To tell the truth, it doesn’t look like much. Just a burgundy-colored wallet like some exec might carry. There isn’t a trace of magic about it. Shell opens it to display the interior. The trio of silver credsticks couched there could be sold to dealers in stolen sticks, but that’s about it. Shell draws a card from a fold in the wallet and smiles. It’s some kind of ID card, corporate. Useless trinket. There are big black letters identifying some corp Bandit’s never heard of. There’s also a hologram of some woman.