Stratos gives him a knowing glance. Jim may be from a very different world to his own- a gentler world, in most respects - but Stratos knows the captain is more ready than most to snap into action if things go awry. They'll look out for each other. If all that awaits them in here is some dubiously-legal rabble, they're more than ready.

That said, when the Imperial steps toward the door, something about him has subtly changed. He looks less like an unassuming citizen, more like a man to obey. Maybe it's the shift in posture and body language, but he seems a little taller, his presence more intimidating, the set of his face more intense. When he leads them into the crowded inn, the mostly Argonian patrons pull out of his way without him needing to push through much. They still have to be careful not to trip over any tails, and the cramped quarters are difficult to navigate as they look around for their target.

Jim really wasn't wrong in his assessment: it's much smokier in here than the other inn, and the air smells of marshwater and stale drink. Some of the patrons cast them sidelong glances, though it's too crowded for most to notice just who's slipping by. But the captain might catch something on the edge of his hearing: a woman's voice raised briefly above the hubbub. What she says he can't make out, but it doesn't sound like the rasp of an Argonian voice. It sounds like it's coming from off to the side of the room...