SAPR

by Scipio Smith

A Blessing Sought (New)

A Blessing Sought

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Twilight asked.

Penny tilted her head a little to one side. "Are you asking if I want to transfer to Beacon, or tell my father?"

"Well, I suppose I was thinking more about the second than the first one," Twilight replied. "But if you're having second thoughts about the first one, you can tell me that too."

Penny smiled. The two of them were sitting in the lobby of the Office of Research and Development, seated upon a soft blue sofa that was one of the only spots of colour in the otherwise white, sterile environment. An NCO in the white non-combat uniform of the Atlesian forces sat behind a desk and a protective screen on the other side of the room, flanked by a pair of armed guards, their faces concealed beneath their helmets. White AK-200 androids stood at the security booths that scanned the passes of those coming in and out of the building. As it was morning, far more people were going in than coming out, a river of people in lab coats and suits, scanning their authorisation passes with little beeps as they passed through the scanners.

Twilight was wearing her own pass around her neck; Penny didn't have one, but the NCO on the desk had given her a guest pass which would enable her to get through the scanners for today only.

But they had not yet gone in. Instead, they sat on the sofa in the lobby, waiting as the people streamed in past them, occasionally pausing to say hello to Twilight.

"I'm not having second thoughts about it," Penny said gently, with a smile on her face. "That, to go to Beacon, is what I want."

"Is it?" Twilight asked. "Or do you just want to be where your friends are?"

Penny frowned in confusion. "I … don't understand the difference?"

"If you want to be a huntress, you just don't want to be at the beck and call of the Atlesian military, then transfer to Beacon," Twilight told her. "I think that's probably why every Atlesian at Beacon, like Flash or Weiss Schnee, chooses Beacon Academy over Atlas. But only if you want to be a huntress. If not, if all that you want is to be by your friends, then by all means, live in Vale, but you don't have to go to Beacon to do that. Do you want to be a huntress? Or is there something else that you would rather be?"

Penny did not reply immediately, her mind whirring as she considered the question. "I don't know," Penny admitted. "I don't know if there is anything I would rather be than a huntress, because I haven't been given the chance to find out." She could not prevent her tone from sharpening into something accusative at those words, and she was not altogether sure that she wanted to. "I was created to be a huntress, to fight, not to do anything else."

Twilight winced. "Yes, yes, I know. But if you want to assert your freedom and be more than … than you were created to be, then … then you can be something else, if you want."

"Like what?" Penny asked.

"I … I think that's up to you, Penny."

"But I have no idea," Penny pointed out. "Maybe I will have some idea later, and if I do, then I can do what you suggest: drop out of Beacon but stay in Vale to pursue … whatever it is that I decide to do, but until then, isn't Beacon as good a place as any to figure that out?"

Twilight smiled. "Well, I suppose you make a pretty good point there," she accepted.

"And besides," Penny added, "just because I don't want to do exactly what my father created me for, doesn't mean that…?"

Twilight waited for her to continue. "Penny?" she prompted.

"Ruby makes it seem very noble, doesn't she?" Penny asked. "To be a huntress?"

Twilight covered her mouth with one hand as she let out a little chuckle. "Yes. Yes, I suppose she does," she said. "In part because it is noble, inherently so, and so Ruby isn't required to conjure virtue where none exists. But, yes, I grant you, she makes it sound very grand."

"Even if the reason I can fight is because I was created to, that doesn't change the fact that I can fight," Penny declared. "And so I don't know if I could just walk away especially with…" She paused for a moment, looking around to see if anyone was listening. "Especially not with what we know about … you know."

Twilight nodded, freeing Penny from the need to actually say it. "I can understand that, Penny, that … that speaks well of you, not that you need my approval on your character."

"I was made to fight the battles that they never could," Penny declared. "Just because I don't want to fight those battles under the colours of Atlas doesn't mean that I don't want to fight them at all."

Twilight smiled. "You sounded pretty noble yourself there." She hesitated, looking down at her hands where they lay in her lap. "I feel as though I owe you an apology, Penny."

Penny blinked. "For what?"

"For the fact that I'm a coward, for one," Twilight admitted. "I … I saw the issues with you — no, not with you, the issues with what we were doing to you, with what we planned to do with you — earlier than Rainbow Dash, certainly earlier than Ciel. I should have talked to General Ironwood, I should have talked to your father, but I didn't. I let Rainbow put my fears at ease, and then I didn't really think much about it afterwards, because … because I suppose I didn't really want to think about it. I didn't want to look things in the eye or sully my idea of Atlas with the fact of what we had done."

"I suppose, if you hadn't done it, then I wouldn't be here, would I?" Penny asked.

"No," Twilight acknowledged. "No, I guess not. All the same, I still feel as though I owe you an apology for not acting sooner, not fighting for you, for not pushing Rainbow Dash to see what was really going on with you. And most of all, for not reaching out to you." She reached out now, even as the words passed her lips, and took Penny's hands in her own. Her hands were soft, and her grip was gentle. "The fact that you want to go to Beacon is … proof of our failure, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Penny replied. A hiccup escaped her lips.

Twilight laughed. "You're a very kind girl, Penny, but a very bad liar." She paused a moment. "All right, you definitely want to go to Beacon. But are you certain that you want to tell your father about it? Doctor Polendina—"

"Might try to stop me?" Penny asked. "That isn't his decision, is it?"

"Technically, no," Twilight replied. "But power is not simply a matter of what the rules say or who has the defined authority; it exists in influence and who knows who and words spoken in the right ear. Jacques Schnee has no formal power outside of the Schnee Dust Company, but he remains one of the most powerful men in the kingdom regardless, because his wealth and status accord him a great deal of influence. Your father is not of that order, but he has influence all the same. Influence that he may use against you. I probably shouldn't be encouraging you to lie, but…"

"I have to tell him," Penny said. "I think I have to tell him. I have to tell him because … because he's dying, and I'd rather that … I suppose I'd rather that we could be father and daughter before that happens, rather than me running away and not speaking to him again before … before. Dad says that I'll have to live with that if I do."

"'Dad'? Twilight asked.

"Pietro," Penny explained.

Twilight's eyebrows rose. "You've spoken to Doctor Pietro?"

"He called me last night," Penny explained. "Rainbow Dash gave him my number."

"Huh," Twilight said. "That … huh. Good for her, so she really did go and see him."

"Regardless of how my father has treated me," Penny said, "I'll have to live with how I treat my father."

"That … that's very wise, Penny," Twilight said. "And very kind."

Penny leaned forward a little. "I could still use some moral support, though."

Twilight chuckled. "Of course. Are you ready?"

"Yes. I think so," Penny said. "I mean, yes. I mean … yes. Yes, I'm ready."

"Okay then," Twilight said, in a calm voice that helped Penny to feel calm as well. "Let's get to it."

Twilight allowed Penny to go through the scanners first, her guest pass making a different sort of sound to the regular passes that everyone else was using — or the pass that Twilight used to follow her through. Penny's pass had a sort of whine about it, something which — once noticed — she could not unnotice.

She didn't like coming here. It seemed like the whole building was conspiring to make her feel different.

They managed to get an elevator all by themselves, just Penny and Twilight riding the lift up to her father's office on the fifth floor. That was good, because it meant that there was nobody else in the elevator with them, but it was also bad because it meant that Penny was left alone with her thoughts, since Twilight wasn't saying very much.

Twilight seemed a little nervous, playing with the hem of her skirt with both hands, and Penny honestly couldn't blame her. She felt pretty nervous herself. This was the right thing to do, as Dad had pointed out to her, but that didn't make it easy. Especially since her father was not always an easy person to deal with, a fact made worse by the fact that she couldn't be sure which version of her father she was going to get: the one who had asserted his power over her, or the one who had listened with interest to her stories about her friends and her time at Beacon. Which one was in the lab today, which would she find when she walked through that door?

"Do you know what he's going to be like today?" Penny asked quietly.

Twilight looked at her, frowning a little behind her glasses. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I asked Moondancer to make sure that Doctor Polendina took his medication this morning, but whether or not he actually did … I don't know. I'm sorry, Penny, I just can't say for sure."

"I … I see," Penny murmured. "I suppose we'll just have to see then, won't we?"

The elevator door opened, and Penny stepped tentatively out into the grey metallic corridor. She looked around, half expecting to see her father waiting for her, but of course, it was not so: her father was in his lab, and the corridor was empty.

Penny found that she had clasped her hands together as she walked down the corridor towards her father’s lab.

She had been here before, many times. She’d been here as recently as yesterday, as part of the battery of tests that her father had put her through. But this time … this time felt different. This time, her steps felt heavier; this time, she felt an urge to turn around and walk the other way, to get back into the elevator, to go somewhere else.

But she’d have to live with it if she did, just like Dad said.

And so, her hands clasped together, rubbing them together as though she were washing them, Penny made her way towards the door.

She stopped in front of it. She was very still, completely and utterly still, as still as if she’d been powered down. She stood in front of the door and froze.

She felt Twilight’s hand upon her shoulder. “Penny?” she whispered.

Penny blinked. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Twilight was silent for a moment, her mouth hanging open. “He … your father, he … I’m sorry, Penny.” She embraced her by both shoulders, pulling her in, so that Penny’s shoulder was resting upon her chest. “You don’t have to do this. Nobody will fault you if you don’t.”

“I will,” Penny replied. “I … I have to do this.”

Twilight hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Penny whispered. She hiccupped.

“Penny,” Twilight murmured reproachfully.

“I have to do this,” Penny insisted. “I want to do this.”

“Okay,” Twilight said gently, as she released Penny. “I’m right here. I know that that doesn’t mean that much to you, but I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” Penny said quietly.

She looked at the door and wished that she needed to breathe so that she could take a deep breath.

She had to be brave. She had to be brave like … brave like Sunset. All of her friends were brave, but Sunset had the particular kind of bravery that Penny felt she needed right now, the kind of bravery that acted like it wasn’t afraid of anything, the kind that could walk into a room like it owned it, the kind that could face down those who were much more powerful than you.

Penny remembered under Mountain Glenn, when Salem had appeared before them. Salem had ignored her; she hadn’t said anything to her, not specifically, not the way that she’d gone after Pyrrha or Ruby or Rainbow or Ciel. She hadn’t said anything to Penny, but Penny had been paralysed nonetheless. She hadn’t been able to move, able to fight, not even able to say anything. In her head … in her head, she’d seen herself being ripped apart, unable to cry out as her systems failed and her limbs were torn from her body.

Unable to help her friends as they cried out for her.

She’d seen herself a failure.

Penny hadn’t been able to respond to Salem, but Sunset had; even though it was Salem, Sunset hadn’t put up with it.

Penny felt that she could do with being that kind of brave right now.

But she didn’t know how to be brave like Sunset, so she would have to just try and be brave like herself and hope it was enough.

After all, wasn’t she doing this so that she could be herself?

Penny took a step forward, and the door slid open for her, revealing her father’s lab. Penny walked inside, with Twilight following quickly behind her.

Her father was standing at the table, gesticulating with one hand as he said something to Moondancer that Penny couldn’t make out.

“Father?” Penny said.

Doctor Polendina turned to look at her, his eyes widening with surprise. “Penny,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you today. You’re not due in for any more tests.” He frowned. “Moondancer… is Penny—?”

“No, Doctor, she isn’t,” Moondancer said softly. She smiled. “Good morning, Penny.”

“Good morning, Moondancer,” Penny said. To her father, she said. “I actually came here to talk to you, Father.”

“Really?” Doctor Polendina asked. “Of course. Of course! Um, why don’t you, uh, why don’t you sit down over there? You too, Twilight, how are you? I wasn’t expecting you today either; I thought you had the day off.”

“I do, Doctor,” Twilight said, “but Penny asked me if I’d come with her.”

“Why?” Doctor Polendina asked. “Penny, you don’t need an escort to come and see your father.”

Don’t I? Penny thought. “Father … there’s something important that I need to talk to you about.”

“Sit down first, Penny,” Doctor Polendina said.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Penny said.

“Sit down, Penny,” Doctor Polendina commanded.

“No, Father,” Penny replied, more forcefully this time.

Doctor Polendina blinked rapidly. He breathed deeply in and out. One hand clenched into a fist. He looked down at it, and his fist unclenched again. He leaned back against the table, resting both hands upon it, fingers curling around it.

“Very well,” he said, his voice sounding brittle. “What’s this about? What did you want to say to me?”

Penny hesitated for a moment. “I … I want you to know,” she said, her voice faltering a little, “that I’m transferring to Beacon next year, after the Vytal Festival is over.”

Doctor Polendina stared at her. “'Transferring,'” he whispered. “Transferring to Beacon?”

“Yes,” Penny said, “that’s right.”

“You’ll leave Atlas?”

“Yes,” Penny replied. “At least, most of the time. I can come back for the holidays.”

“'Back for the holidays,'” Doctor Polendina repeated. He looked away, then looked back at Penny. “Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse and quiet.

“Because I don’t belong to Atlas, or to you, or General Ironwood,” Penny said. “I’m myself, and I belong to myself, and I want to go to Beacon. I want to spend the next three years with my friends. I want … I want to go to the school that I want to go to. I want to be able to transfer like any other girl could. I want to be free.”

“Like any other girl could,” Doctor Polendina echoed her words. “Penny … Penny you’re not any other girl—”

“I’m not a machine,” Penny insisted.

“No, of course not, never that, but … you require maintenance—”

“Not all the time; I could come back to Atlas for that in between semesters?”

“And why would Atlas bother to maintain a unit from which they obtain no benefit?” Doctor Polendina demanded.

Penny gasped, and so did Twilight behind her. Even Moondancer looked a little shocked.

“Doctor,” Moondancer murmured.

“What?” Doctor Polendina snapped. “Moondancer, Twilight, don’t look at me that way! You know that I’m speaking the truth. You know that this isn’t a charity; we don’t do things out of the goodness of our hearts, and if you don’t know that already, then it’s high time you learned. Why would Atlas be content to spend large sums of lien on maintaining Penny when Penny isn’t working for Atlas?”

“Is that what you think, Father?” Penny asked, her voice trembling.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“It does to me,” Penny replied. “Would you still want to work on me if I left?”

“That’s not the point—”

“Answer me, Father, please.”

“Of course I would!” Doctor Polendina shouted, so loud that Penny flinched from the volume in his voice. “Of course I would; do you think that I’d want to see you abandoned just because you’ve changed uniform? You … you are my…”

He approached her, kneeling down before her, reaching out towards her face, although he didn’t quite lay them on her. They remained a few inches away, squirming and wriggling, as though he wished to touch her but did not dare.

“You are my daughter, and my greatest creation. As a father and a scientist both, I could never turn my back on you. I want to see you become all that you can be, I want to see you fulfil the utmost limits of your potential; if it comes to a choice between you and Atlas, then Atlas can drop out of the sky for all I care, but Penny … it isn’t up to me. I don’t get to make these decisions; the men who hold the purse strings do, and those men don’t care about your potential or your choices. All they see is profit and loss, and your work, maintenance, repair if you need it, all of that will cost money, money in the loss column, money for which there is no return. Penny, if you walk away from Atlas, they’ll leave you to rot until you end up on a scrapheap.”

Penny looked into her father’s eyes. “I … I hadn’t thought about that,” she admitted. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Penny, for God’s sake, don’t be childish about this!” Doctor Polendina cried.

“What’s childish about wanting to walk my own path?” Penny asked.

“It’s childish to do something stupid out of nothing more than stubbornness and pride!” Doctor Polendina snapped.

“I’ll find a way,” Penny declared. “Maybe Ruby can help me with my maintenance, and if not, then we’ll find someone else who can, and if not that, then … then maybe I will end up on that scrapheap, but at least it will have been my choice, and no one else's.”

“Penny,” Doctor Polendina murmured. “This won’t be allowed to happen.”

“Will … will you … will you stop it?” Penny asked, the question that, of all questions, she most dreaded to ask and yet, at the same time, the question of all questions to which she needed to hear the answer.

Doctor Polendina did not respond. He turned his back on her, his white labcoat swirling about him a little as he turned, before he walked to the table in the centre of the lab and leaned heavily upon it, his arms spread out from his body, his back hunched, his head bowed.

“You want to go to Beacon?” he murmured.

“Yes,” Penny replied. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” he asked. “Because of your friends? You could call them.”

“That’s not the same as being around them all the time,” Penny argued.

“You won’t be alone, your teammates—”

“They’re not the same either,” Penny said.

Doctor Polendina was silent for a moment, although his breathing was heavy. Penny could hear it even though there were a few feet of distance between them.

“Father?” she asked, taking a step closer to him, and another.

“You want to go to Beacon?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“Then you still want to be…” Doctor Polendina trailed off. “You still want to be a … you still want to be a…” He clicked his fingers. “Fighting, weapons, guns, swords, monsters, killer, what’s the word, damnit, why can’t I remember the word?”

“Huntress, Doctor?” Twilight suggested.

“Huntress, yes, huntress! Thank you, Twilight, huntress. You still mean to be a huntress, then?”

Penny nodded, even though her father couldn’t see that. “Yes. I still want to be a huntress. I still want to protect others and the world. I just don’t want to do it at Atlas.”

“And do you think that I am so enamoured of Atlesian white that it would make too much difference to me whether you fulfil your destiny in white and grey or in that ugly maroon with that cheque pattern?” Doctor Polendina asked. He paused, his voice becoming quieter. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Because … because you’re dying?” Penny whispered.

Doctor Polendina turned to look at her once again. “Yes,” he confessed. “Yes, because I’m dying. You heard that?”

Penny nodded slowly. “I heard.”

“When you didn’t mention it, I hoped that maybe…” Doctor Polendina said. “I hoped that … I hoped … stupid of me. Foolish. Of course you heard. You heard everything else; why wouldn’t you have heard that? But you didn’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t sure what to say,” Penny admitted. “Do you … do you know how long you have left?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” Doctor Polendina replied. “But not too long.”

Penny raised her hands, clasping them together over her heart. “I … I’ll be sure to call you.”

Doctor Polendina laughed. “It’s alright, Penny, you don’t have to pretend to … to … you don’t have to pretend to … sentiment. Sentimentality, yes, that’s the word; you don’t have to pretend to sentimentality that you don’t possess, don’t have to pretend to emotions that you don’t feel. I didn’t create you because I wanted a daughter to hold my hand and comfort me when I was sick, any more than I wanted one I could walk down the aisle on her wedding day. What I wanted…”

“What you wanted was a legacy,” Penny murmured.

Doctor Polendina turned to look at her. He opened his mouth, but no words emerged. He frowned. “Twilight, Moondancer, you’re both well educated, and your faculties are still your own. There’s a … speech, recitation, what’s the word, speaking someone else’s words—”

“Quote, Doctor?” Moondancer guessed.

“Quote, yes, there’s a quote,” Doctor Polendina said, nodding quickly. “A quote, from an old Mistralian story, what is it, what I am thinking of, striving for perfection, a father’s advice, what is it—?”

“'Always be the best, the bravest,'” Penny said, “'and hold your head up high amongst the others.' It’s from the Mistraliad. Pyrrha told it to me.”

“Yes, I suppose Pyrrha Nikos would know it off by heart,” Doctor Polendina murmured. “That was … that is all that I want from you, Penny, to … to be the best. To be acclaimed and acknowledged and as the best. To have your greatness recognised, and through your greatness…” He did not say that, and through her greatness, his own would also be recognised, even in death, but Penny could guess that was the part he was not saying. “And you can do that as well in Beacon as you can in Atlas. You can be as well regarded at Beacon as you can in Atlas. All I ask is that you continue to strive for perfection, in the field and in the Vytal Festival.”

“I still want to be a huntress,” Penny said. “I’d just rather be one with my friends.”

“Then I have no objection,” Doctor Polendina said. “Although it was still very brave of you to come to me like this. You must have been worried that I would refuse, that I would set my face against it, that I would do all I could to prevent it.”

Penny glanced down. “Yes,” she admitted. “But I spoke to … to Pietro—”

“Pietro!” Doctor Polendina shouted. “You spoke to Pietro!” He sounded far more upset about that than he seemed to be about her plans to go to Beacon. “How d— how?”

“He called me,” Penny said.

“How does he have your number?”

“I … don’t know,” Penny said, but although she rushed to cover her mouth, she could not stop the hiccup.

Maybe Twilight can reprogram me so that I don’t do this any more. I should be allowed to lie if I want to.

Doctor Polendina scowled. “Penny.”

“Rainbow Dash gave it to him,” Penny admitted.

“Rainbow Dash needs to learn to mind her own business,” Doctor Polendina growled. “If you weren’t going to leave her next year, I’d demand she be tossed off your team — and out of Atlas too, maybe.”

“Why is that such a bad thing?” Penny asked. “Why is this what’s upsetting you?”

“Because my brother is weak and short-sighted and childishly naïve, and he doesn’t understand!” Doctor Polendina cried. “If you wish to pursue greatness at Beacon instead of Atlas, then I have no objection, one is as good as the other to my mind, but Pietro … I will not have you corrupted by his … his sentiment!”

“He loves you, Father.”

“Love? He betrayed me!”

“He was trying to—”

“Now is not the moment to discuss it, Penny,” Doctor Polendina declared firmly, his tone as heavy as a door slamming shut. “You have my consent to go, or seek to go, to Beacon; I suggest you content yourself with that.”

Penny wasn’t sure if he was actually saying that he would prevent her departure if she pressed him on the subject of his brother, but equally, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to find out either, and so, she bowed her head and murmured, “Yes, Father.”

Doctor Polendina closed his eyes. “Do you … do you really think that they will let you go? General Ironwood, the Council … do you think they’ll allow it?”

“Let me worry about that,” Penny told him. “I told you because … because I don’t want you to think that I just ran away, like last time. I want you to know where I went and why.”

Doctor Polendina was quiet for a moment. “I … I have no idea if this will happen, if it will be allowed, if … I have no idea if … I have no idea. But … I know that I haven’t been much of a father, nor do I think I have it in me to be, but … but for what it’s worth, you have my blessing. Just promise me that you’ll never stop trying to … to excel. Don’t settle for mediocrity, Penny, never that. That is the only thing that would destroy me, so please, promise me that you will not.”

“I … I promise, Father,” Penny replied, her voice soft and quiet but nevertheless seeming to echo in the laboratory. “I’ll do my best, always.”

Comments

[Mastermind4892]

The Doctor makes a very good point. While Ironwood may have the final say when it comes to the Academy, he doesn't quite have jurisdiction over science and robot grant committees. If Penny still fights as a Huntress, then she will always be in the same kind of danger that literally tore her apart before. Yes, that comes with the territory. It is the risk that comes with being a Huntress, to fight against the Grimm and protect innocent lives. But Huntsmen still have aura and hospitals for when they get hurt.

Can Ruby help? Not as much, I'm afraid. She certainly knows gears and mechanics, but she isn't an expert in software or advanced cybernetic and robotic technology. Twilight is, but she would have to transfer along with Penny. Now, Ozpin would be happy to provide the funds, but Beacon doesn't have the advanced facilities, specialized equipment, or trained robotic experts.

So ironically, the robot would have a harder time getting healed/repaired than the organics.

[Christopher28]

Aura will save a Huntress from the brink of death. But it can’t heal metal and wires.

If Penny did get damaged again, outside of Atlas’s protection, I have little doubt Twilight Sparkle would do whatever it took to put her back together again.

It’s what a friend would do.

But no. It wouldn’t be easy.

[Lancerguy]

Thinking back on this chapter brought me back to a point I made a while ago with Blake and character agency. Penny really didn't get any in the original story did she? She was just passed around by her team and their superiors, doing what she was told, and never questioning things too much. The most she ever did was run away, and initially that was only from the hotel room and not the kingdom. So, with that point of view, this chapter really highlights how much things have changed in the rewrite for the better. First with Blake, now with Penny, wonder who comes next?

[Snowdrifter]

11246216
I wonder if between the Polenda brothers, Ruby, Twilight, and Moondancer, if someone could come up with a dust powered repair kit for Penny. Or a summonable repair drone, or both? I mean, that's a LOT of 'egghead power' in one spot, even if the brothers can't be in the same room, they can still review each others work.

'Egghead power'