Despite the lateness in the season, the tropical Hoenn climate boasted beautiful weather, perfect for outdoor activities Nikita normally associated with spring or summer. Adorned in a fashionable white blouse, shorts, and wide-brimmed hat, she sat at a long table piled high with decadence. Expensive charcuterie, boards of cheese, scrumptious desserts, freshly baked bread with rosemary butter, luxurious hors d'oeuvres with caviar and truffles — everything one could imagine at a picnic hosted by the esteemed CEO of Wells Prosthetics & Technology.[break][break]

Following her family's death and the assumption of her role as CEO, Nikita set herself to work. She appointed a new President, moved international operations to the headquarters at Mauville City, and attended an endless parade of meetings to catch herself up to the goings-on of the company at large.[break][break]

She had also formalized her business contract with Team Rocket as Nikita Wells, not Astrid Thorn, but only a very small, very secret group of people knew that. And Nikita hoped it would stay that way.[break][break]

The picnic itself was a memorial event for her parents and brother. All families connected to hers, all business partners, and all the elite within Hoenn were invited. Earlier during her speech, Nikita had donated a sizable sum of money to efforts aiding the victims of the attacks in Galar. She hoped taking such action would encourage her guests to do the same.[break][break]

But the time of speeches had passed, leaving the young host to enjoy the catered lunch service. Seated at her table were several high-ranking members of WPT's management. At least three bars around the rented field served all manner of top shelf alcohol. Nikita herself sipped a vodka tonic.[break][break]

Occasionally, a guest would come up to her table and chat briefly, expressing condolences for her loss or flattering her with empty comments about the decorations or the food. During a break in such visits, however, Nikita spied a woman among the attendees she had never met before. A quick consultation with her President confirmed it was Summer Atreides, CEO of Prescott Industries.[break][break]

Excusing herself from the table, Nikita approached the other woman, drink in hand. "Miss Prescott, is it?" she asked, extending her free hand for a shake.

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