Notes: Hopefully this story goes well! Reviews are always appreciated. For some reason, my line breaks aren't showing up when I upload, and I'll see what I can do about fixing that.

Also, I do not own Transformers. This story was not written for profit, merely because I had an idea.

Chapter One

It was 5:03am. Not the normal time most people would choose to be up and moving around. But, to Captain Zira Shepherd of the United States military, this was her time. The temperature was already at a firm 82oF, as she shoved a sweaty lock of her hair behind her ear. Breath rushed in and out of her lungs, her feet churned dust up from the path in front of her, covering her legs with red dirt. There was a certain primitive element in running that the Captain enjoyed. No need for worries, or thinking. Just a steady rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other, and losing yourself in the pounding of a healthy heartbeat.

It didn't help that the Arizona desert was dead quiet at this time. Shepherd had always been a social person, and being stationed in the middle of nowhere, with only a small contingent of fellow soldiers and other people had made her feel more lonely than some of her other posts during her military career. She was used to big bases and lots of activity. This quiet, earthy place made her constantly unsettled. Or maybe it was the company she kept.

When she was assigned to this small outpost in the desert, Shepherd had been told little to nothing about her job. She had been briefed that there were some "special allies" of the United States being kept there, and that it was her job to watch over them and "keep them out of trouble." What a train wreck that was turning out to be.

Shepherd paused at the top of a hill, panting, to gaze through the scrub and desert brush at the tiny encampment below. A few outbuildings, a larger hanger, a handful of tents here and there. That was home, for now, anyway. She shook her head. The purpose of coming on her morning run was not to dwell on her negative thoughts, but to relax. For some reason, it wasn't helping much this morning. She sighed. It was already starting to feel like a long day.

"Mornin,' Captain."

The distinct Southern drawl caused Shepherd to look up from where she sat pushing around a few Cheerios that remained in her cereal bowl. She gave a light smile and nod to the man who sat down across from the table.

"Mike, good morning to you too," Shepherd said, noting the three cups of coffee on his tray. "Long night?"

Mike took a cup and drained it immediately. "A few scratches, and some dents, but nothin' I couldn't handle, Ma'am." He gave her a tired smile.

Shepherd winced. The Southerner was from Alabama, a mechanic, and a damn good one, at that. One of the few people she'd taken an instant liking to on her first day at the encampment. Polite, and with a good heart in the right place, Shepherd could see that this was a loyal and honest man, something she wasn't tempted to lose anytime soon. But the fact that their "allies" were running him ragged was something she had to frown upon.

She stood. "I think it's about time I had a chat with our 'friends,' and how they are behaving as of late."

Mike's toffee-colored eyes widened, and he reached out across the table to grasp her sleeve. His fingers were covered with oil stains and dirt, under cracked fingernails. It sharpened Shepherd's resolve even further. There was no reason to see a fine soldier's skills so abused.

"Captain Shepherd," he pleaded, his voice dropping an octave. "There's really no need for that. They're only trying to help. Being out here is rough on 'em. They don't think they're gettin' to do their own duties. An' I don't mind the work, really. It keeps me busy." He punctuated his ending with a smile, as if he knew about Shepherd's morning runs to satisfy her urge to do something, anything to keep herself sane in this too hot, too quiet place.

Shepherd softened. "I understand, Mike, but as the ranking officer in charge I know I wouldn't tolerate that kind of behavior out of any of my soldiers. I expect no less from them. Don't worry," she winked, and extracted her arm. "I promise not to threaten them too badly."

Mike's face still looked worried. "Captain, you do know they're bigger than you, right?"

Shepherd scooted out from the table, and dumped her tray at the trash can next to it. She made for the mess hall doors, and turned around, laughing as she reached for the handle. "I'm five-foot-three, Mike. EVERYONE is bigger than me!" Not dismayed in the slightest by his paled complexion, Shepherd chuckled as she pushed through the double doors and headed across the encampment to the hangar.

Shepherd headed in through one of the side doors to the hangar, and was, as always, struck by the vastness of the space. Though it was well air-conditioned, the hangar was dark this morning, and quiet. I guess when you consider what inhabits it, you gotta have that much room, Shepherd thought, but the soldier in her was unsettled by the lack of cover such a wide open area brought. Shoving that thought aside, Shepherd squared her shoulders and headed for the back of the building.

"I'm on a mission, I'm on a mission, I'm on a mission," she chanted under her breath, voice keeping tempo with her quick, fierce steps. "I'm not afraid, I'm on a mission."

"And just what 'mission' would bring you here today, Shepherd?" Came a deep rumble from the far wall.

Shepherd leaped into the air, her heart flying in her throat, and a small squeak escaping her lips. Hand to her chest, once her feet touched the ground she craned her neck and eyes upwards to meet the pair of glowing blue optics residing far above her head.

"You know," she glared, "you really should warn someone before you just pop out like that. You could have given me a heart attack!"

"But you were not afraid," Came the voice again. Deep, metallic, and wise. The sentence came out as a statement of fact, yet Shepherd couldn't shake the fact that her own words were thrown back at her. She resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

The object of her…annoyance was none other than Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, a race of sentient, machine-like organisms that had come here to earth in search of the All Spark, as a hope of reviving their world. But several missions and years later, and the Autobot-military alliance had become public. Though the Autobots still fought their known enemies, Decepticons to protect the human race, most had been…less than thrilled by the partnership. So the military had placed them out here. In the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, with a 5'3" woman to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

Shepherd almost snorted. Me? Control creatures that are taller than most buildings, with enough firepower on them to blow us all to Kingdom Come? The irony of it all made her want to tear her hair out.

As it turned out, the Autobots liked the idea of being shuffled to the sidelines even less than Shepherd liked babysitting them. Out here, there weren't many Decepticons to fight, and not much to do except twiddle their thumbs until they received report of one tearing up a city. However, of late, the Autobots' idea of "twidding their thumbs" had been to wrestle and practice battle skills with each other. Violently.

Shepherd noted fresh scratch marks marring Optimus' blue and red paint, revealing silver metal underneath. There were scorch marks over one side of what would have been his chest, on a human anyway. Her frown deepened.

She folded her arms. "I need to speak with you and the rest of the Autobots, Optimus. Concerning some…recent behavior. Is everyone around?"

That blue-lighted gaze turned away from Shepherd, and she breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how many times she told herself the giant robots were friends, and that they were trustworthy, she still felt like a mouse under a cat's paw. Pinned, and very VERY aware of how easily she could be crushed.

"Autobots." Optimus' command was clearly implied.

The ground trembled underneath her feet, and within an instant, Shepherd was surrounded by some very intimidating looking aliens. She did a quick mental check.

There was Ratchet, the group's medical officer. She always recognized him, thanks to his alternate form of appearing as a Hummer H2 ambulance. He stood to Optimus' left.

On the right, was their weapons specialist, Ironhide. Big, and imposing in his black and silver colorations, Ironhide had always come across to her as almost brutish. His voice, along with its strange British accent, had always surprised her, coming from a creature that looked like a death threat given life. His alternate form, that of a GMC TopKick truck gave her no more comfort, but it certainly fit his personality.

Bumblebee, on the other hand, had always been kind to her. She wasn't quite sure what his job was, but she liked his sly sense of humor. And his alternate form of a Chevy Camaro wasn't too hard on the eyes. She may not know a lot about cars, but Shepherd knew she liked sleek and fast, and enjoyed a good chance to gaze at something shiny and full of speed.

Sideswipe annoyed her almost incessantly. His ego, big as it was, grated on her nerves. If she had to put a label on him, as a human, her first thought would have been a womanizer and a player. She hadn't ever spoken much to him, and hadn't recognized his alternate form until she'd asked Mike about it. The Chevy Corvette Stingray was a concept car, not even released to the public. She had to admire the silver body of the car, but wondered how Sideswipe had gotten the image of the vehicle to transform into? Perhaps he broke into a Chevy studio, but how that didn't make the news, I couldn't begin to fathom, she mused to herself.

Mirage was the quiet one, and Shepherd had always thought he was a bit…detached from the other Autobots. He tended to always hang in the back of the group, and kept mainly to himself. As a result she hadn't heard him utter more than ten words in the entire time she'd been stationed at the encampment. It always made her smile though, that his voice had a slight Italian accent, and his alternate form was that of a red Ferrari 458 Italia. She knew that his job had something to do with spying, and she personally wondered if that was why he listened so much, rather than choosing to talk.

Hound was the last of the group. With an alternate form of a Jeep Wrangler, Shepherd knew that he functioned as something of a recon scout for the team. He always seemed to take a keen interest in learning what was going on around him, and his open-mindedness towards humans was something Shepherd valued a great deal, even if she could never bring herself to say so.

It was easy for Shepherd to assure herself that everyone was home, especially when they all crowded and encircled her as they were doing now. You asked for this, Zira girl, she told herself. Now buck up, and be a Captain.

"I've heard rumors," she began, raising her voice to an authoritative level, "that you all have been…'practicing' your skills with each other. While I'm all for staying sharp, such practices seem to have been becoming more…chaotic than necessary. Keeping my mechanics up late to fix, patch, and repair, shouldn't be happening. Infighting is not tolerated among my soldiers." Shepherd turned slowly so she could eye each one of them. Their stoic metal faces gave nothing away, but Ironhide grunted.

"What does she expect us to do? Sit here and rust?" He seemed to be addressing Optimus.

Shepherd placed her hands on her hips, an offensive gesture, and turned to face him. "I understand, Ironhide, that Optimus is your leader. But in my camp, and around my people, I am in charge." She paused for emphasis, and turned back to the rest of the group.

"If you all want to practice, great. We can set up a target range, more suited to your weapons. I'll personally see to its establishment. In the meantime, any further reports of such violent behavior within the ranks will be met with disciplinary action immediately." Shepherd turned to Optimus. "I would hope that you support me in this. Our soldiers can't be at peak performance if they are still wearing last night's bruises in today's fights."

Optimus nodded his head once. "We have understood your message, Shepherd."

Shepherd faced to the left. "Ratchet, you will begin helping Mike with any necessary repairs. I'll return for a report tonight, and I expect everyone to look like new."

Ratchet nodded an affirmative. "Understood, Shepherd."

"The rest of you," she addressed the group, "will begin helping me to make plans for your practice areas. Ironhide," at this she received another gruff noise. "Seeing as you're the weapons specialist, I'll need details on anything that you'd like to practice with, and specs on the distances and kinds of targets required."

The black Autobot stared her down, but said nothing. Shepherd suppressed a shiver and stiffened her spine.

"Will that be all, Shepherd?" Optimus asked, in a polite, but we're-finished-kind-of-tone.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Autobots, dismissed." And with that, she heard the metallic clanking and grinding of several of the Autobots shifting to their alternate forms. Ratchet mumbled something to himself as he headed to the far right corner of the bunker where the mechanic's wing was.

Shepherd sighed. She felt less tense with them gone, but she still sensed that the Autobots distrusted her as much as she did them. She wondered if there was ever a chance of them growing to understand each other, much less become comrades, or even friends. Did they resent her authority over them? Or respect it? She was pretty sure, it wasn't the latter.

"Shepherd?" Came a quiet, husky voice. She yelped. "For the love of—jeez! Can you guys just not sneak up like that?"

"I'm sorry, Shepherd. I didn't mean to frighten you." Hound had stuck around after their 'discussion.' He got to one knee, and Shepherd found herself not having to look so far back to catch his blue-optics.

"I wasn't frightened," she said, and the words sounded sharp and defensive, even to her. "I just don't like surprises."

Hound's metallic lips shifted upwards into what seemed to be a smile. "I didn't mean to surprise you, then. I just…" Hound rubbed a hand behind his head in chagrin. "I really agree with your decision. I wanted to let you know that, if there's anything you need help with…I mean, in getting the practice areas set up…anything at all, just let me know. Okay?"

Shepherd was taken aback by Hound's statement. He, like Bumblebee, had always been nice, if reserved towards her. She was flattered, wary, and hopeful, all in one swift second.

She gave him a tentative smile in return. "Thank you, Hound. I might have to take you up on your offer. I very much appreciate it."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by the sound of Sideswipe's voice calling across the hangar. "Hound, I know I'm awesome in every way, but if you don't get your metal ass over here and help, you're gonna find my awesome sword in your face!"

Hound glanced back at Shepherd once, and then stood up and made his way to the far end of the building.

Finally forcing her feet to move, Shepherd made for the exit in a daze, and so she didn't quite notice Optimus' foot in her way until she crashed into it. Falling to an undignified heap, Shepherd pulled herself back to her feet. She straightened to her full height, only to find Optimus face-to-face with her. His blue-optics made her feel like he was staring into far more than just her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Optimus, I didn't see you there," she hastily apologized.

The silence stretched for a minute before he replied, quietly enough that she knew the others wouldn't hear him this far from the end of the hangar.

"You did well today, Shepherd. Your leadership is commendable. I owe you my gratitude, for showing me my errors in judgment. It seems I have been restless and careless. An idea like yours might help us bring back our focus. And our values."

Shepherd got the feeling that when he said "us," Optimus had meant himself. She was shell shocked yet again. An endorsement from the leader of the Autobots? Maybe this was all just a dream.

"T-Thank you." The slight stutter embarrassed her and she had to work to keep from clapping her hands over her mouth.

"I am impressed." The huge Autobot stood, and with surprising grace for a creature of his size, walked away.

Before anything else could happen, Shepherd yanked open the door to the hangar's human-sized entrance on the side, and raced out. She ran across the encampment, not caring for the sharp looks she received from those few soldiers out and about. As soon as she reached her quarters in one of the small buildings, she thumped down into the chair at her desk. After a few deep breaths, she took a look at the clock on the wall. It was only 9:00am.

"Yep," she said. "It's going to be a very long day."