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Price of Progress

A shrill cacophony of alarms filled the cramped cockpit of the walker as it trudged towards the shore, the two occupants barely noting it as they stared longingly through the plexiglass to the shimmering sun and waves above them. The air was stale, tinged with smoke, as air filtration systems broke down from overuse. The crippled mech staggering and swaying, each step taking the two closer to the air above.

"Fuck, I can't believe I am going to die in this overpriced tincan, stuck in with your smelly ass for the authorities to find." cried the rabbit lass, glaring at the well dressed dog who was her companion.

"I think we're gonna make it, provided nothing else happens, we're getting there, steadily..." he whispered under his breath "I hope."

The two, Laura and Lukas, whad stolen the aquatic walker from a military supply ship. The plan was simple. Pilot it like a submarine over to a secluded cove, take it apart, ship out the parts bit by bit back home where their scientists could look it over. And of course, make boatloads of money and retire somewhere. Maybe even here, the sunny beaches had been quite appealing. At least before.

Now the floatation system broke down and the crash landing on the ocean floor knocked out the navigation beacon they were using. Half blind and forced to walk, the air supply that was supposed to have ample time was supposed to have ran out half an our ago. Trudging towards an unknown shore, desperate to just make it out.

The glimmering light wavered in their fading vision. It was hard to tell if it was even closer. Each plodding step swaying the cockpit as they gripped the command chairs. Each breath aching from the stale air, hoping each trudging step will finally break the water and bring them fresh air.

Finally with a splash the roof broke the water. Another step as both ignored the sight of a pristine beach before them and struggled to wrench open the rooftop hatches. A near fight as two sets of hands worked the release valve. A hiss and pop, and the hatch hydraulics lifted the armor plate up.

Air, fresh air! The two laughed and hugged eachother, while the mech staggered up the beach, step by step. Ignoring the shouts of surprise from a pack of native fishers they stumbled into.

"Oh shit! Where are we?" Laura cried, pulling herself out the hatch to look, as well as get more of that glorious morning sea air. Thankful to not find a marine squad awaiting them, but just a pack of otter fishers fleeing in surprise from the rampaging walker.

Lukas stopped the mech, staggering to a stop, still in the beach wave as he peered through the plexiglass at the fleeing natives. "I think we lucked out, should be one of the native reservations. With all the red tape they set up against the colonial powers, we should have time to get this thing fixed and rolling out before the army can arrive."

They laughed as they watched the natives flee. Lukas clambering out to look over the flotation bags along the sides. Streaming water still as he growled, "Laura, watch the shore to make sure no authorities arrive, and if any of those stupid otters try to fuck with us, end 'em."

Laura lounged on the scouting platform already, pistol out but grinning wildly in exaltation at seeing the sun and breathing air once more "OK, any one of them mess with us, and I'll plug em. That'll teach them to stick out of civilized matters" She laughed nervously and breathed deep.

The sun climbed slowly as the waves washed over the feet of the heavy walker. Most of the fisher folk babbled in that musical otter language, pointing and scorning the mechanical construct that upset their harvest. Any time one gave too much of a glare or obvious point, Laura waved the gun around and they shied off. "at least they know what a fucking gun is, so we don't have to teach them that gory lesson."

The crowd left, as Laura disparaged the nude or nearly nude state most of them were in, "what a bunch of savages, running around without a stitch on."

"I dunno, I wouldn't mind seeing you without anything on swimming on this beach"

"Yes, but would you want me traipsing about in the buff in public.... ... you know what, don't answer that, I already know how your perverted mind works, Lukas."

A young otter boy ran up to the shore, wearing simple trousers rather than the loin cloths or less the fishers wore. While behind him strolled someone of importance. Though dressed in a sarong, the multitude of decorations and his regal manner spoke of authority on the island

"I come to talk to the tresspassers who upset our beach," the boy exclaimed, to the laughter of the two rogues.

"So you're our negotiator? Did you bring gramps to help you out?" Lukas sneered, "I'll give you the answer already. We go when we fuckin' feel like it. And if you want to fuck with us we'll show you what these guns can do."

The boy nervously stood his ground as the two strangers waved their weapons at him. The older male with him showed no reaction, talking in that flowing language to the younger male.

The boy babbled back in shock as Laura and Lukas watched with scorn, "Look, we don't want you talking your mumbo jumbo that we can't understand. So we can stay here, or..."

The canine lifted the gun and fired a shot, several feet to the side of the boy who jumped back behind the older figure. The two rogues laughing again, "No go the fuck away and let us work!"

The otter authority nodded his head solemly, then turned and shouted something back to their village. Holding the boy close as they walked purposefully back.

The two never saw the camoflauged machine gun nest, just up a hill and hidden in heavy foliage. Their first warning a resounding blast and metal fragments flying up their walker's legs, the heavy rounds digging gouges through the armor. The gun tracked with skill, ripping into their unprotected flesh before they could think to leap free.

Oil spilled free as the rounds tore through the armor of their walker, the heavy machine gun tearing through the vitals of vehicle and person alike. With a loud crash the walker's gyro was shout out, and crashed into the shore with a resounding splash. Blood and oil mingling from the wreckage..

The otter chieftan looked over this wreckage sadly, "That's what happens to those who disrespect our authority. Wave a gun around, expect to be shot. We can't tell if they were scouts looking for our encampment, or just some stupid thieves. I only hope the sound of our attack didn't carry to far, we aren't supposed to be known yet. Men! I need you to drag out that stupid overpriced tin can they came in here on, we need to strip it down before someone overflies and sees it. And clean up that gun camoflauge again, we need protection if an attack does raid us before we can liberate the rest of these islands."

The rebel leader looked mournfully at the half concealed wreckage on the once pristine shore. The first of many deaths he will have to order. But such is the price of progress.