As she walked, Beretta opened the panel on the side of the data tablet, removing its memory drive and tossing the rest. She needed to get the information back to a Hex-Corp operative. If they knew what it was, they might be able to plug the leak. Not that she cared either way. The more whistle blowers there were, the more work there would be for her.<br/><br/>She made her way toward the transit elevators, passing the grungy, neon lit storefronts. She didn't feel like going all the way to the corporate levels. It was a long trip through a lot of red tape. Not just anyone could get up there from the lower levels. She had a pass that took care of a lot of the bureaucracy but she would have to surrender her weapons and go through a scanner, nude. The transit authority was always wary of non-indentured grays. They needed profiles on their enhancements and since the gray genome was so good at accepting new upgrades, they had to scan you ever single time to see what you might have added. She was too tired for that tonight. Best to go tomorrow in the morning when everyone, including her, was a little less homicidal after a long day.<br/><br/>Beretta shouldered her way through the line of people waiting to begin their commute home after their shifts in the factories. Any protests of her cutting the line were cut short when they saw her skin color, the patch on her arm, or the gun slung across her chest.<br/><br/>The gray approached the turnstile, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a sub dermal data-strip made of dots and squares, a code that gave her access to her level without having to provide documentation at the transit office. Yet another perk of being a freelancer. It was embedded in her arm because... well, what safer place to hide something on a gray than inside them? You needed a thermal cutter to get through their skin and corporate passes were a hot ticket item on the black market.<br/><br/>The turnstile beeped and let her through and she made her way through the crowded station to a vertical tram, raising her arms as a transit officer patted her down. They weren't going to confiscate her weapons but they still needed to be logged. She smiled as the officer decided not to check between her legs. He was willing to risk being fired for not doing a thorough search because he didn't want to bad touch a gray. Not that she hid anything there besides her bits anyway.<br/><br/>The tram doors opened and she entered along with a crowd of other commuters. It was crowded but she shouldered her way to the back of the tram, taking up position with her back to the wall. There was a chime and a disembodied voice announced their departure over the speakers as the tram began to rise to the next level.<br/><br/>Beretta still technically lived in the warrens but it wasn't quite as... filthy as this level. It didn't have the polished look of the corporate levels but it was certainly more her style than a cushy cube that most Hex-Corp employees got.<br/><br/>Not far away, a group of Talon gangers were talking loudly, verbally attacking people around them in their never ending campaign to make themselves the biggest assholes on the station. Beretta simply watched as they got in an older woman's face, threatening sexual assault. When one of them began waving a knife at the little kid next to her, asking if he wanted to see his mommy's guts, Beretta put her hand on the grip of her gun. The passenger beside her noticed and a ripple went through those around the gray, the ripple noticed by the gangers. One of them patted the knife wielder on the shoulder to get his attention. He locked eyes with the gray for a moment before swiftly sheathing the blade. He looked at his friends, afraid he'd seem weak, scoffing and claiming it wasn't worth it before shouldering his way to the other side of the tram, his buddies following.<br/><br/>The gray removed her hand from the gun, leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms, closing her eyes.