Kos was the muscle. It was his thing. So when he stepped forward, people stepped aside to let him pass. If they didn't, he ignored them, and shoulders past them. If they didn't like it, he couldn't give a damn. He wasn't concerned with their likes or dislikes. He cleared the way for the captain, and she followed in the people vacuum that he had made. The tables was reasonable, despite the whole place looking like it hadn't felt the smell of soap in a century. It was seedy kind of place where people like them could get a bite to eat without being noticed. There were millions of people like them, although not as good, and they would disappear. It was a nice feeling, Kos thought as he settled in. He ordered something alcoholic and strong, a combination that he was well used to, and a plate of grub that didn't look like it had come out of something's rear end, and relaxed.<br/><br/>And... a fight broke out. Kos scowled, wondering if he would be needed to step in and bonk the two fight's skulls together to knock some sense around. aqll men had sense. But they misplaced it inside their head occasionally, and a good, well placed bump would put things back in perspective. Kos wasn't overly tall, but he was powerfully built, and a tenacious and dirty fighter, no low blow being too low for him to try. Miners and scavengers only took advantage of principled people that adhered to rules.<br/><br/>"If it gets too close," He whispered to Cal," Imma brek sem skulls if yer likes, Cap'tn..."