The laboratory reeked of smoke, but through diligent effort most rubble had been removed overnight and the floors given a preliminary dusting. Currently, the maintenance team focused on scrubbing the metal ceiling panels over the fumigation hoods where last night's fire had begun. Ariana sat as far away from them as she could, hunkered down in front of a computer terminal with two monitors. She was near the windows, and a pleasant midday breeze slipped past the tarp that covered the single broken pane.

On her left monitor, Ariana had open a series of documents with numbers and equations in cells. On the right, in a presentation program, she was attempting to convert the data into a colorful bar graph. An onlooker might get the sense this was not going well for Ariana, mostly from the tone of her muttering.

Using the on-screen pointer to select and carefully drag one of the colorful bars into position, she mis-clicked and several of the graphics rearranged themselves into jumbled chaos.

"RAHHUGH!"

Across the room, the maintenance team all turned to look at her, curious. Ariana ignored them. She ran a hand through the back of her hair, tugging her fingers though in frustration then shaking the loosened red strands onto the floor.

"You're ruining your ends…"

Ariana looked up and around. She had to pivot halfway in her seat before she faced Miyamoto, Madame Boss's right-hand woman, looming behind her at a distance at which Ariana was certain her computer screen was readable.

Deftly, she fingered the keys to minimize her programs as Miyamoto took one step closer. The woman was already imposingly tall, but from her seat, Ariana felt doubly dwarfed, and over again by their disparity in rank. Still, Ariana nursed a smoldering defiance for anything that might stand between her and her research goals, and that smelted enough steel to her spine to forge a reply.

"I'd shave it all off if it would make me better at making presentations," Ariana said, still twisted in her chair, looking up.

Miyamoto smiled. She pulled out the chair next to Ariana and slid into it, fluid and silent in a tailored suit. Ariana wondered how she hadn't heard the woman walking up, but noticed when Miyamoto crossed her legs that she wore soft-soled boots. Fashion around the Rocket Corp. offices was constantly changing, but even the budget-conscious, lab-coated Ariana had to admit the styles were consistently appealing. She tried her best to keep up.

"Is this the project report the boss requested?" Miyamoto asked. Suspicious, Ariana searched Miyamoto's face trying to glean her motivation. Miyamoto registered the woman's hesitation and smirked. "I would hope it is, at least, since she gave you a direct assignment and an imminent deadline."

The red-haired woman looked back at the computer screens. She reopened the program windows she had been working in and shook her head. Gesturing to the garbled charts and numbers, Ariana conveyed her hopelessness.

"Here."

Miyamoto leaned into the screens to read the information. With her own scientific background according to the color-coding on the woman's dangling employee credentials, Ariana assumed Miyamoto could pick out alphanumeric designations in sequences, converging sine waves, and other standard equations, but she would have no basis for their significance in this project's context.

"We made an incredible breakthrough…. But it was all in petri dishes. And now those are toast." Ariana drummed her fingers on the keyboard, light enough not to type but heavy enough to rattle the key switches.

"A breakthrough in what, exactly?"

Ariana felt cagey again. Having run her own research projects at Rocket Labs, maybe Miyamoto felt a pang of solidarity? This was a place where innovation moved quickly, sometimes right out of the hands of the innovator. Reading empathy in her half-smirk, and truly without other options, Ariana opened up.

"Gene splicing." She waited for a reaction, but Miyamoto's expression didn't change, so she continued. "We were combining genetic material from humans and comparably-genetically-complex Pokémon." Ariana paused again, expecting some kind of response. Excitement...or at least horror. Miyamoto's poker face disappointed her.

"Well I'm definitely not getting that from your slides… Have you had any viable results?" Miyamoto squinted at the computer screens again.

"Some, yes, in those petri dishes." Grabbing the mouse, Ariana clicked forward a few slides to show a tessellation of graphs and keys. "I tried to show here how expression of post-splice characteristics manifested phenotypically in-"

"Are you showing this to Madame Boss?" Miyamoto cut in.

Ariana looked up into Miyamoto's face. "Y-yes, that's the plan." She felt suddenly, deeply inadequate.

The woman in the suit sat back in the computer chair, crossing her arms, and sighed. She looked deep in thought for several moments, her brow furrowed, her eyes darting over invisible equations and outputs. Watching her think, it occurred to Ariana that instead of being defensive about her work, she should perhaps appreciate the individual attention this woman decided to give her project. Miyamoto's closeness to Madame Boss was no secret; the boss was rarely seen on-site at the Mt. Moon base without her executive assistant at her side. If anyone could help Ariana persuade the boss to keep funding this project, it would be the woman who knew both her preferences and her budgets.

Miyamoto brought a hand to her chin and leaned forward, olive-green eyes flicking over the data sets. "And the method works? You can do it again?"

"Excuse me?"

"Our Madame Boss is not a scientist," Miyamoto said. "She is brilliant, for sure, but this-" She waved a hand at the numbers on-screen. "-isn't in her language. Your best bet is to show her."

"Show her?"

"Show your work. Show her what you can do."

"But…I told you...all our samples were burned. We have nothing to show right now."

Miyamoto gave Ariana a hard look.

"Then do it over again. If your experiment is valid, it's repeatable." Her eyes searched Ariana's face. "Can you do it again?"

"I- I can, if I can get my hands on the materials. But the timeline- It would take days… Volunteer subjects… And budget…"

"If you can do this…what's your name?"

"Ariana, from University of Fuschia." Ariana put out her hand for a handshake.

Miyamoto placed a cool, pale hand atop Ariana's offer and gently pushed it down.

"If you can splice people and Pokémon together, Ariana, you'll never have to worry about a budget again." Likely this was reference to becoming personally rich, but Ariana's head suddenly swam with thoughts of expensive experiments, laboratory modifications, and computing upgrades. Miyamoto tapped her subordinate's hand once. "Don't be a coward like your professor."

"I need...Okay, I could get it done contingent upon ideal subject conditions. There's a potential window for success if-" Ariana trailed off as she sat up and looked around the laboratory floor.

The fume hoods were hopeless and several of the computer terminals were destroyed, as well as the housing for the library of genetic samples, but the most important equipment, including the nearly-finished fluid suspension chamber, was unharmed behind several layers of lab glass. Maybe Doctor Moro had thought that destroying his notes would be enough to halt the project, or maybe he just hadn't gotten around to it. Either way, the fluid chamber would need to be completed and the power calibrated. The computer adjacent also needed an upgrade to interface with the fluid chamber: to receive data, initiate the delta, and monitor the subject. On their original timeline, human subjects were a few sprints away. As such, the medical bay was sparsely equipped to provide aftercare. Ariana explained all this to Miyamoto.

Miyamoto shrugged. "Upkeep's a secondary concern. We need to run lean."

"Still…" Ariana was drumming on her keyboard again without typing, "I won't be able to request funds, inventory, or employee hours until after Madame Boss unflags the project in the system. I can't do all this by myself, I need more resources."

The tarp covering the laboratory's broken window flapped loudly in a sudden breeze. In the same moment, a silhouette darted the long length of the windowed wall, briefly casting a shadow across Ariana's upturned face.

Miyamoto, with her back to the window, didn't notice the flyby, but turned at the noise. Distracted, she took two steps closer to the glass and peered out.

As Miyamoto stood watching, Ariana got up out of her chair and joined her at the window. She followed her gaze down to the stone courtyard.

In the empty area below, a battle was raging between a uniformed worker and a young man in a suit. Details were difficult to make out from above, but a large cream-colored feline seemed to be getting the better of a bird with a bright red plume. Giovanni and his Persian were battling the Pidgeotto and its grunt trainer just for sport, it seemed, as the fighting wrapped up with a handshake and several cheerfully emphatic gestures by the loser. They recalled their Pokémon into its ball, gave a sharp salute, and walked off. Giovanni remained. He knelt down next to his Persian, patting and stroking its head, then carefully checked it over for wounds.

Ariana assumed that Miyamoto was arriving at the same conclusion Ariana had last night: the boss's son could be the ticket.

"Now, he's got resources…" she said.

The taller woman's head bobbed in a light nod and Ariana felt vindicated.

Ariana could not know, however, that Miyamoto was lost in contemplation of her own game, one where she played against Giovanni instead of with him. It was a game of millimeters: any overt strike against the family would forfeit her life. No matter how much favor she curried with Madame Boss, no matter how deep she buried her face into her, she could never compete with the son that came out of her. She had to lower his stock before her own could rise, and a bad investment by him could do that. So if she could get Giovanni to buy into the project… -They watched him bend all the way down, then stand up with his Persian looped about his shoulders and walk off- ...he'd be the one holding the receipts if it failed. But if Ariana's experiment worked, Miyamoto could snatch the credit for its success.

What Ariana did hear was Miyamoto saying, "There's a chance we might get him to sign off on the expenses."

Ariana recalled their interaction from last night. "...I probably shouldn't have yelled at him then."

"Mmm. There's a chance he liked it."

There was a beat of silence, then both women giggled.

Miyamoto stuck her hand out to Ariana this time. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Ariana. Please, call me Miyamoto." Her smile curled as Ariana firmly shook her hand.

"Miyamoto. Thank you for taking an interest in me and my project," Ariana replied stiffly, "I hope to be an asset to Rocket Corp."

"Yes, well, first things first," Miyamoto said, slipping her hand loose. "Let's clean up this pitch and book a meeting with the boss's son before he clears off for the day." With a light touch to the elbow, she steered Ariana back to the computer .