[u][b]The Last Plank
[/b][/u]

[i]"But with good reason, otherwise," she continued.  "Don't rightly know what any of them Institute folks might look like, but none of 'em would get past anyone without bein' noticed, I'm pretty sure.  Longfellow?"  Corrine drew the attention to the old hunter.  "What do you think?"[/i]

Longfellow sloppily set down the bottle of booze he'd been gulping down after Mitch had brought the group their round and the old alcoholic slurred his words in a haze of perpetual drunkenness. The man had been drinking almost constantly since the morning, and even he had a limit. 

"Aye, that's true. We can spot a mainlander from a mile away, and shoot em' nearly as far too."

Rose shook her head vehemently at these words of encouragement however,

"No. No you wouldn't," She said sternly, "You would have no idea they're among you because the ones they send could look just like someone you know. Someone you love. You could be one yourself and not even know it. The Institute..." She paused, finding the words particularly difficult to speak, "...they've created people. And not in the good ol' fashion way either. They've made artificial people. They're called Synths: synthetic persons. The people up in Acadia? That's what they were. They look just like humans in every way and its impossible to tell whether or not someone is a Synth unless you're willing to kill them. The Institute uses their Synths to infiltrate settlements, replace people, spy on groups, assassinate troublesome wasteland leaders...and generally cause mayhem where they can. But every so often, one of these Synths goes rouge. They escape and try to make their own way in The Commonwealth. That's where me and my group comes in. The Railroad helps these Synths to freedom."

"The problem," Rose continued, her hands starting to tremble again, "Is that The Institute doesn't just let these Synths go. Oh no. They're property to them. Advanced pieces of technology that need to be recovered, reclaimed, and reset. And so they track escaped Synths wherever they go. Sometimes The Railroad is able to make sure a Synth stays hidden for good, or at least give them the best chance. But much of the time....The Institute manages to reclaim them. Either way, they never stop hunting them."

Rose sighed again, and took a deep breath again, "I know because I'm a Synth myself. I escaped from The Institute. But instead of making my way out of The Commonwealth, I stayed with The Railroad and chose to help more of my kind. For the longest time I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was in the clear. But I should know by now that you're never truly free."

She looked up at the people seated around her in the booth, turning to each one of them in turn to give them a cold hard stare,

"Bishop is dead now. And if I had to guess, I'd say its because The Institute has sent one or more of their Synths to Far Harbor. My team and I, Bishop included, we suspected even [i]assumed [/i] that this might happen. After all, if we, The Railroad, had heard about Acadia, its Synths, and their sudden disappearance. Then its almost guaranteed The Institute would have as well. That's why they're here I think. To retrieve the Acadia Synths and me with them. Bishop was a human. He's was a liability and not their property. It would make sense to kill him first. The problem is that we can't trust anybody now. Any of you could be a Synth. Any of you could be working for them. Any of you could have killed Bishop. Maybe even without realizing it...." 

A sardonic grin spread across Rose's face and she let out a half-crazed chuckle, "I suppose I should be thankful they didn't send a Courser. You'd probably all be dead by now."

Longfellow let out a stifled burp, seemingly unfazed by Rose's tale of terror,

"Or maybe he just got his throat slit by someone 'round town who doesn't like nosy mainlanders who talk too much snooping and stirring up trouble!" He said angrily in his drunken stupor. 

"What do you mean old man?" Rose glared back. 

"I mean this town has enough trouble with them damn cultists. Now you're telling us we got to start turning on one another like animals? Just who the hell do you think you are anyway? I know I'm human, and I know the friends and neighbors I've lived with all my life are human and that's all there is too it. Its you mainlanders I'm concerned about and frankly, I'm starting to think you should all just get in a boat and go back where you came. Take your problems with you. Hows that sound?"

With that Longfellow stood up abruptly and stormed out of The Last Plank.