Deadline

[00:06:33]

The sun begins to peek through the thick layer of clouds.
Light graces the industrial park on the surface, its large robust buildings casting shadows on the terraformed grass. Dew glistens on the rooftops, and so a new day begins.
On the ground, everything is fresh and calm, in the air...
A dot appears in the sun, two more come into view shortly after. Sonic booms awaken the planet, as does distant gunfire. A fight has been brought to this planet. 
Alarms go off in the cockpit of the VS-21 Anvil. The ship is still shaking from a hit it took before entering the atmosphere. Seatbelts hold the Runner tightly in place. He flicks switches as his eyes move over velocity and altitude readings. Sweat runs down his spine, adrenaline pumps through his veins. Plasma streaks shoot past in the corner of his eye, instinct moves his left hand to the right, rolling the ship.
He takes another hit, sending a massive quake throughout the hull.
“Son of a bitch!.” The Runner cries out as his fist turns off a second set of alarms.

[13:04:51]

The clear blue skies of the day had formed a gradient; deep shades of orange and red where the sun began to disappear behind the horizon, to an array of dark blues and blacks with tiny white dots forming constellations. The galaxy was clearly visible from this desert planet.
A light breeze picked up the loose sand and formed dunes not too far off a lone Axis outpost. 
It was a remote site, far from the mostly religious civilization, and fairly small.
As local authorities weren’t so keen on outsiders.
However, it was the perfect place for a team to wind down after a long day. 
Lights turned on, casting shadows on the landing pad. A single Hoplite proudly stood taller than the main building. Its fresh paint reflecting the stars above.
Cigarette smoke came from the top. Just above the cockpit, on the hull still warm from the long gone sun was the leader from the Axis team.
He had nailed a runner a few hours back. An amateur, flying some second hand piece of crap.
It was hardly a satisfying catch, and it was probably the reason he was smoking right now.
There was something troubling him. The bar, that runner.
All of it was of course his own stupid fault, having underestimated him. But there was something else. A difference between him and all the other Runners: 
He didn’t seem the type of man who would take this kind of job. Maybe it was the way he moved, casual yet with a perfect sense of balance and efficieny, along with that deadpan expression on his face and those confident, almost arrogant eyes.
As he inhaled some more sweet nicotine he realised the sky was now completely dark, the two moons about to take a prominent place in it. Footsteps came from the concrete below. 

[13:07:25]

“Play”
And so a song began. Slowly, chords began to fade in, supported by a light bass.
A relaxed orchestration that progressed slowly, evolving only to a fraction of its potential.
It kept moving that way for a few seconds, until powerful strings made their way through the headset. A steady build-up followed, five, six, seven, eight, breakdown.
A moment of silence, and then... Percussion powered in. A choir commenced, chanting an epic tale of life and death. The strings followed the lead as the bass began to change into something synthetic. The chorus was born.
Breakbeats began driving the composition forward as the first verse began. 
The Runner bobbed his head along with the drums, watching from behind the glass how the world became smaller and smaller. The elevator he stood in quickly made its way to the top of one of the smaller buildings in the industrial area. He was nearing his destination; a ship dock, near the top of one of the smaller skyscrapers in this city. Some 2000 meters above the surface.
The company that rented this level was relatively small and worked with a ‘no questions’ philosophy. An ideal place for those on the other side of the law.
And so the Runner would bring his ship here every month for repairs, a new ID, fresh paintjob and the occasional module.
A sharp beep rudely interrupted his music. 
 
[12:57:39]

Footsteps came from the concrete below.
His pointman probably, he made no attempt to find out.
The ladder leading to the top of the ship cracked under the weight of whoever came up.
“Good evening sir.”
‘Sir’ sighed as he was proven right. “Evenin’ lieutenant”
The LT. noticed the cigarette in his superior’s mouth as he sat down next to him.
“You know, not only is that bad for your health, it’s also illegal on this planet.”
“Old habits die hard, I suppose.” The tubular roll was tossed away, and landed in the cool sand surrounding the concrete. It would have to be cleaned up in a while.
It was silent for a moment. The LT. had no idea how to start a conversation with his chief.
Ever since he was transferred to this squad he knew his new commander was something else.
A hard headed but clever man, with an eye for action rather than talk. Not so keen on rules either.
“But that’s not why you’re here.”
“Heh, no not exactly. I was wondering...” the lieutenant tried to find a more comfortable position.
How his chief could just relax here, he could only guess.
“I was wondering about the bounty, are you sure it’s... enough?”
“Oh it’s enough...” The chief kept gazing at the stars, and began to miss his smoke 
“That runner already thinks we underestimate him, so now he gets cocky, and we grab him by 
  the balls.” A colourful explanation, but clear. And it completely fit the LT’s view of him.
The hull didn’t feel so hard now, maybe he got used to it. Or perhaps his arse was all numb now.
Dark clouds sailed, covering the stars above. The light breeze became stronger and the evening became a lot colder. It wouldn’t be long before the rain season would thunder in.
The chief sighed, like his cigarette, he would now lose his view as well.