Chapter Text
“Mister Swindle, for your crimes which have negatively affected the lives of the ponies you have scammed, how do you plead?”
In the castle’s main hall, the yellow-armored Cybertronian was surrounded on both sides by long rows of armored pegasi and angry ponies of various colors…some of whom he recognized, betrayal burning in their eyes.
The booming voice of their co-ruler, the Princess of the Moon, echoed off the vaulted ceilings. She glared at him with utmost fury. Her sister—the tall white one with her physics-defying, flowy rainbow mane—gave him a quieter, but no less devastating, look of disappointment.
He knelt there (not by choice) on the long red carpet that stretched from the royal thrones to the doors at the end of the hall. He considered transforming into jeep mode and high-tailing it out of there. He could probably get away with it… but he had a feeling it wouldn’t do him any good.
Not when even his own boss, Onslaught, was standing there as a witness to the case.
The big bot stood still, arms crossed. Not a shred of emotion betrayed his optics. He tapped his fingers on his forearm in a steady rhythm. A coded message in Morse.
-. --- / .-. ..- -. -. .. -. --.
No running.
Swindle understood. The boss wasn’t on the ponies’ side out of morality. He never was. He was doing this because it was the strategically sound thing to do. Damage control. Maintaining trust. Diplomatic positioning.
Swindle had no one to blame but himself. It was his own carelessness that got him tangled in these weak creatures’ mundane justice system. If he hadn’t been caught, none of this would’ve mattered.
In fact, had this been before the war ended, the situation would have been ridiculously laughable. The whole team could’ve destroyed those horses’ and humans’ societal infrastructure and forced them to cooperate with their cause.
But this ain’t the timeline they’re on. There are unbreakable rules now. Set by their Supreme Leader and Vector Sigma.
Deep in his logic circuits, he scrambled for an excuse. An exit. A foolproof con to turn the tides. But all routes—physical, legal, and rhetorical—were sealed off.
He let out a nervous chuckle.
“Uh… I plead the fifth?”
No response. Just more silence. Even more disapproving.
Scrap.
How did this happen to the luckiest Cybertronian hustler in existence?
He replayed the memory files in his head, starting from four days and twenty system hours ago, desperately searching for the moment it all went sideways…
[Begin Event Log: C.E.-S-HsX]
Swindle stood atop a grassy hill, arms folded, optics narrowed as he gazed down at the quaint little county below—populated entirely by colorful talking horses.
“This is... almost too easy.”
After several hours of passive observation and a fair bit of eavesdropping, he’d come to a blunt conclusion: the economic structure of these ponies was…absolutely primitive.
Give money, receive products and services. IOUs are acceptable. Favors for favors are common. Verbal promises are made and upheld. No regulations, no enforcement, no loophole-ridden contracts.
To an intergalactic arms dealer like him, it was the business equivalent of Terran children selling lemonade on a suburban street. Or Girl Scouts hawking cookies to random strangers with no concern for their own safety...and somehow making enough to feed a family of four.
Granted, their currency consisted of coins made from gold and silver, not paper money...which suggests that despite their primitive systems, the economy thrived for one reason: integrity.
"I wouldn't call that good business sense," he muttered, clicking his tongue. “But it does make things way too easy, so…”
A slow, amused grin curled into a sharper, colder smirk.
“...why don't I have a little fun on this mission and play a few games with the locals?”
But first, he needs the right attire for the job.
And thanks to the recon logs Vortex had collected, he knew just the place for him to make a fashionable investment.
With a mechanical hum, Swindle shifted into his jeep form and rolled off down the hill. His vehicle mode—bulky, sand-colored, and completely out of place in this peaceful area of nature and whimsy—drew plenty of wide-eyed stares from the pint-sized, pastel population.
“What? Never seen a jeep before?” his speakers crackled with playful sarcasm. “I thought you horsies lived with humans… guess not.”
A slim antenna extended from one side mirror and emitted a high-frequency screech—just above the human range, but perfectly irritating to equine ears.
The ponies winced, flattened their ears, and scattered in all directions.
“Much better.” Swindle smiled internally. “Apologies, little horsies, but I’ve got orders to stay low profile.”
He rolled to a stop in front of an elegant lilac-and-blue building shaped like a cross between a wedding cake and a carousel. The design was garish, ostentatious—and exactly the kind of place that reeked of overpriced boutique energy.
Perfect.
Swindle transformed back into bot mode and smoothly mass-shifted down to human size. If Vortex’s info was accurate, this boutique belonged to one of the ponies from yesterday’s diplomatic tea party. One who already knew of his existence.
As he stepped through the door, his optic sensors swept across the boutique interior: lilac columns, flowing curtains, ornate arches. Rows of equine mannequins displayed dresses in every imaginable shade, flanked by overflowing cupboards of neatly folded fabrics of various colors, textures, and patterns.
“Hmph. Standard high-end boutique,” Swindle muttered, tilting his head. “Wonder how they stitch this stuff without opposable thumbs…”
A blur of white and fluff darted past him, hissing in fear. Some feline creature wearing a ridiculously large purple bow hid behind the curtains, trembling and growling.
“Good day to you too, furball,” he muttered flatly.
From the back room, a voice called out. Clear, cultured, and just a touch theatrical.
“Welcome to Carousel Boutique...Oh my stars, it’s you!”
Swindle turned just in time to see her: the white unicorn with the perfectly coiffed violet curls and fashionable orange glasses, prancing into the room with a gleam in her eye.
He put on his suavest grin and smoothed out his vocal processors before replying with flourish.
Swindle flashed his suavest grin and ran a quick vocal calibration, smoothing his tone to a perfectly charming pitch.
Swindle flashed his suavest grin and ran a quick vocal calibration, smoothing his tone to a perfectly charming pitch.
“Salutations, sweetcheeks,” he said with a dramatic flair. “Nice place you got here. I’m gonna need a suit—strictly business purposes, of course.”
Rarity lit up like a chandelier in spring. “Well, darling, you certainly came to the right place!” she declared, fluttering over with excitement. “You’re in luck—I’ve just perfected my humanoid measurements! And you, sir, are the perfect subject to debut my new skillset!”
Swindle placed a hand on his chest in mock humility. “What an honor.”
Rarity hummed happily as her horn glowed, summoning measuring tapes, scissors, and a rainbow of floating fabrics into the air. With practiced grace, she twirled them around Swindle, gauging his dimensions with scientific precision and artistic flair.
Swindle, now seated cross-legged on the boutique floor, watched the magical whirlwind with intrigue.
“So that’s how you ponies handle fine detail work without fingers,” he mused aloud. “Color me impressed.”
Rarity giggled, her cheeks tinged with pink at the compliment. “Oh, it’s nothing, really! Why, you saw how Princess Celestia summoned an entire tea set out of thin air during yesterday’s party, didn’t you?”
She zipped backward toward him, giving a proud flick of her tail as she presented the trio of diamonds on her flank. “My magic just... suits my passions. Just like my cutie mark! I’ve spent years perfecting my craft, mind you!”
Swindle nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re born with your functions like how we’re born with our cogs?”
“Not quite,” she said, tilting her head. “Young fillies and colts don’t have their marks at first. They earn them by discovering their own destinies. It’s a whole journey of self-discovery, you see... but that’s a story for another day.”
Their pleasant banter faded into the gentle whir of magic and rustle of fabric. Then, with one final stitch and a dramatic spin, Rarity floated the finished product toward him—a dazzling suit in deep charcoal grey with gold pinstripes, perfectly cut to Swindle’s proportions.
“Voilà!” she beamed, eyes sparkling. “A suit worthy of a pon—I mean, a metal man such as yourself!”
Swindle wasted no time. He slipped into the ensemble with a theatrical swirl and strode toward the mirror. As he admired himself, his voice dropped to a velvety tone.
“Oh-ho, sweetcheeks… You really outdid yourself.” He ran his fingers over the lapel. “This craftsmanship is stellar. You can barely tell where the seams are.”
Rarity blushed beneath her coat. “Ohoho, you’re too kind, Swindle. Now then, for the payment—”
“Right, of course!” Swindle turned to her and snapped his fingers with an easy smile. “Do you accept credits?”
Rarity blinked, tilting her head. “Credits? Is that your planet’s currency? Oh my… is it made of gold? Or stardust? Or—oooh! Cosmic jewels from beyond the stars?” Her eyes gleamed as she zipped up close, breathless with excitement.
Swindle chuckled awkwardly, taking a small step back. “Ah—terribly sorry to disappoint, but we don’t use physical currency. Credits are a form of digital payment. I can transfer funds through galactic channels and have it converted into your local system automatically.”
At that, her expression faltered.
“D-digital… payment?” Rarity’s voice wavered with panic. “Oh dear. I’m afraid my boutique doesn’t exactly support... human payment systems. I’ve been meaning to ask my soul sister for help setting something up, but...” She let out a small sigh, her ears folding back. “I don’t suppose you have any bits on you? Oh, what am I saying—you’re not even from around here!”
Swindle gave a sheepish shrug. “Yes… I did notice the distinct absence of electronics in this charming little town. Unfortunately, I don’t carry any of your cute little golden coins.”
Rarity waved a hoof with grace. “It’s fine, darling. Really! Consider this suit… a gift. You’re my first ever intergalactic client, after all!”
He stared at her, stunned. “You’re serious? You’re just... giving it to me?”
Rarity smiled warmly. “Indeed I am.”
Swindle’s expression softened slightly. “This won’t do. Such exquisite work deserves proper compensation. Are you sure?”
“Please,” she insisted, lifting her head. “I insist. Though…” Her voice took on a coy note, “If you happen to have any stardust, or perhaps… sparkly gemstones from your homeworld, maybe we could arrange a trade?”
Swindle's suave grin returned. “Consider it done, sweetcheeks. I’ll certainly remember this little act of generosity.”
Rarity laughed melodically. “Well, darling, I am the Element of Generosity, after all.”
Swindle chuckled. “No kidding. You’ve got a heart that shines brighter than the diamonds on your—uh, flank.”
He coughed into his hand, recovering quickly. “Anyway, I’ll be raking in those gold coins soon enough. Might even throw in some space crystals as interest. I won’t forget this, Miss Rarity.”
With that, he spun on his heel and waltzed out the boutique’s doors, suit glistening under the afternoon sun. Behind him, Rarity’s composed giggles escalated into gleeful squeals of excitement—loud enough to rattle the windows and cause her sister Sweetie Belle, who had been spying from behind a door, to flinch and cover her ears in alarm.
But unknown to either of them… Swindle had fibbed.
He did have physical currency. A stash of Shanix coins rested back aboard his ship, and they weren’t just functional. They were literally gold. The same thing pony currency was made of.
But he wasn’t about to spend real value at the start of his little game. Not when there were so many freebies to collect. This was a test run. A warm-up.
Besides… he really wanted to see how long he could string these adorable, naive creatures along. And judging by Miss Rarity’s dazzling display of generosity just now?
This was going to be like taking energon candy from a sparkling.
Sure, it would be hilarious to see Rarity faint at the sight of “space gold”. Which was, by all physical properties, identical to regular gold… except it came from Cybertron. That’s it.
Yup. These ponies were basically children.
And he fully intended to exploit them for all they were worth.