command particularly if there was anything on the Empire. He was also grateful that the painstaking efforts he had undertaken in order to gain the Hutt's trust had paid off, though it had taken a few "jobs" to do so. However, if things went according to plan, not that they always or ever did, then his mission would be all worthwhile.
Ezra shook his head before replying. "I must apologize for my lack of obvious enjoyment. Especially since the Noble Groddel the Hutt has been a gracious host, but there are matters of certain importance which require his great scrutiny." Groddel nodded, his chins flopping, and looked at him with complete concentration. "First we have the dancers currently... entertaining the crowd. However, unfortunately, they are in need of being replaced as they are unable to keep up with your refined standards."
The Hutt, eyeing Ezra, had a thoughtful look on his face, but, after a moment of thinking, nodded anyway, seeing no harm in agreeing with what he said. "I would suggest, with your permission of course, that you keep the first ones but swap them out every once in a while." Groddel nodded again, looking interested despite just hearing the first opinion. He was clearly hoping for more groundbreaking ones.
Though he would put up with the usual reports since Ezra had provided him with useful information and special gifts. "You should also discuss the slave auction taking place tomorrow with Governor Sancolt, mainly to keep pleasantries in order, I've heard that replacement dancers may be possible and that there may be a couple of Wookies and Zabraks coming in."
While any other Hutt might have been tired of such miscellaneous reports, Groddel, instead, nodded in a sign of proper acknowledgement; spoke to his translator and turned his attention back to the dancers who had begun to straddle poles and rub their bodies against them. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt has foreseen this and would like you to check some early samples of their shipment in a few moments," the 3PO Droid said.
Ezra nodded whilst frowning, not because he disagreed, but because he was starting to feel itchy under the oppressive heat. Secondly, he was very concerned about what the response implied. True Groddel wanted to maintain good relations with the Empire in order to keep his business going, and he had five thousand credits in a metal case on his side were to be used to pay the informant. "Agreed. But surely the Noble Groddel could find someone more... appropriate for this task?"
Once again the Hutt laughed, but it was more like an earthquake as his whole body rippled before speaking to the 3PO droid again which translated. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt finds your caution unwarranted. His magnificence believes that these slaves will make great sport for both the audience and in the arena." Ezra sighed, unable to hide his annoyance, but held his tongue.
It had been so hard to please them - the Ghost Crew and Rebel Command, Kanan and Sato in particular - who always expected him to get things done, and any praise he did get was short-lived when he messed up the next mission or did something reckless. Perhaps the only people who really cared or showed any appreciation for his efforts were Hera, Ahsoka and Rex. Deciding to press forward he spoke again.
"Groddel seems to have forgotten about the last set of slaves that fought in the arena. His status, I remember, fell." For the first time that evening Groddel bristled at hearing his failure, his eyes gaining a warning glare that told Ezra Bridger to go no further before growling out a reply. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt dislikes your tone," translated the droid. "The Fat Slug can dislike all he wants. If he doesn't like it, then I see no reason for me to remain her any longer."
While the droid translated, it had the desired effect as Groddel became very nervous, almost afraid as Ezra stared firmly at the tub of lard with his arms folded. He knew that the thought-to-be bounty hunter was both an important asset and ally; he had already saved Groddel's life twice since his arrival, if he was right, and he usually was, then he would be without a powerful ally who would turn on him by switching sides.
That alone would be devastating for, even though Ezra didn't know the full inner workings about Groddel's crime organization, personal life or the Imperial presence, he knew enough about creating contacts and friends right under the Hutt's large eyes. Relenting under this, the alien slug mumbled something to the droid. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt will take your caution under advisement. He thanks you for such news as it will surely affect his decision."
Ezra nodded, but remained expressionless under his helmet. Satisfaction was hard to find him these days. "The last matter is that the Rebellion has been spotted in the systems. There will be a meeting in a couple of weeks as you well know to discuss the matter," he finished Although he hadn't said it in too many words, he hoped the Hutt would get the message.
While the droid translated it was at this moment that Groddel finally noticed the dancers, who both shivered under his gaze, while still staying close to Ezra. He pointed with one of his meaty hands and spoke to the droid. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt asks why these two are here instead of providing entertainment for his majestic self." Being the objects of Jabba's ire, the two, scantily-clad dancers clung to the Lothalian ever harder.
The Padawan could feel them shaking in fear, their bodies covered in a cold sweat. Groddel, while not as infamous as his counterpart Jabba the Hutt, was still a hard master. "These girls merely wished to make my acquaintance, as they and their friends always do." Groddel looked at Ezra who, to his credit, was completely calm, not at all afraid of him. Thankfully, the Hutt decided not to make a big deal out of it.
Like any paying customer, Ezra had the right to speak for them since he had already given the word. Even if he didn't, Groddel wouldn't stop him, as the Red Dagger, Ezra was too great an asset to lose, at least for now. The Hutt waved a pudgy hand, the fat rolling across his arms, and turned his attention back to the other available dancers and singer who began a new number. The droid stiffly bowed to Ezra.
"The Noble Groddel accepts your answer, he wishes that you take your seat for what happens next." Noting the signal to leave, the Padawan nodded, bowed to Groddel before heading back to the seat where he had been previously. Seeing that they had been spared potential punishment, the two Twi'leks both sighed and looked visibly relieved. The orange one disappeared into the crowd, as he was expecting, but the dark purple one followed him back and took a seat beside him.
She didn't try and feel him up or anything of the sort and he noticed that there was a look of genuine gratitude in her eyes that told him a few things, the most obvious being that, while she was a good dancer, she was clearly still relatively new to her surroundings. A yell of horror made him look round in time to see one of the Twi'lek girls, struggling frantically but to no avail as several males held her down, allowing the first of them, a leathery Weequay, the opportunity to try and enter her.
Like lightning his hand shot down to the blaster on his right hip and he brought it up, firing off a trio of bolts the instant it was level. Like an invisible hand, the alien was sent staggering backwards like a rag doll, knocking over several of his comrades on the way. Finally he crashed into a table, backflipped over it, hit the ground and lay still. All eyes were once again on him, except Groddel who clapped his hands in amusement, his body jiggling due to the impact of such fat filled arms.
He did love to see the marksmanship of the Red Dagger being used, not knowing that such a skill had been taught to the boy by Rex. Blaster still in hand and raised, Ezra surveyed the crowd, especially the males who had helped the Weequay almost rape the slave girl. Though his appearance was calm, he felt completely disgusted that he was even the same gender as them. Instead of saying something vile to the now dead Weequay and his companions, all he said was, "Sorry for interrupting the party."
Silence followed for a few minutes before the band on the right hand side of the stage got back to playing while the patrons of the club went back to their own business. It should go without saying that several of the dancers were now looking at Ezra with looks of admiration. Normally he wouldn't have minded such attention but now was far from the ideal time to bask in the adoration of others, especially when he had other priorities.
Moreover, the Twi'lek beside him was shooting glares at her compatriots, silently daring them to try anything. Whoever I'm supposed to meet should be here by now, he thought to himself, looking round the mashing crowd to see if anyone looked like a Rebellion operative. That train of thought was little help as it was practically impossible to assert who was what.
His attention was suddenly diverted for the second time that evening when he felt a wave of fear come from his female "companion" before she grabbed hold of his left arm in a firm grip. He looked round in time as a group of five armed Weequays appeared. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were the followers of the one he had just killed a few moments ago. One, clearly the former second-in-command and now the leader, sat down opposite Ezra, another took up station on his right and a third on his left.
The other two remained standing, their faces grim and their eyes hard. Their blasters were all visible, either in their hands for the latter two, or in the case of the former three, on the surface of the table. Again, it took the young Spectre a lot of willpower to remain calm. "You've got some nerve one-shotting our leader like that, as well as stealing our entertainment," the leading one growled suspiciously.
Every other time, the leathery aliens had had their fun and gotten away with it. Not this time. Behind the visor of his helmet, Ezra calmly stared at them, putting a small amount of the Force into this action. To say the least, the unyielding gaze was unnerving the Weequay, not faltering and remaining steady and unyielding. But there was something more that expressed a hardened will that would not bend, the pirate leader had to look away.
"This girl is under my protection. If you have a problem, I suggest bringing it up with the Noble Groddel the Hutt," replied Ezra. "I'm sure he is more than willing to hear your misplaced complaints." He motioned to the Hutt in question who was busy watching another performance of singing and dancing. Although he could've used his powers; it was too dangerous with the Imperials present.
As the remainder of the crowd were getting over their shock and also turning back to watch the performance, forgetting about the Rebel, the pirate leader grimaced, before he glued his eyes to the ground. He wanted the dancers badly, but he didn't want them at the cost of Groddel's anger. "Fine, but that slug won't be able to protect you forever, punk." The Weequay leader spat out the last word and on the floor as he glared at Ezra and the dancer.
"Well when that happens I'll be sure to be waiting for you," the Padawan, unfazed by the threat, said lightly as he eyed the group evenly. Growling, the pirate leader made to pick up his blaster only for a furry hand with massive claws to grab his own in a vice-like grip. Friend and foe alike looked up to see a seven and a half foot tall Shistavanen with ash grey fur and charcoal black skin standing in front of them and over the two unconscious bodies of the two Weequay who had remained standing.
Three scars ran down over his right eye, half hidden by his fur, and another, single larger and longer one was visible on the upper part of his left arm. He was wearing a sleeveless vest with multiple pockets and a belt that went around his waist. His lower half was covered by a leather skirt that reached down to just above his knees. The butt stock of a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle could be protruding from behind his head at a diagonally right hand angle.
A wicked looking machete could be seen on the left side of the belt with two smaller, but just as deadly looking, knives could be seen. "Beat it, Kriv. I won't ask again." His voice was a deep growl matched by a look in his black eyes that Ezra had only seen a few times before. Faced with this new threat, the Weequay stiffly nodded, not daring to take his eyes off the canine. "Y-y-yeah. Su-sure, Gamreq. Wh-whatever you say," Kriv replied.
The Shistavanen grunted before removing his hand allowing the pirate leader to holster his weapon. Practically shoving each other aside to try and get away from him as soon as possible, the trio vacated the table and quickly disappeared in the direction of the club entrance, the latter two dragging their still knocked out comrades along behind them. Ezra, the Twi'lek and their savior watched them go before the lupine turned his head back to the pair and sat down in the same seat that Kriv had been in a few moments ago.
"Gamreq. Gamreq Shoakda," he said, putting out one of his clawed hands in greeting. "Red Dagger," the Spectre replied, taking the hand and shaking it. "So... Exotic Thunder, eh?" the other asked, gesturing to the scene going on around them. Ezra momentarily froze. That was the code phrase he was supposed to answer for the Rebel agent. Taking a silent breath in through his nose he replied, "Indeed, Hasty Lightning." He saw a gleam appear in Gamreq's eyes.
It was one when someone had heard something that they had been waiting a long time to hear. "So you're the Ghost kid I take it?" the Shistavanen asked, leaning forward and keeping his voice low, not that it was much needed given the amount of noise that was going on around them. Studiously ignoring the sarcasm Ezra replied. "I am." "What about her?" He looked at the Twi'lek who was still seated beside him who looked back at him with a mixture of intrigue and a hint of fear in her dark green eyes.
Without hesitation he looked Gamreq straight in the eyes. "She stays with me. She hasn't tried anything and Hera would probably have my head if she hears about how I left one of her own after saving her." Gamreq nodded with what Ezra guessed was a hint of respect in his eyes. Through the Force he also felt a wave of gratitude from the Twi'lek and gently sent a wave of comfort and understanding in her direction. "Moving on, do you have the information?" he asked.
Without replying, the canine put a data-tape on the table. It was the same as many others of its kind, a continuous narrow, flexible strip of information, stored on reels inside a protective shell, except that this one had a cover with the Imperial symbol on it. "Everything on there?" Ezra asked. "Yep. Bases, mining and scientific operations, the whole kaboodle," Gamreq replied. "Now then, you got the credits?"
Like the other had done, without speaking, Ezra detached the container holding said form of payment and placed it on the table. "Five thousand credits, all yours," the Padawan explained, flipping the latches on the lid and pulling it back to reveal the money inside. He saw Gamreq raise his left eyebrow before he picked one up, turned it over in his hand and then placed it back inside. He looked up at the Padawan.
"Not enough. Ten thousand up front or I keep the tape." "You agreed to being paid," Ezra shot back. "I did, but I never specified the exact amount now, did I?" replied Gamreq with a sly grin. "And just how do you think I'm going to get that amount of credits, huh?" Ezra asked. "If you're thinking that the Rebellion is just gonna cough it up then I should tell you that it would take a very long time for them to reach me." "I've got all the time in the world, kid."
The grin was now gone from Gamreq's face. "Heard that the Empire's got a nice fat bounty on you, I suggest you start thinking hard unless you want every frag-head with an Imperial insignia to know exactly where you are." "What makes you think you'll get anything when I tell them that you're a Rebel operative?" Ezra replied snarkily. He saw a quick flash of uneasiness in the Gamreq's eyes as he realised that the double edged sword move was being played.
"Ten thousand or no deal." Before the young Spectre could reply, the voice of Groddel's translator droid caught their attention as well as that of the crowd. "The Noble Groddel the Hutt wishes that you all take your places!" The trio watched as the club patrons, both alien and Imperial, settled down and the dancers halted in their entertainment and made their way to the stage. Groddel was looking very smug and Ezra had to roll his eyes.
"He gives to you all for a special preview of the auction that will be commencing tomorrow afternoon." A combined cheer rose up from the crowd, particularly from the more rowdy, or more drunken, in Ezra's mind, members. The lights dimmed slightly and the ones above the stage brightened as the band halted in their playing allowing silence to fall. A bulky yellow-green Falleen stepped out and extended his arms in greeting to Groddel's guests and slaving partners from across the galaxy.
"Friends! Welcome to Lunzomia!" he boomed out. "Today, we present you with rich stock in the forms of many life forms from across the Outer Rim!" A chorus of cheers filled Ezra's ears as slavers, mercenaries and gangsters alike urged to commence the auction. The Falleen slave master then gestured towards the curtains as they opened up and two figures came out. "I present to you, a pair of beauties from the Ryloth and Velus Systems!"
One was an athletic and agile looking Twi'lek female. She had fiery orange skin with darker marks running up and down her lekku, under her eyes, her stomach, ocean blue eyes and was wearing a silk dress that did very little to hide her modesty. The other was... was… Ezra felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the human girl dressed in an ornamented copper brassiere, skimpy briefs, thigh-high stockings, and leather strapping wrapped around their legs and feet to create shoes.
She also wore a headdress crowned with vibrantly colored feathers, and two gold bracelets and a snake arm-wrap. She was around his age, had red hair in a pixie cut with a thick part of it stylised so that it fell off to one side, blue eyes and fair skin. His mind flashed back several months to even before he had met the Ghost Crew. It... It couldn't be... The last time he had seen this girl was when- His thoughts were interrupted by the Falleen continuing his introduction.
"Now? They stand ready to serve their new masters, whoever they may be," the Falleen slave master said with a dark chuckle before clapping his hands together and then raising both eyebrows. "Come now friends, let us open the bidding at eight hundred credits." The club was filled with cries of bids, snapping Ezra out of his daze and he saw the looks of terror appear on the faces of the two girls. He had to bid!
He all but jumped to his feet, surprising the Twi'lek girl and Gamreq, and yelled out. "Five thousand credits!" All noise stopped at the sound of my voice and everyone in the crowd turned to look at him, the slave master up on the stage looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "You would pay a fortune for such a... ripe pair of specimens?" Ezra quickly regained his voice and nodded.
"I would. We are bidding after all, are we not? Now if there are no other bids, I will take those two girls off your hands." The Falleen looked around for anyone else bold enough to place a higher bid, but the club was silent. Nodding to himself, he turned back to me and smiled. "They are all yours my friend. If you would present your credits, then our business can be concluded." "Of course," Ezra replied as he made his way through the crowd and up onto the stage to approach the slaver.
Once they were arms length from each other, Ezra handed over the pack containing the credits and flipped it open in order to show the contents, causing the Falleen male to lick his lips with greed as he eyed the case. "Will this be sufficient enough to cover the cost of the girls?" "Indeed my friend. Indeed." Taking the case out of his hands, the Falleen then urged a pair of Gammorrean guards to hand the Twi'lek and girl over to him.
Knowing that he had to make the scene convincing Ezra took a firm hold of their arms and pulled them down from the stage. The pair whimpered and writhed in fear, but he brought them over to the table where the other Twi'lek and Gamreq were still seated. "Let's go." The pair immediately got to their feet, obviously realising that their time there was done.
All three began to head towards the exit with Ezra leading, the three girls following behind with the purple Twi'lek assuring her fellow alien and the human girl that everything was ok, while Gamreq brought up the rear, his blaster in hand. Finally, they passed out of the club entrance and into the cool and comforting night air with the stars and moon shining up high above them. Streetlights and other buildings cast their orange and rainbow coloured glows of light, creating dark shadows in every corner.
Knowing exactly where he was going, Ezra walked down the street before turning off down into one of the many side alleys. He then led the others on through a maze of twists and turns, that even the thugs who knew the streets like the back of their hands got lost in. The Weequays had no doubt planned to ambush him when he was out of Groddel's establishment, but after the confrontation with Gamreq they had obviously taken the very wise decision to leave the Rebel and his friends alone.
Having walked the same streets several times before in order to get his bearings, Ezra easily led them along at a walking pace. Although surrounded by bustling criminal activities and other such justified professions, the alleys he took, however, were always empty. He was never obstructed nor stopped by anything or anyone thus keeping his lead over anyone who may try to follow him. "Come on, we're almost there," he said to the others as they turned one last corner and came to a stop.
Only when they looked up did they understand why. Across the street from them was a large apartment building that had many windows and balconies scattered across the different stories respectively and lights could be seen in some of them. It was mainly built out of brown bricks and had marble decorations, mainly on the arches. At the back of the building was a gorgeous garden, including hanging grape vines, a pagoda, a pond and many different flowers and plants.
From all appearances it was clearly reserved for those who had deep pockets, not that such a prospect bothered the blue-haired boy since it was where he was staying. But there was one more thing that he had to take care of first. Turning around he looked up at Gamreq who was still standing behind the girls with his DLT-19 in hand. Ezra sighed before speaking. "Look... I can't promise anything immediately, as it will take a lot of time, but I will get you what you asked for and-"
But he was cut off as the canine raised a hand up. "Forget the credits kid. I saw what you did for these two," he gestured to the orange Twi'lek and red haired girl, "you were selfless and that's the kind of thing that money can't buy." Ezra could hardly believe what he was hearing. "I may drive a hard bargain, sure, but I know well enough to recognize a good deed when I see one and what you did tonight was proof of that. People like you are a rare find in the Galaxy these days and that I can respect."
The confusion and shock on the Padwan's face was slowly being replaced with a smile that was much more preferable as he heard this. As if the Shivastenan was reading his thoughts Gamreq smiled as well. "See you around, kid." With a final wave, Gamreq turned and headed back the way that the group had come, his bulk eventually disappearing into the inky blackness. Smiling to himself, Ezra turned back in the direction of the building gesturing for the girls to follow him.
All four crossed the street after the Spectre gave a cursory glance up and down its length and across its width. Entering the front of the building, he sent and received a small nod from the Sullustan who was working behind the reception desk. Being in the service of Groddel did have its perks, particularly when you needed to come and go as you pleased without anybody asking any questions.
Heading up the stairs to the top level, Ezra kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure that they weren't being followed. Once they were crested the last step he paused to allow the girls to pass him in order to act as rearguard in case someone decided to jump out of the darkness at them, not that it would end well for whoever that person happened to be.
Walking along the carpet floored corridor with several doors on either side Ezra led the trio to the one at the end, pulled a key card out one of the many pouches on his belt, slid it through the narrow bit which was followed by a beep before the door slid upwards allowing them to enter. He ushered the Twi'leks and human girl inside before doing one final look up and down the corridor for any unwanted guests before stepping into the room himself and allowed the door to slide close behind him for the final time that night.