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Owner Pose
Penelope Vasquez     A world away from... wherever Penelope is, one Laina Reliah's earpiece rattles for a moment, before her voice spills out of it. It's curt, and professional, and hispanic-accented. "....nnnnd there we go. Evening. This is your contact for the the package secured from Imperium space. We'd like to discuss payment. Specifically- what do you want, Laina? What's to your taste?"
Laina Reliah      Laina puts a hand to her ear, humming a thoughtful note as she secures the STC under her arm. "The easiest answer is money. But this is worth a lot. A very lot. Its base worth alone plus the hazard pay... can you even afford that"
Penelope Vasquez     "Sure can't," the contact states, very bluntly. "Not in liquid money, at least. Which is why I'd like to propose a trade."

     "Some time ago, myself and a coleague... acquired, some magical goods. We needed some of them for an issue at hand, but the majority of them were useless, and- lacking anything to do with them, we just tossed them all in the bank. Staves. Tomes. Magical foci. As I understand it, push a spark of magic in one end, big-ass effect comes out the other. I wouldn't know, not my forte."

     The line stays open, even as Penelope fails to speak. Background noise trickles in; the sound of a rattling gas engine. "We have a literal truckload of the things. I been told you're someone who might have interest in this. At the very least, they hold value in themselves. And, we'll owe you a favor. Formally. Agreeable trade?"
Laina Reliah     "That's what I thought. But this little trade of yours sounds... not all bad." Laina grunts. The sound of machined parts and the racking of weapons emanates through the communicator, followed by a string of whispered curses. "Magical foci specifically have less value to me than other things, but... I could deal with them. I've got some ideas."

    "I have another thing to suggest, seeing that I'm not the most magically inclined naturally myself." There's a pause, as if she's thinking for a moment, then a breath. "Along with that favor... You don't have any labs around, do you? Technical, biological, chemical... I want unrestricted access to one if you've got it. For my own purposes. How's that sound?" There's a CLANG of metal on metal, followed by a satisfied sigh."
Penelope Vasquez     Penelope clucks her tongue. "...tenatively, yyyyes we do. Medical biotech lab. One of our members like to make pet fleshbeasts there. The issue at hand isssss... it isn't really mine to give over access to. I can't guarantee that." A pregnant pause, the only sound over the line that chundering engine. "...but, I do have a plan, along that line. Would tip the odds of that yes in our favor, make us all happy."

     "I can say that this trade-off went very smoothly. We got beers together. We're best friends. You're a Very Definite Ally Of The Watch. I don't really give a shit what your angle is, but we can play pretend. If I come in all smiles and roses at the others, chances are good you'll have people welcoming you with open arms and giving you your lab time."

     A soft cough. "So long as any warcrimes you cook up in our facilities aren't connected to us, of course. I read the AAR, know how you are in action."
Laina Reliah     "Why does everyone keep saying 'warcrimes'? What even is that? You can't commit a crime in war. I'm not even AT war with anyone." Laina's soft grumbling to herself was interrupted with another metallic click.

    "Right. Smooth trade and some nice pretending. You get your little blueprint, I get some of your useless junk, you get a new Very Close Ally, as far as you know, I get to play with all of your best toys." There's a breath. "And a favor that I'll keep in mind. Where do you want me? I'll make the drop, we'll shake hands and say our shit smells like roses, then we'll be on our way."
Penelope Vasquez      "Exactly. I got the truck with my end down in Boston. Look for the green pickup with a crate on the back in the Warehouse district. Can't miss it or me. Show up, I'll hand you the keys and you can take it wherever you like while I smooth it over with the Watch. See you shortly." Click.

     And, indeed, that's exactly where she'd be found, despite the vague directions. She's a nondescript hispanic woman in a janitor's coveralls, half her face hidden by a ballcap pulled way too low. As Laina arrives, she simply steps out of the vehicle- and tosses the keys at her. A pat to the side of the truck's bed, loaded with plywood crates. "Here it is. Drive it off and sort through at your leisure, the truck ain't mine. The blueprint, please." A small gaggle of homeless in a nearby alley try not to look like they're watching the handoff. Penelope doesn't look worried.
Laina Reliah     Laina snatches the keys out of the air as they're tossed, looking down at them with a short hum. "Can't be much different from piloting a walker," she muses. Her catlike ears flit about on her head, swivelling in the direction of the homeless folks. Laina nods, sliding the blueprint out from its secure place under her arm and passing it over to Penelope. "Sounds good. I'll expect to hear from you soon about that lab. Not the kind of payment I'll easily forget about y'know."

    She doesn't wait up, climing into the driver's seat of the pickup truck. It cranks to life, shuddering as the pistons within do their best to keep it going, then slowly rolls down the road and out of site. Slower than anyone else might drive it, but hey, at least it's not driving on the sidewalk.