I have a lot to say, and not much time to say it. We're on our way to the port as I'm recording this. I'll try my best to include everything important, though I might not succeed.

I think the same thing about this gambit, honestly.

I've done a lot of things to try and help people. My first interest in science was in using technology to give function to people who lacked it. Prosthetics, mobility, ways to overcome disability. It was a little selfish, I'll admit. I was born paralyzed from the waist down, and no science on Remnant would let me have a child.

I like to think that, even if my motives weren't totally pure, I've still helped a lot of people and done a lot of good. And that's what drew me to the idea of you.

The Atlas military put out a request for proposals for the next great weapons project. They got a lot of the usual, predictable entries: more exotic weapons, bigger guns, armored vehicles of every description. My premise was more ambitious, but closer to what I thought was important.

My focus was less on weapons and more on how those weapons could be wielded. As we learn over and over again, power is easy, but control is hard. What was important to me wasn't destructive power but putting power in the right hands. Hands guided by a mind and soul.

My proposal was selected over all the others, and that's how I met James Ironwood. He was a colonel then and a general now. He, like me, understood that what mattered was less the weapon and more what controlled the weapon, and no other proposal touched on that. He got extra enthusiastic when we discussed the vulnerabilities of the AK drones, and the possibility they might be turned. Next to that, something that would defend civilization because it was the right thing to do… the idea appealed to him.

So we started working together, with me leading a team of scientists he provided, and him providing oversight, guidance, and funding.

It sounds so cold when I say it like that. I understood better than anyone the implications of the Penny Project. If we succeeded, the project would produce a person, a person who would be my daughter.

This isn't personification or metaphor. We determined that the only way for you to have an Aura of your own would be for someone to make a permanent sacrifice of Aura. We couldn't generate a soul from nothing, but if some amount of Aura was given as a starter, we could build from there.

I'd had my Aura unlocked since childhood– its healing properties were the only thing that had kept me alive through all my infirmities. I was the one most determined to ensure you were a person. I was the one most invested in… well, in having a daughter.

What else could I call you? You are the soul-of-my-soul.

Which… might have been a clue to me, early on, that I was treading a fine line. I was using the resources of the military. They wanted a weapon, and I was building a girl. I felt like they understood what they were getting into, I wasn't being dishonest, they knew the premise of the project, but design discussions kept going in strange directions, and there were pieces of the design that seemed like inevitable pressure points…

Hold on… I'm recording this during stops, when I have time to…

There we go.

That's getting ahead of myself, though. It took a few years to get to that point.

Because, while we were still in the design phase, Colonel Ironwood came back with a girl.

Ruby was all of four years old when we found her. No family, no history, nothing but a promise of power. Even at age four, her potential screamed to both me and Ironwood. She could be exceptionally strong if groomed and trained for it.

And that's exactly what Ironwood set out to do.

He brought me on for technical support, to help design weapons and gear for her, and to help create training equipment. It all had to be custom-made, you see. Combat schools accept children as young as eleven. As harsh a world as Remnant is, we still don't expect children to fight. Except Ruby.

I was torn for a time. Having two projects was too much, especially two projects that I cared about deeply. The more I worked with Ruby, the more responsible for her and affectionate towards her I became. That made me feel even worse, like she was crowding you out.

I begged the General to let me focus full time on you. I could never convince him, I kept getting pulled back in, because of how much he told me Ruby needed me. If you're at all like me, being told someone needs you is… well, maybe your biggest weakness. How could I resist?

Then, one day, I saw the solution.

What if we didn't have two projects, the Penny Project and Project Lamplight? What if we had one? What if, instead of developing two fighters, we were developing a pair?

The General was delighted, I was made whole, and if I was increasingly unsettled at the prospect of two girls being treated like weapons? Well, how could I look at Ruby's face, the face of a child, and see a weapon? How could I look at your schematics, see the person you'd be, and see a weapon?

I didn't. I saw people. I couldn't see anything else.

And maybe that was a mistake on my part. Maybe I was naïve. Maybe I was seeing the world I wanted to make, and that wasn't the world other people saw.

Either way, years passed. The technology to build your soul came together, in part because of what we saw in studying Ruby. And it went the other way, too. As we built your body, but before you had a soul, before you were you, you were a test bed. We adjusted your dimensions to match what we expected of Ruby, so that you would be the same size as her when full grown. Then we started teaching your body how to fight with different weapons, scaled to match the both of you. You move as gracefully as you do because we needed you to model what Ruby would be like. You have the programs to fight with so many different weapons because we didn't know what Ruby would fight with, and modeling the possibilities with you helped you both.

Yes, you and Ruby were helping each other before either of you knew of the other. You might still not know about her when you hear this message; the world isn't always neat like that. But if the two of you ever became friends, well, it wouldn't surprise me in the least.

I couldn't tell you about her at the time. Your body was easy to make, it was the rest that was hard, we had to work up to where such ideas would make sense to you. And I couldn't tell Ruby about you, exactly, not when success was never guaranteed. I told her about the strides that technology was making, and how I hoped we could make something as amazing as you turned out to be.

She said she couldn't wait to meet you. It warmed my heart.

And that day started to draw closer. As Ruby grew, you started to grow into yourself. The basic physical capabilities came together, and we started to add the finer things, everything from facial expressions to… to…

Oh, Penny.

From the very beginning you were a victim of compromises, and those compromises got harder the further into the project we got. I wanted to give you full sensory replication. I wanted to let you experience all the beauty of the world around us just as much as any person. They said there was no way to justify aesthetics for a gynoid. What use did you have for taste? How would that help you defeat the grimm?

I folded on taste, but I held firm at smell. I wanted it for you so badly. But in the end, they only found enough justification to let you detect blood. That, they said, had military applications. At that point, smell seemed to me almost more of a curse than a blessing, but having fought for this point for so long, I couldn't turn against it at the end. So you got a fraction of what I'd hoped for you.

Even your Justness and Integrity Monitoring and Enforcement algorithm… I wanted you to have a conscience, I built that algorithm myself, but the physical tell, the hiccup… that was Ironwood's add, to ensure you could never deceive him.

I was losing other fights, too, I just didn't know it yet.

How could I tell, when Ruby was growing up big and strong, and you were looking more like a person each day? Not just looking, either. Thinking. Basic interactions we could pull over from old AI projects, but there was no sapience in those. They were just aping human behavior. Those would be subroutines as best for you; we needed something more.

And when we got to the point for you to wake up, for me to give you that gift of soul that would jump-start your higher consciousness, we got that more.

Penny, Penny, Penny. You were… you filled my heart just by existing, just by being. I could watch you try and figure out some basic concept, like when and how to smile, and just that would brighten my soul for hours. You were so lively and cheerful and full of joy…

You couldn't operate for very long at a stretch, at first. All the information you were taking in, everything you were learning, it exhausted you so quickly. Your higher consciousness had to build up to continuous operations, and that took time. But whenever you were awake, you were a treasure. I knew it was only a matter of weeks before you met Ruby and the two of you started working together.

But that had started to make me nervous. When Ruby was young, I was able to spend most of my time working on you. But as Ruby's skills grew and her body matured and we got closer to her hitting the field, General Ironwood insisted I spend more and more time with her.

It was reasonable, on the surface. Ruby was finalizing her weapons and gear, and she needed a lot of help with them. Like a fool, I believed that was all Ironwood had in mind. But… he had another reason, too, one he didn't tell me. Time I spent with Ruby was time I couldn't spend with you.

And that meant I missed what the engineering team was doing to you.

Because Ruby was turning out to be a handful. She would obey orders without fail back in base, she was hopelessly eager to please, she craved acknowledgment that she was doing well and doing the right thing, and she showed perfect compliance in the simulator… but her first field tests showed a different side of her. In a crisis, she tended to go her own way, especially if she thought other people were in trouble. She had her own ideas on how to help people, and those didn't always line up with what Ironwood demanded of her.

Just as I'd done before, Ironwood decided to solve a problem with one of you by using the other of you.

Without telling me, he gave you a new role. You wouldn't just be Ruby's partner. You would be her guardrails, her guard dog, and the hand on her leash all at the same time. The more independent Ruby showed herself to be, the more in control Ironwood needed you to be to balance her.

He decided that he needed obedience from you, guaranteed obedience, and that would help him keep control of Ruby.

Me finding out was a fluke. You weren't even conscious at the time, I was checking in on some lower-level subroutines, but audio processing was online. I was muttering to myself, nothing important, but I said something unkind about the Atlas military, and your voice contradicted me.

I can't put into words the revulsion I felt when I heard your voice saying that.

Because I knew it wasn't you. I know you as a person, and what you said… no, this was something else, something new. I dropped everything and dug in.

I found the new subroutine immediately- the outlier, the thing not in the original plans. I discovered that Ironwood had ordered a couple of our programmers to create it to push you into your guard dog role. This new subroutine would inject controlling influences into your mind as if they were your own thoughts. The voice of the Atlas military would always be in your head. It also had the capacity for overt action, and it was given priority access to your systems. And, if that wasn't enough, Ironwood went further. He ordered command overrides installed in you.

With a transmitted command, he could bring you to heel, and give you orders you couldn't refuse.

I… I said some things I regret, when I found out. And also plenty of things I don't regret.

This wasn't what we'd agreed to, I said. This—this would have made you less than a person. It would kill the point of you having a mind and soul of your own!

But regardless of what I said, General Ironwood made it clear that this was going ahead.

I decided right then that I had to do something. I… I couldn't let them do that to you.

My only salvation is that the control subroutine isn't very developed. It can cover its tracks, but it's still detectable, still subject to higher consciousness no matter how many other things it can seize. And for the command override, if I could keep you from receiving it, I could keep you safe. But the only way I could think to do that with certainty of success was to remove your transceiver and cut you off from the net.

An inelegant solution, but there's no time for elegant ones. My fight with Ironwood was two days ago, and I've been under suspicion and under monitoring since then. I've put all my skill and credentials and credibility and influence towards prying open this one chance, this one opportunity to save you as best as I can. The window is small, so there's… so little I can do for you.

I feel awful that I let it get this far, that I let them get this deep into you… and I feel almost as awful at myself for missing it, for being so distracted that they almost got all of you, the best of you, before I ever noticed.

And to think they'd do that to you so you could act as a chain on someone else! Perverting the dream I had of you and Ruby working together, being co-saviors, co-heirs to this blighted world… and I almost missed it. It was all happening right in front of me…

So this is my penance. I decided I would get you away, get you out of their clutches for as long as I could. I have no illusions this will be permanent. The Atlas military has as much reach as anything on the planet. And you, my darling Penny, won't stay hidden forever. You're too special to stay obscured. I might as well stretch gauze over a searchlight.

But I can give you a chance to develop. I can give you time to find yourself as a person, to build support structures and allies that will help you have your own agency. Maybe, that way, when Atlas comes for you… you'll be strong enough to chart your own course.

I hope that your course involves helping people. I don't regret building you with that purpose, it's a good purpose, and you can help so many with all the things you can do. All I want for you is that you help people because it's the right thing to do, because your conscience told you to.

I believe in you that way, Penny. You do have a conscience, and not just the subroutine we put in as a facsimile. You may not be human, but don't let that bother you- you're a good person, and that's what counts. You're with us, part of the great tapestry of civilization, a bright part, a part that brings light and supports others, because that's the right thing to do, and you've always wanted to do the right thing.

To that end, I'm sending you to Professor Ozpin at Beacon Academy. He's the only man with the stature to fully resist Ironwood, and he has a reputation for open-mindedness. His support for the Faunus gives me hope he might support you, too. And his Academy has the resources to both support and protect you.

I'm sending this maintenance equipment with you as well, loaded with this message and one more piece of data for later.

There's no opportunity for me to try and remove or alter the subroutine that alarms me so. It touches too much. There's no time for me to be careful, and if I rushed I fear I'd ruin you. All I can do is hide your old memories.

I feel awful for doing so. Memories tell us where we came from, and that informs who we are. It made me worry that I was being just as bad as the programmers who would steal your agency - that I was hurting your ability to have a sense of self.

At the same time, I fear what knowing would do to you. Knowing you came from the Atlas military might drive you to return to it thoughtlessly, before you could do that with full information and purpose. Even your memories of me might be too seductive. If you came to try and find me, well, the Atlas military isn't going to let me go. Finding me would mean walking into their hands. I don't want that to happen.

We're almost to the docks now. I'm out of time.

So… that's it, I think. I can't remove their controls quickly or cleanly. All I can do is hope that I've given you enough time to develop on your own terms, make your own personality and values, so that you can resist doing something that isn't you. And I pray that you'll be ready before you have to confront Ironwood or his subordinates again.

So much of this is based on hope... but without hope, there's not much left for us in this world.

I'm placing you and your maintenance machine on board a ship in a cargo container. I've never dealt with those systems before, but if I've done my work correctly, it'll deliver you to Beacon and then erase all evidence of where it came from. With any luck, the first thing you'll remember is waking up on Beacon's campus.

I'm sorry I didn't do more for you, Penny. I just want you to know that I love you very much, and I've done everything I can to give you a chance. You are strong and smart and capable and good, and I hope you end up where you can help people like I always hoped you would - but on your terms, and not someone else's.

I feel like I'm repeating myself. I hope you'll forgive me. I want to make sure I don't miss anything, in case there isn't...

...in case I...

...I don't want to leave anything unsaid.

I don't know if I'll ever speak to you again. Ironwood won't be pleased with what I've done. Whatever he has in store for me as punishment, I'll take without complaint. I am breaking about fifteen laws, after all. So, just in case we don't get to talk again, or we talk where I'm not free to speak my mind, let me tell you this... this one last thing.

I made you in woman's image. I built your heart, I gave you eyes, I gave you power, and a sense of justice like no one's ever had. I gave you hands, a child's face, I gave you hair… well, robot hair.

But the goodness in your heart I did not put there. That was all you.

It always has been.

I'm proud of you.

I love you.

…End recording.

It was miraculous.

Penny lay down on her charging table, barely able to hold herself together, unwilling to devote any processing power to mundane things like standing or maintaining balance. Her father's testament was all she could think about.

It contained some of her worst fears. She had been built by the Atlas military, they had intended to use her as a war machine, her personhood had been under threat since before she was a conscious being, and she had memories that were erased for a dangerous reason.

And yet... at the same time, a great lightness had come over her. For as dire as some aspects of the testament had been, others more than made up for it.

She had been built as a daughter. She had people looking out for her personhood, and who had gone to great lengths to preserve it. She was built to do good, which was what she wanted to do.

And she was loved.

It was a different love than what she felt for Ruby, she realized, but no less potent for the fact.

She had no idea how all this changed her predicament or informed the choice General Ironwood was pushing her to make. As valuable as her father's sacrifice had been, he had paid dearly for it, and now its protection was spent.

She needed to figure out what this new information meant, and then figure out what she wanted, and how she might go about getting it.

The difference was that now she was certain that her choice mattered.

It brought responsibility too, she realized. The freedom to make a choice brought with it the requirement to make a choice. "Freedom isn't free" was a phrase she'd heard tossed about, but she understood it differently than many other people did. Forsaking her freedom would have been easy, would have given responsibility for her actions to someone else. As long as she was exercising her power of her own accord, she and only she was responsible for how she used that power.

But, she decided, she was up for the task. Recognizing these facts was the first and most important step. And now she did.

She could have wept, if her body had been capable of it.

Thank you, Father.

I love you, too.

Next time: The Person I Know