View character profile for: Shasma Jhuruk al-Jhuruk
A wide spiral staircase with a dragon banister carried Jhuruk and his quartermaster to the captain's quarters. The room was dark and musty, and needless clutter crowded its circular sweep. Jhuruk stopped to pick up a fallen grandfather clock and banged his head on the corner of a desk as he rose. "Mahmoud did not use his quarters?" he asked, righting his turban.
"He is from a planet on the far western rim of your Seventh Sultanate. Apparently in those regions, it is customary to sleep... and do your business on the bridge."
"What 'business' is that?"
"It is also common in those regions for a noble to take concubines, Captain. He has taken many."
Jhuruk sighed. He was glad now that he had not sat on the Captain's Throne... it would need to be washed first. "Alright. Well I am not from the Far West. I am desert-born, and therefore revel in solitude. Have my quarters cleaned at once, and bring all these things but my bed and my desk to the Grand Bazaar, to be sold." He paused, watching Hammab signal to his servants without the chamber. "And Hammab."
"Please sell them at half price."
Hammab smiled. "Yes, Shasma."