Having realised the mounting pile of bodies might soon transform them into flat fish, she had no objections to seeking some shelter. The cave they found may not have been homely, but any port in a storm. As the golden fish rid himself of his trenchcoat, she wondered if she might be able to do an analysis of the substance that was now befouling it, but there was a time and a plaice for everything. Noticing the combination of purple tuxedo and white shirt with black bowtie he wore beneath his trench coat, she realised her initial guess was correct- he was no small fry, but he wasn't a fishy character either. He was an agent, not unlike herself.. though possibly of a different agensea. With the ever-shifting currents of power causing frequent changes of poliseas, those in power could be chumming together one day and getting their hooks into each other the next. However, that wasn't a line of thought she wanted to follow... besides if you followed the offishal line on everything you'd never get anything done. Her attention was caught by his line of questioning, weighing every word and considering carefully, she gave him her answer.

"If you did have things under control I apologise," she informed him, "but the scale of the problem seemed bigger than that. As for my turning up conveniently- well I don't want to debait with you, but I came following a salmons from my overheads to investigate. As for who I am- I'm Cera Dipnoir, sepcial ensign with the agensea... and, I've an ocean our crossing paths like this may not be coincidence".