Something that's important to me about the relationship between Melshi and Kino is that they're both exercising the tiny amount of free will left to them to try to help others in a system that maximally constrains their ability to care for each other.
For the Melshi we first see in Narkina, a big part of staying free happens in the mind - in learning and communicating the truth, in refusing to take comfort in illusions and instead naming the dehumanizing operations of the system. By offering to Keef/Cassian the narrative of power he's developed ("never look at the numbers"), he's trying to give Cassian a way to hold onto the relative autonomy of clear, uncompromising thinking: they can keep us here as long as they want, but we don't have to believe their lies. By the time we meet him, Melshi already seems very familiar with Kino's reaction to his brand of shop talk (so familiar that I suspect Kino is not the first authority figure who's found Melshi profoundly irritating), and when Kino throws him against the wall, Melshi doesn't resist or fight back, but he does look Kino in the eye. He knows why Kino needs to do this, and as his little rueful shrug to Cassian suggests later, he's easier on Kino's need for self-delusion and displaced frustration than he is on the guards' willful misrepresentations and casual cruelty.
For Kino, moving people toward freedom is a question of organization, discipline, and management. He runs a tight ship because he's trying to get his guys the best deal he can, and he encourages them all to throw their weight into the work they're assigned because he thinks that's the best chance to get his floor through their sentences as efficiently as possible. That goal makes Melshi into a troublemaker (as his remarks threaten to undercut people's faith that good behavior matters), and Kino seems to be in the habit of throwing Melshi around to manage the expression of discontent and muttering on the floor. But of course the bigger threat Melshi poses is to Kino's faith in the system itself, and thus his belief that by maintaining order he's protecting his men - from more frying or from railing it in despair (thus his much more out-of-control response to Melshi's "they set them all free" after a whole floor's been killed for no discernible reason). Kino wants to get out himself, yes, but he also wants to get his guys out, and that's why it's Ulaf's death and the doctor's confession that provides the final push in his radicalization: he has to admit that he's been enforcing the rules of a bad-faith system, and the way he's been trying to get his men home was never going to work.
This is very compelling to me because the progression of the Narkina arc reveals that the structure of antagonism in which we first find Melshi and Kino (with Melshi needing to speak out to feel internally free and Kino needing to keep his men aligned around a shared purpose to feel that he's fulfilling his external responsibilities) is in crucial ways environmental: it's a manifestation of the forced competition and hierarchy imposed by the distribution of power in the prison. Once Kino accepts that he needs a new set of tactics to liberate the floor, and once Melshi steps up to fight for what he likely on some level still thinks is a dream, any lingering animus is quickly set aside for cooperation. Melshi is the one to throw Kino a wrench, and Kino is the one to hand Melshi a blaster. Their different methods and theories of power put them in conflict while they were still operating within a system that tried to foreclose any development of solidarity; but they share an impulse toward freedom and care for others, and Andor suggests that's finally stronger than their personal differences.
I do think if they'd met outside of Narkina, Kino would still find Melshi annoying though.
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