I highly doubt that anyone who is high enough to sue is reading FanFiction but despite that I'll still say that I don't own Transformers, only the right to be pissed off if someone rips off the original characters/plot in this story.

Fun fact, the two dogs in this story are absolutely based on my real life dogs Teddy O'Bear and Zoey. Most of their antics, especially in this chapter, have really happened. I'm going to try my best to update this every Sunday but if I don't just blame Zoey who probably chewed up (another) textbook or Teddy who went on (another) panty raid.

As it turns out, pitbulls are not the best assistants when it comes to packing. I set all of my weight back in order to pull the sage green t-shirt out from under the snoring dog. Ellie was, in my opinion, the best dog that ever existed but delicate, she was not. Clicking nails on hardwood flooring caused me to glance over my shoulder to see a yorkie trot up to me with bright chocolate eyes. He was tangled up in my black sports bra with my panties dangling from his dainty mouth. Teddy was, in everyone's opinion, the worst dog that ever existed. Ellie stretched in her sleep, allowing me to pull my shirt out from under her belly.

"Get over here," came my exasperated order directed to the yorkie. Teddy happily trotted up to me, his right floppy ear bouncing with each jaunty step, and jumped up onto the bed. "If you weren't so cute you would have been murdered a long time ago." The small dog merely cocked his head to the side, revealing the spiked collar that was covered by his fur. Originally Teddy had been bought as a self-imposed gift by Mom while I was interning at the VA hospital back home. However it turned out that I was the only one who appreciated his terrible terrier ways. It took 36 days from Teddy's arrival for him to suddenly become my "gift" from Mom.

Ellie, on the other hand, was supposed to be a small rescued dog meant to be a companion for Teddy. Those plans were scrapped the moment I saw the picture of the scarred pitbull wagging her tail on the animal shelter's website. A few years later that same blue pitbull was waking up on a queen-sized bed by a yorkie straddling her back and biting at her mutilated ears. I rolled my eyes and non-too-gently untangled Teddy from the bra. Leaning down I scooped up my underwear. I shouldn't have been surprised that the little monster had chewed the crotch out of it but I still growled in aggravation. Both dogs halted their playtime on my bed to stare at me, Ellie out of curiosity and Teddy out of knowing uneasiness.

"If I wanted crotchless panties, I would have bought them that way," I declared, holding the underwear in Teddy's face. The little dog rolled over onto his side and put a caramel paw over his eyes, his form of hiding when he knew he was in trouble. Throwing the chewed up clothing into the wicker waste basket, I turned to evaluate my packed duffel bag that was bouncing from the dogs' playful antics on my bed. Everything was neat and precise and included, just as it ought to be. Closing it up, I stepped over to my closet, taking ginger steps across the cold morning floor.

It didn't take long for me to put my uniform on and braid my brown curls up into a bun. A quick application of the bare basics of make-up and I was ready for my flight. Swinging the bag over my left shoulder, I snapped my fingers to get the dogs' attention. Both of them leapt off the bed in a blue and brown flurry to race each other down the stairs and into the backyard. When they reached the sliding glass door in the kitchen, I threw it upon and the dogs rushed forward…only for their faces to pancake against the screen slider. It was almost every morning and the canines always managed to pull a stunt that would have made Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck comment sarcastically. With the screen door out of their way, Ellie and Teddy surged into the backyard to make sure that their domain was fiercely protected. And by fiercely protected, it is meant that Teddy barks obnoxiously at anything that moves while Ellie wags her tail in greeting. Guard dogs they were not despite what Teddy thought of himself.

The drive to base was a short one. Normally I would have wanted to live on base but there had been an ordinance passed that pitbulls were not allowed to reside in base housing. While it was an annoyance not to have that option, I instead simply found a peaceful farmhouse about thirty minutes away from the base with a big backyard for the dogs and a small stable for my horses. In a sense, the anti-pitbull regulation worked to my advantage because through it I met several other pitbull owners, one of which would be pet sitting for me while I was out Ohio for the week.

Traveling for my work was an inconvenience but one that I wasn't going to complain about considering that I'm not stationed outside of the US or, even worse, Guam whose snake ridden island would not be fun for a snake fearing woman. Lately my superiors were so impressed with my performance that I was asked to go to different bases and hold seminars about PTSD which was the emphasis when I earned my Clinical Psychology PhD in. Or perhaps it was because I was fresh out of internship so I was handed the jobs that my superiors didn't want to do. I preferred to be optimistic and ignore the fact that I knew it was the latter. Either way, it was pretty kick ass that a "newbie" was getting these assignments.

From the moment that I pulled out of my driveway to when the plane's wheels hit the tarmac, I was going over the notes that I knew better than the lines to my favorite obsessed-over movies. This seminar was slightly different than the rest in that I was going to a little known base in Washington DC. Before, I had thought that I knew about all the bases since I scoured over them while I waited for which one I would be assigned to. Perhaps this was a joint base, I'm not sure really. The other difference is that I would be meeting my commanding officer there as well which hadn't happened since after the first two seminars I had given. Colonel Lovejoy was like a s'more…all tough on the outside but all gooey and sweet on the inside once you take a bite. His grey hair was shaved off but his worn face showed his age. Upon making his acquaintance, I quickly determined that "Lovejoy" wasn't exactly the most appropriate name for him so I resorted to the classic title of "Colonel Killgore". At first it was only a mental title that I held for him but one goof up led my entire unit referring to him with name. Someone even taped a thin strip of paper onto his desk placard with the nickname on it. Naturally I had nothing to do with that…so I said.

This was a man who was as gruff as they came and it was as if he was pulled out of the Wild West itself. His demeanor suited that of a cavalry officer more than a licensed psychologist. Of course he was renowned for his success with working with his patients and had been on many tours into combat zones. The man was a walking paradox and I adored him.

"Good morning Captain," Killgore greeted as I saluted and greeted him. "At ease soldier." I turned and fell into step besides the older man as we walked through the busy base. The colonel's step was, as usual, smart and quick. Even though he was a head shorter than me I had to work to keep my long legs at pace with his shorter ones.

As soon as we reached the curb a generic SUV pulled up. Killgore stepped into the front seat while I slipped into the back.

"First Lieutenant Phillip Rogers, this is Captain Kylee Goldberg. She's giving a talk to NEST Operations over the next few days." My head rocked back slightly while my eyes narrowed with the news of who I would be speaking to and how long the duration was. Not only was there a vast rumor that not all of NEST's soldiers were terrestrial, as far as I had known, this was a one day gig and I would be headed back home on a flight the next morning. Nobody had mentioned me staying longer. Something was definitely going on. The barely contained smile on the First Lieutenant just added to my suspicions.

The base was far from large which makes sense considering it was hidden in a warehouse district although they somehow managed to get an airstrip on it. It was most likely an old air field that was bought and converted over to meet the government's needs. Just from the secrecy I knew that whatever I was about to walk into was big and kept in a lock up that would rival my grandma's secret lasagna recipe. I really wished that Killgore had given me a heads up but then again the military's agenda does not always take my personal opinions into account.

The guns were huge and the guards made no attempt to conceal them. To anyone who made it to the entrance there was no doubt that the soldiers were very armed and very dangerous. The parking lot was small and the lieutenant glided the SUV right into an open parking space. Swinging my backpack over my shoulders, I followed Killgore and Rogers across the parking lot to an old building, our boots thudding against the asphalt. Whenever I tried to glance around to get a better grasp of what I was about to walk into (literally) the soldiers seemed to scowl at my curiosity. Well then. They weren't doing a very good job at quelling the rumors of who else was stationed at the confidential NEST base.

Right away Killgore and I were led to a large plain room with around one hundred folding chairs set out in rows. Each one was filled with very large, very….I'd-really-rather-be-anywhere-but-listening-to-a-shrink attitudes. Psychologists had a bit of a stigma in military life, just as we did in the civilian world and being a woman in, quite frankly, a man's world, was not going to help that stigma go away. At all costs during my sessions I avoided the term "Now how does that make you feel?"…well mostly. Sometimes I would unleash that one as a joke in order to break the ice. A tall, athletic man walked up to me and motioned for Killgore and I to step into a corner.

"Colonel Lennox," Killgore greeted. "This is Captain Goldberg, she'll be speaking to your men today." Lennox raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly back in surprise.

"I, uh was under the impression that you were speaking today Lovejoy."

"Yes, I am aware that most would make that assumption with the confidentiality of the situation but Captain Goldberg is a rising star in the field and more than adept. Now, unless you have any objections, I believe that we are slightly behind schedule." Captain Lennox took a step back and raised his hands in a sign of peace.

"Nope, none at all."

I smiled and nodded at Colonel Lennox before I began walking up to the front of the room. Immediately, all of the attention was riveted upon me. There was a folding table in the front that I placed my backpack on. I unzipped it but only pulled out the binder that held my lecture although I knew that I wouldn't be opening it.

"I'm not going to tell you that almost 18% of soldiers who have fought in combat zones acquire PTSD. I don't need to tell you that the more combat one sees, the more likely they will develop PTSD." I reached into the bag and grabbed a handful which I placed discreetly into my pocket. "Even though PTSD is a fairly recent concept, you can go back in history and find plenty of examples. One is from the Spartan battle of Thermopylae Pass. Leonidas, yes Gerard Butler's Leonidas granted he was less…CGI," that earned me a few smiles, "recognized that his soldiers were psychologically spent and were not able to give their all thus sending a fair amount home to prevent the slaughter of his entire army. Out of all of his soldiers, how many remained?" One hand rose tentatively upward. I nodded to him and smiled with my hands in my pockets.

"Three hundred?" I smiled and tossed him a mini chocolate bar from my pocket. He caught it with ease and a quizzical look on his face.

"Next one won't be that easy," I said with a wink. Getting through to the soldiers would be easier with a little bit of humor and, by Lennox's somewhat laid back ways, I knew that I wouldn't be court-martialed for throwing some candy at his men. It really was a trick that I learned in high school since all of my favorite teachers handed out candy and it continued up all the way into grad school.

Over the next 45 mintues I spoke to Lennox's men. They were extremely receptive (the candy was a big help) as I explained the causes and signs of the anxiety disorder. Most of all, I worked to make sure that they knew that the worst thing to do would be to ignore the symptoms in themselves or their comrades. It was hard to fight the stigma that was hammered into how people viewed PTSD; it was felt that instead of being viewed as survivors, they were turned into the victims, which is never something that anyone wants as a label, let alone soldiers. Despite that, I was able to get across that PTSD was extremely serious and came hand in hand with major depression as well as substance abuse that could lead to domestic violence. Bringing their home life into the picture usually got their attention.

As usual, I ended ten minutes before the hour mark after five minutes of the normal questions. I placed all of the candy in a pile on the table and organized the rest of my things to get ready to leave (although apparently I wasn't going to be leaving as soon as I had previously thought). This allowed anyone who wanted to grab a few candies to be able to ask me any more personal questions without seeming obvious. No matter how you looked at it, chocolate was a gift from God. My preferred method of breaking down the barriers for the soldiers was by bringing Ellie, who was a certified therapy dog. She would either lay at the front with me, or more commonly, I would let her wander around the soldiers so that she could soak up the attention. Some bases were not receptive to pitbulls on their facilities; it wasn't the case with this one however there was so much confidentiality in just getting me onto the premises that Killgore and I hadn't felt that it was worth the headache to get Ellie cleared to come along as well. Of course at the time I hadn't been aware I was walking into the middle of NEST.

"That presentation was quite varied from the usual ones I've heard about, Captain." I looked up from the binder in which I was writing the usual observations and comments I made after every seminar. Despite the voice being reserved, there was a friendly undertone to it that made me glance up with a smile.

"People are more likely to open up to those they feel amiable to, not someone just spouting off the facts."

"Hm, very true." The man was in a uniform that I didn't recognize, let alone the fact that it was entirely black. Instead of the normal flags that would be on the shoulder I just saw an insignia of a vicious looking skull with 'N.E.S.T.' above it. He was peering at the candy with his hands in his pockets. "As a doctor, I'm surprised that you are handing out something with such low nutritional value."

"Yes, well what it lacks in nutrition, it makes up with pure deliciousness. However," I flipped to a blank page in my binder and maneuvered myself so that Chocolate Heathen could see what I was writing as I spoke it aloud. "Hand…out…tooth…brushes…with…candy." I made sure to look up at him with a smile so that he would know that I was just messing around.

"Much better," he said with a nod. He looked down and away to hide his amusement and I knew then that I had gained a fan. Snapping my binder shut with the pen still inside, I put it down on the table which I leaned against it while I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I have a feeling that you didn't come up here just to rally against Team Chocolate."

"Very perceptive, Captain." Chocolate Heathen took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms as well. "When I heard that you were coming here to speak with NEST I was hoping that you would speak to my unit as well, but separately. They are not as familiar with PTSD as others but I believe that is crucial that they recognize the symptoms if they arise in their comrades."

"So you're the one behind the change in my itinerary."

"Yes, I'm afraid that I am, although it was not as locked in as your Colonel Lovejoy had made it to appear. In hindsight, he was justly confident that I would come to the conclusion that you would be suitable to be granted restricted access and speak to my unit."

"In other words, you're the one responsible for the go ahead for me to speak to your men."

"My men? No, my apologies, I should have clarified that from the beginning. My CO entrusted me with this decision. He will not be returning from an assignment until tomorrow afternoon and he is rather eager to learn about what this disorder is."

"About PTSD? I've never met or heard of someone who isn't aware of the disorder and its consequences." My head subconsciously cocked to the side so that my eyes peered at Chocolate Heathen with a skeptical look. Something was unusual here. The man seemed to pick up on my suspicions yet did nothing to alleviate them.

"Very true although we are a relatively new unit. Here at least." Warning bells were going off in my head.

"How new, precisely?" Chocolate Heathen smiled in what I assumed to be appreciation for realizing that I was catching on.

"Although our unit has been in existence for many years, we are among the founding members of NEST."

"Non-Biological Extraterrestrial Specialist Team."

"Precisely." Oh my fucking God. I wanted to lean against the table so that I could better absorb this bit of news since it was way too big to take in while handling the task of standing up as well. Then I began thinking about it. No way were they going to let a fresh PhD speak to this unit, if this unit was made up of who I thought it was. NO. FUCKING. WAY. The only option would be to straight up ask yet how stupid would I be if I was wrong? What would be even worse than my personal embarrassment would me having Killgore look bad because of my naivety.

"I was under the impression that I just spoke to everyone from NEST." I was desperate and I knew Chocolate Heathen could hear it my voice. It was then that it occurred to me…Chocolate Heathen had never given me his name.

"All of the biological soldiers, yes." The room had cleared out long ago except for Lennox and Killgore in the corner near the door talking. I heard some rustling at my feet but my mind was reeling so badly that it never registered to look at what it was.

Chocolate Heathen smiled at me. "I can see the question you want to ask in your eyes, Captain. I would rather you say it so I can verify it now before your blood pressure rises to a more dangerous level." Well, couldn't get more of an invitation than that.

"You…you wish me to speak to the…the Autobots, sir?" No matter how hard I tried to control them, my eyes were wide with disbelief. Oh please don't let me get nailed for being unprofessional.

"Wow, took ya long enough toots." I whirled around to face the table I had previously had my back to and then stumbled backwards into the first row of chairs. Riffling through the pile of chocolate were two robots both of whom looked like science fair projects. While one was carefully selecting the chocolate (what did robots want with chocolate?) the spindly one with red eyes stared up at me with his hands on his hips. "You ain't too smart, are ya?"

Something that sounded like a growl came from Chocolate Heathen. "Both of you leave. Now." When the stouter one stood up with his chocolate load nestled in his arms, Chocolate Heathen barked again. "What are you doing with those?"

In what sounded like an old smoker's voice, the stout robot responded animatedly. "Sell these things to the humans. Should get some nice cash off of this little gold mine."

"Put. Them. Back." Chocolate Heathen ordered while pointing to the pile the candies had originated from. As soon as the stout one bent over to do as he was told, his white fiber optic 'hair' waving in every kind of direction, I heard a muttered "Imbeciles" from Chocolate Heathen.

Both robots froze, the one still in a stooped position, their eyes locking. The red-eyed one lashed his hand out to his companion's load and before I knew it he was repeatedly hurling the mini-bars at Chocolate Heathen. Glancing at their target, I saw that all of the chocolates were landing behind him on the ground from what I assumed was bad aim. It took me less than a second to realize though that they weren't going around him. They were going through him.