Meanwhile, on the other end of the hanger, Rudolf Pendric was having some problems with security.

"I don't see the big deal is." He said indignantly. "He's a pussy cat, really. You're trying to cheat me."

The security personnel glanced over at Gorg curled restfully on the floor beside Rudolf, who proceeded to open his gaping maw and let out a yawn so deep and base that they could feel it in their bones. There was a charge for bringing animals onto the station. There was a charge for bringing Baskervilles onto the station. Then there was a charge, used very rarely, for when someone tried to bring a tank onto the station. The three security men assigned to this gate had taken one look at Rudolf's stalwart companion and decided that the third charge seemed most appropriate, and decision that Rudolf was fiercely contesting.

"One of you just come round, pet his neck." He invited them, patting the creature as best he could through the armored shell. The loud banging that ensued didn't seem to have the desired effect, nor did Gorg leaning into the hard knocks like an affectionate cat. "You see!" he yelled over the din. "Harmless!"

It wasn't even the fact that he was paying more than he thought he should that seemed to offend the man. It was the implication that Giant Gorg, his GG, was in any ways as dangerous and deadly as all that. It was as though he looked at this horrible abomination of flesh and metal and saw nothing but a fluffy, adorable little kitten. A kitten that could get a bit feisty at times, true, but only when it was strictly necessary. It was, first and foremost, a pet to him. A Baskerville was your friend.

That fact that people couldn't seem to grasp this idea is what brought him to Vegas Station in the first place. Like most of his excursions nowadays its purpose was related to the Black Market Baskerville trade. He had met a contact online who'd claimed to have information on an underground convention of enthusiastic [i]hobbyists[/i], but they hadn't felt safe discussing it over the net. They'd agreed to meet on Vegas so that Rudolf could vet their information and take them into the protective custody of Baskerville Security. It was part of the reason he'd needed to bring GG. Being accompanied by the giant custom Baskerville was the easiest way for anyone who was a fan of them to verify his identity. 

None of Rudolf's pleading entreaties or open displays of affection, however, were sufficient to convince security that, despite all evidence to the contrary, GG was not a killing machine. Letting out a frustrated little growl that caused the Baskerville to tense up slightly, Rudolf whipped a PDA out of his pants pocket and began tapping on it. "Fine, I'm wiring you the money." He said, in a tone that suggested this was being done under extreme duress.