One Last Supernova

[Rabid Parrots]

Dixon kicks in the door of a large building. The sign outside reads "Mall*Mart Space Center". He grabs two shopping carts and makes his way to the tobacco section. He fills one buggy with cartons of cigarettes and the other with several gallons of whiskey, various firearms, and five dozen donuts.

On his way to checkout, something catches his eye. It was a personal jetpack. He tosses it into his cart and lights eight cigarettes. The cashier was a young, blond girl. "Sir, you can't smoke in here." Dixon leans in close and lifts his sunglasses, "And what are you going to do about it?" She goes silent and continues ringing up his goods.

Dixon kicks the door open and makes his way back to the ship. He rolls the buggies into a room filled with shopping carts from various stores and sets course for Old New Staten Island.

[No one in particular]

Old New Staten Island, Dixon stared at the black smoke stacks belching their industrial waste in the horizon. "damn pollution will kill you." Dixon thought to himself as he lit up four more cigarettes.

Space traffic control crackled over the communications "Hull ID recognized, welcome Dixon Ford. The 20,000 credit docking fee has been auto deducted from your account. Proceed to bay number 307.". Dixon swallowed his cigarettes as his holo viewer refreshed his bank account information.

The cruiser ramp lowered and opened, out from the billowing smoke stepped Dixon Ford. As he lit two cigarettes and walked down the ramp he exclaimed "Dixon Ford, Private Investigator" to no one. He had a moment of deja vu but quickly brushed it off.

He had a target to take down, and he knew exactly where he needed to go first.

[Uncle Ben]

At the Old New Staten Island abondoned quansa juice factory, Ford met up with a couple of guys from a local biker gang, "The Cracked Pistons." Ford is a little surprised when the guys turn up in a car. "Nice bike", Dixon says to Earlobe, "it seems to be a bit high on wheels though." "Yeah yeah," Earlobe says, "what do ya want, Ford?" "I want to retire in B12 with a nice Qualtamore as my wife, and a free lifetime supply of whiskey and cigarettes", Ford says. Earlobe gets out of the car.

"You think you're tough! Don't you!" he shouts at Ford. "Right now you're messing with Earlobe from Old New Staten Island though!" he continues. "You think you can take me on? huh? TOUGH GUY? COME ON! LET'S DO SOMETHING DIX!" Dixon throws a single punch and Earlobe is out cold. He lights five cigarettes. Then he walks to the car window, and says to the other three bikers: "Guys, show me what's in the trunk." A bearded biker gets out of the second front seat, and opens the trunk. He doesn't talk, he merely points pretentiously at the load of guns found there. Ford takes one of the guns from the trunk, and recognises the logo. These guns are from the Old New Staten Island Short Fuse Gun Factory.

"I've seen enough," Ford says, "take me to your leader: Toothless Tom."

When Earlobe comes to, he can do nothing but witness his car disappearing in the distance with Dixon and the other bikers in it.

[Rabid Parrots]

They arrive at an old, abandoned warehouse. The thugs pat Dixon down and then return the eighteen cartons of cigarettes that they removed from his trenchcoat. Dixon clears his throat conspicuously and one of the thugs hands him another carton. "Thank you." remarks Dixon. They enter the warehouse. It is filled with hundreds of wooden crates labeled "Teddy Bears". A slender man in a tuxedo walks out of the shadows. He grins ear to ear, flashing two sets of razor sharp teeth like a shark. "Dixon Ford, what brings you to my humble abode?" "I need some information, Tom." replies Dixon who then lights six cigarettes. "Information is expensive." says Toothless Tom. Dixon reaches deep into his mouth and pulls out a burlap money bag. It drips bile all over the floor. He tosses it across the room and Tom picks it up. It's filled with dental floss. "Ah yes, Colbate Powerfulglide. The good stuff." says Tom. He proceeds to remove a strand and examine it with a microscope. "Who are you after this time, Dix?"

"Tommy The Beard." replies Dixon. Tom laughs hysterically. "That scrub? I guess he's finally made it to the big time if he's got you on his tail." "Nobody can figure out how he's robbing all of these banks and making a clean getaway every time." says Dixon. "That might have something to do with the cloaking device that he stole from me. We've been looking for him aswell. Last I heard, he was recruiting for a job in the B20's." "The 20's? How does he expect to pull a heist so close to Freedom Corp Central Command?" "You don't get it, Dix. The job is at Freedom Corp Central Command." Three cigarettes fall out of Dixon's mouth.

[No one in particular]

Freedom Corp Central Command, the most secure facility in the B20's. This must be a joke muttered Dixon as he grabbed 4 more cigarettes with his shaking hand. "No no Dixon, this is no joke" Toothless Tom replied as he examined the Colbate shipment. "what does Freedom Corp Central have that Tommy could want, the place is nothing more than a bureaucrats dream" whispered Dixon through his mouthful of cigarettes. "This is exactly what makes it so appealing Dixon, every criminal who's worth their weight in space salt has their entire criminal history recorded and archived in the Freedom Corp halls. Tommy must want something there, perhaps he wants to wipe his own slate clean. Or better yet, maybe he was hired by a someone to retrieve something.".

Dixon's blood went cold. Freedom Corp had toppled every known major crime syndicate in the universe, whatever powers are at work here is something above and beyond Dixon and his pay grade. He knew exactly who could help him get the bottom of this, he had to find Jimmy the Whisperer.