Right now, it's very difficult for Feather Wind to adjust to this constant shock of “Encountering Something Not Even Similar To What He Has Experienced Before”. What gets to him even more is the fact he seems to be the only one to notice this.
In the Doctor's case, that makes sense. This isn't new to him or, at least, he has experienced something like this before. As a result, he can stride into a new environment like this underwater base and still seem so casual about it.
This makes sense to the natives too. To them, what they are surrounded by has always been that way for them. This is their world so there's no reason to treat it as beyond the ordinary. It's everything else out in the universe that might catch them off guard.
But looking back at his other companions like Stern Wing, Vision, and Derpy, it feels strange to him that they are not in as much awe about what they are encountering as he is. Does this mean they are failing to grasp the situation as deeply as he? Or maybe it just means their focus lies elsewhere for the moment.
Derpy and Stern Wing, for example, both seem on edge, but they are reacting to it in vastly different ways. Out of all of the TARDIS's companions, Derpy seems to be closest to being charmed by what she sees. She seems to at least occasionally look at something and appear to think, “Oh, this is neat!” But she senses tension in the air, too, and that is causing her to be very worried. However, unlike Stern Wing, Derpy isn't facing that fear with much confidence despite being a companion of the Doctor longer. It's like it lingers in her mind, “We're in danger and we might fail the challenge we are about to face. It isn't necessarily going to be the worst-case scenario. In fact, with the Doctor, avoiding the worst case is rather likely. However, I still worry about how good it will turn out. Tainted victory is a rather likely option. Like I'll probably survive along with a bunch of the natives too, but will they all survive? And what about those of us especially fragile like Vision here?”
For Stern Wing, she actually is very deeply ingrained in her element down here. It isn't necessarily “fun” for her to be in danger, but moments like that she regards as important. Because of that, she remains on high alert. Probably even more than usual. For her, there is this determination and unwavering confidence that the worst-case scenario can most definitely be avoided but it will be because of dedication and hard work. Because of that ultra-serious mode, she's not casually looking around at her environment thinking, “Ooo! That's pretty.”
No.
Rather than that, she's scanning for good ambush spots for her friends or any potential enemy. She's keeping herself aware and alert that there might be a trap around every corner. She's looking at the rivers of lava that they are passing and considering how it could be used in a tactical battle rather than a means of ore refinement as it is actually intended for.
Vision is even harder for Feather to explain. Perhaps because he doesn't know her as well? But the young foal seems to strut about as if slightly in a daze and yet there is an unusual level of confidence in her that doesn't seem at all normal for a foal her age. She's behaving like she's aware that she's a character in a story and that that story will play out however it's meant to. It's like she's surrendering to it and trusts that process. She probably isn't an all-knowing figure even if she does, perhaps, know more than usual. Rather than that, her self-confidence might stem from her perspective and attitude in how she regards the unknown.
Vision is visually blind and that fact is very clear to all that observe her. She would have made many more mistakes had she not been so carefully guided. Derpy, at the very least, keeps a wing wrapped protectively around the young foal not only to protect the filly but to also guide her. Even with that, Vision still stumbles into Derpy sometimes or has jerked in a direction that would have led the wrong way, but that wing kept on guiding her steps.
All of that makes sense, but why isn't she more emotionally bothered by what they are going through? That is something Feather can't put his hoof on yet.
As for himself, Feather is soaking everything in. For him, it isn't just about the awareness of the danger, it's about everything else too. The awareness of the vast dark ocean that exists beyond metal or glass walls. Out there is an incredible amount of pressure and coldness, yet there is beauty in it too that he'd have a hard time explaining to others. It's also rich in history. That environment out there used to be empty air. Wind used to pass through this valley that everypony breathed in.
As for the more local environment, there is a very stale and artificial quality to it. It also seems old and perhaps dangerously close to needing critical maintenance. There is the sight of rusty walls and the near-constant sound of dripping in the distance. Up on the surface, the cause of such dripping could have been excused as merely the weather, but down here it has a more ominous quality to it. It suggests a leak that might get far more severe if it is ignored for too long.
For all that, the technology around them also appears pretty stable, and for good reason. More than once they felt minor earthquakes down here and that is because this section of the drowned city has an active volcano in the middle of it. Geologically, it provides a strong hint why this valley may have sunken at one time, but he's been told the exact opposite. That this valley is, if anything, rising, but it can't keep up with the higher ocean levels of the warmer periods of the planet just yet. Someday it might break to the surface even when the planet is as flooded as it can possibly get, but that day has not come yet.
In the meantime, some of the lava has been channeled down here in really tough metal tubes and collected in giant bowls. Any fire, if hot enough, can melt things like steel, but the ponies here are channeling something that the environment naturally provided for them so they don't have to try as hard to produce it artificially. Maybe that lack of necessity is also why they don't know how to make a fire that hot artificially. They are just working with what they got and not innovating much beyond that point. It's like a pony living from paycheck to paycheck. It's just enough to survive and nothing extra.
As for the ponies themselves, Feather Wind isn't observing a vast population down here. Considering the large amount of space they've been trotting through ever since they arrived, the pony population is noticeably rather sparse. They have accomplished a lot while down here, but there are also multiple signs that indicate that what they have accomplished stretches across a vast amount of time. Because the personnel they are working with is so little, the grand work that they have accomplished can only be explained as a multi-generational project. That also explains why many things are in poor maintenance. They just don't have much pony power to spare keeping everything they have in tip-top shape. Instead of that, they are digging ever deeper into the earth for more ore or scrapping out the corpse of the sunken city around them. They are doing this through many kinds of underwater subs and smaller, almost pony-shaped vehicles which have extra appendages for either digging, drilling or grabbing.
In the contextually rather rare instance when they do pass another pony, the general attitude that Feather has observed is a mix of surprised curiosity and guarded for some reason. They kind of react like they have a secret to hide, or perhaps are concerned that the newcomers may cause them harm. In any case, it is not opening and welcoming expressions they are passing to the group, although their attention lingers stronger and sharper at either Feather or Stern in particular. That isn't just his horn or Stern's wings that make them standout. Feather Wind's natural hide color as well as his mystical Mist Cloak has also drawn their attention because the cloak looks like actual clouds consolidated into the shape of the cloak. It spills mist from it and sometimes flashes with tiny amounts of lightning.
It took Feather a while to notice there is another reaction among the natives, and it is particularly common among the younger ones. Beyond just regarding the newcomers in fear and awe like the others, there is also a sense of hope in a few of them as if regarding the newcomers as potential saviors from . . . something.
All of this tells Feather that, whatever is wrong down here, everypony that lives here is in the know about it. No pony, not even their youngest foals, is reacting like they are ignorant of some potential danger. Rather than that, there is a sadness and weariness to them all. They are miserable and they seem concerned that things might get worse, but a change is a change. That can include the possibility of a change for the better, but the adults lived with despair for so long that it felt pointless to hold on to hope for this long.
Feather Wind also noted how some of the natives glanced at their escorts as if to suggest the others would have been more forthcoming about what was going on if not for the company they are keeping. Being as alert as she is, Stern Wing probably noticed that too. Naturally the Doctor is as well because he's used to being observant. Vision probably also detected it but on a psychic level instead.
It takes Feather a moment to realize that, of this group, that only leaves Derpy remaining who is likely ignorant of the hidden glances of the natives. It fits her character, too, based on what Feather has observed from her. Recent trends may have trained her to be more alert than usual, but her walleyes put a natural hindrance on her anyway as well as an adorably ditsy personality that usually results in her being happily oblivious. As he understands it, she comes from a time when Equestria has been in peace, for the most part, for a thousand years. Even when the occasional crisis shows up, some other heroine swoops in and saves the day. That leaves the day-to-day living of the mail pony happily serving her community as best she can. She didn't have to worry about big-picture stuff until she started traveling with the Doctor regularly. Even then, that seems relatively recent for her based on the way she's acting.
It may be that she'd have a hard time describing exactly how long she's been with the Doctor because they keep time hopping for as long as she's been with him. Time starts to lose all meaning when that pattern continues often enough. In thinking of that, Feather Wind can project a prediction for himself as well. Someday he'll be like that too if he remains with the Doctor.
“This is it,” Vision suddenly announces while they are crossing through a glass tunnel which provides a clear visual inspection of the dark ocean around them as well as occasional oceanic vehicles traveling within it with headlights of some sort. “This is the glass tube that shattered at the end of my last prophetic dream.”
The Doctor activates his sonic screwdriver to send a sonic pulse within the tunnel to the one he privately wishes to communicate to. To that individual pony, he sounds loud like he's speaking through a metal tube, yet everypony else around them can't hear a thing.
“How close are we getting to the source of the psionic disturbance?” the Doctor surreptitiously questions Vision in concern. “Also, how well are you?”
There are multiple reasons for the Doctor's concern. Vision was raised as a very sheltered foal in the temple she came from. She was kind of a religious icon there, but more so was her mother. Her mother was the unicorn who was the public face to deliver the warnings that her daughter gave her. Their culture knew that Vision was the actual source of those forewarnings, but most other cultures didn't know that. They thought the psychic visions were coming from the mother directly.
In any case, Vision isn't used to this much physical stress. They already traveled quite the distance down here in Allon and, of all of them, Vision is clearly the most winded by it.
But aside from that, they are marching steadily towards what essentially is a psychic bomb. If that bomb goes off, all the local animal life down here in this ocean, which includes some very formidable kinds, is going to go berserk and target the source that caused their rage. The Doctor knows he needs to disarm it before that happens and it is the main reason he's in a rush right now.
But to find it, his best resource is also his most fragile one. The closer they get to the bomb, the more it'll likely exude psychic pressure on the one pony here who is most sensitive to it, so that is a catch twenty-two. A lot of creatures he has encountered heavily underestimate how dangerous a psychic attack can be. It can lead to many hostile side effects which include being fatal. There can be even worse fates than that as well.
“I'm fine,” Vision assures with as much confidence as she can muster, but the Doctor does notice her grimacing a bit.
“Also,” Vision adds after a moment. “beware, Doctor. This is the location where our escorts will choose to ambush us.”
As soon as Vision said that, to him at least, the steel metal doors they crossed to get into this glass tunnel in the first place shuts on them then locks. The one ahead of them isn't open either.
The Doctor groans in frustration before whirling about and regards their escorts wearily as he complains while switching off and stowing away his sonic screwdriver, “Really? You're going to do this now? And you've been so helpful to us up to this point.”
The dark pony who led the escort team, which they since learned is named Foreman Chovix, presses a button on his end of the door to open an audible channel to speak with the Doctor and those now trapped with him. When Chovix does speak, there is an audible crackle to his voice which signifies some flaws in the tech he is using.
“You should have listened to me, Doctor,” Foreman Chovix says with a voice and expression heavy with regret. “I told you to return to the pod you came from for your benefit, too. Now you forced my hoof, and believe me . . . I take no pleasure from what I'm about to do.”
With that, he releases the button that opens the intercom from his end. He then glances at somepony to his left that the TARDIS crew cannot see then nods sadly to that pony. Seconds later, he regards them sadly again as water starts to flood the tube they are in. In particular, it rises from the floor through a metal grate and starts to flood the surface below the grate. Eventually it will rise enough to be above the grate.
“He's telling the truth, Doctor,” Vision quietly informs the Time Lord. “He doesn't want to do this.”
The Doctor turns his eyes, but not his head, to regard Vision for a silent moment as he contemplates the implications of the tip she just gave him then nods to her in appreciation for that. After a moment, he recalls the fact she can't see his visual nod so he says to her instead, “Thanks for the tip.”
“And why, for pony's sake, would they deliberately design a glass, underwater tunnel to be able to flood any victim within it?” Stern Wing asks in confusion.
“The means they are using to flood this tunnel is designed to drain water from here,” the Doctor answers immediately. “They have simply reversed the pressure in order to flood this tunnel instead.”
“Shall I use my barrier magic to block the flood?” Feather Wind offers somewhat casually. “If I do it now, it won't be that difficult to hold it.”
The Doctor thinks about that for a moment as he glances at Vision again, then shakes his head as he looks back through the small square and thick window on the large steel door which leads to the foreman beyond. The Doctor then says, “No . . . at least for now. I want to explore other options first.”
“How about I simply open one of the doors, then?” Feather counter offers as he looks back and forth between both of the doors that trap them in this tunnel. “They are not accustomed to unicorn magic, including basic telekinesis. I could spin the wheel locking the doors shut then simply open them.”
“No. Hold off on that as well,” the Doctor instructs. “Don't reveal any of our abilities yet when it might not be necessary to do so.”
“Um . . . Doctor, that water rising below is very, very cold,” Feather Wind warns grimly. “And Vision . . .” Feather trails off as he eyes the young filly in concern.
In response to that concern, Derpy lowers to her knees and bids Vision, “Honey, climb onto my back right now. Please.”
Vision does not hesitate. She immediately turns to her side and climbs onto Derpy's back. Once there, though, her balance is a little shaky as she searches for her equilibrium which is challenged again when Derpy rises.
“Hold tight to me,” Derpy bids after she rises. “Bite on to my mane if you have to. I won't let you fall.”
As if to make sure of that, the gray pegasus tucks her wings up a bit as if to create a minor wall on both sides of the young filly on her back.
“Thank you,” Vision whispers quietly to Derpy.
“Whatever you're going to do, Doctor, you'd better do it fast,” Stern Wing encourages as she eyes the rising water level below them in concern.
“You don't have to tell me twice,” the Doctor agrees as he trots his way to the door they passed a short while ago. When he arrives, he stands on the other side, gives a hard look to the foreman beyond the door before reaching and pressing the intercom button on the Doctor's side of the door without looking at it.
“First of all, I want to tell you that I believe you when you say you don't want to do this,” the Doctor begins to the foreman. “I don't even think you're doing this of your own free will necessarily. You know something of what's going on down here and, whatever it is, both you and your people regard it as unfortunate. I want to make it clear to you, even at this very moment, that we only came down here to help.”
The foreman shakes his head with regret on his side of the window then glances to his left for a moment, reaches for the button on his end, then looks back at the Doctor off to the right side of his face as he says, “You just don't understand the circumstances that you are meddling with and that I had to deal with before you got here. Believe me, the lot of you dying right here, right now, might be a more merciful fate compared to what we'll continue to go through.”
“I don't understand? Then explain it to me!” the Doctor emotionally encourages. “Don't just kill us off, especially when you know that it's wrong! If you explain your side of the argument well enough, I might even join you in your cause. Did you even consider that?”
Once again, the foreman shakes his head as he says, “Perhaps that could have been a viable option at one point except for one thing; you brought a unicorn down with you into the abyss, Doctor, and current circumstances make that particular scenario . . . complicated.”
“Then tell me this!” the Doctor demands as he pounds the thick metal door when he said the word “tell”. After that, he goes on to ask, “Are the unicorns directly responsible for your current crisis? Yes or no?”
The foreman knows the answer to that immediately, but he appears to pause a moment to contemplate if there is any point in telling the Doctor that or not.
“You're trying to kill us right now,” the Doctor presses when he sees that the foreman is on the edge of whether or not to tell the Doctor that information. “You owe us at least that much.”
“What good would telling you now do?” the foreman reflects. “You who are about to die.”
“Let's just say I don't like going to my grave without straight answers,” the Doctor responds. “Especially if those circumstances were responsible for causing my death and that of my friends. One of whom is a foal, by the way, just in case that isn't clear to you yet.”
The Doctor appears to have struck a nerve with the inclusion of that last fact. Chovix looks behind the Doctor at the foal in question. While he does so, the Doctor leans out of the way a bit just to ensure the foreman gets a good look at one of his victims.
Seconds later, the foreman looks at Feather Wind directly, shakes his head, then focuses back at the Doctor as he says, “No. The unicorns are not responsible for our current crisis. At least not directly. Those who are directly responsible have to sneak through the blockade high in the sky.”
“Really?” the Doctor checks. “That's great, then! That means those who put pressure on you are regarded as unwelcome by those they fear to have the power to stop them.” The Doctor shrugs. “So all I have to do is inform the unicorns about this little leak. Once they get that tip, they can put an end to those who pressure you for good.”
“Unfortunately, it's not that simple,” the foreman says sadly. “Because the services they provide are also needed. Without them, the situation we suffer from above will get so much worse.”
"Your civilization is dying right now!” the Doctor cries out with another angry pound. “What can possibly be worse than that?”
“Not much, I'll admit,” the foreman agrees. “In fact, that is the worst-case scenario here, but still . . . we have to solve the storm crisis somehow without blocking our crucial benefactors.”
“Benefactors?” the Doctor reflects. “So these guys are also paying you?” The Doctor lifts a hoof. “And let me guess . . . the payment that they demanded are the lives of the missing Alphalmians, correct?”
“You're unusually well informed, Doctor,” the foreman says as he narrows his eyes. “In this case, however, it's not too much of a mystery how you found out that particular fact.
“You know, I was content to allow Ashwin to merely complain as he has, but now he's involving strangers from who knows where. In doing so, he has graduated from a nuisance to a threat.”
“If you take out Ashwin, then believe me . . . you'd only be shooting yourselves in the hoof,” the Doctor firmly assures. “He's only trying to do what's right.”
“And you think I'm not?” Chovix reflects bitterly then shakes his head. “You think I'm the villain here? You who just arrived in our world then immediately claim you have the moral high ground?”
“What would the Alphalmians you kidnapped say?” the Doctor asks as he raises an eyebrow at the foreman.
“You have no right to judge or condemn us,” Chovix stubbornly insists. “You don't know what we've been through.”
“No right to judge or condemn you, you say?” the Doctor shoots back as he glances down at the water rising from below before looking back at the foreman and continuing. “Then come over here and try saying that to my face on this side of the window. Let's see how well you can justify yourself then.”
“This isn't about me!” the foreman argues as he finally pounds his side of the door. “It's about all of the pony kind in this world. We'll all perish if we don't hoofle this carefully.”
“Why?” the Doctor immediately asks in an almost demanding tone.
The foreman growls in frustration as he looks down for a moment then sharply snaps his gaze back at the Doctor as he asks, “You really want to know?”
“Yes,” the Doctor insists simply.
“Fine then!” the foreman agrees with another pound at the door. “We discovered a toxic gas in the wing of the most promising section of our ore mine,” he explains. “I lost a lot of good ponies down there and we had to collapse that section to avoid spreading the toxic gas.” He shakes his head. “On top of that, a lot of our machines we needed to salvage the rest of the city were breaking down. By then, we just lost access to the ore we could have used to refine and replace the broken parts we needed, so we were stuck both ways.
“But then, in our darkest hour, salvation unexpectedly came to us from the stars above. A race that came to us in these giant metal suits and not only claimed they had the means to help us, but they also proved it. But, in exchange, we had to do a favor for them. One I'd be unwilling to do under most circumstances, but they caught us in a particularly desperate moment.”
“Did they say the name of their race?” the Doctor checks with a softer voice and expression.
The foreman shakes his head as he says, “No, they didn't, so we just got used to calling them the Iron Suits.”
“Does your whole community down below know about this?” the Doctor probes further.
“Probably,” Chovix answers with a sigh of regret. “It's a small community down here, Doctor. Rumors fly fast. It's an even smaller community after I lost some of my best miners to the toxic gas.”
“How long ago did that occur?” asks the Doctor.
“Long enough to know for sure they could not have survived down there,” Chovix assures.
That answer causes the Doctor's expression to grow grim because that was part of the reason why he asked. After a while, he eventually asks, “Did it ever occur to you that the problems that caused you to so desperately embrace their offer was likely because they caused it in the first place?”
Chovix sighs and bumps his head on his end of the door once, then regards the Doctor solemnly as he admits, “To be honest, yes. That has occurred to me because their timing was unusually perfect. They came just after we had to collapse the most lucrative branch of our mine and while we desperately needed replacement parts for our other salvage machines. Without both, our entire operation here grinds to a halt. If we cannot produce any more ore by any means, then we have nothing to trade for supplies from other colonies.” The foreman shakes his head as he goes on to say, “Nevertheless, despite suspecting that they might have caused this whole affair, we were driven to a desperate corner at that point so we had to give in to their demands.”
“Perhaps, at the time, it might have seemed that way,” the Doctor partially concedes. “I still espouse that a clever enough mind can find an ideal solution through almost any problem, but I digress. Right now your options are more open than they used to be, but that's starting to change. You're about to kill the very ponies who can save you from this whole mess.”
“Sorry, Doctor. I truly am, but I cannot take that chance,” the foreman argues. “Too much is at stake here, and I don't believe that you'd be powerful enough to oppose what we're up against.”
“Tell that to the unusually persistent and aggressive weather on the surface,” the Doctor points out. “You don't seem to have a solution for that and neither do your new benefactors, but I do.”
The foreman looks surprised at that declaration then narrows one eye suspiciously as he says, “You're bluffing.”
“You're new benefactors haven't shown up ever since the storm didn't let up, have they?” the Doctor asks. “You think that is a coincidence? At the same time, you've been attacking the Alphalmian race. A race known to have some influence over the storms, and you just gave them the incentive to use it.
“DAMN it, man! Think this through! Use your brain for once,” the Doctor encourages. “You don't trust me and I get that, but can you trust the Iron Suits more than I? They provided conditional services during a highly suspicious moment. I, meanwhile, wasn't hiding in the shadows as they have. I even came with the support of one of the unicorns, a race that is known by your people to guard you against influences like this. I came to you all openly with open arms. Or . . . forelegs or what have you. Furthermore, one of your most trusted citizens vouched for me. Have you ever heard of Doctor Waston?”
“Of course I have,” Chovix answers softly. “He's the most educated and respected pony I know.”
“It is a pony like that which tried to assure the others that both my crew and I are on the up and up. I'll also bet you anything that Doctor Waston did not give the Iron Suits his thumbs up in approval. Hell, he probably doesn't even know about them entirely. You made sure of that, and so did the Iron Suits. That is because they know they are operating on this planet illegally so of course they would like to keep their operation here clandestine.” Upon seeing the foreman's immediate confusion with that last sentence, the Doctor clarifies, “They like to remain a secret.”
“Doctor, I don't mean to interrupt your conversation with our potential killer, but it's getting pretty darn cold back here!” Stern Wing complains in the background.
When Stern Wing said that, the Doctor turns his head halfway back to her but not enough to glance at her over his shoulder, then he shifts his eyes back to the foreman and asks, “You hear that? You're about to kill your saviors here. I came at you out in the open and I did it through official channels. I'm not hiding behind any iron suits but rather showing up with my open face. The only thing that I am asking you to do is to save us from destruction. In return, I'll do the same.”
“Why?” Chovix asks with suspicion. “I mean, besides wanting to be spared from being killed right now, what's in this for you ultimately?” He shakes his head. “You have nothing to gain by sparing us.”
“Au contraire, my young friend. There is much I stand to gain from this,” the Doctor assures. “But it isn't something that is going to cost you anything. I just like to explore and have fun with other sentient lifeforms such as yourself. That's more of a challenge for me if you're all dead. Believe me, chatting with corpses gets rather boring quickly.”
The Doctor pounds the door as he says, “Look, any way you look at it, the situation you're in isn't sustainable. The Iron Suits haven't shown up ever since the storm started. That either means they can't get to you or no longer wish to. Either way, that means they have abandoned you. In the meantime, I'm here and wanting to help and I've asked for nothing in return except for you to stop killing us and to allow me the honor and privilege to help you all.”
“And why would that be a privilege for you?” Chovix asks skeptically.
“Because I am the Doctor!” the Doctor declares dramatically. “Saving others is what I do. You can even say it's practically a byproduct of my cutie mark. A mark of my destiny.
“Now, with all of that being said, by all means, please be a smart old chap and STOP KILLING YOUR SAVIORS!”
Foreman Chovix just continues to stare at the Doctor while considering the situation very hard.
“PLEASE!” the Doctor begs desperately with another pound at the door.
Chovix casts a long sigh as he looks down and shakes his head, then looks back at the Doctor as he says, “Don't make me regret this, Doctor.”
“I can assure you I have no such motivation to do so at this time,” the Doctor promises.
With another reluctant sigh, Chovix looks over to someone to his left and nods to that pony once again. Shortly after that, the pressure pumping water into the glass tunnel pauses and then reverses its flow.