Author's Notes: Thank for all the reviews and comments from the faithful fans. And welcome to new readers discovering the series and story arcs for the first time. Tonight is shorter stuff. Busy at work and physically beat, including my brain.

Brief mention, in Transformers the first movie Megatron was called NBE-1 by the government while sealed under the dam. The weapons launchers last arc were based on his stolen technology and therefore registered as Decepticon. Some stolen tech is merely Cybertron in nature. Weapons, targeting and war ready would be Decepticon specific.

And did anyone notice Optimus semi alt form has metal tie down chains across the back of his cab in both movies? Onward to obeying rules, however stupid and lame they may be.

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108. Do not assume what has worked successfully for humans over time to provide motivation with proven results will work for Transformers.

At Diego Garcia, the NEST (Networked Elements - Supporters and Transformers) super secret base, a solitary office light burned in the main office complex. Optimus, the last Prime and commander of the Autobot earth forces pinched his nose plates with metal digits in a rare display of exasperation.

"I could offline Magnus for this," he grumbled. "Found a new way to help morale Prime. Humans have used it for over a hundred years. It's simple, easy and we should give it a try,' he tells me. I should have known his help is anything but. Probably wanted more time to spend pursuing online games."

The data pad reports were shuffled together across his desk top, his blue armored hands gentle on their delicate surfaces. The stack went into the out bin for Prowl to distribute. Required reports had been a particular headache to adjust to once joining the humans. A race that could upload, share and return answers in a nano second to cover the same material that took humans days did not require briefings. Until Ultra Magnus had overheard Annabelle telling her dad about how her school day went. Now the Autobots gathered for the weekly reviews without complaint.

Optimus turned out the office light, not ready to face the morning. Elita was already on the recharge berth in their private quarters, lying at a side angle, covering most of it. Venting softly at her beautiful pink and white form, he quietly laid down on the floor, stretching out his twenty eight foot plus form. 'Better than most post battle conditions on Cybertron. Flat, smooth and clean.' He thought before letting the recharge cycle activate.

He spun, feeling the blade score deep through his back armor. Enraged, he slashed backwards; audio's recording the Decepticon's last gurgle on its own energon life force as the main lines severed. Optics scanned the battlefield, seeing too many of his own troops falling among sparkless Decepticons. Then a silver metallic bot emerged from the smoke. "Megatron! This ends here," he promised.

They ran towards each other, weapons colliding and shattering with the force. Optimus slammed an armored fist into his mid plates, feeling the metal collapse inward. Rearing back, his feet slid on scattered plating, his massive chassis going over backwards with his enemy trying to rip into his spark. "Megatron!" he roared, pushing the weight away as internal systems sluggishly tried to respond.

"Optimus! Optimus wake up!" *CRACK* The force rocked his head plates, snapping his optics open. The ceiling of their recharge room outlined Elita's kneeling on him. "Turn your processors on!"

"Megatron," he muttered, the last remnants of the nightmare fading.

"Megatron? I think not!" She vented rapidly, climbing off his armor. "I come online to you shouting, on the floor no less and that is how you greet me?"

"Forgive me 'Lita. I have…" he trailed off, uneasy to let her know his recharge times had been a recurring problem. He did have an image to keep as leader, even to his sparkmate. "Not wanted to bring you out of recharge early. That is one thing you share with Mikaela." He patted her leg, sitting up and tucking his feet inward.

"Mikaela?"

"The human mate of Sam. She is dangerous to wake also." He stated blandly, rising to his full height. "The weekly meeting will begin shortly. If you will excuse me." He inclined towards her, sliding out and around towards the door.

Prowl was handing out reports along with energon holding containers to each mech. "Detailed, on time and readable. An improvement." Optimus listened in but stayed out of obvious sensor range of his mechs.

"I wanted four gold stars!" Sunstreaker whined. "I only got three."

"Try next week." Sideswipe commented, holding up his two gold stars and one blue. "Knew that prank would cost us a star."

"Who would have thought serving energon in such a unique shape could be entertaining." Wheeljack joked with Major Lennox. "I feel sorry for Prime though."

"Because he doesn't get any stars being the leader?" The human military leader reasoned.

"No, he has to think of new tasks every week to earn one to five stars that is fair and equitable to every mech or femme regardless of size, strength or background. How long can he keep it fun?"

"As long as Prowl has to make rules."

116. Do not create and attach bumper stickers on Autobot forms. They are a potential threat to our anonymity and the meaning intended can be misconstrued.

Bumblebee rolled back towards the reflective metal wall, wanting to see his rear bumper. "My other driver is a human," sticker was proudly displayed there. "Only for Sam would I wear this." Ironhide and Ratchet rounded the far buildings, arguing. Transforming quickly, the little bot flipped his back plate to the side hiding the sticker. Whistling idly, he watched them stomp by before relaxing.

His wrist relay beeped, detecting a familiar signal approaching. 'Sam,' he felt delight though his outward face never changed. Lacking his lower facial features, there was no way to express a smile, a frown or to curve lip plates. Instead he bounced in place, playing 'Let's get the party started.' Mikaela's beat up Ford Mustang drove into view. She parked in the designated spot for the base liaison, should any human accept the position. A way of protesting the government restrictions that required anyone to watch over the Transformers.

He waved both arms excitedly as his favorite humans waved back. Then Sam winced, reaching for his left shoulder as Mikaela turned, wincing and reaching for her lower back. Sensors detected increase nerve activity, respiration and variation of heartbeats indicating pain flares. Cooing sympathetically, he uplinked to Ratchet.

::Can you meet me at the hangar? Sam and Mikaela have small wounds I am unfamiliar with:: Bumblebee

::Size and type please. I'm a medic not a processor reader:: Ratchet sent then received and opened the data packet. He sent back a request to confirm the readings. The scout did so, adding a 'what is it?' request on the end of the data. The medic's answer was not what he expected.

Sam and Mikaela were unloading their belonging for the week's stay when he approached them. Their phones beeped as his text message appeared.

*You got tattoos?!!!! Are you crazy?* Yellow Prime. Mikaela blushed and pointed at Sam.

"It was my idea but we got them together this morning. Still hurt. You should see the needle they use!" He explained as Mikaela turned, lifting up her shirt. She pointed to the bandage on her lower spine, the barest blood stain showing through.

"The Autobot symbol is under there. Same for his shoulder," she said. "It was to be a surprise. Only no one told us it takes days to heal."

*Why? You already have shown you side with us.*

"When you join a family, you take their last name to show acceptance," Mikaela began. "Prime is a title held by only one bot and your names have variations depending on the language. And Sam and Mikaela Autobot sound odd. This symbol shows who you are with, instantly on any battlefield or situation. "

"Don't be mad 'Bee. I thought about asking you and she said we should have but how can we love you, all of you and not want to be more than we are?" Sam asked. "You alright?" The yellow bot wiped at his eyes, simulating tears. He nodded then bent down, folding his arms around the boy, and drawing him close before reaching out and dragging her in.

"Ow!" They yelped as sore places pulled. He released them, playing a groaning sound. Chirping, he stepped back and transformed. His bumper faced them, sticker and all. They laughed as he transformed back to his bi pedal form.

Ratchet examined them, coating the skin with a concoction he created that sped the healing of the skin. Prowl reminded them about the rule on glyphs which they countered that they wore a symbol, not a glyph. Optimus feared the Decepticons would kill them on sight when they saw. Sam laughed, "Is Megatron going to leave me alone if he doesn't see it?" Major Lennox worried his men might follow the example until Bumblebee sent his question.

::Can I adopt them? Make them my sparklings?:: Bumblebee

"They're human adults. You know that. Though sneaking off to get their armor engraved is youngling behavior at best," Ratchet grumbled.

"His idea has merit. Not all who pledge to the Autobot cause are bond brothers or answered my call to earth. In the past, they joined for revenge or to escape falling under Decepticon control. If we are to rebuild and thrive, we cannot let the past be all that exists. Are there any who deny their right to join us?" No sound was heard in the silence. "Samuel James Witwicky, Mikaela Sandra Banes will you stand with us, fight and live for that which is right, deny the darkness of hate and anger, and be the sparks for peace, until all are one?"

"Yes," They both said while tears filled their eyes.

"As Prime, I witness your pledge as those assembled here bear witness." He leaned down towards them as the Autobots voiced their agreement. "As Optimus, sparkmate of Elita1 and creator of Bumblebee, welcome to our family."

::Can they call you grandpa big bot?:: Bumblebee teased.

137. Do not let concerns for safety interfere with our ability to fight. Humans require it; while important it can become an issue in wartime.

Ironhide watched the soldiers removing the electrical heaters from under the desk spaces, while joking about starting fires or shorting out like hugging Jolt after a rain storm. "What are they doing?"

"Safety inspection." Jazz answered, hiding a grin as the black mech twitched. "Snuck up on you hmm?"

"That twitch is my safeties keeping me from beating wise aft mechs into metal shards." He countered, glaring down at the silver mech. "Keep that up and you will have to return from the matrix twice."

"Easy there' Hide. Pulling your chain as the humans say." His blue visor sparkled as he tilted his head.

"Optimus has chains in his alt form. I have cannons." They turned as a human shouted. Jazz walked over, kneeling to pick up the small piece of plastic then placed the green EXIT sign back up above the human size doorway.

"I thought that went on the trashcan for the liaison desk?" He asked.

"Human joke," the human answered, his heartbeat and respiration increasing with embarrassment. "Safety inspector will check everything this afternoon at fourteen hundred hours. We have to be ready."

"Our idea of safety is all green on weapons and battle computers." Ironhide stated.

"Speak for yourself," Ratchet's voice was heard as he entered through the Autobot size doors. "Mine is having enough parts to repair you lug heads that are too slow to dodge 'Con fire."

Optimus glanced over at his soldiers, lip plates twitching echoing his thoughts. 'Mine is having a brig big enough to hold all my problems.'

The Autobots watched various changes, searching the net to recommend several more. No bot admitted to it but the last four internal safety violations reports were hacked from the mainframe, printed and left for Major Lennox and his officers to find. At the appointed time, the officer arrived, his assistant hurriedly typing notes on a laptop as his voice droned on.

"Question for you robots." He began from his position on the rolling communications platform.

"We are autonomous sentient organisms from the planet Cybertron. Living, functional mechanical life forms. The term preferred is Autobots. Not robots." Optimus corrected softly.

"Right. Fire drill. Both exits are blocked, humans can't get out. What do you do?" He asked, both hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips.

As one, the five Autobots turned, targeting the west wall. Red laser lights displayed a variety of circle sizes, each huge. "Instant doorways," Jazz quipped. "Choose how you want them made. Energon, laser, pulsar or repeat fire metal shells."

"Are any of those hazardous? Do you have MSDS sheets on their materials? Proper storage? Stay back stickers?" He quizzed, the smirk gone.

Major Lennox interrupted, striding up very close to the official. "Weapons and technology are protected under the treaty. No official recognition of their existence means no storage labels or rules regarding." Fifteen minutes ,they were still arguing, quoting rules to each other. The Autobots left, transforming once in the cool fall air, rolling different directions as their tasks required.

"Has anyone seen the leader? The Pimp?"

"That's Prime!" Lennox shouted then controlled his temper immediately. "He is on base. It is a matter of finding him. Might be video conference with the Pentagon Joint Chiefs, discussing satellite arrays with the scientists or solving earth's pollution problems with the janitors." An hour of diligent searching failed to find him, though each Autobot claimed he had just been there.

Sam and Bumblebee helped, until they reached the airport strip. Sam tapped his guardian's leg, signaling for them to stand still. The official, his assistant typing on the laptop he carried, and the Major and his staff continued their search.

"See what I see?" He asked the yellow scout. "Fire house with three engine doors and four fire engines parked out front." Sam approached the middle right one. "Hey Optimus, nice disguise. Hologram or new alt form? 'Bee, please quit with scanning me. I have not lost my mind. Yet," the boy muttered. "Might if you keep doing that."

Bumblebee tapped his arm readout, advanced sensors indicating nothing before him except four human made emergency vehicles. Not one Autobot or Cybertron technology signal showed. He hesitated, then closed his optics, feeling for his bond with his creator. The faintest echo of amusement rippled back from the middle engine. The image shimmered then collapsed. A very distinct red and blue semi parked there, transforming up into Optimus Prime.

"How did you know Sam?"

"Your shadow. It was shorter and wider than the others. Like a Peterbilt semi. Holograms look real but not to the sun." The human youth explained. "Need to add shadow shapes to your holograms."

"Cybertron faces the sun or away by planetary halves. Earth's rotation is more complex and we shall have to take that into consideration. Thank you for the observation Sam. It may assist us in battle. " Prime thanked him, before transforming back into his alt form. "Need a lift?"

"Got a ride." He pointed towards Bumblebee who chirped and whistled. "Second to none" music clip played. "Why were you sitting there? Other than looking cool or should I say hot as a fire engine?"

"The safety inspector was getting on my last neural processor link. I thought it best to avoid the man until he departs. Insisted on unwise and unnecessary regulations. I was tempted to assist his departure over to the Decepticons to lecture them per Ironhide and Ratchet's suggestion. " His engine roared to life, then rumbled as he rolled back towards the main base.

Sam sighed, feeling guilty for not explaining he felt Optimus as a strong energy pulse first then noticed the odd shaped shadow. Bumblebee rumbled as he adjusted scanners, calibrating to look for shadows. 'If I tell him I will never leave med bay. Mikaela will be mad I didn't tell her. My parents will freak. But no Decepticon can ever sneak up on me again. For now, stay quiet. How much trouble could it cause?'