Fulcrum
Kaleesh. Mandalorian. Detective.
Lothal was far, far away from everything. Tucked away into the recesses of the Outer Rim, the planet held relatively few surprises for a seasoned traveler like Fulcrum-- and that was exactly how he liked it. It was quiet. Simple. The perfect place to lay low and get away.
That being said, Lothal did contain a handful of points of interest. One of them, located in the packed commercial district of Capital City, was Donnaro's Librarium. A staple of the city's culture, established over a thousand years ago, it was one of the few locations in the galaxy still willing to deal in physical books. Fulcrum had a preference for them; it wasn't like he never indulged in holonovels, of course, but there was an undeniable simplicity and ease of use to bound books that appealed to him.
No worrying about battery life. No potential to break a screen. No debates over licensing or rights management or a million other goddamn things he would never care about. Just the words and the pages, plain and simple.
It was the way his buir had liked to read, and he had passed that love onto his ad.
That was the reason Fulcrum found himself in Donnaro's Librarium today. Having already exhausted the last stack of paperbacks he borrowed from this place, it was time to find something new. As always, the Kaleesh gravitated towards the mystery and thriller section. Being 6'6" certainly had its perks, one of the main ones being that he could peruse the upper shelves with relative ease. Slowly, he moved from shelf to shelf, peering at the titles on every spine.
The Treasure of Sierra Tython. Midnight on Ord Mantell. Lothal Stone and the Mysterious Stranger. Each novel was scrutinized carefully, the summary on each jacket cover read over and over again until he was truly sure he would like this one. He couldn't afford to make a bad choice. It wasn't often that Fulcrum was able to stop here. Hell, the only reason he was here now was that he had just finished a search and rescue operation for a wealthy Lothal shipping magnate.
Missing ship. Missing daughter. Found safe, out of fuel in the ass end of nowhere, and towed back home to dad. An embarrassing state of affairs for the teenage runaway, but all had been forgotten the moment that the daughter and father had embraced.
A happy ending. He didn't see many of those in his line of work. They were more priceless than all the beskar in the galaxy.
Suddenly, the Mandalorian was stirred from his contemplation as something heavy and wet smacked against the back of his helmet. It crumpled and splattered upon impact, drenching his neck and shoulder in lukewarm, sticky juice. Fulcrum spun on his heel, dropping his books and instinctually reaching for the blaster pistol in his holster, only for his hand to seize.
Whoever had thrown the meiloorun at him was already fleeing around the corner; he could hear their hurriedly retreating footsteps, accompanied by the sound of their harsh whisper.
"Go home, mando!"
Then, they were gone, and the stifling stillness of the library air returned to normal. The tension in his body slowly dissipated, armored shoulders slackening slightly.
He wasn't surprised. Nor did he blame them. In the galaxy, word traveled fast, and the word was that the Mandalorian Enclave and the Galactic Alliance were gearing up for war. A sudden attack on Ryloth had soured the already low perception of Mandalorians across the galaxy. Even here, in the ass end of nowhere.
"... Osik," Fulcrum sighed. Slowly, he knelt down to the marble floor, beginning to gather his novels. Time to go check out... and let the poor library attendant know about the mess.
That being said, Lothal did contain a handful of points of interest. One of them, located in the packed commercial district of Capital City, was Donnaro's Librarium. A staple of the city's culture, established over a thousand years ago, it was one of the few locations in the galaxy still willing to deal in physical books. Fulcrum had a preference for them; it wasn't like he never indulged in holonovels, of course, but there was an undeniable simplicity and ease of use to bound books that appealed to him.
No worrying about battery life. No potential to break a screen. No debates over licensing or rights management or a million other goddamn things he would never care about. Just the words and the pages, plain and simple.
It was the way his buir had liked to read, and he had passed that love onto his ad.
That was the reason Fulcrum found himself in Donnaro's Librarium today. Having already exhausted the last stack of paperbacks he borrowed from this place, it was time to find something new. As always, the Kaleesh gravitated towards the mystery and thriller section. Being 6'6" certainly had its perks, one of the main ones being that he could peruse the upper shelves with relative ease. Slowly, he moved from shelf to shelf, peering at the titles on every spine.
The Treasure of Sierra Tython. Midnight on Ord Mantell. Lothal Stone and the Mysterious Stranger. Each novel was scrutinized carefully, the summary on each jacket cover read over and over again until he was truly sure he would like this one. He couldn't afford to make a bad choice. It wasn't often that Fulcrum was able to stop here. Hell, the only reason he was here now was that he had just finished a search and rescue operation for a wealthy Lothal shipping magnate.
Missing ship. Missing daughter. Found safe, out of fuel in the ass end of nowhere, and towed back home to dad. An embarrassing state of affairs for the teenage runaway, but all had been forgotten the moment that the daughter and father had embraced.
A happy ending. He didn't see many of those in his line of work. They were more priceless than all the beskar in the galaxy.
Suddenly, the Mandalorian was stirred from his contemplation as something heavy and wet smacked against the back of his helmet. It crumpled and splattered upon impact, drenching his neck and shoulder in lukewarm, sticky juice. Fulcrum spun on his heel, dropping his books and instinctually reaching for the blaster pistol in his holster, only for his hand to seize.
Whoever had thrown the meiloorun at him was already fleeing around the corner; he could hear their hurriedly retreating footsteps, accompanied by the sound of their harsh whisper.
"Go home, mando!"
Then, they were gone, and the stifling stillness of the library air returned to normal. The tension in his body slowly dissipated, armored shoulders slackening slightly.
He wasn't surprised. Nor did he blame them. In the galaxy, word traveled fast, and the word was that the Mandalorian Enclave and the Galactic Alliance were gearing up for war. A sudden attack on Ryloth had soured the already low perception of Mandalorians across the galaxy. Even here, in the ass end of nowhere.
"... Osik," Fulcrum sighed. Slowly, he knelt down to the marble floor, beginning to gather his novels. Time to go check out... and let the poor library attendant know about the mess.
