"Sergeant Sekula I presume? My name is Antares...Thanner Antares."

Thanner extended his hand, as the Sergeant wheeled around to address the room. He couldn't help but laugh, as he has just employed the same social tactic against the gesturing soldier only moments earlier. It was typical posturing. Sekula turned to face him once more, this time acknowledging the agent's offer and shaking his hand, albeit briefly.

"How can I help you?" asked the Sergeant. 

He heard the question clearly, but deliberately paused for a moment as he took notice of the scar on Sekula's hand. He knew he would be able to use it to his advantage, at the proper moment. 

"I'm not sure you can help me Sergeant," said Thanner, choosing each word very carefully, "A former Imperial in the midst of this rabble, whatever is a man to do." 

The skeptical undertone in Thanner's statement was quite deliberate. In truth, he was confident in Sekula's ability as a leader, which was far more than he could say for Lieutenant Byron, and he was intent on winning the Sergeant over as an ally by challenging her in this way. She was a woman that had thrived in a man's world, a feat that required true strength of character. He admired her resolve greatly and knew she would be a valuable asset to him during his time in the regiment. 

Thanner took Sekula's injured hand gently, running his thumb across her scarred knuckles in a a shrewd and calculated way, flashing a smile as he did so. 

"I'm sure there must be a story to go along with it?" Thanner said quietly, "You certainly seem like a woman with a few tales to tell."