commandant | JAHAN SIDESTORY WIP FOR MAL

“You’re going to have to start tying your hair back if you let it get any longer, Nemik,” Bashir mused as he rested his head on the counter in the shop. Nemik sat in the middle of the floor, in the midst of going through a stack of boxes, taking inventory of the latest shipment. The late afternoon sun was pouring in through the windows, casting everything in a ruddy tint.

“Nn.” As usual, the younger man offered little response, continuing to check items off on the list as he unpacked them. He absently brushed some hair out of his face, before jerking upright at the sound of knocking at the door.

“Could you see who it is, Nemik? Haidar might’ve lost his key again,” even as Bashir asked, he was pushing himself up off the counter, grabbing his crutch. Nemik, being closer and more mobile, reached the door first, of course, and pulled it open.

The man on the other side was not someone he recognized, and he thus gave his usual brusque response; “We are closed.” He moved to shut the door again, but the man stuck his hand out to stop him.

“Wait, please! You’re Prince Nemik, aren’t you? I-I have a message for you!” The man nervously held out a letter.

Nemik’s gut instinct at hearing “prince” was to continue closing the door anyway, but he paused, and reluctantly took the letter. As he tore it open, Bashir hobbled up to stand beside him, and was handed the letter by Nemik. As soon as he saw the fancy script on the paper, he understood why. Languages were not Nemik’s strong point, and while he certainly could read something like this with a great deal of effort, it was far easier to have Bashir read it for him.

Bashir glanced over the text for a moment before lifting his head to the expectant gazes of Nemik and the messenger, and speaking aloud, “It says that the High Chancellor-your mother’s father- who had been serving interim while the king was absent has passed away. They’re asking for you to succeed him.”

Nemik’s response was a soft derisive snort, before turning away to return to his task. The messenger, seeming confused and concerned, piped up, “Ah, if the prince does not wish to rule, they will have to decide which noble family will take over the royal line…”

Bashir frowned, “I’ve seen the way those ones go at it. It’ll take months of petty bickering for them to determine who’s most suited for that. More importantly, I would have thought that Jaha-the king would have returned by now.”

“No sir, the only word we’ve received from King Jahan these past five years was an order to not search for him. Though if rumors are to be believed, he’s currently somewhere in the Vulcan region.”

Bashir raised an eyebrow, “I would have thought if he didn’t want to be found that he’d be traveling incognito.”

“With all due respect sir, I would think it would be rather hard to do so with a dragon in tow.” The messenger said with a slight bow of his head.

Bashir let out a short laugh, “he and that great lizard are as inseparable as ever, I should have guessed. Fair enough, we’ll go look for him.”

The messenger looked up in surprise, and Bashir didn’t need to turn his head to know that Nemik was fixing him with the same incredulous expression. “Do you think you can convince him to return, Sir Khalili?”

“If anyone could, I am certain it would be us. You can deliver the message that King Jahan will return soon, so there’s no need to start any blood feuds over the throne, alright?” Bashir smiled, handing the letter back to the man.

“O-Of course! I will do just that!” The messenger bowed again, before dashing off.

Bashir closed his eyes for a moment, before pulling the door shut, and turning to meet the sour face that he knew awaited him. “Don’t look at me like that, Nemik. I can’t rightly search for him on my own, and the Windfall crew isn’t due in port for another few weeks.”

“Take Haidar.”

“Can you manage the shop on your own?”

Bashir’s query was met with silence. Nemik was glaring silently down at a box as if it contained the source of his troubles. Bashir was not particularly surprised by Nemik’s negative response, but he had half hoped that the past few years had at least cooled his dislike for his father somewhat. “Fine. But not for his sake.”

“All I’m asking is for you to accompany me. If you’re willing then, we’ll leave in the morning. I figure we’ll give Prince Amir a visit, likely if your father is anywhere within his lands, he will have a vague idea where. Is that acceptable?” Bashir asked, knowing full well that Nemik would not argue with him.

Nemik nodded, before sullenly turning his attention back to the boxes.