Title: The Sentinel

Universe: G1/IDW AU

Characters: Sentinel Prime, Megatron, Clench

Warnings, etc: spark merge (but not sex), mentions of violence and anarchy

Prompt: the song, The Sentinel, from Judas Priest's 1984 album, Defenders of the Faith

A/N: This is so incredibly AU. I'm picking pieces from G1, Bayverse, IDW, and whatever oddities my brain came up with. Basically, I've had an idea and I'm running with it.

This was written for the tf_rare_pairing's August 2011 Flashback Fever challenge.

Megatron spat energon out from his broken cheekplate and readied himself, ignoring the catcalls of the crowd and rooting himself on one leg while pulling the other leg into his torso. When the gladiator came at him, Megatron slapped his arm down on the other's, redirecting the blow, and let loose his kick, stoving in the other mech's dorsal plating. He retracted his leg quickly, spinning and letting loose a hammer strike to the back of the other mech's helm. The mech dropped and lay unmoving.

The crowd went wild, roaring their approval louder than they had been booing him. Megatron sneered at them, his anger and hatred of this arena, this life spewing out only in these moments. He raised one arm above his head, fist clenched, and the crowd responded with the same gesture. Megatron held the pose for a few moments, then pulled his arm down and strode out of the arena.

He was met at the end of the tunnel by the medic, fussing over his broken cheek. He grabbed her hand, gentling his touch, and pulled her hand down to his abdominal plating. He'd only raised one hand because the other was holding two plates onto his body. As soon as he released the tension on the plates, a wash of energon spilled over his legs from the severed lines.

The medic gasped, then steadied herself and grasped the plates, letting them down until they couldn't move anymore, then grabbing clamps and sealing off the leaking lines. She worked swiftly; Megatron had another match after this one. He helped where he could, holding wire bundles out of the way and letting her work. It hurt, but he gritted his denta whenever she touched something painful and bore the pain stoically. She got all the leaks clamped off, then wiped out his internals with a rag, then another until he was as clean as he could be in the circumstances. She patched in grafts and clamped the smaller line in, then welded the armor plates back into position. The repair was temporary, and they both knew it, but Megatron had to be able to fight. Finally, she wiped the majority of the energon from his legs.

He readied himself, letting the energy from the crowd seep into his plating, buoying him, transcending the pain. His name was announced and he ran out the tunnel, his attention snapping to his opponent, the crowd forgotten.

The mech was huge, towering over Megatron, who was not small himself. He dropped into a low stance, making himself appear even smaller. A grin broke across the face of giant.

The signal for the start of the match rang through the arena and Megatron stayed where he was, optics intent on the giant. The big mech lumbered forward. Megatron waited, then dodged to one side. The giant swung around, once again chasing Megatron, who dodged again. They continued this way a couple more times until the crowd started hissing at them.

The next time the big mech swung at him, he moved much faster than he had been previously. Megatron was able to roll with the punch, sliding into the arena wall and using the wall to push himself off. He ran up the big mech's leg before the giant could turn and face him, wedging his hand under a plate on the giant's back and pulling it up before dropping back down.

The giant roared, his hand twisting around to his back. He snarled, the sound echoing off the arena roof and causing the building to shake with the vibrations. He swung again at Megatron, who darted to the side and did his best to rip a plate off the leg he ran by.

The huge mech again swatted at Megatron, who again yanked a plate askew. In this manner, Megatron drove his opponent to the brink of madness with small wounds everywhere. Some of the plates did move aside, exposing the mech's protoform in those places. Now Megatron had something to hit. The next time the mech swatted at him, Megatron ran through his legs and flashed a blade at the exposed protoform. Energon gushed and the giant mech howled, pulling his leg away from the sudden pain.

Megatron didn't allow him any respite, instead moving with the mech and again running up his back, blade darting out and slashing though his lower back. He dropped down and moved away, spinning around to face his opponent.

The giant mech fell to one knee, hand to his back. Megatron took advantage, running forward and slicing into the exposed protoform in his lower abdomen before moving away.

The mech gasped, then collapsed. The crowed screamed its approval as Megatron walked over and slid a blade through the mech's neck, spilling his energon in a slick stream over the arena floor.

The crowd roared. Megatron's optics strayed to an entrance to the seats of the arena. There was something going on there, the crowd's attention wasn't on him. He moved quickly, running into the tunnel.

The medic met him, and he grabbed her arm, dragging her with him as he ran down into the tunnels. He grabbed the first brawler mech he found.

"Tell Clench something's going down up top." Megatron snarled at the mech.

"He knows. Here's your chip," the mech gave him one and the medic another, "take them and get out. Run!"

Megatron didn't pause, pulling the medic after him as he ran toward one of the entrances. If they were doling out chips, then the Enforcers were already in the building and arresting mechs. He would be abandoned, not worth Clench's precious credits. His only hope was to get away, then find Clench or one of his henchmen afterward.

He waved his hand at the pad near the door and grinned fiercely as it slid open. He ran up the sloped tunnel to the exit, still pulling the medic with him.

They exited into a dirty cramped alleyway. Megatron looked left, then right. Both ways were clear, but his sense of distance and space, honed in the mines, told him that going left would put them closer to the main entrance to the arena and thus, closer to the Enforcers. He turned right, pausing at the end of the alley to check that the street was clear.

The medic stayed close as they moved into the streets, away from the arena. She stopped and touched her hand to her helm, then looked up at him.

"Clench sent out a meet point. Did you get the comm?"

Megatron shook his head and she nodded. "Good thing you grabbed me. Let's go." She tugged him down a side street, moving quickly and quietly. Megatron felt like a lumbering giant next to her. They moved in a zigzag pattern through narrow side streets and alleyways, avoiding the main roads as much as possible.

However, they did have to cross a few major boulevards, and it was while they were waiting for an opportunity that they saw him.

Sentinel Prime.

Striding along, Enforcers around him, as if he were the master of all he surveyed. Weapons out, his ruddy armor gleaming in the wavering light, the Prime walked through the grimy streets, bringing a small area of calm busyness to the frenzy of the crowd. Mechs automatically gave way, something about the Prime causing them to be aware of something beyond themselves in all the chaos. Somehow, though, the Prime stood expressionless, impassive and alone, even in the midst of the crowd.

Megatron's hand covered his spark, something about Sentinel Prime calling to him. He only became aware of it when the medic tugged at his arm.

"Let's go!" She whispered.

They moved out, slipping between mechs as they tried to reach the far side of the wide avenue.

"Stop!" A voice roared, freezing every mech that heard. Megatron looked back and his optics caught those belonging to the Prime.

Something snapped within him, changing everything. He tore his gaze away, now hustling the medic along, running into the nearest alley.

She recovered her equilibrium and pulled at Megatron's arm, sliding them into a cranny between two buildings and freezing.

A shadow fell across the mouth of the alley, and Megatron could feel Sentinel's gaze burning through the metal of the buildings and going straight to his core. He waited, waited to see if Sentinel would follow him, waited to see if he would be found, waited…

The shadow moved away and the voice said, "They got away. Prowl, circulate a scan of that mech. I want him."

The medic looked up at him, her optics scanning him. Megatron gazed back at her, helpless to explain what he was feeling.

She nodded once, then pulled him out of the niche and down the alley toward the rendezvous with Clench.

Two cycles later, Clench called Megatron to his office, which was nothing more than a corner of a dark warehouse guarded by two of the burlier mechs Clench had taken in.

"I hear you ran into Sentinel Prime while we were…relocating," Clench said. "Wanna tell me about it?"

Megatron looked at the two brutes flanking him, then shook his head.

Clench shrugged. "I ask because of this." He pulled a portable vidscreen from somewhere and flicked it on.

"…the rioting in Kaon seems to have died down under the Prime's influence. Enforcers have continued to be a visible deterrent to further looting. Sentinel Prime's office continues to ask for any information about this mech, wanted for questioning. If you have any information about this mech, contact the Prime's office at…"

Clench clicked off the vid and looked at Megatron again. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me about it?"

Megatron forced his hand down from his chest, where it had crept up to cover his spark. "I swear, we just caught a glimpse of him while we were trying to make the meet up."

Clench sat back, his optics intense and watchful. Megatron recognized the tactic, having used it himself, and thus didn't fidget or move. Instead, he used some of the calming techniques he'd learned in the mines and waited for Clench to initiate any further conversation. This was simply another arena, a different way of fighting, of being the best and coming out on top.

"Do you know what a Lord High Protector is, Megatron?" Clench finally asked.

Megatron shook his head, so Clench continued. "The Protector is the match to the Prime. The Prime is supposed to take care of the civilian side of ruling, while the Protector takes care of the military side. This particular Prime lost his Protector vorns ago and hasn't found another, which is why he's so involved with the military side, even though he's really not suited to fighting these battles."

Megatron asked, "Can't he just pick someone?"

"Evidently not. The Matrix of Leadership – you know what that is, right? – not only picks the Prime, but the Protector." Clench kept his optics on Megatron.

"And your point would be?" Megatron drawled.

"You had nothing to do with the riots, but the Prime's office wants you after you had a run-in with Sentinel." Clench said. "I drew a rather obvious conclusion."

Megatron tilted his head. "You think the Prime wants me to test me?"

Clench smiled, a fierce baring of his denta. "I think…something like that."

Megatron waited, and finally, Clench vented gustily. "Think about it. I'd rather escort you in, make sure you get there. You're valuable to me, Megatron. After that last fight, the odds against you went up."

Megatron absorbed this information without a reaction. Clench meant that Megatron had just moved up in the ranks of the gladiators and he would be taking on more profitable matches, which would make Clench more credits. These thoughts didn't show, however. He simply nodded at Clench, who dismissed him with a flip of his hand.

Megatron made his way back to the part of the warehouse where the gladiators were clustered. He sat down on his mat, thinking about what Clench had said and more, what he had not said.

The medic he'd escaped the arena with walked through the rows of mats, checking on the injured. She paused briefly by Megatron, ostensibly checking a mech next to him. She looked at Megatron and said, "Clench is going to turn you in for a reward. You need to go yourself."

He didn't respond to her physically, but asked in sotto voce, "I can't leave. How would you propose I do that?"

She said in a normal tone, "Mech! I need more fiber patches, I'm out. Go ask him," she pointed to one of the guards scattered around the exits, "where you can get more for me."

"Yes," Megatron replied, climbing to his pedes and making his way to the guard indicated.

The guard watched him walk toward him. "Fiber patches?" Megatron asked as he reached the guard mech.

The guard turned him slightly and said, "They're in that box there." He pointed to a crate, marked with medic's crosses, in a haphazard pile of crates and supplies.

Megatron nodded and stepped out of the warehouse, moving toward the crates. He moved around behind them, testing them as if he was going to move them and found a passageway, obscured by the crates, running between two buildings. He took his opportunity, moving quickly through the narrow corridor to freedom.

Popping out between the buildings, Megatron took a moment to get his bearings. He used a couple of buildings as landmarks and triangulated his position. He was actually close to the Prime's headquarters, if he could make it there without getting caught by Clench's henchmechs or by any other mech looking for him. A shout echoed down the passage, raising the alarm, and he moved.

He sank into the shadows of the buildings, an easy thing to do in Kaon, and moved to another alley. In this manner, he made his way toward the Prime's location, pursued by Clench's mechs. Taking a risk, he ran toward the heavy doors marking the Prime's headquarters.

Two mechs immediately placed themselves in front of the doors, weapons ready. Megatron dodged through the barriers barring the way for mechs in their alternate modes from reaching the doors and drew up in front of the two mechs, arms raised in surrender.

"I'm here to speak with Sentinel Prime." He said, making optic contact and slowing his movements.

"Hey, he's our mech!" the shout came from behind him, and the two mechs looked at the group of mechs that had followed Megatron from Clench's domain.

One of the guard mechs dropped his weapon, placing it right over Megatron's spark. "Don't move."

Megatron froze obediently. A smart mech knew when to fight and when to become part of the scenery, and this was not a time to fight. He'd make a better impression if he did as they ordered.

The other guard mech moved down the steps to Clench's group. Behind them, hidden doorways spilled a squad of Enforcers that quickly arrayed themselves in strategic positions around the entrance, weapons out and trained on targets. Megatron was being targeted by no fewer than five mechs, probably more, and he didn't move at all, keeping optical contact with the mech holding the weapon to his chest.

A flurry of voices came from behind him, but he kept looking at the guard mech until the mech lifted his rifle and stepped back.

"Follow me."

Megatron did, walking after the mech and through the doors into an entry hall with a soaring roof.

Sentinel Prime was waiting for him.

The guard mech looked like he was about to have a spark attack, with a group of recalcitrant mechs outside and the Prime right here, not enough space between the outside and the inside for any bodyguard's comfort. Megatron simply walked past him and right up to the Prime. His spark sang the closer he got to Sentinel.

Sentinel regarded him for a long moment, then turned. Megatron followed with the guard mech sputtering in their wake, citing codes and rules until Sentinel stopped and turned back. He dismissed the guard mech with one wave of his hand, then continued on his way.

Megatron followed him, pulled by his spark and his curiosity. They walked until they came to an office. It was small and utilitarian, although the desk was sized for Sentinel. There were a few datapads on the desk's surface, but the bank of vidscreens along one wall proclaimed this to be Sentinel's office more than anything else. Different feeds from around Kaon flickered on the screens, cycling through rapidly. Sentinel scanned them as he moved around to his chair, flicking a hand at a seat as an unspoken invitation to sit. Megatron did so, choosing the larger of the two chairs in front of the desk.

After he was seated, Sentinel scanned the vidscreens once more, then turned his attention to Megatron.

They regarded each other for a long time, searching the other's optics for answers to questions they couldn't even voice. Without recognizing what he was doing, Megatron stood and moved around the desk, matched by Sentinel, until they were again standing chest to chest. Megatron's hand came up, reaching for the star calling him, embedded in Sentinel's chest but part of him. He stopped when Sentinel's hand grasped his own.

Shuddering, Megatron pulled his hand free and stepped back. The Matrix wailed, startling them both as they sprang further apart. Sentinel clapped his hand over his chest, muffling the noise. He stared at Megatron, shocked.

Megatron gathered himself, pulling himself up until he was standing tall and proud. The Matrix was choosing him, and if Sentinel didn't go along with the call, Megatron would fight him. He had finally found his place in this world, and if he had to fight to keep that place, he would.

Sentinel bowed his head slightly, his face set. He shook himself slightly, his optics watchful as if he were waiting for a sign, before moving closer. The Matrix quieted, the air thrumming with power and anticipation. Megatron braced himself, his resolve firming with each step Sentinel took toward him.

Again they stood chest to chest, optics boring into each other. Sentinel moved first, triggering the mechanisms that opened his chest and exposed his spark and behind it, the Matrix. Sentinel's spark sent out tentative wisps of energy, but the Matrix overwhelmed that with its own response, thick tendrils shooting out of Sentinel's chest and attaching themselves to Megatron, triggering his own chestplates. As they shifted away, the Matrix squeezed between them, surging toward Megatron's spark, matched by eager tendrils from Megatron's spark.

The energy knotted, twining together and pulling Megatron into Sentinel. Memories flashed between them, intimacy filtered through the Matrix, a merge between them started by the Matrix and continued by the proximity of their two sparks.

Sentinel did not understand the rebellion of the lower classes. For him, the stratified society created over the vorns worked. Each mech in his place, contributing to the society as a whole, never rising above his niche was right and proper, a testimony to the power of a unified society. He felt that guiding the entire planet through its problems, always keeping the past firmly in his mind, was more than adequate compensation for his position as the pinnacle of Cybertronian society. He was more annoyed by the Senate and what he perceived as their interference than anything else, and he felt that the Senate was making the situation worse, not better, so he'd come to Kaon to see for himself what was happening.

Megatron's anger at his position in society did not make any sense to Sentinel. The idea that a miner would work his shift mining energy while inadequately energized himself, or running with repairs that ranged from non-existent to haphazard, was as foreign to Sentinel as an organic species. Megatron's experiences were weighed, judged and found lacking. Sentinel did not understand, nor did he want to understand.

Megatron could feel his rage as a palpable entity in their merge. His experiences had validity, he was not the only mech to have had a harsh life. He dreamed of a society where everyone was equal, where your contributions to society were met with equal responsibility on the part of the state. Where a mech had adequate energy, repairs, and a voice in what he did or did not do in his life, where everyone worked and contributed, not with credits but with labor, earning their position as equally as the next mech.

Sentinel was horrified by Megatron's vision. As far as he was concerned, such a society would be anarchy, breaking down everything that made Cybertron great. For Megatron, Sentinel's desire to keep their society as it was in Sentinel's mind was a repudiation of his life.

The Matrix interjected at this point, unfolding a vision of a peaceful society, a utopia, where every mech contributed and was rewarded in equal measure, some rising through society because of natural ability, others due to luck and hard work, ruled by two leaders that cared for their people, protected and cherished them, but did not let them be exploited by others. The leaders were fair, compassionate, kind, willing to make the choices necessary to guide their society through all matter of trials to keep everything peaceful.

Both Sentinel and Megatron rejected the vision from the Matrix, Sentinel because he did not see any reason to give up the perquisites he'd grown used to having, while Megatron rebuffed the idea that a society would not stratify, mechs with lower abilities or a lack of voice pushed beneath those with more power.

The Matrix withdrew. Its final act was to thrust a coil of energy deep into Megatron's spark, marking him as its Lord High Protector.

"No!" Sentinel screamed, yanking himself back from the merge. He was too late. The Matrix slid behind his spark, seething as it went.

Megatron stared at Sentinel as they closed their chestplates. Sentinel turned away from him, reseating himself behind his desk and ignoring Megatron in favor of scanning the bank of monitors.

Megatron stood for a long moment, running through the memories and data given to him by the Matrix. An equal leader, responsible for justice and protection, the physical caring of their people, just as the Prime was responsible for justice and the divine or spiritual well-being of their race. He had a vision of the future now, an idea of what he was capable of doing.

Sentinel glared at him. "I will not accept you."

Megatron bowed, unconcerned. He did not need his Prime's permission to do what was needed. He was the Lord High Protector of Cybertron, and he would fulfill his duty as he saw fit, with or without the assistance of his Prime.

Megatron left Sentinel's office, acknowledging the guard that followed him to the exit. He felt more powerful, more focused. He was already plotting what he had to do to gain the power he needed to fulfill his dream and discharge his duty to the Matrix.

After all, his duty and his dreams were now aligned, both focused on justice and the greater good of Cybertron, and if his Prime got in the way, the Matrix would help him find another Prime, one that was willing to work with him for the greater good.

He exited the building, a plan already forming in his mind. He made his way through the barriers and onto the street, heading back toward the warehouse Clench was using. As he passed a dark alley, a voice reached him.

"Your designation – Megatron?"

~Finis

a/n II: While browsing the wiki, I came across this paragraph under Sentinel: The Matrix used a vision of Sentinel Prime to strengthen Optimus Prime's resolve during a battle with Megatron by confronting him with the claim that Megatron had chosen Optimus to be Prime, knowing that he was weak. Megatron's alleged influence over the Prime selection process was never substantiated.

I'd already picked the song and was intent on using Sentinel Prime as one of the characters, but that paragraph above made it imperative that I use Megatron. I hope you enjoy the story, thanks for reading.